#when i was a kid i used to cry because numbers were infinite

[sweetbugs]

[rueroyale]

From The Nine Tailors, this stream of consciousness passage, annotated:

"And people may say what they like," thought Wimsey again, "about the services of the Church of England, but there was genius in the choosing of these psalms. 'That I may be certified how long I have to live'--what a terrifying prayer! Lord, let me never be certified of anything of the kind. 'A stranger with Thee and a sojourner'--that's a fact, God knows.... 'Thou hast set our misdeeds before Thee' ... very likely, and why should I, Peter Wimsey, busy myself with digging them up? I haven't got so very much to boast about myself, if it comes to that.... Oh, well!... 'world without end, Amen.' Now the lesson. I suppose we sit down for this--I'm not very well up in the book of the words.... Yes.... This is the place where the friends and relations usually begin to cry--but there's nobody here to do it--not a friend, nor a----How do I know that? I don't know it. Where's the man or woman who would have recognised that face, if the murderer hadn't taken all those pains to disfigure it?... That red-haired kid must be Hilary Thorpe ... decent of her to come ... interesting type ... I can see her making a bit of a splash in five years' time.... 'I have fought with beasts at Ephesus' ... what on earth has that got to do with it?... 'raised a spiritual body'--what does old Donne say? 'God knows in what part of the world every grain of every man's dust lies.... He whispers, he hisses, he beckons for the bodies of his saints' ... do all these people believe that? Do I? Does anybody? We all take it pretty placidly, don't we? 'In a flash, at a trumpet crash, this Jack, joke, poor potsherd, patch, matchwood, immortal diamond is--immortal diamond.' Did the old boys who made that amazing roof believe? Or did they just make those wide wings and adoring hands for fun, because they liked the pattern? At any rate, they made them look as though they believed something, and that's where they have us beat. What next? Oh, yes, out again to the grave, of course. Hymn 373 ... there must be some touch of imagination in the good Mr. Russell to have suggested this, though he looks as if he thought of nothing but having tinned salmon to his tea.... 'Man that is born of a woman ...' not very much further to go now; we're coming into the straight.... 'Thou knowest, Lord, the secrets of our hearts....' I knew it, I knew it! Will Thoday's going to faint.... No, he's got hold of himself again. I shall have to have a word with that gentleman before long ... 'for any pains of death, to fall from Thee.' Damn it! that goes home. Why? Mere splendour of rhythm, I expect--there are plenty of worse pains.... 'Our dear brother here departed' ... brother ... we're all dear when we're dead, even if beforehand somebody hated us enough to tie us up and ... Great Scott, yes! What about that rope?"

Annotations

Psalms 39.

5 Lord, let me know mine end, and the number of my days; that I may be certified how long I have to live.

…

14 For I am a stranger with thee, and a sojourner, as all my fathers were.

15 O spare me a little, that I may recover my strength, before I go hence, and be no more seen.

Psalm 90:8 KJV

Thou hast set our iniquities before thee, Our secret sins in the light of thy countenance.

1 Corinthians 15:32 KJV

If after the manner of men I have fought with beasts at Ephesus, what advantageth it me, if the dead rise not? let us eat and drink; for to morrow we die.

1 Corinthians 15:44 KJV

It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body.

Donne’s Sermon LXXXI

One humour of our dead body produces worms, and those worms suck and exhaust all other humour, and then all dies, and all dries, and moulders into dust, and that dust is blown into the river, and that puddled water tumbled into the sea, and that ebbs and flows in infinite revolutions, and still, still God knows in what cabinet every seed-pearl lies, in what part of the world every grain of every man's dust lies; and sibilat populum suum, (as his prophet speaks in another case) he whispers, he hisses, he beckons for the bodies of his saints, and in the twinkling of an eye, that body that was scattered over all the elements, is sat down at[ the right hand of God, in a glorious resurrection.

That Nature is a Heraclitean Fire and of the comfort of the Resurrection, by Gerard Manley Hopkins

Flesh fade, and mortal trash

Fall to the residuary worm; | world's wildfire, leave but ash:

In a flash, at a trumpet crash,

I am all at once what Christ is, | since he was what I am, and

This Jack, joke, poor potsherd, | patch, matchwood, immortal diamond,

Is immortal diamond.

Job.14

1 Man that is born of a woman is of few days, and full of trouble.

2 He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down: he fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not.

Book of Common Prayer

Thou knowest, Lord, the secrets of our hearts;

Shut not thy merciful ears unto our pray'rs;

But spare us, Lord most holy, O God most mighty.

O holy and most merciful Saviour,

Thou most worthy Judge eternal,

Suffer us not at our last hour,

For any pains of death to fall away from Thee.

[halfghostwriter]

@victoria-has-no-secret ooo hell yeah

Johnny really didn’t want to be in Amity right now. He could feel the massive, suffocating aura of Phantom’s brooding form from the outskirts of town. The only reason he was even there was because he and a few of the other ghosts Phantom was closer with agreed to keep an eye on Amity park while he was gone for the month. Sure, they all liked to rough up the town, but it just wasn’t fun without Phantom there. Plus, if something destroyed the town while Phantom was in his brooding form, Johnny was sure Phantom would rain down hell on the entire Infinite Realms. So, all the more chill ghosts agreed to take shifts looking after the town, making sure no powerful ghosts tried to invade.

And Ancients, was it boring.

Wandering closer to the taped-off border made to indicate the start of Phantom’s “nesting grounds,” Johnny sees a bunch of people in the distance, all running towards Amity from inside Phantom’s nest.

…The fuck?

“The fuck?” Johnny says. “What the hell were you guys doing in Phantom’s nesting grounds?!”

The group seemed… almost shocked by that? Which, have they literally been living under a rock? The entire town had been preparing for this for months, getting all the emergency shields and things ready in case Phantom wandered too close to town, establishing code words for “Phantom is wandering too close” (code shark), “Phantom can’t find his baby” (code hen), and even things as obscure as “Phantom latched onto a human who wandered into his territory, lost sight of them, and is on a rampage searching for his ‘missing cub’” (code duck, the least likely scenario).

There’s silence, followed by a small chorus of “nesting grounds?” “who are you?” and a couple “wait, that was Phantom? Did you guys know this?” the last of which kinda ticked Johnny off.

“Yeah, no shit that was Phantom. Didn’t any of you see the signs posted around his nest?”

“I mean, I saw them,” one of them, a human in red with a white cape, said, “but I thought they were more like a ‘it’s just this way!’ sort of thing. I just wanted to visit Phantom and his kid, but…”

Johnny puts his face in his hands. “Buddy, you can’t just visit a ghost when they’re—”

He freezes, eyes snapping open. He slowly raises his eyes to scan the sheer number of people around him as sheer horror dawns on him.

“… did Phantom… see any of you…?”

“As a matter of fact,” a green human(??? Maybe??? Johnny doesn’t really know how humans work) said, “he had actually been holding most of us hostage. Could you perhaps explain why—”

Johnny felt the scream in his core before he realized his hands were over his ears.

No one was sure exactly when Phantom had become so powerful, whether it was his defeat of Pariah Dark, his training with many Ancients, or even a side effect of growing up as a halfa, but anyone who knew him knew he was strong. However, until that moment, Johnny had never fully realized the potential the ghost boy held until he was being suffocated by the grieving cry of a god who had lost his brood.

Johnny isn’t sure when he started flying towards town, nor when he started screaming out warnings to the people of Amity, but he is sure of one thing.

They have a code duck on their hands.

The brooding form of the fledgling god Phantom is on its way.

And he sure as hell doesn’t want to be between that and the people it views as its own.

(Taglist: @mrowsters @sailor-goddess @aikoiya @fisticuffsatapplebees @michikoy-yuki @rhode13)

When a true baby ghost is born— a ghost not born of dying, but rather through the desire of another ghost— they are little more than a core with wispy ectoplasm emanating from them for about a month. During said month, they take on influence from their surroundings in order to figure out the form they’ll take, hence why so many young ghosts look like their parents.

Because they aren’t fully formed until a month after their birth, the parent or parents will take on a far more aggressive, primal form in order to protect their child. The parent’s form will become incredibly monstrous, and their size will increase, with triple their normal size being most common among parents. Their mental state also becomes incredibly instinctual, higher intelligence temporarily being replaced by aggression towards anyone the ghost doesn’t consider family. They stay in this state until the baby is fully formed.

Of course, Danny “don’t worry about it” Phantom forgets to add this bit of trivia to his explanation to his fellow heroes as to why he was taking paternity leave. In his defense, he didn’t expect them to visit during that month.

And he definitely didn’t expect his brooding brain to latch onto most everyone who visited as “part of his brood.”

[ichayalovesyou]

Hey! Could you write a platonic!reader x pike where the reader has a stutter/speech impediment where the reader is trying to explain something but they get very upset and start crying and pike try’s to comfort them?

Oh I GOT you homie. I had a bit of a lisp growing up and and hyperplexia (I’d make up words and use references, assuming others would instantly understand). I have family and friends with speech disorders and impediments that I’ve known over the years. Strange New Worlds has a plethora of disabled characters, and I look forward to dispensing that truth through Pike. No one is alone. 💕😎🖖🏻

Choice of Words (Platonic Pike x Reader)

Rating: E for Everyone

Word Count: 846

Content: SFW/Platonic, GN!Reader, Sciences!Reader, Cadet!Reader, Disabled!Reader, Dad Mode!Pike (affectionate), panic attacks, tears, disability solidarity. And! An accommodation option I wish existed whenever I'm in non-verbal mode but want people to be able to hear me and not just read my words when I have to write or type instead. Because this is Star Trek darn it! In an ideal equitable world they'll have really snazzy useful stuff like that!

Teaser: It was time for your final scientific presentation assessment, one of the last legs of your cadet cruise, in front of the entire senior staff. Your stammer always got so much worse when you were nervous or upset, the solution was simple, don't get nervous or upset! Easier said than done, not even easier said, if you were being honest.

“Infinites-tes-tes-sim-simal-al chan-ances of of of…”

“I’m so sorry Cadet, could you repeat that?” Number One asked politely.

“Infini-ini-ni-ni-t-t-tes-es-es-es-si-ma UGH! God damnit-it-it-it-it!” You slammed the data pad down, turning off the presentation. 

Commander Una flinched and grimaced, glancing at the rest of the senior staff. Spock did that anxiety inducing, unreadable head tilt lean back combo he always does. La’an leaned forward, hands clasped, and looked back at Una. Everyone looked at Captain Pike. You couldn’t take this, could somebody please say something?! 

You clenched your jaw to keep the stammer from continuing. Tears welling in your eyes. You had to get out of there, the doors whisked open as you stormed away.

You thought you could do this, and you couldn’t, it was humiliating. You let the tears come. You slide down against the wall in misery, not caring who saw. Chances were you weren’t gonna see any of these people again.

You were gonna fail your assessment because of a stupid speech impediment, your worst nightmare was coming true.

The captain exited the conference room, looking for you. You’d expected it to be Lieutenant Spock, he was the head of your department after all. You must have screwed up worse than you thought if your boss’s boss was coming for you.

Maybe he wouldn’t see you if you could stifle it, but a sob escaped anyway, so much for that idea. He looked down at you, concern knitting his brow.

“Oh, hey there Cadet. Mind if I cop a squat next to you?” he asked.

“I I I I I-“ it always got so much worse when you were upset.

“It’s alright, take your time.” Pike added calmly, kindly.

“I I guess-ess so-o-o, sure-ure-ure-ure.”

He crouched down next to you after that, just, sat there next to you as you slowly got a hold of yourself. Indicating silently to a couple of officers in the hallway who’d slowed to move it along. When one hesitated, he raised a dismissive hand as if to say “I’ve got this.”

After the sobs mostly died off, the Captain shifted a bit, took a deep breath, and started to speak.

“Y’know, when I was a kid, I had asthma. I couldn’t run as fast or play as hard as the other kids without my lungs seizing up, not without help anyway. Kids can be cruel, I can’t pretend it didn’t make me feel insecure. I may not have asthma anymore, but I'm not the only one in that room who can speak to what you’re going through.”

“Wha-at do you do you-ou mea-an?”

“I’ve got an officer in there, who was expected to grow out of their learning disability, and didn’t. I’ve got an officer in there, who didn’t realize they were hurting until they had friends to encourage them to get help. I know… someone in that room who’s able to speak like you and I do now, who won’t be able to in the future. I- he’ll need help to communicate for the rest of his life. I had a remarkable officer, who was considered disabled just because our world isn’t built for him. I know he never saw himself that way.”

“I me-et Chi-ief Chief Hem- Hemmer. Who are-are-are the other one-ones?”

“I’ll let them tell you when and if they’re comfortable. What I’m trying to say is, don’t let what you’re struggling with define you Y/N. Your impediment isn’t going to stop you from thriving as an officer. Heck, it may even make you a more insightful one. Your superior officers didn’t become superior officers by getting rid of whatever makes them different, they did it by learning to live with it, by embracing it.”

“Yeah-ah?”

“Yeah! So, what’re you thinkin’? Are you ready to get back in there? You can do whatever you need to do to get this done. You’ll get no judgment from me. No one’s gonna punish you for accommodating yourself, it’s not cheating.”

“Okay, okay, yeah-ah, I’ve-ve… I’ve got thi-is. I I, I got a a plan-an.”

“That’s the spirit, come on, you made it this far, show us what you can do.”

As you re-entered the conference room, the commander looked relieved. It was then you realized she wasn’t upset with you, rather, worried she’d made you upset. Which was correct, but you couldn’t really blame her for it.

“Computer-uter? Activate-ate real time text to to speech-eech.”

“Real time text to speech activated.” 

This was perfect, it would still be improvised like you were talking, the computer speaking as you typed. It still wouldn’t be copying your speech notes or fully scripted. Thus, following the perimeters of the assignment, without having to worry about your stammer.

“Very intuitive Cadet, please continue. Perhaps from the previous segment, for the commander’s benefit.” Mr. Spock commented, quirking an eyebrow as he glanced at Number One. Who smiled a bit sheepishly in response.

“Of of cour-ourse.”

Take two. You’ve got this in the bag. Because now, you know that you know you are not alone. Not in this room, or anywhere else.

[zv5x]

Hey guys! An anon requested some Yandere ABC'S with Sen, but I had to reupload cause the formatting was wrong!!! I hope it works this time, and I hope you find it anon! Let me know if you did!

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Original text ...

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Hey Anon! Don't worry, requests are open permanently! So feel free to request as much as you want! I'm so glad you enjoy my writings, that makes me feel so happy! I hope you enjoy the ABC's prompt and I hope I did a good job! (*´ω｀*) Stay safe and take care of yourself, you're valid and loved! ( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get? - Sen is a major giftgiver. So, expect him to really paint his love for you with lavish spending. Also, along with that, he's a hopeless romantic. So be sure to expect love letters and love notes to be littered around your apartment (whether or not he had permission to be where he placed them...that's up for debate). You met Senpai when you stumbled across his game, and were there to play it before you discovered a way to get him out. So, he was just as affectionate as your average visual novel character. Meaning, he's basically infinitely affectionate. He's very gentlemenly as well: kissing the top of your hand and brushing his lips against the tips of your fingers, helping you get ready each morning (he has to, considering you're literally restrained and rendered unable to do so), and other things. Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling? - I always imagined Sen to be more of a yandere "stereotype" considering his source (a cheesy Japanese romance game with pretty pastel colors and overly sweet and cheesy dialogue). So, Senpai would in that case be willing to make his murders messy. Their lives don't matter to Senpai, and he'll gladly paint a pretty picture of romance with their blood. He'd do anything to emphasize the fact that you belong to him and him alone. Not to those filthy, impure worms. Cruelty: How would they treat their darling when they're abducted? Would they mock them? - Senpai has a bit of an ego problem. So, if he feels it necessary, he'll gladly make you feel inferior to him. "Out of the hundreds of people in the school, you're the one that I long for so strongly. Shouldn't you be greatful for that? I'm sure there's people willing to eat themselves alive just to be in your place." Among other similar statements. Senpai isn't physically cruel unless giving out punishments for "bad behavior", so that's something to be greatful about I suppose. Even with the taunts and reprimands he speaks to you, he doesn't really mean them. Especially the ones about you being inferior in any regard. You're the definition of perfection in his eyes, to the extent he doesn't even really see himself being worthy of your love. But, nobody else is either. While he's not 100% worthy of an angel like you being by his side, he's more worthy than the people that surround the two of you. Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will? - Just like Spirit, the only other things he'd do against your will is take away your rights to freedom, family, friends, along with some other similar things. He doesn't want to traumatize you, and as much as his actions contradict the idea that he's far from a monster, he's truly not. He just wants what's best for your love. Is that really something that's worthy of him being called a monster? Senpai doesn't think so, not one bit. Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling? - All of it. His heart is an open book. Senpai wants to woo you, he wants you to know how adored you truly are. He wants you to know how much space you take up in his heart, and he'll do anything to show that to you. Whether it be by taking you out to a nice dinner after you've been on your best behavior for a while, or by murdering past enemies or foes, Sen will do virtually anything Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back? - Completely and utterly heartbroken. How could you, (Y/N)? Here he is, your precious and beloved Senpai, just wanting to take care of you, and this is the thanks he get's? Senpai's little heart will be absolutely crushed, and he'll be sure

to let you know that, even while he's angerly punishing you. Being the main love interest is literally in his code, basically the A.I. equivalent to DNA. He's not used to not winning a person's heart the minute he expresses interest, especially the heart of someone he's putting all his effort into romantically seducing. Senpai will go ballistic after such a rejection, throwing the closest thing to a toddler's temper tantrum that you'll be able to see in an almost full grown adult. Screaming, stomping, crying tears of pure rage, Senpai will display all of it right for you to witness in absolute fear and horror. Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape? - Is this a game to Senpai? Well, yeah. But only considering he's literally a game character himself. He still sees this as the silly dating mechanics from his own game. Even if this is real life, and even if this is completely against your will. He's not used to anything else, so he'll continue living his life and gaining your love the way he's been built to. Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them? - You're not really in the position to cheat on him considering he's holding you in complete isolation, but if you were to cheat on him? Whoo boy. Sen would react in a similar way to Spirit would, only 100x worse. The psychotic laugh yanderes are so infamous for, the brutality, the murder, and then the confrontation of you. A cheater, a liar, a betrayer. You'll pay for what you've done to Senpai, you won't get away with thinking you could pull him around like a toy. He loves you, but now he sees no other option, you must die for what you've done to him. It won't be quick either. No, you're going to feel exactly what you made him feel the moment he found you cheating on him. It's only fair, after all. An eye for an eye. But don't worry, your body will be in good hands! Senpai will still take care of you, and he forgives you for what you've done! Now the two of you can be happy together once again! No more distractions this time! Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling? - The usual...marriage, honeymoon, perhaps some kids or pets (but only if you want them, of course!). Senpai is really up to any kind of future, as long as it's with you, his beloved Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope? - Senpai is EXTREMELY jealous. He's suspicious of basically everyone you come into contact with, and you're always having to deal with him wrapping his arms around you from behind and gently laying down some boundaries for whoever you're just trying to talk to. Expect a few statements like/similar to, "Hey, worm! They're mine!", considering Sen is always trying to show people just how much you belong to him Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling? - Like some kind of flawless prince, but you know damn well that it's just a facade. He tries very hard to keep his yan tendencies hidden from you, but his emotional instability makes him fail miserably at that. But, that doesn't take away from the fact that he's *usually* acting very cool and charismatic Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling? - The usual things you'd see from a hopeless romantic...love letters, cards, poems, hand kisses, dinner dates, and everything else lovey dovey that people do to show a certain person how much they love them. Being a dating game character, Senpai is VERY good at courting anyone he seems romantically compatible Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else? - His true colors are different from the way he tries to appear, but they come out so much that the people closest to him (specifically meaning you, and only you, as all of his other friends are just a.i. in the game that he once took residence in)) consider it apart of his actual personality Naughty: How would they punish their darling? - Probably just by breaking things around the two of them as he screams at them

for whatever they did to anger him. Senpai is very childish, especially when he's rejected, but he's still able to be calmed. You just need to know exactly what to say and when to say it. Which...is shockingly hard, considering how unpredictable Senpai can be Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling? - Just like Spirit, he won't really take away any. But, he'll take away all of it if he feels as if he has to Patience: How patient are they with their darling? - Senpai's patience is quite literally in the lowest of negative numbers, so tread lightly, (Y/N). The slightest and smallest things can set Senpai into hour long rages Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on? - No. Not at all. Senpai would be absolutely devastated. He wouldn't be able to move on, you were his absolute everything. He can't imagine living a life without you, and he won't. Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go? - Regret? No! Absolutely not! Why should Senpai feel any regret? For loving his darling angel? No. That's nothing but foolish. There is no room for regret or shame in Senpai's heart, only love for you Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)? - Rejection is against Senpai's code. You weren't supposed to not want him romantically. Because of this, Senpai quite literally doesn't know how to react. So, he acts...insane? Obsessed? Call it what you want, but make sure its definition doesn't neglect his love for you. Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves? - Senpai would probably just get angrier. Why are you so upset?! Just love him, for fucks sake!! He just wants to take care of you, why won't you just let him? Stop being so difficult, let him take over, and things will be so much better for you! Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere? - Not really. Senpai is pretty much a walking stereotype, with a few small changes here and there. Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape? - His lovesickness, probably. Escaping Senpai would be hard to say the least, but not impossible. Just do the usual, try and act like a sufferer of Stockholm Syndrome and maybe you'll have a good chance at getting away from him Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling? - Without hesitation. If he needs to do it to get his point across, Sen would do it without hesitation. It's all for you, that fact alone removes any chance of hesitation or remorse Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over? - Senpai practically treats you like some overglorified love deity, the definition of a perfect partner. Perfect for him, at least. His entire heart is like an open book, but one that only you can read clearly. It's all for you, after all. Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap? - He's good up until he witnesses even the slightest sign of distance or rejection, then he snaps Zenith: Would they ever break their darling? - Like hurting you, he'd do it without any hesitation. It means nothing to him, unlike you. You mean everything, and he'd do everything and anything for you. This is basically nothing to him. He loves you, after all! More than anything else in his world.

[mx-metronome]

Sky Theory: The Light and The Darkness

A post about my thoughts on light, darkness, how they react to one another, and (possibly) what it all implies regarding the Eye of Eden. (Spoilers ahead!)

I wrote a post about the civilization we see rise and fall, but today we're going to delve a little deeper into how the story might really be going, from the conflict to the climax to a possible resolution.

To quote the game's story (from the updated Isle of Dawn):

"With the stars united, our light was infinite...and together, we lived in harmony."

It is well established that light is a valuable resource that the spirits relied on, and way back at the beginning, it was also a renewable one: Winged Light fell from the sky continuously, a symbol of innocence and purity as a gift from the Megabird. Because it was infinite, the spirits all flourished, and there was no squabbling over a scarcity.

"As spirits, we soon became many...creating our home here in the clouds."

Here is where the civilization really starts to grow, specifically in the Daylight Prairie stage. The spirits' needs are all met every day of every year. But somewhere down the line, their basic need wasn't enough for them anymore. As they grew in number, so too did they grow in curiosity and want.

"But darkness came and the stars fell...

This sentence here sums up the remainder of our story, although what take place over the course of this sentence is an entire age. Here's how I feel it goes down:

The darkness coming literally refers to darkstone being discovered, and how its potential in advancing the people tempts them away from the comfort of their infinite light. The spirits did not have the light ripped away from them: they chose the darkness over light and turned away willingly, severing themselves from the stars. The Winged Light stop falling and become a precious commodity.

So they toy with this newly discovered darkstone and find that it reacts to light: as light is applied to any kind of darkness, it gives off energy, a rudimentary sort of power generation. There are several pieces of evidence to confirm this:

Darkstone technology only activates when you apply your light to it.

In fact, whenever you activate a darkstone door in the Hidden Forest, you recharge a little bit of cape energy, suggesting excess energy is produced in the reaction.

Darkness plants, when exposed to light, are used up in the process (as they are less dense than darkstone), but they release candle wax in the reaction, a concentrated form of energy.

However, as mentioned above, you need light for the darkness to be of any use to advancements, and now that supply is finite. The spirits must now find alternate sources of light, and the only source available to them at this time is the creatures of light.

The prairie begins transporting butterflies en masse to the forest to be broken down, and their light is channeled through their dark machinations to keep things running. As the butterflies become scarce, they look to mantas instead, and so on.

The civilization continues to grow and with it their demand for light, but the supply continues to dwindle. The scarcity of light is now threatening the people, and an ultimatum must be reached. They need a reliable, renewable source of power, one that can run almost indefinitely, so the King has one built, for the future of his people and their way of life. That's right: the Eye of Eden was never a weapon, but a near-infinite energy source, like a nuclear plant.

The finest engineers gather at the capital city and splice together mass quantities of darkstone into one megalith, only requiring enough light to kickstart a chain reaction. The reaction would cause a feedback loop: the energy emitted by the light-dark reaction would be enough light to perpetuate the reaction for an extended period of time, and any excess energy can be harvested or siphoned off and used to power the grid.

The people have spread far and wide and into different factions, each jealously guarding what little light they have left, knowing the King has intent to seize it. Skirmishes turn into battles turn into a full scale war. The desperation of each front has them all take the glorious darkness and turn it into weapons, and in this production of arms the people are failing to realize the true long-term side effects of utilizing darkness: pollution.

The weapons are produced as close to the front lines as the people could safely manage, hence the heavy pollution in the Golden Wasteland, just outside the capital. The water becomes thick and near impossible to sail through; the light from the light creatures begins to react to the darkness in the air and water, hence the presence of krill and dark crabs twisted by the corrupting dusts. The people try to infiltrate the capital city to seize the light that the King was hoarding. Perhaps some of the elders were even privvied to the King's plan and were working to defend him to save their own factions of people. Perhaps some of the elders even fought each other over differing ideals regarding the new generator.

As a last-ditch effort, the King moves the generator to as close to the sky as he can in a futile attempt to harness the holy light of the stars they had turned away from ages before. He hopes that the reaction will reach high enough to begin drawing in star power, slowly draining the heavens to keep his people alive.

He gathers any light left in the capital city and sends it through the machine, and the reaction kicks off in an instant. The power is greater than the engineers had calculated, and it is too great for them to harness; the wave of energy is massive enough to wipe out most of the denizens in the city within the first few seconds. The displacement of energy creates fierce winds and kicks up poisonous dust clouds, even scooping up entire bricks and boulders and flinging them through the air.

The mighty capital begins to crumble under the weight of this blazing light, and the flinging rocks tear down surrounding cities, picking up more debris as it grinds away at buildings. The dark dusts scatter across the land, settling over what few survivors remain, reacting to their inner Light and encasing them in stone, leaving them with no light left to return to Orbit whence they came.

The people had fallen to the darkness and its powerful properties, using up all their precious light to maintain their mortal existence. Now there is no light left and no way home. All that is left of their existence is husks of darkness, broken bones of old cities, and a radioactive storm with an unholy hybrid of light and darkness at it center that will run its course for thousands of years more.

"...and with their light we faded away."

...But not without one last plea.

"A long time has passed. Now we call to you."

In their last few moments, some groups of people, those who still had faith that they'd rejoin the stars, began to pray. They stated prophecies, chanted incantations into the sky, erected shrines with candles, hoping that their selfless offerings of light would grant them grace. That somehow Megabird would hear their cries and send them a chance at redemption, a chance at attaining Her inner Light once again.

And so the Megabird sent down the Winged Light again, hoping it would be enough to begin healing the land. But She did not quite understand the inner workings of this darkness, for it was beyond Her: this Light was fragile, and couldn't stand up against the darkness that swallowed the sky. She needed a vessel able to carry this Light safely into the heart of darkness where Her people slumbered.

So She learned of the darkness and how it cancelled out Light, and in response, she created the first sky kids.

"Go forth, child. Return our spirits to the stars."

Sky kids are different from spirits in many ways. Firstly, spirits are also creatures of light in that they originate from Orbit. It was their go-to source of energy and sustenance. But that connection between the spirits and all the light they'd ever need was so easily broken by the want that darkness produced, and their sensitivity to this darkness made them fall prey easily when it fell out of control.

By contrast, sky kids were created as instruments of the Megabird, shells carrying Her fragile Light within. They are not beings of pure light, but that's the point: they were designed to withstand darkness, and granting them a corporeal form provides more protection for Her Light from darkness than otherwise.

So the first sky kids go and deliver their inner Light to what fallen spirits they can find. The elders see the coming of the sky kids as Megabird's answer to their pleas, as Her Light is within them, and as the sky kids present their Light to the elders, they are able to reconnect with the stars and send up the spirits freed from darkness. So begins the pilgrimage back to Orbit, spearheaded by an army of children.

The first sky kids free some of the spirits and then head to the capital where light and darkness collide, the point nearest the stars. Megabird's intent was for the collected Winged Light in the hands of the sky kids to be enough pure Light to dispel the storm, but the darkness is too great, and as the Light was torn from them, they had no Light left to keep away the darkness, and they fell at the summit with no way of returning to Her.

So She sent more sky kids, thinking greater numbers would aid Her will. But two things began to happen, things She did not foresee: the sky kids, blank slates with no discernable emotions or features, learned from the spirits they saved: they learned how to wave hello, they learned how to laugh, how to cry, how to cheer, and so on. They even began taking on some of the fashions from the spirits! They presented individuality, suggesting that Megabird's Light was more than just pure Light: it was also a soul in its own right, much like the spirits that came before.

The second thing that happened was at the summit of the Eye of Eden, as it came to be called: when the sky kids realized their Winged Light wouldn't survive the Storm, they passed it on to fallen sky kids instead so that they may ascend back to Orbit and rejoin Megabird, at the cost of their own ascension. This soul of Light each sky kid carried not only established a personality, but also compassion, as Her Light was always meant to do. Sky kids were drawn to one another, and they started to work like teams and help one another out. They gave each other offerings of light as symbols of friendship and acceptance, not unlike the spirits' desperate offerings of light and candles to Megabird.

The Eye of Eden is the purest, most powerful light colliding with the purest, most potent darkness, which makes it an ideal euphemism for death: suffering and then release. It is the door to Orbit, but their possessions - their Winged Light - will be left behind. They only carry their deeds in their darkest time, which they are rewarded for after the fact.

When they came to Orbit at last, Megabird lauded them for their sacrifice and kindness, and invited them to remain with Her. But many of them expressed distress and dismay for all the sky kids still down in the clouds that needed help, and all the friends that they would miss. So She sent them back with two boons: additional Light granted by the spirits they helped ascend, and the knowledge needed to guide other sky kids back to Her.

Even if not everyone would rejoin Her in the Light, it brought Her comfort that Her Light was spread across an aching kingdom, sharing hope and peace to those who couldn't be near to Her.

[melody-of-lost-souls]

THE LAST (what a waste of time)

These are, from my point of view, some inconsistences I found from this movie. Not a proper analysis, just my thoughts.

I dont know where to start but first with Naruto.

I have seen all the Shippuden Movies, from 1 -Death of Naruto , to this one number 7. Almost in all these movies there was a princess or a girl who will be his "companion" across the events of the movie. We had Shion, Amaru, also the Snow princess- movie 1 from Part 1- and etc. In all of them, Naruto had chemistry with them. Not an amazing relationship since we have short time, an 1 hour and half, but there wasn't this akwardness and discomfort around the female co-protagonist.

With Hinata this happened. The Naruto we saw here, it's completely different from the person and shining boy we see until 479. I know, 2 years passed but in Shippuden 3 years passed , and we saw the transition from a kid naruto -12 yo.- to a 15/6 y.o. boy entering in adolescence. Two different evolutive stages, and yet he was the same shingin boy we know; of course he matured AND HE MATURED WITH SO MUCH MORE EMOTIONAL INTELLIGENCE.

There are many fact wrong in this movie. First, across the whole thing he looks almost desolated, very quiet and akward. Coy, someone who doesnt know how to interact with hinata despite the fact that across all the manga, he never had problems to deal and talk with her.

Anyway, then we have Sakura insulting, because that what she did, him and saying that maybe "he doesnt know what love is" and Naruto also nods, to don't know what Love is. We are talking about the same Naruto, at age of 12, who made Zabuza Momochi cry

Then we have Sai, saying that when Naruto was whispering Hinata's name in dreams, Sai heard his sentimental spot, he didn't know Naruto had. And It was helping. Again, we are talking about the same naruto who said this to Sai

And I could quote many other scenes but this will be too long.

Then it takes just 30 minutes from the start of the movie to Naruto to "realize" with a epiphany of Jesus, that he ...loves hinata. What I see here is a glimpse of guilt tripping.

Other Inconsistence. they had to make Naruto fall in a Genjutsu -which theorically jinchuriki can not!- in order to let him realize Hinata was in love with him. Also, with the experience of Game of thrones ( i know, i know 2 totally different things but) but with the last shitty season they used the same resource that it was used here. Spit all the facts in your face, again and again just in case you dont forget that naruto HAS to fall in love with Hinata. Because we have this forced scenes between them all the damn time, at the expense of a Naruto totally ooc who can not interact properly with a mate that he knows since genin times. Also we have this recurrent scene from the academy Days, which was never shown on the manga, about some Iruka's class always repeating the quote "Whom would you spend your last day on earth?" Also, they made us recall a love confession that happened ALMOST 3 YEARS AGO, pain's arc, in which Naruto was absolutely indifferent about it until 699.

And it's not even that in these 2 years between movie and anime finale, that we see some approachment and more development between them (same with SS) because IS IN THE MOVIE, in this like 2/3 days that movie events takes place, where Naruto """realizes""" about Hinata's feelings. He literally just took days xD And it's inconsistent because with Sasuke he toook YEARS to set his true feelings AND EVEN THO when Sasuke asked him what A FRIEND means to him? He didn't know how to put that in words.

Following this logic, if a """friend""" took him all this time, i can imagine how it would be with the love of your life.

Also, worth to mention. All the Moon-symbolism stolen from Sasuke's figure. Across the last arc of manga we had a strong portrayal of how Naruto and Sasuke were Sun and Moon respectively.

* Another inconsistence, Naruto doing the ShadowClone jutsu at that short age. Yes, he doesn't make them properly but they were better that what we have seen in Naruto Episode 1. Also, in this movie he did 2 clones, mini clones, but they were capable of speaking, moving, and they were identical to naruto, the only flaw was the size. In episode 1, what he made was a really bad-almost dead-copy

And now some really random stuff that when i was watching this, i thought for a moment this was like Dragon ball.

-Why the fuck they had to fight ON THE SURFACE OF THE MOON? This was IDENTICAL to that episode from Power Rangers Red Forever where all the red rangers fight on the moon surface in order to defeat the bad guy.

I know this is fiction, and we are in fictional world. But naruto never went that far to talk about astronomical phenomena such as "THE MOON IS FALLING IN PIECES AND METHEORS ARE FALLING FROM THE SKY" and we.. We plan on destroying the moon.

Yes, I remember Tsukuyomi Infinite and stuff, but this is very different and came out SP asses.

In conclusion, I think i'm forgetting some things but anyway. This is a bad movie, what a surprise, not JUST because of the ship -i mean yes jeje- but because of all the inconsistences, the out of characterization, the rush on making naruto fall in love with hinata at expenses of some guilt, akwardness, and in 30 fucking minutes.

For being the only Naruto canon movie, it's very poor. I could quote Bonds #2 movie, Naruto's Death #1, Last Tower #4, even Road to ninja, as better material with better plots than this one.

[beau-draws-and-cries]

Late Night Demonics - Hunter Clawthorne AU Oneshot

Summary: Hunter is still adapting to the little demon sharing the bedroom with him

Tags: Hunter clawthorne au, king clawthorne, the owl house, fluff

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33452722

"Psst. Hunter. Hunter. Hunter." King baped him on the face. 

"What!" Hunter said, annoyed by being woken up when he was almost dozing off. The small demon was on his chest, holding one of the plushies Eda gave to him, with those big yellow and pink eyes seemingly staring into his soul "What do you want??? Stop baping me!"

"I, huh, need to go to the bathroom." He muttered, like he was ashamed of asking for it.

"You know where the bathroom is." Hunter said, a bit dry, trying to get into a comfortable position again. 

King looked between the door and Hunter, whimpering a bit, and when Hunter closed his eyes, King baped him on the face again.

"I really, really, really need to go." Now he got sad eyes on, begging something without words, the said eyes slightly glowing into the dim light. Hunter groaned, it looked like he had no choice. He slowly got up, and King went to the floor, near Hunter's leg. 

On the corridor, Hunter was already really annoyed and it got worse when something cracked on the house and King hugged his leg tightly, closing his eyes and whining. When he looked down to King to yell for him to let go of him, something hit Hunter like a truck. That was an actual demon child. Small, scared, needing comfort. He could talk like he knew about stuff and like he lived a long life before being this small child, but King was a 4 years old or so that still was scared of the dark and other stuff, and needed help to stop being scared and just…. Go to the bathroom.  

"Hey, huh, that sound is Hooty snoring. The walls are kinda alive so sometimes the whole house breathes. It freaked me out a lot when I moved here because it seemed like the house would fall apart with me inside. But after you get used to, it's kinda soothing." Hunter calmed him down, remembering that that was how Eda explained it to him on the second week he spent there.

"Really?" The house breathed again, making him scared, but not as much as before, looking around instead of hiding his face into Hunter's leg.

"See? Not scary at all. Just old Hooty-hoot doing his… stuff." They kept walking down the corridor, and finally got into the bathroom. King quickly used it, feeling brave enough to close the door while at it (which Hunter thanked), and then Hunter helped him to reach the sink and wash his paws.

"Every time you come here, wash your paws well. You can get sick and get other people sick if you don't."

King nodded, doing as he was told, and was put on the floor again. They walked half of the corridor when Hunter scooped him up, seeing that his small, short legs were getting tired, and after all, the fur and bone didn't feel that bad against his skin, unlike other witches' skin (one of the reasons he hated the playground. The kids would keep hugging him and touching without asking. And for some reason it always felt sticky and made Hunter want to cry and throw up at the same time), so he could stand it brushing on his arms.

He walked back into the bedroom, putting King into his bed and tucking him in, then laying down on his own bed.

"Night night." King said.

"Night night, little guy." Hunter answered.

"When I get back my powers, I will be remembering this." He said, again telling that story of his powers being stolen with his crown.

"Thank you, King. I would be honored." Hunter played along, smiling. Some minutes passed and Hunter felt something climbing his bed, getting on his chest "Need to go to the bathroom again?" 

"I can't sleep."

"Oh. Well, I am kinda awake too. Huh, have you ever read Demonics: a detailed encyclopedia?" 

"No! What is that?" 

"It's a book I checked in from the library a while ago. It's very interesting, but I never had an actual demon to read it with me." Hunter smiled at him, and got up to get the book in his wardrobe. After sitting on the bed, he lit up his bedside light and King cuddled up in his arms, looking at the book "Do you wanna choose a chapter or can we start from the beginning?"

"I wanna start from the beginning!" King said, excited. Hunter did so, starting to read the introduction for him, and at some point King stopped him "How do you know this is written there?"

"Oh, huh, I read the words on the page. Those formed by the little letters."

"What letter is that?" King pointed to a number 5.

"That's a number. They're used for counting things. Its name is number five. Here, let me show you the numbers. There's one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight and nine. There's also the zero that means nothing. Then you can mix and match to form bigger numbers." He skipped to the last page of the encyclopedia "Like the number 867." 

"That's a lot of numbers." King said, amazed.

"Yea, and those are the meanings." Hunter proceeded to show the numbers but now with his hands, closing the hands to show zero. King seemed to be interested, tail waving lightly "Then we got twenty, thirty, fourty… and we go on and on and on and on because numbers are infinite."

"What does infinity means?" King asked, raising his small fingers (claws?) To try to count them.

"It means that something never ends."

"Woah, that's so cool! I hope this book never ends."

"Sorry buddy, but we got only like, 820 pages worth of content. But after we're done with this one, we can get another book at the library."

"And then it will be infinite?"

"Well, no." Hunter said, scratching King's head "But there's a whole lot of books, and it would take a very long time to read all of them. It would look infinite for us." 

King closed his eyes, getting comfier into Hunter arms. After sometime like this, he opened his eyes again, pointing at a letter B on the page.

"What is this letter?"

"It's the letter B. Boiling Isles starts with a B."

"Ohh. So all words start with letters?"

"Yes, all words, like my name or yours."

"And which letter is the first on my name?"

Hunter looked on the page for a K, and got a piece of paper and pen from the drawer. He pointed at a letter K.

"It starts with this letter." He then wrote it on paper "Then there's an I. Can you copy the letter I am pointing at the paper?" He handed the pen, and King nodded, making a shaky I after the K "And now there's an N." He pointed at the N, and waited until King copied it "And then a G. K-I-N-G. King. That is your name."

King cheered, asking for another piece of paper and writing his name over and over. After he got tired of writing the same thing, he cuddled up on Hunter's lap again.

"Can we continue the book?" 

"Sure thing, King." Hunter nodded, continuing to read the book for the small demon, until eventually both fell asleep.

[nonbinaryparent]

What a day. Long story time.

In retrospect, i kept telling myself, i could also not go to the farewell ceremony of my grandmother. But i did. It was both more horrible and filled with love than i could have expected.

But wow. My parents, who i deliberately don't see, were of course there. My father had gotten hold of my phone number although I had repeatedly made clear i don't want to have contact by phone. He had, without announcing who he was, sent me two texts beforehand. I had blocked and deleted it.

So on this glorious day where we are supposed to be remembering good stuff about my grandmother's life, they both literally cornered me. I was next to my cool uncle who's always joking which saved my spine. I am writing this down so i can remind myself of this out of world spiritual experience.

They were all how are you doing and why don't you talk to us and we miss you. I responded in single word answers. I think it was obvious i was highly uncomfortable with what they were doing. As usual they didn't care about such things. By some miracle my mother left somewhere during the conversation. My father asked if I had gotten his texts. I said i don't want to be contacted through phone. How then, he asked, as if he didn't know the answer. By email, i said. He went on to ask but how can we get into contact? And the often said, i don't understand why, even when I already explained several times that i first want to talk about the past and not pretend everything is alright when it never was. So i said, that is part of the problem, but we're not here for that today.

He agreed. And flipped! I do not remember him lossing his cool so badly before, at least not to me. I was nearly scared. His last famous words, i am giving you all the time you need, but there is a limit! I was very cool because i simply repeated, that's not what we're here for today. He left. Classic abuser words, i am well aware. My uncle was awesome and reassured me and supported me and joked a bit. I never felt so loved by anyone on this side of the family.

Driving back i was overwhelmed with shock at my father's outburst, though in hindsight from what I've read from others, this was to be expected. How could anything ever be their fault? It would have to be mine, that's why he is 'giving me all the time', except he isn't cause there is a mysterious limit that apparent i should fear. It must be so nice not wanting to know he already surpassed my limit long ago and i have zero intention of contacting him ever. I lost my feeble hope of reconciliation today and it was very freeing. Not just goodbye to my grandmother, but more to them.

And the love. The overwhelming love and support from my uncle, i could almost cry with joy. That I live to experience this strong belonging is almost worth the epic failures of my parents today.

They suck they suck they suck. I liked to make believe that one day they will realize they suck, but it's not going to happen, because they suck. I am already infinitely a better parent and adult depsite their treatment, because I know how not to be like them. I'm very much open to feedback and criticism and finding ways to improve myself or a situation, even if it means it doesn't work out. I listen to my kids and take them seriously. I'm not a perfect parent cause that doesn't exist, but i value the kids as human beings with their own needs and wants and opinions. Sometimes too much.

My parents suck, but that doesn't mean i suck. They treated me badly, but that doesn't mean i deserved that, ever. And i got better things to do with my life than get dragged down into this nonsense. They don't even know how old I am.

For real, future me, if you're rereading this. There's so many wonderful lovely people in your life. Contact them and talk with them and hug them. Life is beautiful with them. I'm so proud of you today, keeping your cool. And even if you don't, that's fine too.

Such a long story and not a word about how wonderful my grandmother was in teaching me to draw with watercolors, card games and board games, making soup for me and yoghurt with oats, how she survived bombing in the second world war and moved cross country. I'm sure theres a million things i don't know about, but these are the things i do know. She was magnificent and is proud of me.

[babybluebex]

english love affair [tom holland x reader]

➽ pairing: tom holland x fem!reader ➽ word count: 2.1k ➽ summary: you attend the bronx school of science, and you’re immediately taken by the new student: ben perkins. ➽ warnings: deception ig?  ➽ a/n: PART 1! no idea how many parts this is gonna be, but stick around! (taglist link is in bio)

As soon as you stepped off the bus, you heard the chattering that only came from one occurrence. A new kid. That confused you, though. It certainly wasn’t unheard of for kids to drop in halfway through the semester, but, at your school, it was rare. The Bronx School of Science was an elite high school and it took amazing test scores and the grace of God to get in, so a new kid in the middle of the year was a rarity. 

You saw him the moment you walked into your first period chemistry class. After all, he was the only face you didn’t recognize. Dark, curly hair that was just a bit long, with rosy cheeks and wide brown eyes. He seemed nervous; as new kids usually were. He wore a red hoodie, his hands shoved deep into the front pocket, and he was looking all around the room. The seat next to him was empty and, while it wasn’t your usual place, there was no formal seating chart. “You new?” you asked, swinging your backpack to the floor. 

The boy looked at you with a keen alertness in his dark eyes, and he swallowed thickly. “Yeah,” he laughed softly. He sounded a little Queens, maybe; perhaps even Brooklyn. “Just, uh… Just moved here.” 

“Nice,” you said. “From where?” 

The boy clenched his jaw. “Queens,” he said, and you nodded. 

“Well, welcome to the Bronx,” you laughed. “I’m Y/N.”

“Ben,” he said quickly. “Ah, Ben Perkins.” 

“Ben Perkins from Queens,” you repeated. “What brings you here?”

Ben shrugged. “Parents,” he mumbled simply. Ben seemed like a guy of few words, but you didn’t mind too much. It was a welcome change from the other guys at your school who wouldn’t shut up. 

You decided to not really say much to Ben. If he didn’t feel like talking, you didn’t want to push him and make him uncomfortable. The first day at a new school was stressful. “If you need help with any classes or anything, just let me know. Getting into the routine here is hard as shit.” 

“Thanks,” Ben told you with a nod. “That’s quite nice.” 

You couldn’t place why the usage of the word “quite” tickled the back of your brain. Maybe because you had never heard anyone use it like that. “You’re quite welcome,” you replied, biting the tip of your tongue. Ben looked at you and the rosiness in his cheeks grew deeper as he smiled. 

The class started normally, until your teacher got to the Ps on the roll sheet. “Oh!” she cried. “We have a new student! Benjamin Perkins!”

Ben’s face grew red, this time not from laughter. He gave a quick two-finger to the class, and he mumbled, “Just Ben is fine, actually.” 

“Welcome to the Bronx School, Ben,” your teacher said. “I’m sure you’ll do great here.” 

About halfway through the lesson, you looked at the boy sitting beside you. He wore jeans and scuffed sneakers with the red hoodie, a dark curl bouncing along his forehead as he looked at the board and diligently copied notes. He was cute, a lot cuter than any boys you knew, and you wondered what he was like when he was in his element. His hands were big, veins popping as he gripped his pencil tightly. You took a second look at the mechanical pencil, and your heart soared. Quickly, you ripped a page out of your notebook and scribbled a quick “i like your pencil :)”, and you passed it over to Ben. 

He tore his attention away from the lecture for long enough to look at your note, then at the pencil. It was red and blue with various white spiderwebs all around it. You liked the Spiderman pencil; your dad had practically raised you on the Toby Maguire Spiderman movies, so you liked anything Spiderman. In fact, you had been Spiderman for Halloween three years in a row when you were little. Not Spiderwoman, you said, Spiderman. Ben wrote something down and gave you the paper back, and you bit your lip as you read his message. 

“spiderman’s pretty cool i guess. you like the movies?”

“yeah!! toby maguire’s awesome”

“cool. i like them too :)”

You invited Ben to sit with you at lunch, and he did. You usually sat alone, and you secretly liked having Ben there with you. You two talked about Spiderman, mostly: how Toby was a better Peter Parker but Andrew Garfield was the better Spiderman. “You know,” you started. “In the comics, Peter Parker becomes, like, an intern for Tony Stark. Tony makes him this suit and he becomes the Iron Spider.” 

“Really?” Ben said. His eyebrows went up, and he scratched at a few upturned hairs. “That sounds cool.”

“I wish they’d add Spiderman to the MCU,” you added. “I think he’d fit really well with everyone, ya know? I mean, I guess they’d have to cast the right guy, but…” You shrugged. “A girl can dream, right?” 

“Sure thing,” Ben said. “I like Robert Downey Jr. a lot, he seems really fun.” 

“Oh, definitely!” you agreed. “And Chris Evans! Man, I’d love to meet them, I would just die right there.” 

Ben smiled and nodded along with you, and he slotted his chin into his palm as he listened to you chatter about Avengers: Age of Ultron and Ant-Man. There was a hint of a smile on his lips, and you stopped mid sentence when you noticed it. “I just think Elizabeth Olsen is so underrated, and-- Ben. You alright?” 

Ben blinked a few times. “Yeah,” he said. “M’all good. Just listening to you.” 

You flushed. “I’m not talking too much?” you asked, feeling the urge to sink into yourself. “I’ve been told I do that.” 

“No, not at all,” Ben said quickly. “I like it. I like how people get when they get excited about something, you know? It’s cute.” 

“Cute,” you repeated, rolling the word around your mouth. Did Ben just call you cute? Or did he call the whole concept of your dumb blathering about some movies cute? Did that still qualify as calling you cute? You raised your eyes to his and, nervously picking at a loose thread on your sweater, hazarded, “You think I’m cute?” 

Ben shrugged. “I mean, yeah,” he said, as if it was obvious. “You just seem so passionate about those movies. I would listen to you talk about them for a long time.” 

“You wouldn’t want to.”

“I do,” Ben said quickly. “I promise you, I don’t mind one bit. I’d tell you if I did.” 

You nodded again, and you scooted just a bit closer to Ben. “For the record,” you started. “I think you’re cute too.” 

Ben smiled, little dimples appearing in his cheeks. “Cool.” 

Before the day ended, Ben had given you his phone number. “I don’t have Snapchat or anything,” he said. “Strict parents, ya know? But I’d love to talk to you.” 

You liked the way that Ben texted. He used a lot of emojis and even a few goofy emoticon faces, a la 2012, and he signed every text off with xx. With texting, you felt like Ben was a little more open than at school, probably because it was just the two of you, completely private. And, man, did the boy talk. He sent two, three, four messages in a row, just spewing thoughts the second he thought them. You didn’t mind one single bit, though; but your parents did. 

Even though the sound was off and your phone was in your pocket, the entire dinner table could hear your phone buzzing. “Is someone calling you?” your dad asked. “Your phone just keeps going off.” 

“Oh, no,” you said, your face going warm. Quickly, you pulled out your phone and set it completely silent, and the buzzing ceased. “Sorry. Just texts.”

“From who?” you mom asked. 

“A boy from school,” you began, fully intent on explaining the situation, but your little brother was quicker to the uptake than you. 

“Ooh, Y/N has a boyfriend!” he squealed. 

“Shut up, you little fungus!” you hissed. Brothers of any age were unbearable, but 13 was an especially difficult age, you had come to find. 

“Don’t call your brother a fungus,” you mom sighed. “That boy’s texting you an awful lot, though, Y/N.” 

You shrugged. “He’s new,” you said. “Just asking questions about school and stuff.”

“And his name?” your dad asked. 

“Ben Perkins,” you said. “He just moved from Queens.” 

“He’s a senior?” your mom asked and, when you nodded, her eyebrows creased. “That poor boy, moving schools in the middle of his senior year. Well, good for you, making new friends. I bet he really appreciates you.” 

Tom slumped himself down on the couch. You weren’t answering his texts and, while he knew that you probably had homework or were eating dinner or any number of other things, he couldn’t help the anxiety that filled him at the thought that maybe he had scared you off. 

Tom hadn’t had a normal high school experience by any means. Sure, secondary school was a thing that was semi-normal, but normal in the sense that everyone around him was in the same boat. And he was certain that British secondary school was a hell of a lot different than American high school. Hence, the joke that had landed him here.

“It would be funny if I went to an American high school for a few days. Just to see what it’s like, ya know?” 

Apparently, Anthony and Joe Russo didn’t seem to understand his British sense of humor, because he was on a flight to New York within the week. The Russos had helped him come up with the bare bones of a backstory: Ben Perkins, originally from Queens. American. 17. Quiet. It was a far cry from Tom Holland, originally from London, British, 19, and loud. But the Russos, in their infinite wisdom, had seen through Tom’s joke and understood something that was integral to the character that had taken Tom a few days to really see. 

Peter B. Parker was a high schooler. A smart one, an unusual one, but he was still 15 and trying to understand himself and the world. Tom didn’t have that knowledge; at least, not in the way that Peter Parker would have had it. He needed to see the inside of an American high school to get to the core of his character, and even Tom understood that. The filming for Captain America: Civil War hadn’t started and the news of Spidey’s introduction into the Marvel Cinematic Universe hadn’t hit the airwaves yet, but Tom knew that, if his contract was to be upheld in the way that Sony and Marvel had promised, he would have plenty of time to use this high school experience to better the character. 

Tom really and truly did not intend to develop a crush on a girl. Yes, a beautiful, smart, and funny girl that shared a love for the same things he did, but he was sure that the Russos would disapprove of it. After all, he was only slated to go to the Bronx School of Science for three days. There wasn’t nearly enough time to have anything more than a crush. But you. There was something about you, something intangible. He had felt a pull in his stomach when you first walked into the room and, when he had texted Harry about it, his brother had only laughed at him and made a joke about wanting to get his dick wet. And, yes, while that thought was in Tom’s mind, you were already so much more to him than that. 

As much as Ben Perkins was a character, Tom felt like he could be himself around you. He had shared stories from growing up, mostly about his brothers pulling shenanigans, and had shown you pictures of him and Tessa when he had first gotten her. The little squeal and sigh that had left you when you saw the puppy made his heart swell. Then, he had said something that still made his stomach turn: “Maybe you can meet her soon.” 

What a great fucking thing to say to someone that he would have to abandon in three days. Sure, he could keep texting you after he left, but he would have to explain everything to you. He knew what your reaction would be, too; somewhere along the lines of laughing at him and going, “Dude, you’re fuckin’ nuts, bro.” Or, on the other end of the spectrum, getting mad at him for lying to you. He was sure that you would be more mad than amused. And, after the conversation that you two had shared about your requited love for Spiderman, he knew that trying to tell you wouldn’t land him anywhere except alone again. 

And, God. Tom was tired of being alone. 

[hufflepuffhermione]

I’m on a Dad Josh kick - let’s go with 37. “Welcome to fatherhood.” if you feel like it? Thank you!

More fluffy future fic for you, because I also cannot get enough of Dad Josh.

Thanksgiving 2010

Josh closes the door behind him, pausing for a brief minute to ensure there’s no crying. He’s finally managed to get Noah down for a nap in the Pack’N’Play they’ve set up in what used to be Liz’s bedroom. He had refused to go down that morning for a pre-Thanksgiving nap, but by the time Abbey was starting to clear away the plates, it was clear that he was not going to last much longer.

That didn’t mean he went down without a fight, however.

Josh takes a deep breath when he puts his ear to the door one last time and hears silence. At all of seventeen months, Noah has definitely inherited his father’s stubborn streak. But if he’s down, he’ll get a good two hours of sleep and then they’ll have to fight him to step again that night.

Such are the joys of having a toddler. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Still, Josh thought he knew exhaustion. He’d certainly had his share of sleepless nights and had kept going for years on the few hours of sleep he could manage to snatch. But fatherhood is a different kind of tiring, and he isn’t as young as he used to be. He hasn’t slept through a whole night in three weeks.

That isn’t Noah’s fault, though. That’s the fault of the little bundle currently in the arms of the former President of the United States.

“She’s a good sleeper, this one,” Jed says, looking up at Josh as he enters the living room. Donna and Abbey and Zoey are all in the kitchen, and Charlie is somewhere with their six-month old, also trying to induce a nap.

Josh chuckles and takes a seat on the couch next to Jed. “Only during the day. At night, she’s wide awake for every feeding and hates to go back down again.”

“Welcome to fatherhood. Still, a nicer reason for sleepless nights than being stuck in the situation room, huh?”

“Infinitesimally better,” Josh replies, reaching out to stroke his daughter’s light hair. He hopes she’ll look just like Donna.

Jed smirks. “You do know, Josh, that while the word ‘infinite’ refers to a limitless amount, the word ‘infinitesimal’ actually indicates a very small number, so what you’re telling me is that it’s only barely better to wake up to your daughter crying than to troop movements in Kazakhstan?”

“See, sir, I don’t dread going into the Oval Office anymore because I know President Santos won’t lecture me on vocabulary.”

“Nonsense, you miss me in there,” Jed scoffs. “Will I ever convince you to call me Jed, though?

“Not a chance.”

His face softens as he asks the question he’s been waiting to ask this whole time. “You’re really stepping down at the end of the term?”

Josh bites his lip and nods. “Yes.”

“Why?”

He clears his throat. “Um… quite a few reasons. You know as well as anybody that working in the White House can burn you out, and very rarely does a Chief of Staff last longer than a term. Leo was unique.” It still makes his heart clench to think about Leo, and it’s not lost on him that the length of Leo’s tenure was not disconnected from his death. “And I’ve been in there for almost twelve years, give or take a few. I love the work, and I know it’s the most important work I’ll ever do, but… there are more important things in my life now.” He looks down to smile at his daughter. “And several doctors, including your wife, have told me I’d benefit from a lower-stress lifestyle. I want to be around to see my kids grow up, sir, and there are some potential obstacles to that but I’m doing all that I can to stay healthy and be around for them.”

“Those are all excellent reasons, Josh.”

“Do you know, it’s interesting, this summer when I was debating whether or not I’d stay on if we got another term… something you said came to me.”

Jed nods. “What did I say?”

“It was during the whole debacle with the Surgeon General, and Ellie made a comment to a reporter, and you didn’t fire the Surgeon General because of it and…” Josh shakes his head and smiles. “I didn’t think it was the right move, because it would look like you did it because Ellie wanted you to.”

“And what did I tell you?”

“That when I had a daughter, I’d discover there are worse reasons in the world to do something.” Josh lets himself chuckle. “When Donna and I found we were having a daughter, well… that’s the moment I knew that even if we won, I wasn’t going to go back for a second term.”

Jed looks down at the infant in his arms, who has just opened her eyes. “I think she appreciates that,” he says. His arms are starting to feel weak—while the reduced stress has certainly kept his health in check, he’s still prone to weakness—and so he shifts the baby into Josh’s arms. “I’ve kept her away from you long enough.”

“She’s named after you, you know.”

“Josie?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Josh says. He meets his daughter’s bright blue eyes and can’t chase the feeling of being mesmerized.

“I had my suspicions.”

“Well, Donna’s father is Joseph, so it’s partially for him. And for Josiah, of course. And it sounds a little like Joanie—my sister,” his voice tightens imperceptibly, “but it’s still something all her own.”

Jed reaches out to put a hand on Josh’s arm. “It’s lovely.”

“I can’t get enough of her. I mean, I felt the same with Noah, but I wasn’t sure with the second if I would… but it really doesn’t go away,” Josh whispers reverently as Josie closes her eyes again. “I want to be here for all her moments. I missed Noah’s first steps because I was in the situation room. I don’t want to… I mean, I know they won’t remember it, but I will, and now that Noah is going to start remembering things… I want to be a part of his life. I want to be a part of Josie’s life. I don’t want to be absent because I’m too busy with work.”

“Admirable. What next for you, then? I find it hard to imagine you tolerating unemployment well.”

Josh shakes his head. “No, I don’t do boredom. I’ve got a couple offers from universities—I might teach a few courses at Georgetown—and I could always do consulting. And I may have reached the peak of my career, but Donna certainly hasn’t hit hers. I’ve got big plans for her. When Haake out in the Wisconsin 2nd retires, which is still a little ways off but he’s in his seventies and I know he’s starting to think about it, I want her to run for his seat.”

“Donna in Congress? Well that’s an idea. You’d move to Wisconsin?”

“Part-time, probably. I could consult from anywhere and frankly, make a lot more money doing that than drawing a government salary. But I don’t imagine we’ll ever fully leave DC.” He lets out a sigh. “But Haake’s got another three or four terms left in him, so we’ve got a while before that happens. For now, she’s staying on with Mrs. Santos but I know the President is hoping to poach her and bring her to the West Wing.” He looks down at Josie and chuckles again. “Your mama’s really quite in demand, isn’t she?”

Jed loves the scene in front of him; while years ago he might not have been able to imagine Josh as a father, now he can’t imagine the younger man as anything but. “You’re really at peace with leaving. I never thought you’d get out of politics willingly—I figured they’d have to drag you out by your ankles.”

“I’m not getting out of politics, just… taking a backseat,” Josh says. “I’ve got other plans, too; there’s a Senate seat in California opening up in the midterms and I want it to be Sam’s.” He quiets, blinking reflectively. “How do you do it, sir? Leave the White House?”

Jed pats Josh’s knee and stands up slowly. “As long as you keep calling me sir, I feel like I never left,” he jokes. “You see the bigger picture. Realize there’s more to life.”

Josh leans into the back of the couch and shifts Josie so that she’s on his chest and shoulder. “You couldn’t have convinced me of that five years ago, but…there certainly is.”

“I’m proud of you, Josh,” Jed says, and Josh doesn’t think he’s ever received a better compliment. “Now, I think we’ve gone too long without bothering our wives, and I’ve found some room within me to consume some pie.”

Josh leans his head back and smiles. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

He closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of his daughter resting on his chest, and lets his breaths align with hers, until Donna comes into the living room to announce dessert and finds her husband and daughter asleep in the living room.

“Fatherhood takes it out of you, doesn’t it?” she says softly to wake him.

He opens his eyes and sits up, smiling. “Never a more worthwhile endeavor.”

[svtskneecaps]

crew and cast

(gender neutral) reader x jihoon

genre: fluff + some?? angst? listen i tried lmao; words: 2.8k

well howdy @toxicsocial​ tis i, your tct secret santa. so uh, i can’t actually make people cry in a timely manner and i didn’t figure most people would be down to read like 9k of buildup, so!! the angst is minimal!!! but i tried really hard and i hope you like it i love you so much also i forgot to title it again until right now so don’t look at it too hard

You loved your high school’s theatre crew. From freshman year they’d been a staple in your life. It was refreshingly stable to be able to walk into the tech room anytime and reliably know what would be going on. Except, there was one thing about theatre you couldn’t stand: Lee Jihoon. You’d avoided him since freshman year, but unfortunately for you, you’d taken over the position of Run Crew Head and Prop Master, and he was the Student Director. You were forced to sit through every production meeting with him.

Which, fine. You’d do anything for the show to run well. But that didn’t change the fact that he made you want to commit a crime.

Or three.

“Great news guys!” you yelled, sweeping into the tech room. “The crutches still aren’t right and Jihoon wants us to repaint the brickwork on the platforms to be less ‘garish’ and the typewriter is from the 1940s when it should be from the 1890s and I’m going to set something on fire!”

Chan slammed his head against the nearest cabinet. “This is the third time he’s rejected the brickwork, oh my god.”

“Fourth time he’s hated the crutches too, and I’ve told him that the only period accurate typewriter in the basement is literally one wrong keystroke from breaking onstage but I guess he’s willing to take that risk for a typewriter that’s going to be in one scene.” You massaged your forehead. “I’m gonna stay late Wednesday so we can have our shit together by Hell Week.”

“I’ll have to join.” Chan peeled his head off the cabinet, cracking his knuckles. “You think Mingyu’s got time to spare? I might get him to help; there’s way too much platform for me to do in time.”

“Dunno, he’s pretty busy.” Vernon scooped a loose screw out of a sawdust pile and swept the whole thing into the dustpan. “Makeup’s been working hard to get the ‘ragged urchin’ look right.”

“I’ll con Soonyoung into it then, I don’t think they’re rehearsing the dance numbers tomorrow so he might be free.”

“I wish you luck with that, dude.” You scooped the crutch off the floor. “I gotta go beg costumes to let me into the basement storage and see if there’s another goddamn piece of fabric I can use for the crutches.”

“You have fun.”

You ended up getting lucky; Minghao already needed to go down there so you wouldn’t have to fight for cell signal to make sure you were allowed to deface the cloth scraps you’d found.

“You seem stressed,” he noted as he unlocked the basement door.

You snorted. “Stressed is an understatement.”

“Jihoon again?”

“If he tells me to redo the damn crutches again I’m going to nail him to the wall.”

Minghao lead the way down the stairs. “I really thought you had it that time.”

“Nothing is good enough for that guy.”

He shrugged. “He just wants the show to go well.”

“Yeah, well, so do I. He doesn’t have to get up everybody’s ass sticking his opinions where they don’t belong. He’s never been crew, why does he get to make us repaint the entire damn set anyway?”

“He’s the director.”

“Everyone else thought the bricks looked fine!”

Minghao looked at you sideways. “What’s your deal with Jihoon?”

“Like I said, poking his nose where it doesn’t--”

“No, you had beef before he got appointed Student Director.”

You sighed. “I don’t know. He’s always kind of been a pain even when he was ensemble.” You drove your finger into your temple. “And he broke a crucial prop that wasn’t his the night before the show opened and didn’t tell me.”

“You did props?”

“Buddy I was Prop Master. I literally didn’t find out until the Stage Manager tried to run that scene before school.” You glared absently at the shelves of typewriters to one side of the walkway. “I literally had to skip my last three classes and dinner to get a replacement and he never even apologized for it.”

Minghao whistled. “That’s unforgivable.”

“Tell me about it.” You waded through the costume racks to get to the bins of scraps in the back.

“And you’ve never considered forgiving and forgetting? I mean, it’s been two years.”

You sighed, leaning the crutch against a shelf. “I mean. . .”

He snickered. “Come on, it’s just you and me and the ghosts down here, you can say it.”

“I mean. . . he just makes me so mad!” You yanked the lid off a tote with a snap that echoed across the basement. “Like, every time I start thinking maybe he’s not so bad he pulls some other shit on me and I slam right back into hating his goddamn guts.”

“You’re on the same team,” Minghao called down the row. “You’re just trying to make the show better.”

“Making the show better shouldn’t involve painting the entire set three times.”

“I’m just saying, it’d put at least three years back on your lifespan.”

“Yeah yeah.”

You managed to update the crutches by the end of the day, and repainted the entire set on Wednesday--although you had to sacrifice your lunch and free periods and several hours after school to get it all done. Thursday left you with a finished set and another production meeting.

He didn’t like the bricks.

You saw red.

In the hallway, you pulled him aside.

“What don’t you like about the bricks?”

He frowned. “They detract attention from the actors.”

You wanted to seize him by the shoulders and shake him like a maraca. “It’s gray! It is the darkest most nondescript color we have in the buckets and you’re telling me it detracts attention from the actors? You haven’t even seen them rehearse with it!”

“It’s gonna be too much,” he argued. “It’s the same color as half the costumes--”

“I have seen every single costume in the show, it’s not even close to the same pigment!”

“Even still--”

“Listen,” you snapped, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, “if you want the set redone in time for Hell Week then I expect to see you in the goddamn tech room tomorrow after school wearing something you don’t mind getting paint on because I’m not going to make Chan and Vernon repaint the entire damn set by themselves for the fifth time and I have to figure out how to keep that 1890s typewriter from falling apart, do I make myself clear?”

He looked almost disgusted at the prospect, but he nodded stiffly. “Crystal.”

You turned on your heel just as stiffly, striding away before you lost all composure.

To your complete surprise, Jihoon actually showed up the next day, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a shirt so faded that whatever decal had been on the front had long washed away.

“So he arrives!” Chan yelled from his perch on the desk, where he’d been watching you wrestle with the typewriter.

Jihoon looked distinctly uncomfortable, but he squared his shoulders. “Where do you need me?”

“We gotta move all the set pieces in before we start,” Chan said. “Then I’ll probably have you start on the legs. We gotta wait for Vernon before we can move the tall stuff. One sec, I’ll--” he bolted into the hallway.

Jihoon stared after him, then looked to you. “Where is he going?”

“To tell Vernon we’re actually doing the repaint.” You shrugged. “Honestly I’m surprised you showed up.”

“I said I would.”

“Actually you just said you understood the ultimatum; we had no idea if you’d show or not.”

“Oh.”

You shrugged. “Good to have you anyway.”

Chan returned with Vernon before the silence could get too awkward, and you helped them move all the platforms back into the tech room. From there, Vernon set up his speaker and the real work began.

Jihoon helped choose the color of the bricks (and Chan threatened to really break his leg if he changed his mind about it later), and they got to laying down the base coat. You went back to glaring at the typewriter and reading through every antiques article you could find online.

After trying seven different methods to no avail, you shoved your chair away from the desk. “Typewriters are hellspawn created by the Devil himself to punish unfortunate Prop Masters.”

Vernon snickered. “That good, huh?”

“I’m going to put a screwdriver through the keyboard,” you said mildly.

“Okay maybe don’t do that.” Chan paused to pull a clean paintbrush out of his pocket and throw it at you. “You know where the overalls are; come take a break.”

“Why do you just have that?” Jihoon asked.

“A painter is always prepared.”

Jihoon glanced at you. You shrugged. “I don’t question it.”

Between the four of you, you managed to finish all but one platform by the time Chan and Vernon had to go. Being older, you had infinite time, so you cracked your knuckles and sat back at the typewriter. Jihoon lingered in the doorway.

“You need any help?”

You looked up. “Nah, I think I got it. Thank you, though.”

He shifted. “Listen, I know we didn’t really get off on the right foot but, I’m sorry. I know I never really apologized for the prop, and I’m sorry for how long it took, too.”

You sighed. “It’s fine. It’s kind of unfair of me to hold it against you this long anyway, so, I’m sorry too.” It wasn’t the only reason he made you so angry, but that chip on your shoulder made a lot of other offenses you would have normally overlooked seem larger.

“Can we maybe start over?” he asked. “Freshman year all over again?”

You actually found yourself nodding. “As long as you don’t make us repaint the set ever again.”

He laughed, running a paint-stained hand through his hair. “No, I won’t. I can’t do that to your crew again.”

“Good. Cause we weren’t kidding about breaking your legs.”

“I will keep that in mind.” He hiked up his backpack. “I’ll see you on Monday, then?”

“Happy Hell Week.”

Hell Week was hell (and the sky is blue).

Three of the actors lost their voices four days before Opening Night. One of the glasses for the restaurant scene shattered during the dance number--even though it was supposed to be offstage already--and the third lead got very close to twisting her ankle after landing a jump wrong. The actors could never manage to find their light, there were technical glitches with the backstage mics, and you were so on edge that if you heard the word standby you’d jump so bad you’d bruise your knee on the table.

The typewriter gave you more anxiety than it was worth. The actress using it had strict instructions not to actually touch the keys, because the only thing holding it together was gaff tape. You’d put Jun and Wonwoo in charge of bringing the desk it sat on onstage, because you trusted them to have it under control and keep it from tipping, because if it tipped at an angle any more than about 30 degrees, the keys would get out of alignment and that required time and experience to fix, of which you had neither.

Needless to say, you were two steps away from tearing your hair out.

At least you weren’t fighting with Jihoon, though. You’d even gone out to grab takeout with him for dinner, once, and yelling about all the problems in the car was really cathartic and you came back refreshed and relaxed, for once (only for every muscle in your back to clench at once because an actor bumped the prop table in their hurry to get in costume and one of the glasses fell over).

But it was Opening Night, and you were wound tighter than a spring waiting for everything to go wrong.

And it did.

Jihoon was in the hallway behind the stage, giving Joshua a few final notes about his big solo, and he didn’t check his surroundings closely enough. In his wild gesturing to demonstrate the level of enthusiasm, his arm clipped the typewriter.

And it fell.

He stared at it. Joshua stared at it. You could not tear your eyes from it.

The keys had tilted out of alignment. The bar holding the paper was skewed. The decorative paneling to one side had cracked down the middle. You didn’t have time to fix it before it went on. Maybe you couldn’t fix it at all.

“I am so sorry--” Jihoon started, but you stopped him with a hand, balling the other into a fist.

“Don’t,” you forced through your teeth, because you didn’t want to start yelling at him; it was an honest mistake and it was your fault for not resettling it on the desk after the last run. You were just seething with rage, at yourself, at the typewriter--you didn’t want to project it.

“Ten minutes to go!” someone yelled down the hall. You forced yourself to exhale, gingerly picking it up, flinching with every shift of the keys.

“Is there anything I can--”

“Get to the booth. Tell Seungcheol what happened, just-- be in your place. Jun!” you yelled into the tech room. His head jerked up. “I need you to take over headset for me, can you do that?”

His mouth fell open seeing the typewriter and he nodded, wordlessly, leaping to his feet and hurrying backstage.

Jihoon still stood there, looking between the typewriter and you with an anguished expression. “You’re sure you don’t--”

“I got it,” you said again, clipped. “I can handle it. I can-- just get to the booth, Jihoon!”

You hadn’t yelled. You knew enough not to yell when the audience was already in their seats. But your words had the same effect, because he flinched, and he nodded, and he turned the other way and ran.

Your rage was turning inward as fast as it was dulling, but you had a show to put on, so you placed the broken typewriter carefully on a counter in the tech room and sprinted for the basement.

You managed to get the 1970s typewriter back upstairs and on the desk before it went on, and the show went on without a hitch. The actors hit their marks, all the props found their way back to the prop table, and the pit orchestra didn’t have to loop a section for a missed cue even once.

You waited until everyone was gone before you let yourself cry.

“I really am sorry.”

You looked up.

Jihoon stood in the doorway, twisting his hands.

“It’s fine,” you said. “It’s partially my fault for not making sure it was centered right.” You rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands, hoping to disguise the redness. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “Do you want help?”

“I don’t know if it can even be fixed,” you said, staring blankly at the remains of the typewriter in front of you. “It might-- it might be beyond my help.”

For a long moment, you stared at it, mind spiralling.

You pushed yourself up. “They’ll want to lock up.” You slung your backpack over your shoulders. “I’ll just come in before the show and work on it. Maybe get Jun to grab me some McDonald’s or something and eat during the intermission.”

Jihoon’s brow furrowed. “That’s not healthy.”

“I’ve done it before.” You waved him off. “The show must go on, you know?” You slung your backpack over your shoulders. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The day came by in flashes as you researched the typewriter with a renewed vigor. You could probably use hot glue and some kind of putty to hide the crack in the paneling, you could probably put the keys back or at the very least tape them to look like they were back, from a distance. The bar at the top would be much harder but you hadn’t really inspected it the night before so maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as you thought it was?

You didn’t feel particularly hopeful when you stopped by the tech room to pick up the typewriter.

Until you saw the typewriter.

“What the fuck.” It was fixed. The keys aligned, the crack sealed, the bar sitting on top just as it was supposed to be. It looked exactly like it had when you’d first set it on that desk.

Jihoon came around the corner, dried putty staining his hands. “Hey,” he said, seeming tired but absolutely beaming at you.

“Did you do this?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. I didn’t want you putting your health on the line.”

“Oh my god, thank you. I can’t-- this is incredible!” You kept tracing your fingers over the ridge formed by the sealed crack, but you couldn’t see it.

“I did a good job, then?” He put his hands in his pockets, grinning.

“Better than good, oh my god I could kiss you!”

Your cheeks burned when you realized what you’d said, but he laughed. “Whoa, buy me dinner first.”

“Bet,” you said, accepting it like a challenge. “You pick the place, I’ll pay.”

“Okay,” he said, and then lifted his hands. “I gotta wash up.”

“Meet you by the front door in five?”

“It’s a date.”

[kitty-ray]

Something Like Home Ch. 2

Hey so I really liked this story so I decided to make a second chapter. Basically it’s more bkdk fluff (here’s part one) 

AO3 

Katsuki suddenly has a lot to think about. Last night, totally unprompted and totally not unwelcomed, Deku decided on his own free will to crawl into Katsuki’s bed and demand Katsuki to hold him. Honestly? Who is Katsuki to refuse such an offer?

However, this is Deku we’re talking about. The same fucking Deku that would snivel and cry yet not give up in a fight no matter how beaten down he was. The same fucking Deku Katsuki watched time and time again almost die because he has no value on his life (which, side not, that is something they are definitely going to have to talk to him about). The same fucking Deku that’s been on the edge of his mind for his whole life. Sure, some of those thoughts lingered around Deku’s mouth. And yes, maybe some of those thoughts led elsewhere, but that’s beside the point!

Katsuki grabs his pillow and screams into it. How, oh how, did Katsuki Bakugou ever get in a situation like this?

See, this wouldn’t normally be an issue if it weren’t for the fact that Katsuki’s heart was most definitely slamming against his chest almost all last night. He’s only ever associated that feeling with a fight, and Katsuki knows for a fact that they weren’t fighting.

Katsuki’s not dumb. He’s not entirely immune to emotions and feelings. Hell, he’s had his fair share of crushes in his life, but those were way before middle school. (Okay, that’s a lie. He may or may not have had a crush on a few of the boys in his class, but those were quickly pummeled away before they could go any farther. Don’t tell Kirishima.)

What he’s feeling for Deku is definitely not a crush. It’s more of a… childhood friends turned enemies turned rivals turned hey, let’s occasionally sleep together because neither of us knows how to sleep alone anymore, yeah? That’s it. That is exactly what they are.

“I,” Katsuki whispers to his ceiling, “do not like Deku. I hate him.”

He did not, but it’s easier to say that than anything else. This mantra repeats in his head until he’s almost certain that he believes it. It seems to work, especially when they’re in the locker room almost a week later and somebody brings up relationships.

“Yeah, we’re going to go get lunch Sunday. Got the release forms and everything,” Sero says to the Kaminari. He grabs his uniform jacket. “I’m really excited.”

Kaminari slaps Sero on the back. “Hell yeah, man! Hey, does she have any single friends?”

“Dunno, but I can ask.”

“Sero, my pal, my dude, you are the bestest friend ever.”

“Pretty sure that’s not a word, Kaminari.”

Katsuki frowns into his locker. He should have expected this. They’re high school students, so dating is not totally out of the question. He can’t help but feel slightly behind in that regard.

But then he reminds himself that if he’s going to be the Number One Hero™, then he has no time for trivial things like relationships and dating and (dare he say it) kissing.

“So, Midoriya,” the grape fucker’s voice rings out. Katsuki tries not to look at them. “You’re popular with the ladies. I caught you behind the school the other day with some pretty girl confessing! Tell me, tell me! She’s got big boobies, right? You said yes, right?”

Kirishima walks over, crossing his arms. His mouth curls in disgust. “Dude, too far.” Then he looks up to Deku. “But yeah, Midoriya. We all heard about it and kinda want to know how it went.”

Next to him, Deku’s face goes bright red. Katsuki denies the fluttering in his stomach, choosing to ignore whether it’s because of delight or jealousy. He pulls out his tie, pretending not to listen.

“Oh, well, um…” Deku’s voice trails off, and out of the corner of his eye, Katsuki can see how red his face is. Cute. Turning back to his locker, Deku hides his face. “I turned her down,” he whispers.

This time, the butterflies Katsuki elects to ignore are definitely from delight.

Deku comes again, later that week. Katsuki’s full attention is on his small TV screen, the controller in his hand warm from lengthy use, and he’s just about to beat the boss when there’s a knock at the door. Quickly, he pauses it, the threat dying in his throat when the door opens and Deku slips inside.

“The fuck? Deku, it’s late.” Katsuki says, rocking his chair back. It takes a second to register his red-rimmed eyes and shiny lips. By then, Deku has already made his way to Katsuki.

He fully expects him to climb into Katsuki’s bed, as per their unsaid rules of whatever the hell it is they have going on, but Katsuki only stares in amazement as Dekuk crawls into his lap and buries his face into Katsuki’s shoulder. “H-hey!” he splutters. Real smooth.

“I’m sorry,” Deku whispers. His arms loop Katsuki’s middle. “Just go back to your game. I’ll move if I’m in the way.”

Suddenly, he is infinitely grateful that Deku isn’t looking at him because his face is certainly a bright shade of red. He doesn’t say anything to Deku before unpausing the game and finishing the fight. It’s hard to play like this, but Deku’s warmth and sobs keep him from moving, so he stays. If this is what the nerd needs, then the nerd gets.

A cut scene comes along, and Katsuki takes this opportunity to hug the nerd back. He won’t let himself go any farther; no kisses or sweet nothings to be had. Sure, he might have slipped up a few nights ago (okay, twice, but who’s counting?), but Deku was asleep then! He wouldn’t have noticed! Not like now when he is very, very much awake and very, very much moving.

It’s not a lot of movement, but every time the nerd shifts his hips to get comfortable, Katsuki notices. Oh boy, does he notice. It’s a totally normal reaction for a teenage boy to have on his crush rival! Especially when said rival is sitting on his lap and practically grinding on him.

Deku’s fingers grasp the bottom of Katsuki’s shirt, and he nearly explodes. Okay, Katsuki, think of puppies, kittens, Kirishima’s god awful--shit no, don’t think about Kirishima! Girls, think of girls! Mom and Dad! Oh, shit, I got to call them, don’t I?

“Kacchan,” Deku whispers, his small voice bringing Katsuki out of his attempt to calm down. “Thank you.”

“For what, nerd?”

On the screen, Katsuki’s avatar finds a treasure chest full of useless items. He’ll have to sell those later to buy something good.

Deku doesn’t answer, so Katsuki focuses his attention back on the game. He feels Deku’s lips on his neck. It’s soft, barely there, and probably not intentional, but it makes his brain go haywire nonetheless. He fumbles while trying to take down the miniboss and loses half a life.

Eventually, Katsuki has enough and saves the game. Deku shifts again. “Oh. Are you done?”

He grunts in response. The controller hangs loose in his hands as he wraps his arms around Deku, hearing him squeak. It takes a couple of seconds for the nerd to relax again, but when he does, he starts crying again.

“I had a nightmare again,” Deku whispers. Saying nothing, Katsuki rubs his back. His mom used to do that when he was a kid, and it never failed to make him feel better. Occasionally, whenever Deku would sleep over and he’d have a nightmare, she would rub his back, too.

Katsuki buries his nose into Deku’s curls. They’re still wet and frizzy from his bath. (That’s another thing they’re going to have to talk about.) “Wanna…” he pauses, unsure of himself. “Wanna talk about it?”

They don’t talk about the nightmares. It’s another unspoken rule between the two; you have a nightmare and you go back to sleep. That’s just how they did it.

But this time is different. The last time was different, too. Deku came in here, on his accord, asked Katsuki to hold him, and dealt with the nightmares in a different way. So, yeah, maybe their unspoken rules can be bent and broken once in a while.

Deku sniffles and pulls away, green eyes glassy. The light from the TV and desk lamp makes it hard to see anything but shadows on his face, but Katsuki has known Deku long enough to know exactly how he looks crying. “It’s stupid,” Deku mutters.

“Yeah, and so is Dunce Face, but we still put up with him.”

“You don’t.”

“That’s not the point. What’s the nightmare?”

He cracks a smile before wiping his eyes. “I’m going to tell Kaminari you said that.” Seeing Katsuki’s determined stare, Deku sighs. “Sometimes, I dream of you dying. Or it’s me. Or it’s everyone else. I just… I feel so helpless and I can’t do anything about it and-and--” His words are cut off as he gasps for air. “They just won’t stop.”

Katsuki does something he might regret; he takes Deku’s face in his hands. It’s wet underneath his palms, but he doesn’t pay attention to that. He does, however, pay attention to how soft his cheeks are or how bright his eyes shine. Katsuki suddenly feels the urgent need to kiss him.

“Do you…?” he starts to ask but trails off. This has never been a spoken thing between them. If he says it out loud, he might break the fragile thing they have set up. They’re swimming through uncharted territory, fumbling along as they try to make sense of what is up and what is down.

Thankfully, Deku seems to know what he’s trying to say. A scarred hand lays across one of Katsuki’s as Deku smiles at him. “Can I?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

It doesn’t occur to Katsuki until now that he could be asking a double-loaded question. What he means to ask is if Deku wants to sleep here, yet he also recognizes that he very well could be asking to do more. He tries not to look down at Deku’s lips, tries to keep his gaze locked onto Deku’s, but he ultimately fails. Hopefully, Deku doesn’t notice.

He does notice, and Katsuki notices him noticing, and it’s enough to make his heart do somersaults.

There’s a new question hanging between them. This one is exhilarating and terrifying and makes Katsuki rethink his entire position about relationships and dating and (he dare says) kissing. His fingers find their way to the curls at the nape of his neck. They’re not as soft as Katsuki thought they would be, but they still feel nice.

Katsuki nods, answering both questions at once.

At first, his lips are barely there, but when Katsuki doesn’t pull away, he presses further. He rather likes his lips. He also likes how Deku is obviously just as inexperienced as he is, and he especially likes how Deku breaks up the kiss because he’s smiling.

“I, um, yeah.” Deku rests his forehead on his. “Was that okay?”

Katsuki opens his eyes, and he sees that he’s already looking back at him. His cheeks are still wet from his tears, which he finds disgusting. Unfortunately, his tissues are too far away.

“It was fine or whatever.”

Deku knows he’s lying; his shit-eating grin tells him so. He pokes at Katsuki’s ribs, causing him to yelp. “It was fine, Kacchan?” Deku laughs. “Only fine?”

“Ah! S-stop! Deku!”

“Admit it! It was good!”

Katsuki locks eyes with him, his own fingers coming up to Deku’s sides. When Deku squeaks, he smirks. “I will say no such thing.”

“Kacchan! Sto-o-op!”

There’s banging on the wall before Kirishima yells, “Shut up!”

They try to wiggle away from each other, but with Deku’s legs locked around Katsuki’s waist and Katsuki balancing in his chair, they only manage to crash on the floor. Groaning, he rubs his arm. “Fuck you,” he mutters.

“You okay?” Deku’s green eyes are alight with mirth as he stares at Katsuki. It makes his heart flutter with unease and excitement. He nods.

In this moment, he realizes that his stupid face is actually rather beautiful. The soft glow of the desk lamp highlights his freckles and scars, his cheeks flushed from laughter, and Katsuki thinks he might be falling a little bit. They’re staring at each other, both not wanting to break this tension. It’s electrifying and exhilarating and makes Katsuki absolutely terrified of what he’s feeling. Deku’s legs are entangled with his, but that doesn’t stop him from reaching over and interlacing their fingers together.

“I liked it,” he whispers, almost afraid to break this little bubble of theirs, and they don’t break eye contact as he whispers, “and I think I’m starting to like you.”

Deku smiles at him. “I think I’m starting to like you, too.”

It takes them several moments for them to even think about getting into bed, and when they do, Katsuki doesn’t hesitate to pull him close. His fingers trace random fingers on top of his shirt, and he smiles. Maybe crushes aren’t so bad after all.

[rice-pudding-slaps]

A WILD thought just crossed my head but a Cats High School Teachers AU? It would be ✨glorious✨

Just imagine!!

Jennyanydots would totally be a language teacher That's how we call it in my country lmao language and communications. It's basically grammar and literature ANYWAY that is also kind of a mother for kids who need help. She would totally and absolutely be that Miss Honey kinda Vibes™ teacher that always has a kind word for you and if she sees you crying, she will protect you with her life (And also maybe she has this huge bag filled with napkins and sweets). She's strict tho. But not in a mean way. She doesn't just gift grades, she makes you work for it. You can turn up your paper again, but it will have 300 corrections. But she will praise your efforts and help you overcome your difficulties.

Skimble gives me such Math Teacher That Always Has a Story and Rarely Actually Teaches The Class kinda vibes. His class is always on the most absolute of silence and no one ever DREAMS of pranking him. The kids knoooow that they can say "Hey, mr Skimbles I heard you were on a train once" and boom he will tell you all these stories about his time being in charge of the Northern Mail. He has told the story sooooo many times that the children once put on a play with one of the stories for Teachers Day or smtn. He was moved to tears

Demeter would absolutely be an art teacher and be the most understanding teacher ever. She's patient and kind and she will give you a day more to bring in your work if you need it. She also always has a way to find hurt kids. Coming from an abusive background herself, she's quick to act whenever she feels a child migh need any type of help. She ended up being That Teacher That Every LGBTQ+ Kid Befriends and she is proud to be helpful and provide love to those who need it. She's very close to Munk and is always helping with the props for the plays.

Bomba is a science teacher because I said so. And because she has a similar vibe to most of my science teachers when I was in school lmao. She's funny and charismatic and pretty laid back. And you never know what to expect from her. The kids love her bc she might spend some class talking all about formulas and next class is "Hey kids wanna learn how to make EXPLOSIONS??" they never actually blow up something, but she makes the lab classes the best thing.

Munkustrap is an absolute history teacher. No questions asked. The man knows how to narrate every historical moment like you were there. He has a silver tounge (pun intended). And he always tries to teach the most he can, because history is just so broad and there is so much to talk about. And he definetely would answer all the questions, even the more weird ones. He's called by kids the Protector because even when he's easly the most strict teacher ever, he would never let anyone bad mouth his students. No matter how chaotic the class was, he will always tell them that as long as they learned something, they won. He also works in the theatre departement, so the theatre kids are in love with the guy. They tried to set him up with Demeter in a play, but gave up after a half hour speech on how they shouldn't be involved in their teachers personal lifes.

Tugger is obviously a music teacher. He is that laid back, friendly and overall awesome teacher that everyone just loves. He plays any instrument you can think of and will teach you if you ask. As a joke, a whole class asked to learn the bagpipes and when next class this rockstar of a teacher appeared with a fucking bagpipe and a whole lot for the kids they fucking LOST IT. He will help you with practice and if you want to get into serious music, then he will absolutely root for you. He has a song composed for every teacher and absolutely everyone hates him for this. He's also with the theatre kids and always helps with plays maybe to mess with Munk, maybe he likes the attention. He's also in charge of music and dance presentations and he abuses his powers greatly. And everytime a class graduates he says that he doesn't really cares that much (is the circle of life, baby) but will shed silent tears everytime bc he's gonna miss the kiddies.

Misto's obviously a dance teacher. Duh. He might be an ex student for the same school. He's fresh out of college and he sometimes doesn't know what to do, but he tries really hard. And he's harsh as fuck for the same reason. He always wears a tuxedo to class and a bowtie bc he tought it was a formal thing and now it's kind of like "his thing". He's kind of cold at first and doesn't talk really that much, the kids first tought he hated them, but later found out that he just goes non verbal sometimes and designed a whole system to communicate instructions and corrections. Misto was so happy. And that's why there is a board on the classroom they use to dance. He's also one of the teachers that every LGBTQ+ kid loves, and he tries his best to support each one. And yes, every day they ask "DO THE CONJURING TURNS MR. MISTOFFELEES" and he gladly does. There was this rumor that he was magic bc once a kid saw him in a presentation out of school and they swear he sparkled out of the blue. He knows, and sometimes he would do little tricks for the kiddos for funs, and other teachers just to mess with them. He also goes to the teathre departement and it's constantly working with Tugger so the music and dance kids do presentations together. The kids ship it so hard

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer are the best gym teachers ever. They also are very new to this, but they make class the most fun thing ever. They teach sports and gymnastics with ease. And they have no mercy on dodge ball. No. Mercy. They once were playing on the field with the kids and hit Tugger on the head. The legend says that they ran across the school for all night. The truth is that they outrun Tugger, but not Munk.

Jellylorum is the school's nurse. She always has a tecito de hierbas for you. And she will always hear you and try to get you to be better. She has infinite patience for eveyone. And she always carries pads and tampons for the kids who may need it. And if you ever need a shoulder to cry on? She's there too. She and Jenny have their officed flood on Mother's day because they are the second mothers of so many kids. She also catches up with ex-students and remember every name.

Gus is the official Theatre teacher. He is this old man who is so wise and strict, but just because he loves his craft so so much. Every year there is some kind of rumor that he might retire, but it never seemed to happen. He has a little office with so many photos and diplomas and it's just filled with memories. He is very harsh on the kids. Very. But they love him because he also can spend hours talking about his greatest performances on theatre. When he actually had to retire because he was starting to have very fragile health, everyone cried. They held a big play and he played Growltiger. No one had a dry eye that night. And he still visits the school from time to time. He goes to every play.

You might say that Old Deuteronomy is the principal and you would be very right. But this man was a teacher in his day. He taught philosophy and history and english and literature. He has more degreed that a high school teacher had to have, but he loved dearly the art of teaching. And he remembers every kid. Every morning he sits at the entrance and says to every one of them by name. He plays with the kids when his health let's him. He has a framed photo of him and Gus on their first years as teachers just along side a photo of the year Tugger joined Munkustrap on the school staff. And everyone is very sure that he might let Munkustrap take the position one day. He's also a kind soul. And will let kids tug on his beard. There was this christmas when he dressed up as santa and it was the sweetest thing ever.

Tantomille and Coricopat are philosophy teachers. They take turns doing classes and you will never know wich one taught you last class because they are in perfect sync. Their test are the most outlandish thing ever, and give points for "originality" wich is mostly just wich kid said the most weird but true thing. The kids are kinda scared of them. Just enough to not to mess up their classes.

I am not completely sure, but Alonzo being a spanish teacher just brings me so much joy. He's always teaching them songs and little games to learn spanish and the kids take total advantage of that just to mess with him. He never gets truly mad if they play a prank on him. And he's the Protector number 2 to the kids, bc he would absolutely turn up to a teachers reunion wet from head to toe and instead of tattle on the kids, he would just say it was an accident. Munk knows and always ends up catching the culprit, not always with Alonzo's help.

The Rumpus Cat is the school mascot.

[jay-and-dean]

Firefly   Chapter 1. Five years old

By Roonyxx and Jay-and-dean

Pairings : future Dean x reader ? 

Summary :  40 years in Hell, but he didn’t spend all this time all alone, he had her. 

Prepare to know what happened during those years Dean never talks about. To immerge yourself in Hell, only lit by the mysterious kid growing here...

And to see some of your favorite villains again : Crowley, Lilith, Lucifer... And also Sammy and Jack...

Serie Warnings : Hurt!Dean, Hell (torture, even if we tried to not give it graphic descriptions, creepy demons, blood, violence), swearing, angst, future fluff and smut.

This story is in both Reader’s POV and Dean’s POV

Wordcount : 2645

Note : This is our second collaboration. We can’t both edit the same post, so we decided we would post 1 chapter/2 each, like we did for Same.

We both worked as much on this story and it’s the result of both our brains but also both our hearts.

Please, if you want to show love for this story, don’t forget we were together in this.

This story will be around 10 chapters and we intend to edit it every Saturday if nothing delays it.

Roonyxx Masterlist

Jay’s Masterlist

_________________________

Reader’s Pov

She should have stayed in her room. 

She should have stayed in her room for many reasons. Because her huge, warm and luxury bedroom was far enough from the horrible screams first. Desperate calls for help echoing everywhere, useless begging and strangled howls of infinite pain. 

Because her room was neither burning hot nor cold like bleak ice.

Because there was no smell indescribably vile between the rock walls and along the velvet curtains…

But in her child mind, anything was better than eternal silence, even cries for help, better than the lonely torpor of comfort, than that unbearable loneliness.

And boredom.

So, as usual, she took Mister Teddy Bear in her arms, holding him close against her tiny body. With her finger she stuffed the foam escaping from the hole where his head should be, and smiled at his pathetic form.

She didn’t miss his head, for the same reason she didn’t miss the sky : because she had never seen it. 

Hell was big enough to get lost forever but she never did. It was vast enough for her to never go twice in the same place if she decided too. And for now, she had only found one place worth going back, the rest was only screams.

She shivered a little, today was cold, at least in this area. And even if she was shaped to handle Hell, she could see the steam coming out of her mouth and taste the metallic smell of blood on her tongue. 

When something moved on the wall of that infinite corridor, she took a step back, bumping the opposite sweating blood wall. It was the skin of a human being, empty and limply nailed on the wall, but somehow still whining and crying.  

She looked down at Mister Teddy bear and noticed it had been stained again, by the thick smelly blood constantly seeping from the tall cold dark walls. She sighed and gave the shaking empty skin a reprimanding look, frowning her thin and small eyebrows.

And she kept walking. 

A demon appeared at an intersection. He wasn’t wearing a human form, his giant body scrawny to the bones, with a crest of rotten wood along his visible spine, transparent skin, no eyes, and a huge pair of horns above him. His arms were long enough to touch the floor, and he was raising his legs too high while walking, which gave him something of a spider. 

She recognized Jael.

He passed by, ignoring her tiny form as usual, leaving a trail of smoke and sulfur behind him. For him, she was probably not bigger than a cat would be to a human being. Annoyed by his complete indifference, she closed her tiny five years old fists and punched his leg in a grunt. 

The demon didn’t even acknowledge her and she watched him walk or crawl away. 

She stayed still for a moment, holding Mister Teddy Bear tight, looking around at the infinite numbers of boring corridors this maze had. She turned on herself in a little dance, her dress flying like there was wind, closed her eyes and stopped randomly, a little dizzy.

This way today.

She sighed in content, she had never been this way before. So she put her tiny patent shoe in front of her and started walking.

She walked for a while, going in any direction like a little mouse in an abandoned manor. Avoiding the walls and covering her ears when the screams were too loud. Once or twice she looked inside the rooms, her eyes meeting pieces of humans, arms reaching to her, eyes without eyelids following her tiny form while beasts with their demon faces or a human costume were feasting on their guts. 

She turned left and found herself in front of a door opened on a large room with a man in the middle of it. 

He wasn’t screaming. 

Chains were maintaining him up and straight, his arms stretched toward the ceiling. The chain was going through his stomach and one of his thighs. Weights were at his hips probably slowly tearing his back.

She stopped in front of the door and held Mister Teddy Bear closer, studying his silhouette, hidden in the shadow of the corridor. 

He was brighter, he was stronger. His silence made her shiver for she was so used to the din of despair.

Did he really belong here ?

Mesmerized by his noble aura, she took a step in the room and looked up. His face was held by a chain around his neck, his eyes closed and face unexpectedly calm, almost as if he was sleeping. 

When she took another shy step, her potent shoe hit a piece of the chain she didn't notice and the metallic sound made him gasp. His eyes opened and their green light fell on her.

He stayed totally motionless, but it was not like he could really move anyway. Only his eyes weren’t still, trembling in her direction, struggling to focus. Like all the damned souls, he seemed really surprised to see her here, she was just a little girl anyway ; and there was no child in Hell. But his eyes had no expression of supplication, only a mix of distrust and pain.

Demons had never frightened her much, some of them were impressive and ugly, disgusting even. But they couldn’t hurt her. What made shivers run along her tiny back were the damned themselves. Their screams, their begging, their despair... And in her immature mind, she had come to think they were fouler than the creatures of Hell themselves.

Not him. 

Her fascinated wide eyes were magnetized to his face, forgetting the chains and the pool of blood at his feet, everything broken about him. She just stared at his face and thought he was beautiful in a way.

She forgot her boredom for a second, and took another step. In front of her little form, with his arms almost reaching the ceiling, he appeared as tall as a mountain. She lifted her chin, frustrated a little to not be able to come closer to his face. 

Despite his dusty and grimy skin, she could see little light brown stains around his nose, his eyes were very green and bright, and bloodshot only made their natural color lighter.

Her tiny hand moved a little, not sure what she wanted to do, maybe poke his thigh, like little children tend to do when they find something curious. But he flinched, and she got scared. The whole mountain of his motionless body suddenly making the iron of the chains scream.

She took a step back and put Mister Teddy Bear on the floor, away from danger, before she came closer again. Keeping her eyes on him to tame the reactions of this huge and impressive wounded beast.

This time, she showed him her hand. Her little palm raised gently, she stood there, tasting his blood on her tongue, and the smell of metal and pain.

His face was confused, and his eyes still trembling from the intense fear of being touched, but he kept them on her, going from her innocent eyes to her tiny clean hand.

Dean’s pov

His eyes followed her as she sat down cross-legged a few feet from him, watching him in silence, she took Mister Teddy Bear and put him in her lap.

Dean’s eyes flickered from her little form to the door, waiting for the next torture to begin, but it didn’t.

She just kept watching him, her eyes shining with innocence only a child has. Was she really a kid ? Was it a trap ? A trap to what, nothing could really get worse anyway… Trying to ignore the horrible pain, he focused on her eyes to try and read them. 

Everything was weird about her. Her age, her beauty, like she came from another world, Earth or even Heaven… Nothing was dark or vile on her feature. She didn’t seem to mind that her little pink dress was getting soaked in his blood.

With one last glance at the door he cleared his throat, hoarse from screaming hours and hours, and from not really talking for what ? Years...

“Hey little girl?” he cleared his throat once more, surprised by his own voice.  

Not controlling his tone perfectly, he spoke a little too loud which made her shuffle back a little. He really didn’t want her to disappear just now, maybe if he managed to talk to her a little, get a name...

“No stay, s-sorry… I’m not gonna hurt you.” His voice seemed to calm her this time, she held Mister Teddy closer to her chest.

“Are you, lost ? What’s your name?” He tried, but she just kept watching him not saying a word. 

He gave her a little smile through the unbearable suffering. It felt foreign smiling, he hasn’t done it in years. 

“I won’t tell anyone.” 

It looked like she smiled back but he was too far to see it clearly, could she even talk anyway ? She looked human, but here… a kid ? Was she dead too ? How did she end up here ?

“Where you from, little girl?” he tried again, speaking was horribly painful but this moment was priceless to him. 

How he would love to hear a voice other then the screams of Hell or the filth the demons spat at him. But she kept her lips sealed, taking her little bear by the legs, making him walk through the blood. She didn’t seem phased by the horror of it at all.

“I’m Dean” he said. 

She looked up at him and slowly took the arm of her bear to wave at him. His eyes widened, so she could hear and understand him. If he had been able to, he would wave back, instead he chuckled lightly for the first time since the Hellhounds got him; almost forgetting the the chains in his back.

“What’s your little friend’s name? He looks badass.” 

Still no answer.

He needed her to be real, to not be an hallucination caused by pain or loneliness.

“Well I guess I’ll give you a name then, is that okay ?”

She shrugged slightly, wiping her headless toy to her perfectly ironed dress. 

“What you think of… Firefly?” She looked up at him, now he was sure he could see a smile gracing her little face.

“You like that ? You remind me of one” he tried not to cough at his dry throat, knowing it would be enough to break his back. “A little light in the darkest place…”

He started to look at her thoroughly. She didn’t look too skinny, she was a little dirty, blood stains on her arms, dress and shoes, but in a place like this that wasn’t surprising. Her eyes didn’t look heavy so she had a place to sleep, to rest… How he missed resting, to be able to close your eyes and just sleep, to not fear the never ending pain.

“How did you end up here ?” he asked more for himself, as she didn’t seem to talk at all. 

Maybe she couldn’t speak at all. How old would she be, four ? Maybe five ? The blood stains on her face made it difficult to see her child like features.

She was so remarkable, in this screaming pit of misery and despair, there was not one ounce of fear in her eyes. She didn’t seem faced by the fact that she was covered in blood, that her teddy bear was missing his head, that he himself was dangling by chains and seeping the very same blood she was sitting in. 

“You have been here for a while haven’t you ?” 

He could tell she probably didn’t know anything else but Hell. The absence of fear, the indifference, like everything was just as it always had been... He was sure of it. But then again, how did she end up in the pit ?

A cautious dark chuckle left his mouth.

“I lost count of how long I’ve been here but I heard it’s been about 10 or 15 years.”

She looked up at him, her little E/C eyes shining with curiosity, he hasn’t seen that in years, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them. They remind him so much of Sammy’s eyes when he was younger. 

A heavy door fell shut in the distance making Dean flinch, grunting loud when his cruel bonds rattled. She got up and came closer, inspecting the chain going through his thigh, her face showing little interest in it. 

Then, her curiosity visibly winning against her distrust, she crawled between his legs to watch his back. And he closed his eyes in apprehension of her touching something. But she didn’t.

Reader’s Pov

He was different from everything she had seen in her short life, he wasn’t screaming like the others, or begging, he just… endured it. He seemed stronger. 

She circled him to come back to where she could see his face. Her little hand reached for him again, but she remembered the damned didn’t like to be touched so she took her hand back.

Heavy footsteps suddenly echoed in the hallway. 

She grabbed mister Teddy Bear from the floor and moved to stand beside the door, Jael entered, still in his demonic form.

“Dean Winchester, ready for your next session ?” his croaky voice came out of his mouth full of teeth in a strange way. “The master Alastair is waiting.” 

He steps on the chain making it shift in Dean’s gut. When Dean groaned hoarsely, she moved to punch her little fist into the creatures leg again.

With a sulfur stenched sigh the creature looked down her.

“What are you doing in here” he said in a growl. “You know it isn’t allowed.” 

His long bony fingers wrapped around her left ankle to pull her upside down into the air, she weighed nothing. She started to struggle but totally in vain, her palms clenched around Mister Teddy Bear to not lose him, and her free leg trying to kick the demon.

“I’m not a damn babysitter” the demon sighed, a cloud of smelly sulfur reaching her face, and making her sneeze. “I’ll tie you again if you keep wandering, child.” 

He turned to leave the room, his creepy gait making her dangle left and right.

“I’ll be back for you Winchester, you’ll say yes to Alastair soon enough.”

Still dangling from Jael’s grip, she took her bear arms and waved it at Dean before the Demon turned in the hallway.

Jael walked back to where her room was, when he pushed the door he came face to face with a Demon in the shape of a man, wearing a suit and a brand new watch, Crowley.

“Sir, your filth has been wandering” he dropped her to the floor bluntly. “Again.”

“Careful Jael, that’s my daughter” the smooth, human voice of her father echoes with no affection.

Crowley bended to pull her up by the arm, grimacing at how dirty she was, and put her in the corner where he had put the chain a few times ago, that was a little to big for her fragile foot anyway, around her.

“Now sweet cheeks” Crowley bended to her eye level “You know you aren’t allowed to leave this room so do us all a favor and don’t?” 

She stuck her tongue out to him.

“Just kill her already” Jael grunted.

Crowley stood up and ushered Jael out of the room, he locked the door behind them, while she already took her foot out of the too big chain to run at the door, failing to open it. 

“Patience Jael, one day this girl will lead us to victory, you’ll see.”

___________________________________

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[davidmann95]

Comics this week (7/14/2021)?

Anonymous asked: How’s the comic-booking been this week?

comics-and-videogames asked: Comics this week?

X-Men #1: Actually just plain forgot about this last week, and this was a lot of fun! Trying to do the post-Hickman version of 90s X-Men comics as drawn by Larraz, and it turns out I like that pretty well. To my surprise definitely sticking with it.

Iron Man #10: Thinking I'm finally gonna drop this soon - thinking the time is coming to drop a number of on-the-bubble books.

Captain America #30: My dad wanted to check this out and obviously a lot of it is incomprehensible because it's the final issue of a run I jumped off of over a dozen issues ago, but the central Red Skull confrontation is solid. Even without context though, there's an unavoidable feeling of anticlimax here.

Spider-Man: Spider's Shadow #4: Expanding the breadth of the idea significantly, and I'm very curious how radical the 'changes' in the wake of it will be - will our boy Pete triumph over the worst in himself, or rocks fall and everyone dies in the traditional fashion? I guess that question is the charm of making What-If? longer than an issue as a time.

DIE #18: I suspect this is an issue that'll hit harder when I can sit down and reread the series as a whole, but it still hit pretty damn hard.

Haha #6: Well this book ended up a disappointment. Ice Cream Man itself may face accusations of being a one-trick pony, but it's a lot more inventive with its trick than this ever got. Did laugh at the cheap bit with Arty though.

6 Sidekicks of Trigger Keaton #2: "He was the actual worst person who ever lived, genuinely not a single redeeming quality, absolutely biblical in his petty devoted vileness" shouldn't be a gag that can deliver these kinds of returns when he's not even around in the story built around him but here we are.

Rorschach #10: Liked it.

Infinite Frontier #2: An excellent cross-section of the DCU, in that here's cool pretty stuff starring interesting characters in interesting situations, and here's the JSA and Roy Harper doing the stuff they do in the parts Xermanico doesn't draw.

Wonder Woman #775: Increasingly ambivalent on its take on Diana - worried they really were only letting her have fun because of the amnesia - but everything surrounding her remains interesting. So weird seeing the 'classic' post-Crisis version of Olympus where people are still acting like she's Zeus's kid though.

The Joker #5: This felt a little off and seeing Rosenberg cowrote at the end explained it, but it's still Tynion and Francavilla doing Year One-era Gordon so of course it's good.

Batman: Urban Legends #5: Lead is as good as it has been from the beginning, Batgirls and Grifter stories are fine, increasingly angry at the Tim Drake story because plain and simple WB is not going to allow a story where Robin says he likes boys - even Bendis as I recall clearly got it spiked - so what the fuck does this think it's playing at.

Justice League: Last Ride #3: I don't understand how Zdarsky is doing character-defining work for a character who's been around for almost 40 years and had an ongoing for a decade of that as a feature in an anthology title, while the standalone Justice League perennial mini he's doing at the same time is...fine. Nothing wrong in here but it could come out any number of C-tier DC writers were ghostwriting this and I'd barely flinch at the revelation.

Action Comics Annual 2021: Even with the added space this felt like it was crying out for room to breathe, especially for some of the concluding beats, but this was a really fun issue with a crew of characters I'm happy to see used again; even if they somehow don't end up playing into the megaplot I hope PKJ can keep finding excuses to show what the House of El is getting up to. And of all the figures to apparently turn out to be the big bad of the whole run that's a deep cut even for ME, I imagine it won't even register to a lot of readers as an existing thing and they'll assume this is an entirely new piece of mythology.