#which we mustn't ignore

[nochd]

There were multiple hominin migrations from Africa into the Middle East throughout human prehistory -- at least four if I recall correctly. One theory I once remember hearing (but haven't seen again since, so take it with a grain of salt) is called "The Sahara Desert as a Pump".

We know from various lines of evidence that large parts of what's now the Sahara have, during the last half million years, repeatedly become green and fertile over a few thousand years and then returned to desert again. Each time those places greened up, people moved into them; when they turned back to desert, people moved out. And the people who were closer to the northeastern edge moved out, not southward back to where their ancestors millennia before had come from, but northwards into Eurasia.

What do you think about the evolution theory of everyone getting out of Africa? For me it is very problematic to think that people do not want to stay in Africa and prefer to go to "civilized" places. While we're here, what do you think of the "first world" and "third world" division. If we were to follow those standards technically the UK is kinda a.third world country at this specific moment. Have a great day

The 'out of Africa' is just the theory that hominins evolved in Africa first and then migrated - likely following fresh water sources. Nowhere was "civilised" then - it was prehistory! I don't think it's problematic and it is, in fact, a fact.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Trump’s Tiktok two-step is a lesson for future presidents

I'm about to leave for a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me on Feb 14 in BOSTON for FREE at BOSKONE , and on Feb 15 for a virtual event with YANIS VAROUFAKIS. More tour dates here.

Remember the Tiktok ban? I know, it was ten million years ago (in Musk years, anyway), so it may have slipped your mind, but let me remind you: Congress passed a law saying Tiktok was banned. Trump said he wouldn't enforce the law. The end.

No, really. I mean, sure, there's a bunch of bullshit about whether Trump will pick up the ban again after Tiktok's grace period ends, depending on whether they sell themselves to his creepy wax museum pal Larry Ellison. Maybe he will. Maybe Tiktok'll buy so many trumpcoins that he forgets about. Whatevs.

The important thing here is: Congress passed a (stupid) law and Trump said, "I've decided not to enforce that law" and then that was it:

https://prospect.org/justice/2025-01-31-trump-administration-test-supreme-court-tiktok/

Sure, there's some big rule of law/checks and balances/separation of powers problems here, and there are plenty of laws I'm mad about Trump not enforcing (like the law that says corporations can't bribe foreign governments, say). But this one? Sure, it's fine. The problem with Tiktok is that it invades our privacy in creepy ways, not that it is owned by a Chinese company. I don't want Zuck or Musk or (especially) Trump invading my privacy.

Congress hasn't passed a consumer privacy law since 1988, when they banned video store clerks from telling newspapers about your VHS viewing habits. That's why Tiktok is a problem. Pass that law, and if any president decides not to enforce it, I'll be mad as hell and I'll be right there in the streets next to you, in head-to-toe CV dazzle, with all my distraction rectangles in Faraday pouches, shlepping a placard bearing the Social Security Numbers of every Cabinet member in giant writing.

But the point is, the president defied Congress, which is a thing that Very Serious Grownups told us radicals Joe Biden mustn't do under any circumstances, lest the resulting constitutional crisis tear the country apart, or, at the very least, alienate so many voters that Donald Trump would become the next president.

We let Very Serious Grownups call the shots, and Donald Trump is president. Maybe we should stop listening to Very Serious Grownups?

Look, presidents ignore Congress's laws all the time. The Comstock Act (which effectively bans transporting pornography and contraception) is almost entirely ignored, and has been for generations (though Trump's creepy Heritage Foundation puppetmasters have promised to bring it back). The Robinson-Patman Act hasn't been enforced since the Reagan years, which is a damned shame, because Robinson-Patman would put Walmart, Amazon, Dollartree and Dollar General out of business (Biden started to enforce Robinson-Patman again during his last year in office):

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/14/the-price-is-wright/#enforcement-priorities

I'm not trying to say that enforcing (or ignoring) the Comstock Act is the same as ignoring (or enforcing) the Robinson-Patman Act. The Comstock Act is bad, and the Robinson-Patman Act is good. I am capable of making that moral judgment, and I would like to have a president who does the same.

The fear about Trump ignoring the laws and procedures is justified, but not because of the damage he's doing to laws and procedures – it's because of the damage he's doing to the people of this country and the world.

Take the records that Trump has destroyed – vital data about public health and other subjects (thankfully, most of this was saved from destruction by the Internet Archive). The most important fact about that act of destruction is the harm that will result from it, not the failure to follow procedure.

There are plenty of times in which I am OK with people ignoring the law and destroying records. In 1943, Dutch guerrillas bombed the civil registry building in Amsterdam, to keep the records of where Jews and other disfavored minorities lived out of the hands of occupying Nazis. The firefighters on the scene kept their hoses running until any paper that hadn't been burned was reduced to slurry:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1943_Amsterdam_civil_registry_office_bombing

I'm fine with destroying records that wicked, vicious authoritarians would use to harm my neighbors.

Remember when Biden tried to cancel student debt? He could have started off by destroying the records of who owed what, so when the courts overturned his administrative action, it would have been hard or impossible to collect on the debts that were still held on federal books, or whose records the feds had (no, I'm not suggesting that Nazi death camp deportations are equivalent to unjust student debt collections, but if you agree that sometimes it's OK to illegally destroy records, then all we're left with is haggling over the specifics).

Sure, this would have been a constitutional crisis, but, as Ryan Grim says, "It is apparently unconstitutional for the president to instruct the Department of Education to restructure and forgive some student loan debt but it is ok for DOGE chair Elon Musk to just get rid of the whole department. Anywho."

https://twitter.com/ryangrim/status/1888973174819164663?t=Cd8fl4FWjY5zsOlQWZGv4g

Canceling debt isn't forgiving debt. Student borrowers have been preyed upon by colleges and lenders. People who borrowed $79.000 and paid back $190,000 can somehow still owe $236,000 do not need to be forgiven, because (unlike Trump) they haven't sinned. Rather, their debts need to be canceled (like Trump):

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/04/kawaski-trawick/#strike-debt

Trump's shown us what a president should do when the courts get in their way: fight back. Worst case scenario is the court prevails, and a bunch of Fedsoc judges (up to and including the Supreme Court) set binding precedent that reduces the power of the president, which would be, you know, great. Best case scenario: Americans are freed from these crippling, fraudulent debts and, you know, vote for Democrats and against Trump, instead of staying home because they don't feel like the Democrats have their back.

Defying unjust court decisions isn't Trumpian – it's Rooseveltian. Roosevelt (following in Lincoln's footsteps) spent years discrediting and weakening the Supreme Court's power, using his bully pulpit to rob them of authority and build the political will to pack the court, which he was on the brink of doing when the Supreme Court surrendered:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/20/judicial-equilibria/#pack-the-court

Democrats developed an online organizing playbook, and it worked, so Republicans took it, improved on it, and won elections. Republicans have developed a devastatingly effective constitutional hardball playbook. Democrats should steal that playbook and run with it:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/18/states-rights/#cold-civil-war

I rang doorbells, made phone calls, and shelled out money for Democrats in the last cycle because I wanted them to do stuff that helps Americans, not because I wanted them to follow procedures. The fact that Trump is building offshore concentration camps and has deported our neighbors to them (to name just one of many cheap dystopian fanfics that Trump is LARPing) should be the kind of five-alarm fire that sent South Korean lawmakers scaling the barricades last month.

This is the kind of crisis where I'd expect Democrats on the Hill, at a minimum, to be refusing to give Trump and the GOP anything. Call quorum on every vote. Debate every amendment. Raise every objection. Vote against everyting. Do not confirm a single appointee. And any elected Dem that refuses to play along? Kick 'em out of the caucus. Oh, we can't afford to do that because we can't afford to lose a single lawmaker? How did that work out with Kirsten Synema and Joe Manchin? Shoulda kicked them out after the first vote, shoulda raised money for any real Dem willing to primary them. Should have shunned them in the hallways and refused to invite them to the Christmas parties. We should do that to Fetterman. Party unity got us nothing under Biden. Party unity got us Trump. Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome isn't actually the formal definition of insanity, but it is nevertheless very, very stupid.

For the past four years, Very Serious Grownups in the Democratic machine kept telling us that we couldn't expect the president to do anything, or Congress to do anything, or the Senate to do anything, because the Republicans would stop them. Or the courts would stop them. Why fight when you know you're gonna lose? Because sometimes, you'll win. And even if you lose, you'll go down fighting.

Better yet, if you lose in just the right way, you'll force Trump's judges to take away powers from the President and the administrative agencies – take away the powers Trump is now wielding like a sledgehammer.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/11/you-and-what-army/#student-debt

[neodymiumcuilz]

LIST - FUNDRAISERS FOR FAMILIES IN GAZA 🍉🍉

Hello everyone, here is a list of many families from Gaza here on tumblr, who are looking for support in their fundraising goals. If you would like for me to remove/add anyone from/to the list please message me, my asks/messages are open!

Your donations mean so much, not only do they offer humanitarian aid, but they also offer hope. Light in the darkness. The people of Gaza have gone through so much tragedy that we cannot even comprehend it without experiencing it. Your donations are never worthless, it can be a turning point in the fundraising goal - or be their lifeline. Please consider donating to these fundraisers, or sharing their voices and stories to the world, we mustn't ignore their suffering any longer, and we should demand justice for the victims and families affected.

Without further or do;

@saharfamily22 7% of donation goal raised

@life-111 85% of goal raised

@fatoam232 53% raised

@ahmadgaza-1 22% raised

@a-hero-from-gaza 10% raised

@mahmoudgazas-world $3,035 / 101,000

@ahmad-1960 $4,550/ 40K

@mahagaza5 ( @mahmoud3sblog ) 18% raised

@emanalmadhoun5 39% raised

@abdquffa9 9% raised

@mahmodjsy14 48% raised

@marwa1009 8% raised

@rehamo3cats €248/ 10K

@shadialwan1 37% raised

@gazamaha4 9% raised

@raniagaza 24% raised

@olagazza4 3% raised

@maimabuhamda 74% raised

@hany543 23% raised

@hane-qazaz $865/ 55K

@esraa2olwan 37% raised

@safa-sh 59% raised

@weamfanona 4% raised

@leangaza 0% raised

@maramgaza21 8% raised

@kareman-dohaan 70% raised

@enasfamli 8% raised

@hifahomeid 13% raised

@moinsfamily1 71% of goal raised

@wesam75 only $50 raised

@aiamaher2 11% raised

@strangekittengalaxy £196 raised

@aboodalqedra22 93% raised

@rima01 23% raised

@mohammedkassab2 $471 raised

@nohagaza2 6% raised

@ahmadahmadgaza 31% raised

@aydaabushanab 45% raised

@arijwatfa 2% raised

@aligaza4 5% raised

@khloud-family1 $320 raised

@wasimhourani6 71% raised

@asmaa-family99 €163 raised

@abood-3 $800 raised

@randasobh23 3% raised

@hanan95s €994 raised

@familykhetam3 17% raised

@samirahmed125 40% raised

@abuyasin156 7% raised

@jwanandsham 58% raised

@amal-0-14 72% raised

@moomenmeshal3 11% raised

@mosabahmad1 4% raised

@gazamaha-2 11% raised

@eileenfamily14 0% raised

87% RAISED

9% RAISED

Please note that not all of these fundraisers are vetted, you can check them our for yourself. Ultimatley its your choice which campaigns you choose to support.

Please donate if you have the means to. If you have any means of transferring money (WHICH MOST OF YALL DO...) you should be good to donate! What's you may spend on a coffee or something can really help a family out.

[nvxzaa]

── .✦ The trip

Pairing : no¡idol!Han Jisung x oc

Word : 4.9

Genre : smut,

Warning : oral (f & m received), p in v, cheating, unprotected sex

Untouchable

- I can't believe you never did this with Emy.

- We don't really do that kind of thing together...

As they did almost every evening, Han and Tasneem found themselves alone in the living room.

Tonight, Tasneem had decided to make a mask and had forced Han to put one on too.

Han sighed as he watched his reflection in the black screen of the television. He ran a hand over his face, grimacing under the sticky texture of the mask.

- What exactly is this supposed to do to me?" he asked, glancing at Tasneem, who was settling comfortably on the sofa.

- Relax you," she replied, closing her eyes. Besides, your skin will thank me later.

He rolled his eyes, but didn't protest. They did it as if it were harmless, as if their complicity hadn't taken a completely different turn in recent days. As if their kisses, their too-long glances and the way they looked for each other meant nothing.

A silence settled in. Han turned his head towards her.

- It itches.

Tasneem reopened one eye and looked at him, amused.

- Don't touch it.

- Easy for you to say...

A smirk appeared on her lips before she reached out to graze his forehead with her fingertips. Han didn't move. His gaze lingered on her a little too long.

- Stop it," he murmured.

Tasneem said nothing. Her eyes slid to his, then to his mouth. Han felt his throat tighten.

He mustn't. Not now.

So he turned his face away abruptly and stood up.

- I'll get some water.

She didn't try to stop him. But when he pulled away, he knew she was still looking at him. That she understood.

Han lingered in the kitchen longer than necessary. He opened the fridge, closed it and poured water into a glass, which he didn't even drink. His heart was beating too fast, and he knew exactly why.

Tasneem.

It was always her.

Since they'd crossed that line, everything had become more complicated. He'd laid down rules, set barriers. No inappropriate gestures. No kissing. Not until he ended what he had with Emy.

And yet, every time they found themselves alone, those barriers seemed ready to crumble.

He took a deep breath before returning to the living room. Tasneem was still settled on the sofa, eyes glued to her phone, as if nothing had happened. But he could see the tension in her posture, the way she absentmindedly played with a lock of her hair.

- You've got it bad," she said without looking up.

- The water was too cold," he lied, sitting down at the other end of the sofa.

She gave an amused smile, but didn't try to go any further. Perhaps she respected his vow of abstinence more than he did.

There was silence, disturbed only by the sound of a video on his phone. Han closed her eyes, trying to relax, but the smell of the mask, mingled with Tasneem's, prevented her from thinking of anything but herself.

Then, without warning, she broke the silence:

- Honestly, do you think you'll make it?

Han opened his eyes in surprise. He turned his head towards her.

- What, Han?

- Your vow. Abstinence. Do you think you'll make it to the end of the trip?

She looked at him this time, with that defiant gleam in her eyes.

Han clenched his jaw.

- Yes, I do.

Tasneem tilted her head, falsely innocent.

- Too bad.

Han should have ignored her remark. He should have kept his eyes glued to the TV's black screen, drank his water and pretended his heart wasn't pounding in his chest.

But he couldn't.

He turned his head toward her.

- What do you mean, "too bad"?" he asked, his voice hoarser than he would have liked.

Tasneem shrugged slightly, his gaze riveted on his phone. She was toying with him, as she always did. But this time, he wasn't in the mood to take it lying down.

He set his glass down on the coffee table and slowly moved closer, his shoulder brushing hers.

- Say that again," he murmured.

She finally looked up at him. Her expression was neutral, but he could see the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

- I said too bad," she repeated without breaking down.

- Why?

A smile grazed her lips.

- Because I think it's silly.

Han pursed his lips. He knew she didn't agree with his vow of abstinence. She never had.

- It's not silly," he retorted. It's necessary.

- Necessary for whom? You or Emy?

He closed his eyes for a moment. Of course she'd go there. Of course she'd seek to sway him.

- For us," he said simply.

Tasneem stared at him for a moment, then smiled slightly. Then, slowly, she reached out and grazed his jaw with her fingertips. Han felt his breath catch.

- Are you sure?" she whispered.

He wasn't sure of anything anymore.

His gaze slipped to her mouth, and in a second, he lost control.

He grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her. Not hesitantly. Not with restraint. With everything he'd forced himself to contain over the last few days.

Tasneem responded immediately, her fingers clinging to his shirt. She had expected him to resist again. That he would push her away at the last moment. But he didn't.

When he finally pulled back, their breaths were short. The silence that followed was far more deafening than the kiss itself.

Han lowered his head, letting her forehead touch his.

- Crap...

Tasneem smiled.

- Too late for fences," she murmured.

Han couldn't catch his breath. He knew he'd just blown it. That his bloody vow of abstinence meant nothing.

And yet, he had no regrets.

Nor did Tasneem, judging by the wry smile she gave him as she rose from the sofa.

- I'll get a towel," she said, disappearing into the corridor.

Han closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face, completely forgetting about the mask sticking to his skin. He sighed as he sank further into the sofa. He should have held out. Just a little longer.

But she'd known exactly how to make him bend.

Moments later, she returned with a damp towel. He expected her to sit next to him, as usual. But she didn't.

Without the slightest hesitation, she climbed onto his lap, wedging one leg on either side of him.

Han froze.

- Tasneem...

- Shut up," she breathed.

She gently pressed the towel against his cheek, wiping away the mask with slow, almost tender gestures. Han let her, unable to take his eyes off her.

She was too close.

Much too close.

Her fingers occasionally brushed his skin, and with each touch, he felt a shiver run down his spine.

- You shouldn't do that," he murmured, without much conviction.

- Doing what?

She was smiling, of course. She knew exactly what she was doing.

Han instinctively put his hands on her hips, more to steady himself than to push her away.

- Stop playing," he breathed.

Tasneem tilted her head slightly, continuing to clean her face with calculated slowness.

- You broke first," she reminded him in a whisper.

He closed his eyes.

- And I'm going to crack again if you keep this up.

Then she dropped the napkin on the coffee table and let her hands slide down the back of his neck.

- Then crack," she murmured.

Han should have pushed her away. He should have stood up, put some distance between them, reminded her that he'd imposed limits on himself.

But he didn't move.

His hands instinctively found her waist, his fingers lightly pressing the fabric of her top. Tasneem was there, on top of him, so close he could feel the warmth of her skin through his clothes.

- You tempt me," he breathed.

- You're the one who let me," she retorted, her gaze planted in his.

She had a point. He could have stopped her from the start. He could have turned his head away when she'd cleaned his face with unsettling gentleness.

But he hadn't.

Han slid a hand up his back, brushing his fingertips along his spine. Tasneem shivered slightly, but she didn't back away. On the contrary, she moved even closer, until their breaths mingled.

- You should stop," he murmured.

- Why?

His voice was a whisper, a challenge.

Han stared at her mouth. His barriers were barely holding, wavering, fragile. He'd promised to wait. Not to touch her until everything was clear with Emy.

But right now, he didn't give a damn.

So he gave in.

He grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her, this time without hesitation, without restraint. Tasneem responded immediately, his fingers tightening in her hair. The kiss was more feverish, more desperate than the previous one.

Han held her close, lifting her slightly to feel her against him. He wasn't thinking anymore. He didn't want to think.

When they finally parted, their breaths were ragged. Han rested his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed.

- This is the last time," he murmured.

Tasneem smiled against his lips.

- Of course it is.

They both knew it was a lie.

The silence that followed was charged. Far too charged.

Han should have stepped back. He should have pulled her off his lap, re-established that damn distance he'd been struggling to maintain for days.

But Tasneem was still there, sitting on him, her hands still lost in his hair, her lips still wet with his.

He couldn't look away.

Her breath brushed his skin, her chest heaving against his. Her weight on his thighs, the heat radiating from her, everything was driving him crazy.

- Stop thinking," she murmured, running her fingers over the back of his neck.

Han swallowed, his breathing short.

- I'm trying.

Tasneem sketched a slow, calculated smile before straightening slightly. Her hips brushed against his in an almost innocent movement. Almost.

Han clenched his jaw.

- Tasneem...

- What?" she breathed.

She was looking at him with that gleam in her eyes, that mixture of provocation and desire he'd never seen in her before. And it was destroying him.

Slowly, she slid her hands down his torso, tracing a burning line through the fabric of his T-shirt.

Han closed his eyes for a second. Just a second. Then he put his hands on her hips, this time without restraint.

He pulled her against him, their pelvises brushing, and Tasneem let out a barely audible sigh. But he heard her.

- You're playing with fire," he whispered against her mouth.

- And you keep holding me back.

A shiver ran down his spine as she moved her hips against him again. This time, it was his turn to stifle a sigh.

She was enjoying herself. She knew exactly what she was doing.

But Han was not to be outdone.

In one swift movement, he tipped her onto the sofa, reversing their positions. He found himself on top of her, one hand pressed against the cushion beside her head, the other still clinging to her hip.

Tasneem looked at him, surprised.

- Do you want to play?

She bit her lip, provocatively.

- Maybe I do.

Han leaned in slowly, grazing his jaw with the tip of his lips, moving slowly down to his neck.

- Then assume.

Tasneem shivered under her breath. She should have expected it. She'd pushed him, she'd sought him out, and now she was the one trapped beneath him.

The sofa was too narrow, their bodies too close. Han hardly moved, but his weight above her, the heat emanating from him, everything was suffocating.

- Assume, eh... she murmured, her voice slightly shaky.

Han smiled against her skin before placing a kiss just below her ear.

- Yeah.

His hand slid slowly down her thigh, up to her waist. He couldn't take his eyes off her, scrutinizing her every reaction.

Tasneem could have stepped back. She could have pushed him away, reminded him of his bloody vow of abstinence.

But she didn't.

She slipped her fingers under his shirt, tracing invisible lines against his skin. Han shivered, his breath catching for a second.

- Do you realize what you're doing?" he breathed against her throat.

She smiled, brushing the tip of her lips against his jaw.

- Are you going to tell me to stop again?

Han closed his eyes. He was on the verge of losing control. Her hand tightened slightly on his waist, and he felt his belly contract under her fingers.

- Tasneem...

She interrupted him by tilting her hips slightly, a barely perceptible movement but enough to make him lose his breath.

He straightened slightly, staring at her.

- You're really trying to drive me crazy, aren't you?

- What if you already have?

She arched an eyebrow, a smile playing at the corner of her lips.

Han bit his lip.

He knew he had to stop there. He knew he had to.

But when she put her hand on the back of his neck to pull him against her again, he knew he wasn't going to do it.

- No sex...

He said as he pressed his lips to hers and pulled her into a long kiss.

Tasneem didn't respond, content to prolong the kiss, his fingers sliding through her hair. Her body instinctively aligned itself with his, her breathing mingling with his in a feverish mix.

Han tightened his grip a little more on her waist, drawing her against him again, unable to fight the urge to feel her closer. He knew he was playing with fire, that the line between their pact and what they were doing was becoming increasingly blurred.

He reluctantly broke the kiss, his forehead against hers, his breath coming in short gasps.

- You're hell," he murmured, closing his eyes.

Tasneem smiled, brushing his cheek with her fingertips.

- Yet you keep plunging in.

He let out a bitter laugh, his hands losing themselves for a moment on his hips before he pulled back slightly.

- Because you're dragging me into it," he replied.

She raised an eyebrow, looking falsely innocent.

- I didn't force you to come here.

Han shook his head, a smile on his face, before gently pushing her away.

- If I stay here, I'll end up cracking.

Tasneem stared at him, arms crossed, before tilting her head slightly.

- Haven't you already?

He glared at her before looking away.

- I'm off to bed.

- Good luck with that," she huffed mockingly.

Han clenched his jaw, but said nothing. He left the room, still feeling the warmth of her hands on him, and knowing full well that she was right.

He wasn't going to sleep all night.

Han had tried. He really had.

Lying on the bed he shared with Emy, he'd stared at the ceiling, trying to calm his panicked heart, to catch his breath, to forget Tasneem's warmth against him.

But he couldn't.

Every beat of his heart sounded like a burning reminder of what he'd just left downstairs. And the more he tried to think of something else, the more he felt his body clamoring for that contact he'd been running away from.

After ten minutes, he cracked.

He leapt to his feet, left the room without a sound and went back downstairs.

Tasneem was still in the living room, settled on the sofa, her phone in her hands. When she looked up at him, an amused smile stretched her lips.

- Miss me already?

Han didn't answer. He took a few steps towards her, grabbed her wrist and pulled her roughly onto his thighs. Tasneem let out a slight cry of surprise, before meeting his gaze.

Her breath caught.

Han was nothing like the hesitant boy of a few minutes ago. His eyes were dark, burning, his body tense beneath her.

- You win," he breathed against her cheek.

He passed one hand over the back of her neck, the other sliding to her hip, and drew her to him to kiss her with an intensity that made her shiver.

Tasneem smiled against her lips, tying his arms around her neck.

- I always win.

Han bit her lightly in response, a smile against her skin.

- Shut your mouth.

And this time, he wasn't going to hold back.

Tasneem shivered as Han's hands moved slowly up her back, drawing her even closer to him. She could feel the tension in her body, the restraint that threatened to give way at any moment.

- You have no idea what you're doing," he breathed against her skin.

- Oh yes, I do," she murmured, brushing his jaw with the tip of her lips.

Han gritted his teeth, his hand slipping under the light fabric of her top to rest against the curve of her waist. He was hot, too hot, and the way she was moving gently against him wasn't helping.

He tipped slightly backwards onto the sofa, dragging Tasneem with him. She didn't protest, on the contrary. Her fingers clung to his shirt, absentmindedly caressing his skin as if to provoke him further.

- What exactly are you playing at?" he said, his voice huskier than he'd intended.

- Can't I just enjoy the moment?

Han stared at her, his burning gaze anchored to hers. He knew exactly what she was doing. She was testing his limits, pushing him to give up the damn control he was trying so hard to keep.

A smile grazed his lips.

- You're poison," he breathed.

- A poison you like, apparently.

He let out a short laugh before pressing her gently against him, capturing her lips with a desire he no longer tried to conceal. Tasneem relented, his nails digging lightly into the nape of her neck.

The seconds stretched, their breaths intermingled, and Han knew he was nearing the point of no return.

He broke the kiss, his forehead against hers, his breathing jerky.

- If we keep this up, I won't be able to stop.

Tasneem held his gaze, a provocative gleam in her eyes.

- Who asked you to stop?

Han grunted, tightening his fingers on her waist.

- Damn, you're serious...

She raised an eyebrow, amused.

- I said no sex. Not 'no pleasure'.

A shiver ran up his spine. He stared at her, torn between temptation and reason.

Reason lost.

In one fluid movement, he tipped her under him on the sofa, his burning gaze anchored to hers.

- You're driving me crazy," he breathed before capturing her lips once more.

Tasneem's only response was to place her lips on his, pressing their pelvises together.

Han moved his lips down her throat, savoring every sigh he drew from Tasneem. She clung to him, her nails sliding across his neck, her breath coming in short gasps.

- Hannie...

Her voice was barely a whisper, but he felt his stomach contract at the sound of her first name. He moved his hand slightly up to her waist, absentmindedly caressing the skin he'd just revealed.

He knew they were playing with a dangerous boundary.

But right now, he didn't give a damn.

- It's an ordeal to have you there on my legs, in those pajamas, and not be able to touch you...

Han's fingers brushed Tasneem's bare skin beneath her top, tracing burning shivers as they passed. Every sigh she let out was a new invitation, a silent encouragement that drove him a little crazier.

He moved his lips up her throat, savoring the way she shivered under his touch. He wanted to feel her give in, to see her lose her footing as much as he was in the process of doing.

- Do you realize what you're doing?" he breathed against her skin, echoing his own words from earlier.

Tasneem smiled, her fingers clutching at his hair.

- Are you going to tell me to stop again?

Han grunted slightly, his hands tightening their grip on her waist.

- I don't feel like it.

- Then stop talking.

She straightened slightly and kissed him again, this time with an urgency he hadn't expected. She pressed herself a little harder against him, and he felt a shiver run up his spine.

He wanted her.

Fuck, he wanted her so bad.

But part of him knew he had to control himself.

Han reluctantly broke the kiss, his forehead against hers, his breath coming in short gasps.

- If we go on...

Tasneem stroked his cheek with her fingertips, her gaze anchored to his.

- We said no sex. But...

She left her sentence hanging, a smile grazing her lips.

Han closed his eyes briefly, biting the inside of his cheek.

- But what?

She brushed her thumb across her lower lip, her gaze burning with mischief.

- There's nothing to stop us from doing ourselves good in other ways.

Han's heart missed a beat.

His fingers tightened slightly on her, a trembling sigh escaping his lips.

- You're a real devil," he murmured.

Tasneem laughed softly, leaning into her ear.

- And yet, you keep coming back to me.

Han closed his eyes for a second.

Then, without waiting any longer, he reversed their position again, his gaze anchored to hers.

- Then let me show you how much, Sungie.

Han's eyes follow Tasneem as she descends from Han's thighs, and kneels in front of him.

His cheeks burn immediately as he understands what she's getting at.

- Wait, what are you doing?!

- let me show you how much a like you Sungie...

His heart missed a beat as he met her hazel gaze, burning with desire. Every word she spoke resonated within him, enveloping him in a dizzying heat.

"How much I like you."

- Don't say that...

- why ?

She reaches under her pajama pants and pulls out her dick, which is already almost completely hard.

- She likes it when I say that.

She glanced up at him before kissing the top of his dick with her fingertips, sending a shiver down Han's spine.

A shiver runs down Han's spine as she begins to take his full length in her mouth.

- F-fuck..babe, you so good at this..

She smiles against his sick, going a little further, and twirling her mouth around.

And if there's one thing Han prefers-apart from having his soul sucked by the one who's probably calling his girlfriend-it's giving what he gets.

He runs his hands over Tasneem's curls, looking down at her cheeks, before moistening his lips.

- let me...please, love, let me eat you out...

She smiles against him, taking her cock out of her mouth with a *plop*, then laughs lightly.

- You really want that?

- Please, I really want that. Babe, please...

She masturbates his cock a little more, before standing up slowly, still under his gaze.

With infinite slowness, she pulls down her pyjama pants slightly, ending up in just panties and a tank top.

She sits on his thighs, her dick now on his buttocks, and puts her lip on his.

He grabs her by the hips, and lies back on the sofa.

When their lips part, he kisses her neck, running his hand over her panty-covered pussy.

- It's no sex if I didn't put my dick on you..

She laughs lightly, stepping back from him and removing her panties.

She ends up with her back to him, back to her dick, while he has a direct view of her pussy.

- Yeah, if you want, babe.

He wastes no time in bringing his hands to her buttocks before sticking his lips to Tasneem's. She moans slightly at his touch.

She moans slightly at his gesture, before masking it with her cock, which ends up in his mouth.

They were both present on the sofa, giving each other pleasure, masking their moans.

It was going to be a long night.

Han was the first to reach ecstasy, and when he felt that ball forming in the pit of his stomach, he clung even tighter to Tasneem, and accelerated his tongue movements on her, provoking her orgasm.

And the next thing you know, Tasneem's breasts, covered in her pink tank top, are covered in Han's love essence.

- You're so perfect...

The two remain silent for a few seconds, both breathless.

But they want more, there's no denying it, they're not satisfied and they need more.

Tasneem turns, coming face to face with her.

She sticks her pussy to Han's dick, who throws back his head at the contact.

- What did we do now?

she says, giving him several successive kisses on the jaw.

- No sexe...

- But, we want sex...

She moves her pelvis lightly over him, making him a little harder. He puts his hands on her hips, looking down at her.

- Fuck, you're so beautiful..so perfect. Perfect for me.

Tasneem laughs as she lifts her pelvis to place the tip of Han's cock above her, before sitting back slightly on him.

- Sh-shit..

She begins to bounce lightly on him, while he guides her with his hands on her waist.

- sh-shit keep riding my cock , just like that.

- Sungie, you're...fuck! That so good...

- Yeah ? You're so perfect baby...

And she continues, again and again, bouncing on him, moaning less and less loudly, while he lingers on her breasts, which he's delivered from the tank top, or kisses her several times on her upper body.

- Th-think I'm gonna..fuck, I'm gonna ass Hanji...

- Fuck, yeah, keep calling me like that, I will make you come every night and every morning until my death babe...

And it only took a few seconds for her to cum.

She licked her lips, holding back a scream, while he continued to bang her on top of him before he himself reached ecstasy for the second time this night.

- Fuck. I'm so sorry, I cum inside..

- Yeah..not bad..I will..gonna buy a pills tomorrow...

He doesn't answer, grabbing the towel they used earlier in the evening to clean their mask, and he lingers on his chest to clean it.

- just two week babe, after that I will call you mine..

He places several kisses all over her face, making her giggle.

- Just two weeks,Sungie Baby...

The days had flown by, but for Han, every hour that passed seemed to weigh a little heavier on his shoulders.

Every moment, he had to play his part with Emy, smile when she looked at him, give her a hug when she asked for it, give her the impression that they were this perfect couple she believed he and she embodied. But it was all wrong. Everything demanded an unbearable effort, a lie that he dragged from morning to night.

Because everything in her reminded him that it was his sister he wanted.

And every night, this truth became more striking.

Almost every night, after making sure Emy was fast asleep, he would discreetly go downstairs to Tasneem in the living room. Sometimes he'd find her sitting on the sofa, her phone in her hands and a half-finished glass of milk on the table. Other times, she was already waiting for him, wrapped in a blanket, half-asleep, a tired smile lighting up her face when she saw him arrive.

It had become their routine, their escape, their most precious secret.

They weren't sleeping together.

They might have. The tension was there, omnipresent, breathtakingly heavy. Every glance, every prolonged touch screamed the desire they were struggling to suppress. But they had decided to wait. Not to cross that line until Han was free.

So they found other ways to lose themselves in each other.

Caresses trailing over bare skin, kisses exchanged in the shadows of the living room, bodies pressed against each other without ever going any further. Tasneem was tempting him, she knew. But she respected his choice, and maybe that was what made it all the more unbearable.

And now they were almost there.

The eve of departure.

The next day, they would leave this house, return to their respective lives, and Han would finally be able to face what he'd been running from for too long.

Han closed his eyes for a moment, savoring her presence against him, before drawing her into a final embrace.

Tomorrow they would leave. But tonight, she was still his.

Han showered her with kisses, spreading his affection over every inch of her face. She laughed softly, holding him a little closer. She loved these moments when he showed himself to be more tender, when the frustration they both felt vanished just for a moment beneath the gentleness.

She let herself go against him, inhaling his scent, memorizing the warmth of his body against hers.

This would be the last night before they returned to reality.

And tonight, she intended to enjoy every last second of it.

Untouchable part.7

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Prompts Squad; in which there are many Holmeses and parenting is a contact sport]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) 20: do-over (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

It's a new week, and John declares on Monday he's certain it's going to be easier than the last one.

What an idiot.

---

By the time they reach Wednesday, they've not been back from hospital twenty-four hours when Sherlock's dear mama orders them onto a train. 

'Mother,' Sherlock hisses into his mobile, glancing across the room to where John is firmly planted on the sofa with his daughter tight in his arms, watching Peppa Pig. 'Rosamund just got out of A&E. We don't want to go down the street, let alone out to a place so far from an adequate hospital that--' 

'Oh, poppycock' 

'I'm sorry?' 

'Now, don't be angry at me, darling. I know you must be frightened to bits for your little girl--' 

Sherlock turns away from the sofa again, chest clenching for the approximately thousandth time in the past two days. 'She's not my little girl,' he says between his teeth, trying to keep his voice steady and quiet.

'--but I'm only trying to help.'

Sherlock knows it's one of those times John would be a much better fit for the task at hand. Unfortunately, she's stuck with her son instead. 'Mummy. Clearly, that would not help.'

'You're not planning on feeding her peanuts again, are you?'

Sherlock closes his eyes. 'I won't dignify that with an answer.'

'Then pack an epipen and come see your mother. I want to kiss that baby.'

---

John is doing his best, Sherlock observes once they're gathered round his parents' kitchen table, but he's clearly still feeling scads of parental guilt. He refuses to let Rosamund out of his sight, and his jaw keeps doing that jumpy bit that means he's repressing something. Several somethings, obviously, because he is John Watson.

And Sherlock almost abhors how much he cares for John Watson.

---

His mother, naturally, can't hold back for long. 

'Oh, John, I do hate to see you like this.'

John freezes like the proverbial deer in headlights, then carefully puts down his fork, stiff upper lip firmly in place. 'Thanks, Mrs Holmes, but I'm all right.' 

Sherlock, who knows better, shares a Look with Rosamund, who blurps his name(ish) then happily stuffs more pickle into her mouth. John's face softens momentarily, and she notices. 'Want some, Daddy?'

It's not a question; John is immediately handed a chubby fistful of globby green.

'She not a fan of spoons, then?' Sherlock's father says with a chuckle.

'Only as a weapon,' Sherlock replies without thinking, but luckily it's the correct audience, because beyond an eye roll, the reaction is mostly laughter.

Except for John, Sherlock notices immediately. Oh, dear.

His mother notices, too, and her lips purse. 'John, I know we're all very English, but I'm old enough that I can speak plainly.'

'As if you hadn't already,' Sherlock mutters.

She ignores him, instead reaching out to touch John's right hand where it rests on the table. 'You mustn't punish yourself. You've done nothing wrong.'

John's extreme discomfort would be crystal clear to anyone in a ten mile radius. 'Mrs Holmes…'

'I mean it.'

He puts down his fork, and Sherlock sees him inhale purposefully. 'All due respect, ma'am, but my daughter nearly died. She nearly died because I insisted she eat something she clearly and repeatedly did not want to eat.'

'And?'

John's mouth opens, then shuts, before he speaks again. 'Are you joking?'

'Everyone makes mistakes with their children, dear.'

'Not that sort of mistake.'

She makes a noise close to a ladylike snort, if such a thing existed. 'We almost drowned Sherlock when he was her age.'

Sherlock's front chair legs drop back to the floor with a thunk. 'Beg pardon?'

'Yes, you came frightfully close to dying, it was very unpleasant.'

John's facade breaks enough to give Sherlock a slight smirk. 'And you didn't recognise my facetiousness on that train?'

'Yes, yes, thank you, now what is this about me drowning, Mother?'

'We left you with another child, a girl of maybe twelve.' She shakes her head. 'That poor girl. She's never forgiven herself.'

'But I didn't die!'

'Sherlock,' his mother chides. 'Don't be unkind.'

'Wait. Why didn't I die?'

A curious silence falls over the group. 

Sherlock's chin drops, and he sighs. 'Mycroft.'

His mother nods. 'He was in the deeper end, and you were in the shallow end. Where you were meant to stay.'

John huffs a laugh. 'Right, good luck with that.'

She tuts. 'He's lucky his brother was watching.'

'You don't remember any of it?' John asks, clearly curious.

Sherlock thinks. 'I remember a pool, several pools, from childhood. Various ponds. I remember-- Yes, I think the first time I ventured into the deep end, I blinked and I was at the ladder.'

'Indeed,' his mother says.

'Right,' John says, bemused. 'So you've always hated pools, even before we nearly got blown up in one.'

His mother blinks. 'Beg pardon?'

'Oh don't fret, Mummy.' Sherlock waves a hand. 'It was ages ago.'

And worse things have happened since then, no one needs say.

Except his mother says it, sort of. 'She's going to have such unusual stories to tell,' she says, turning to Rosamund and touching her tiny nose briefly. 'Aren't you, darling?'

'Any hope of a normal childhood was gone long ago, I'm afraid,' John says, his voice only a little strained.

Sherlock's father, unexpectedly, speaks up. 'Perhaps, but what she's got is better.'

'I agree,' his mother says. 'John's normal enough for the three of you, anyway.'

Sherlock smirks privately. Yes, absolutely normal, building-jumping, gun-toting, life-saving John Watson.

As if he'd ever fall in love with "normal."

That's the end of the discussion, apparently, because his mother turns back to Rosamund with a smile. 'Now, precious girl, let's see if you can say "grandmama" yet.' 

---

John, still feeling slightly sour, pulls out his phone once he's put Rosie down. 'Mycroft.' His tone borders on Captainy, but he's too bloody tired to be polite. 'What are you playing at?'

'Couldn't possibly have any idea what you mean, Dr Watson.'

'First my daughter is calling you her uncle, and now your mum is teaching her "grandmama"?'

'I fail to see the problem. She's very intelligent.'

John pinches the bridge of his nose. He can't shout, because Rosie is asleep in her cot next to him, and though Sherlock is outside smoking, Sherlock's parents are somewhere on the other side of the guest room door.

'Your brother,' he finally says lowly, 'cares for Rosie a great deal, but has most definitely not voiced an interest in being her father, nor should he feel obligated to.'

'With all due respect, John, I must disagree.'

'How.' It's not a question.

Mycroft's voice isn't hard, but he enunciates every word very, very clearly. 'She is my niece. If you can't see it, then God help you... Although I am aware my brother has inherited more than his fair share of the Holmes reticence. But,' he concludes, implacable, 'lest you forget: He said it himself. You are family. And therein lies the obligation.' 

John's heart does a little twitch in his chest. 'Yeah, but--'

'No.'

'But--'

'Not to sound too much like my dear brother, but John?'

John exhales. 'Can't wait to hear this.'

'Don't be an idiot.'

'Oi--'

But the call is already over. Of course it is. Because Mycroft Holmes is a bastard.

He might also, maybe, just this once… be right.

[ <3 ]

[pool story lifted from my childhood: I literally remember nothing bad about nearly drowning; my five-years-elder brother saved me and I have loved swimming ever since]

[nekioe]

So…. I’m all for a mystery, what is this nameless document 2?

Both documents are actually just called nameless document and i kind of maybe forgot which one was 2 and which one was 1... here is one of them at least

I thought about a season 2 au where the nuke drops but they survive. I haven't really thought about how, but I just think that it seemed like tommy and dream understood each other better after the concersation they had before the nuke. And I wanted to see what could happen if they got the chance to try make peace with each other.

Dream stands by the gates of Pandora, what used to be pandora. It's now a ruin now, a big crater surrounding it and smoke slowly but steadily swirling up towards the sky. Dream remembers the explosion. He thought the server would have reset, that it all would finally be over, and yet here he stands.

There's footsteps coming up behind him, and he should swirl around, equip his shield and axe and get ready to defend himself. There's no one here who doesn't want to kill him (except for punz, but Dream knows Punz steps and they're not loud like these). But, he's tired, and There's something within him that just stops him from making the move. He doesn't really know why.

“How are we still here?” It's Tommy, of course It's Tommy, when is it not? Dream glances back to him through whitish blond locks. The teen, now a young adult, looks back. Bruises cower him here and there and he's covered in soot and dirt. He looks horrible, Dream's sure he mustn't look much better.

“I don't know.” And It's true. The plan was to trigger a server reset, they were meant to die and get reborn as a new clean slate. Hopefully it would lead to something good. Maybe they could have been happy.

“Oh,” Tommy shifts his weight awkwardly, “okay then.” Dream snaps around and Tommy flinches back. He calms down when Dream does nothing more than stare. Both decide to ignore it.

Even though he knows he's telling the truth, that has never stopped anyone on this server from assuming the worst of him. He thought it would still be the same now, but — maybe their conversation actually cleared up some of those assumptions. Maybe Tommy has grown more than he thought. Healed a bit? He looks back to the crater. Well, maybe he's giving the other a little too much credit.

“So… What now?” Tommy takes a hesitant step forward, now standing just at a meter distance.

This is... kind of ooc i think, but they're kind of in shock and Dreams plan just crashed and crumbled right in front of him so whateverrrr- this is first draft and mostly unedited

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt: "You have a fever."

Pairing: Epel Felmier x Gn!Reader/Prefect/Yuu

Genre: Fluff

TW: NA

"Come on, (Name). Please? " Epel batted his eyelashes at you.

You sighed, tilting your head slightly as you looked at him. Fighting against the part of you that just wanted to coo at him and give into his demands was hard, but you managed to contain yourself. You remained silent, watching the shorter boy fidget under your intent gaze.

"Epel is smart," Vil had told you, days before he had to leave for some project. "Despite his hesitancy in using his beauty, he will employ it against you should he want something. He knows you well, Prefect. But you mustn't give in."

I mustn't give in, you chanted in your mind as you looked at Epel, who was growing more antsy by the minute.

"You've just recovered from that cold, Epel. I don't think it'd be a good idea to go out and play in the snow when it's not even been that long," you tried to get him to see reason. "Besides, I'm pretty sure Rook was instructed by Vil to keep an eye on you. If this gets back to him..."

"It won't get back to him!" Epel huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he switched the puppy eyes for a pout. Sevens, was he aiming to persuade you, or to kill you?

"Vil's not here, and Rook's going to the mountains today–"

"Why?"

"– I don't really know, but that's besides the point. (Name), I'm bored. I've been stuck in my room for almost a week, I'm fine now! Besides, isn't it Vil who says going outside is good for your health?"

"He says that to have you join him when he's jogging," you hummed in amusement. "Also, who says I'll not snitch on you to Vil?"

Epel took a step closer to you, gently reaching out to hold your hand in his. A light tug, followed by a soft "Please...?" had you blushing and looking away. Epel tilted forward to catch the expression on your face while you tried to cover it with your free hand.

You mentally apologized to Vil for failing to resist Epel's charms. For someone who disliked being called cute or any synonyms of it, he sure knew how to wield his cuteness. And you were but a weak, weak human.

"Fine. Fifteen minutes," you said, trying to ignore the way Epel's face lit up with smug happiness. "Only fifteen minutes."

"I'll take that!" He smiled as he placed a quick kiss on your cheek, leaving you dumbfounded. The smile on his face quickly turned into a mischievous grin as he let go of you and turned, running out of his dorm yelling, "Last one out's a rotten egg!"

"Hey, not fair!" You yelled back as you chased him.

"You have a fever," Vil's voice rang out, a disappointed note to his words as he stared down at the thermometer in his hand. You squirmed in your place on Epel's bed, twiddling your thumbs. A quick glance to your side showed you an equally miserable and sick Epel mirroring your position.

"In our defense," you started, voice slightly croaky as you looked up at the Pomefiore housewarden, "we were out for only 15 minutes."

"And look what that brought upon the two of you," Vil deadpanned, looking very much like an exasperated mother as he made sure both of you were comfortable.

Rook stood silently in the corner of the room, not moving a muscle as he watched the three of you from where he'd been placed on timeout. His crime? Letting you two be unsupervised for an entire day. You felt bad for him, letting him know that with an apologetic smile in his direction, which he returned with one of his own.

"Honestly... I was away for three days, potatoes," he sighed, manicured hands carefully pressing a cold damp towel to your forehead, then doing the same to Epel. Neither one of you commented on his fussing, not wanting to get scolded any more than you already had.

"Now wait here while I go and brew you some medicinal potions."

"Uh, Vil we could just get some from the infirmary-"

"I said, wait here, like good little spudlings," Vil calmly stared at you, lips curling into a triumphant smile when none of you dared to make a sound in protest. "Good. Rook?"

The blonde in the corner turned his attention to his housewarden. "Yes?"

"Keep an eye on them."

Back to Masterlist...

[hyperfixatinglove]

Summary: Centuries of pining finally ended // Crush fic // AU of Kratos with three children

Atreus was in little garden which glowed in the sunlight, his father by his side. Observed by Mania, who sat by their small window, the sight set on the God of War.

Mania - goddess of mentally ill and madness, sighed. It had been centuries, since their escape from Greek, from Thanatos. Centuries since the fall of Olympus and centuries since they had realized the depth of their feelings for the mellowed God.

Trials, mainly associated with time, haunted the god. Timing was always wrong. First, the God before their eyes had mourned his first love, Lysandra, then it was the birth of Atreus, now it was the mourning of Faye, his second wife.

Mania still remembered the night Kratos had come, their tiny flame of hope in their heart, before the god unknowingly shattered it, by revealing he had become father again, to little boy. The god of mentally ill had known Faye was close with the god, but this type of closeness, they had not anticipated then.

''Would do you good if you'd stop pining for father.'' soft voice beckoned from inside the small cottage Mania had claimed few hundred years ago when they had come to Niflheim. Grey eyes tore their gaze from the duo outside, to focus on young woman with brown hair and skin.

''Calliope you know well enough that's not going to be. I am god of frenzy after all.'' Mania answered the woman, the oldest of Kratos' three children. The woman shook her head before producing a small flute from her pockets, too small for a grown woman to comfortably use, but the eldest stubbornly used it still. The soft melody carried from the cottage to outside, Atreus smiled, Krataos closed his eyes to listen in earnest.

As the melody faded after a short time and Mania had returned her gaze to God of War, another voice piped in.

''Sister, I'd advice you to not give such useless guidance. We have common goal.''

The middle child, Pandora, a child not by blood of Kratos, gently reminded of her more feisty older sister. Her skin was pale, brown hair with stripe of white in a bun, eyes blazing by furious fire. Loud gruff, imitating the same their father made, left Calliope. ''Yes, we all want father to be happy.'' She groaned and crossed her arms. ''Even if it is with Greek god.''

Ignoring the vitriol of the eldest, who had the most time to adjust to his father's committed atrocities and took his side, Mania flustered. Pandora's laughter, beautiful as bells caressed by the wind, bounced off the walls.

''You mustn't conspire against your father.'' The pining god scolded the sisters, the stern voice in war with their flustered, red cheeks. ''The time isn't right, you'd only hurt him.''

''That is what you always tell us.'' It was the middle child's turn to groan in annoyance. ''We never resolve this matter if you keep post-phoning it!''

Mania said nothing. Melancholy of missed opportunities, perhaps of missed life and happiness, had haunted them for centuries, they could withhold against centuries more.

''Who post-phones what?'' Voice from the door butted in to the conversation.

Young boy was standing by the door, quiver and bow sticking out from his back. Short brown hair, striking blue eyes, same as his mother Faye and skin tone in between of Calliope and Pandora's.

''Mania as always Atreus.'' The eldest managed to answer first, cutting off the middle child, who pursed her lips. The youngest child marched in with a short nod, dramatically floundering himself on Mania's bed, before he produced small knife and began playing with it.

The mentioned god could tell the youngest, the only son of Kratos, did not understand what his sisters were referring to. The wounds of losing his mother too fresh to care for anything else.

It was partially due to this young boy Mania had kept silent. It would be spitting on his mother's fresh corpse if they spoke now. The frenzy god did not want to replace nor be mother to the trio, as much as they adored them. Atreus would view it as betrayal to his mother and her memory and would return to the bitterness he had only now shed towards his father.

Their eyes drifted from the son to the father. He sat alone in the garden, surrounded by small meadow of flowers, in silence.

Hands grabbed and pulled and pushed the goddess towards the door before they had time to realize it was happening, frantic yells of Calliope and Pandora's names, the perpetrators of the offense. The wooden door slammed behind the madness god, the giggles of the sister evidence it would be futile to try to re-enter.

Resigned, Mania made his way to their garden and sat silently next to silent Kratos.

Over the few centuries the goddess had known the other god, they knew it was best to be silent, when he was.

''My children are being unruly again.'' His deep, gruff voice rumbled next to Mania, traveling all the way to their heart, once again. Their grey eyes tore from the god, having noticed movement on their open window.

The duo of sisters hang by the window, Calliope almost falling into the bed of flowers below. Pandora was holding grumpy Atreus, who was staring daggers at Mania.

God was mortified. Sisters watching she could deal, but they had dragged the youngest into their schemes. Mania, after the fall of Olympus and Greek, had become more timid, afraid of even getting son of god's wrath on them. Mere runt.

''Pandora, keep your siblings out of the window.'' Kratos muttered, stern, but voice loud enough to be heard by the trio. Mumble of 'yes father' from Pandora and window emptied, not without Calliope's protests.

Mania gazed curiously at God Of War, the man rarely disciplined his apples of his eyes, the sisters. Calliope was even spoiled, by Kratos' standards.

''Is she-''

''Faye is at rest.''

Mania fidgeted. Kratos had kept the promise he had made, coming back to visit after making it to Jötunheim. The god of mental illness did not know what to make of it. The war god surely saw Mania as friend, only one he-

The god barely kept their mouth shut as they saw dangling head on Kratos'. It's eyes were blazing yellow, staring back.

''Hello don't mind me.'' Jolly, if little humorous tone of voice came from the detached head. Mania calmed, a tad, their posture slightly relaxing.

''You did not have talking head with you before.'' They slipped out, eyes now observing this clearly alive, talking head.

''Mimir is useful. A friend.''

Head dubbed Mimir, smiled, wicked grin more than smile, but Mania found he wasn't frightening.

The mostly unknown observer drained all courage the god had, tiny it had been. They would not talk, not today. Gaze shifted from the head to Kratos, who had been looking at Mania. Cheeks flustered, grey eyes averted their gaze.

''This is bollocks! Out with it Mania!'' Mimir cried, making the mentioned god jump. They had not introduced themselves to the head. Cheeks developed scarlet color, even he knew? He had known them for less than minute!

Kratos grumbled. Mimir coughed. ''Kratos told me about you. I came to my own conclusions. There is no nobility in suffering.''

The goddess could only nod, swayed a little in favor of telling, due to Mimir's gentle approach. The man spoke with wisdom gained over hundreds of years.

Mania gingerly placed their hand on Kratos' own resting among the grass and flowers. War god didn't pull away, a small pool of confidence rose in the goddess of frenzy and mania itself. Maybe, if nothing else, their burden would finally lift. Maybe, this would not destroy their friendship.

..If it did, Kratos at least had Mimir..

They called his name. Soft grunt of acknowledgement, for them to go on. Mania gulped.

And dove right in.

''I like you Kratos, do with that what you will. I am not going to intrude on your grief and not on Atreus' life.''

Mania stood to leave, hoping the sisters would allow them entry in their own goddamn home now that the open secret was out to the only being not in the know. Ash pale hand yanked them back down with a thud.

The goddess sat silent, stunned. His hand hold onto their arm, fingers radiated warmth seethed in their body.

''Give us time.''

Spoken like a promise, eased the god's worries. Atreus wrath still lingered on their mind, but war god being open to possibility of them made Mania happy.

[la7ma-mafrooma]

If you post pro-Palestinian content, do not respond to any Zionist comments. I highly encourage you refrain from interacting with any Zionists and simply block them or ignore their comments. Interacting with them will only boost their visibility, which is what we MUSTN'T give them. Focus on boosting pro-Palestinian content only. The Zionists will put you at risk of having your account deleted and they'll also waste your time. Right now our main focus should be on amplifying Palestinian voices. We're at a stage where we don't need to "prove" to any Zionist online that there's an ongoing genocide. Everyone knows and the evidence is all over the internet and we must boost it and do our best to keep the Palestinian cause visible.

Drown out the colonialists' voices. We must keep speaking about Palestine.

THIS APPLIES TO ALL SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS.

[dualityvn]

SPOILERS!

Just ignore if I did this wrong

Though the question is more for you than the boys!

What gave you the idea to make Ten changeling lore like that? I have a similar lore with my own changelings but doesn’t end the same way

Alsoooo is their a preferred plant or like no matter which you chose it’s the same outcome?

And tell the boys I love them! And I want to shower them with affection !

If you're asking why I made him a fae, that's probably because fae mythology is one of my favorites. When I heard stories or warnings related to them, I felt like they made sense. We have a few slightly similar myths in my country as well.

If you're asking why I modified the changeling myth the way I did, that's because it seemed like a cool spin on it. I've heard lots of scary stories about "something else" looking and sounding like a loved one, but you just know it isn't them and you mustn't trust it. So I mixed that with the changeling myth.

The plants determine what happens at the end of Date 2. There is one that will keep you safe!

[themightymoose]

Secret Cupet

Here we are folks. The episode I've heard whispers about for so very long

I'm scared :(

Poor Youngmee is just being manhandled

"I'm confused." mecore

That laugh ain't that bad

Josh is so chill I aspire to be like that

*GASP* DOG YAOI REAL????

They're people watching in a very creepy way right now

Russell... my aro ace king who we stan

Also might I say Pepper probably wouldn't be doing that or is it too early in the episode to tell

Poor Vinnie leave him alone :(

Yeah Pepper feels ooc here

This mustn't stand

Is this gonna be another "hating on the boys for whatever reason" episode

Penny Ling aphobic moment

This episode is already getting on my nerves and I'm only 3 minutes in oh geez oh no

A goat and a pig on a leash 💀

Russell looks like he wants to die

I thought Russell was gonna call it creepy

Oh god I don't like seeing that

"They call it writing ✨a letter✨"

Youngmee is best therapist

I hate this goat

Honestly Russell is doing god's work rn

Oh my god we got a reprise :0

BOOOOOOOO >:0

Russell has to deal with these dumbasses

I love their friendship it's beautiful

The record scratch 💀

Uh oh oh dear

We get it Hasbro he's the stupid one

Blythe is so confused

This acting is so bleh

Oh it's Sugar Sprinkles

This is actually pretty disturbing if you think about it for more than two seconds

Damn Russell is flying now

Russell sounds drunk

The pure terror she must be going through

Minka is canonically color blind

Russell stop talking like that I don't like it

Teleportation powers

I feel so bad for them 😭😭😭

I hate it I hate it so much

At least Zoe is saved from the A plot

Penny is literally screaming for her life I don't even know what to say to that

GO AWAAAAAYYYY SUGAR OH MY GOOODD

Was she just waiting for her moment

They're hiding now while the boys are literally doing this against their will

THEY'RE SCREAMING THEY'RE TERRIFIED I CAN'T-

"Aw, they're playing hard to get." Sftu

This is very painful I'm very sad

Did Sugar just call them touch-starved

Kinda funny but she's ignoring the fact this is not consensual in the slightest

Pepper looked like she was about to strangle Sugar Sprinkles for a second

Huh at least it didn't take much convincing

How did she even do that

Bruh don't thank her it was the barest of bare minimums that she could do

They have literally every right to be mad

I'm going to strangle this cat

And Sugar Sprinkles doesn't even learn some kind of lesson does she

Like how she shouldn't mind control people

Sugar Sugar Sugar come here I just want to talk okay I promise that's it

And they're still being creepy

I was expecting Russell to break the ukulele

He should've

Anyways if there's a fix-it fic of this episode somewhere I would love to see it

If it exists of course

Which it probably doesn't

[neodymiumcuilz]

Hello my friend, please help. We do not have money to buy food and drink. I have young children who do not know the taste of sleep because of the bitter cold caused by the rain. We do not have shelter. Our services are torn. Donate to me, even if it is a little. I ask you to help, my friend 🙏🙏😭

HELP A FAMILY IN 🍉🍉 - URGENT CALL TO ACTION.

My friends, we must not forget about Gaza, and the suffering there. We must not turn our backs or stay silent, we mustn't stop using our voices to speak out. If you are able to donate I urge you to please do so. The people of Gaza are still suffering greatly, even after the ceasefire. They are left amidst the rubble, displaced in tents, cold and unprotected from the weather. The cost of living is high, there is no money for education, food, water, medicine, clothes or shelter. They need our help to sustain better lives, and secure a better future. Help achieve a better living environment for people in Gaza.

The cost of living is in fact so high, that people have resorted to eating GRASS. And a simple bag of flour or loaf of bread can cost hundreds. Imagine yourself in a tent, unprotected from the elements, harsh cold, rain, hunger and sickness. No income for food, water or other basic needs. That is the reality for those in Gaza, who need our assistance amidst the darkness, be a shining light.

Please visit @nazmy27988 and support the account, interact with the posts, share the message, and story. Please use your account to amplify his voice, posts and spread awareness, don't be scared to speak for Palestinian families who need you, his link;

ONLY 3% OF DONATION GOAL REACHED. HOW ARE THEY MEANT TO SURVIVE? The best way to support a campaign is by donating, if you have many means of transferring money, any contribution will suffice.

“Hello, I am Nazmy I would like to take just two minutes of your time to share my story with you. I am Nazmy , I live under the constant bombing and aggression . Here we struggle with a life of death and constant loss. We lost the home we lived in, and were displaced more than 10 times from one place to another in search of safety. The truth is that there is no safe place, and we had many ambitions and hopes. I graduated from university and intended to travel, work, and many other things, but the war came and destroyed all of that. We also had a source of livelihood and clothing shops, which were completely destroyed by the occupation and turned into ashes, and we no longer have any final source of livelihood. We also faced difficulty in obtaining food and drinking water, and we suffered from many diseases such as hepatitis, gastroenteritis, and malnutrition due to the lack of a suitable environment for life. Here we live in hunger and fear."

Please help fellow human beings out. Don't ignore them, donate, speak up, free them. Do your part. Thank you for having humanity.

[snakegorl212006]

From the beginning 

“Don’t feel despair. He only did this for the sake of the kingdom,” Crowley said as he tried to comfort the crying prince/princess “it’s not fair. I never wish to marry” they sobbed “It’s for the sake of the kingdom. Think about this. Would you rather have your people suffer a once sided battle or live to see tomorrow” Crowley stated, which ceased their cries,sorting them into sniffles “what if I don't make it out alive… you’ve heard. The fae king is ruthless..” they stated as they glance at there reflection 

Viewing the scene as if I was a ghost myself only to be shocked by the sight of my own reflection staring back at me. My eyes red from crying as my skull tightens around my fragile brain. Then a knock was heard by the door “Your highness, it’s time to leave” a familiar voice spoke. Out of my control, my body moved as I went to the door to see a familiar face. Lilia? I question yet… he looked different. His hair was longer and had red highlights. In contrast of his warmer eyes, when this lilia glances at me it’s almost like he’s calling me pathetic. I couldn't even look at him. “Come, you mustn't keep the king waiting no longer” lilia spoke as he moved behind me, edging me out of my own room, guiding me away from my safe haven. Down thousands of stairs and through unfamiliar halls, we reached the throne room where the king sat. my eyes glued to the floor as he gave lilia his blessing to whisk me away. A stray tear fell on the floor as lilia took me by the hand leading me to a carriage. The ride was long and silent, only feeling the hard glares though the back of my head. I ignored this feeling and glanced up out the window just in time to see the sensory changing from once luscious forest, to dark bark, and gloomy skies. I found this odd for we were overseas. Perhaps magic did exist some time ago. There in the distance was a familiar sight. Diasomnia wing… was it always this big. My eyes glance in awe as my jaw slacks a little. No way… this was the castle in all of it’s glory. The

carriage rode up the hill and reached the entrance where more guards were waiting. Lila tisk “I told him i don’t need any extras.” he huffed “Our king only wished for the Prince/Princess safe arrival. To him this is necessary” the guard replied. Lilia rolled his eyes “move” he whispered as we continued walking through the gates. Unlike the property I once knew, the only building around was the giant castle right in front of us. It looks no different than the same building which stands today during my time. My heart pounds loud like a drum. Each step I took, that thumping grew louder. Walking though dim lit halls to an unfamiliar room. a large throne is what stood before me. This wasn't here before..or at least in my time. There in the middle on the throne sat a familiar figure. Lavish robes cover his body and a large silver crown decorated his horns. Familiar green eyes pierced down at me almost like a casting shadow.so that was malleus. My vision grew blurry as a wave of dizziness washed over,covering me in cold sweat. Before i knew what was happening, I was falling to the floor. “I should apologize my lord, humans are fragile creatures.” Lilia said as he carried the sleeping prince/princess. "I hold nothing against them.” malleus replies “make sure they are well. It must be a long journey for them. We will discuss arrangements when they awake.” Malleus spoke with a soft smile plastered on his face

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

===========Kalim Forgot(short fic)=====================

Kalim looks particularly frustrated today. Of Course a angry ghost is the worst thing ever, so I decided to investigate the problem. I head over where kalim is sulking with his cheeks all puffed up “kalim. What is the matter” I asked. He turns around and lights up. Kalim made a attempt to grab my shoulders but phazes right through me falling to and through the ground. Weird… “y/n have you seen kalim? I came to bring him some food” Jamil asked “I thing he phazed though the ground. He might be on the second floor” I replied which made him sigh and mumbled “not again”. I was going to ask what he meant but I have errands to do Later on I returned to Scarabia to check on Kalim only to be tackled by the man “FINALLY. CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW” Kalim yells making my head spin “loud and clear..”i mumbled “oh sorry. You’ve just been ignoring me I thought i did something wrong” Kalim explains “could it be because you were invisible” I explained, which made him think. His face flushed up somewhat embarrassed as he covers his face “right..” he laughs as he scratched the back of his head “I forgot”

[random-introverted-blog]

His Star - His Queen [Chapter 6 - Your Eyes–My Mirror

He'd recognize that pain anywhere...

Summary:Astarion has been busy the last eleven days of your time in the palace. Just what has your vampire been up to? Ladies and gentleman… Meet (most) of The Resistance.

Link to the Tumblr Chapter Index

Warning/Advisories: Angst? Thoughts of violence/aggression? Don't think this chapter has anything to warn about, to be honest...

A/N: Surprise update! This chapter took way longer than I expected and I apologize for that. Here's hoping it was worth the wait and that we'll be leveling out the update frequency...

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

"Watch your step, kid," Said Aric as they wandered deeper into the dank cave. Cracks in the rock ceiling provided light from the setting sun, but Astarion noted the makeshift sconces along the walls for torches for when it became too dark.

They had traveled some distance from Baldur's Gate, which isn't terribly surprising. He had been visiting this world for a full tenday and it became rapidly apparent the grip his Ascendant self had on the city.

Nor was this his first time visiting their secret base of operations. Astarion had become quite acquainted with the ragtag team, not so unlike the one you had put together back home. However, they had organized a... much larger force.

Aric wiped his palm on his dark green tunic and pressed it into the hidden, inconspicuous crack in the rock wall of the natural hallway they found themselves in. The stone shimmered subtly and then the tiefling passed through it, with Astarion close behind.

It was only after they passed the shabby wooden door and the armed guards beyond that they descended the rickety stairs and entered the bustling city. Aric told him only the families that were no longer truly safe in the Gate were permitted to stay down here. It benefitted the resistance that its fighters could trust that their loved ones were safe, and that the talents of so many were readily available if the need arose.

Plenty of smith's, wizards and carpenters had helped in fortifying this place, and its expansion in the Underdark. With the fruitful, silent raids of supplies from the palace, they had no actual concern for food.

But time was running out. The Godking had become weary of what had been futile efforts. Where once they were an amusement, they had become an unwelcome distraction in recent years.

The pair made their way through the midday crowd and past more guards. Finding better armed ones at the top of a wooden platform. As they neared the top of the stairs, the guards, showing respect for Aric, nodded and opened the path for them.

Aric nodded back, continuing their journey to the war room.

As they approach the door, the vampire's keen ears pick up on the distinct sounds of bickering growing louder. The Dwarven man scowled down at the Elven man, whose hair shimmered like molten gold across the table - while the dragonborn couple, a harmonious though typical gold and silver pair, watched in silent irritation. "Had your people not drawn so much attention, we could have planted more than one mole in that wretched hellhole!" The Elven man glowers, gesturing wildly over the extensive map, dominating the entire length of the table.

Ignoring the criticism, the dwarf lets out a dismissive grunt. "The people needed a reminder that the resistance not only stands, but thrives. Despite the Godking's insistence to the contrary. I do not regret my decision to assault the factory."

"Understandable as it may be to maintain public morale and faith in the resistance, we mustn't forget the present risk. Now is not the opportune moment to invite the Godking's wrath." The female dragonborn commented, folding her large gold arms over her chest.

"We must choose our every step with great care and consideration for the time being. Caladhel's informants are spread thin with many of them either going to ground or being finessed out by Ballar and his minions." She concluded, amber eyes fixed on a particular figure on the map of the city before them.

The silver dragonborn, a towering figure, joined his partner and pointed a claw at the figure in question. "The Noctis have been diligently purging their ranks for months, leaving no doubt that they are preparing for something significant," he stated, his piercing pale blue eyes fixated on the map. As he withdrew his hand, the sound of his scales scraping against each other filled the room. "With the palace now rejecting maidens as tithes, our top priority is to confirm our suspicions. Pyrastra is right, Durgan. The assault on the factory was a reckless move,"

Annoyed, Durgan, the dwarf, sighed heavily. "Aye, and what of Jester? Has he not provided anything of value yet? Is the tiefling girl not in direct contact with him?"

Caladhel shakes his head, his lips pressed into a thin line of discontent. "Jester has been out in the field, coordinating the few remaining informants and our agents. He hasn't been down here himself in a month." He says, looking toward Aric and Astarion.

"He mentioned in a missive to me he had news to report from Elowen and he would be here for the meeting." The Grey skinned tiefling added simply.

"How is our little Winnie?" Pyrastra asks, her voice filled with sincerity.

"Alive and safe for now, but he did not say more."

"Well, allow me to rectify that and speak for myself." A nasally voice spoke from behind them, the words resolute in tone.

When Astarion and Aric turned to face the voice, the vampire nearly fell over at the sight of the small statured... creature of nuisance and bother. Swiftly he pushed his way past their legs and strode to the table with a confidence the runty little rodent had that left Astarion baffled by the audacity.

Grabbing hold of a stool that was conveniently tucked away beneath the table, and skillfully climbed onto it to overcome the height obstacle. Astarion followed Aric into the room to stand beside Caladhel as the gnome spoke. "Let's cut to the quick, shall we?" He said from under his black cloak, worn and nicked black dyed leather glinting in the orange glow of the bright torchlight. "Elowen has spotted Malacai."

"By Moradin's Beard..." Durgan gasped, his eyes widening, his calloused hand instinctively reaching up to stroke his thick, dark brown beard as his gaze fell to the map, but his thoughts were clearly elsewhere.

Caladhel's head shook once more, his hand instinctively reaching for the bridge of his nose, as if trying to block out the world around him. "Silvanus preserve us..."

"So it's true then." The silver dragonborn timbre mellow, somber. "He's found one."

With a single shake of his head, Jester emphasized, "Not just anyone, Glacius. Elowen says he's found Her. Another one, by appearances, an exact copy." His grey eyes slowly moved along to the others at the table.

Caladhel cleared his throat and adjusted the furs of his hide armor before smoothing the feathers on his shoulders. His gaze found Durgan, sharp and piercing as an eagle's, brimming with the silent storm of emotion that threatened to overflow. "How about it, then? Should I tell my wife we may have a crisis on our hands? One we know next to nothing about in exchange for public clout?" His eyes piercing, accusing.

"Enough. Bickering like star-crossed magpies isn't going to change a thing. Nariel will be informed once she returns from her venture into the Underdark with the other druids." Pyrastra orders sternly, extending her hands out to either side of the table before returning her attention to Jester. "The Festival of Gratitude begins in earnest soon, and Godking Ancunín will give the address this year. I believe we now all understand why." She narrows her eyes as they fall on Aric and Astarion.

The tiefling sweeps a low hum from his throat, locking his fingers together out of sight. "What's the plan for sneaking me and the newbie into the grand hall? It's off-limits to everyone this time around, with that arrogant prick gracing the world with his presence."

"My agents and I will get us inside, no problem. And from what I've heard from the time lords--"

"Priests."

"Whatever," Jester and Aric bicker briefly before the former scoffs in annoyance. "Your new guy has a connection to the blushing bride-to-be. If he can get close, perhaps she can be swayed to help us."

Durgan's gaze pierces through the space between them, sharp and unforgiving, as his eyes fixate on the gnome with an intensity that's almost tangible. "The last one, you know, had a gentle heart," he sneers, the words dripping with a mix of disdain and melancholy, "but she was like a whisper in a storm to her husband—fleeting and without strength. What's to say this one won't dissolve into the shadows just the same?"

Jester shrugs one shoulder indifferently. "Elowen was picked as one of her personal servants. She says the queen has a conscious still. Her spirit remains untamed, unshattered by the icy grasp of her betrothed. There's a chance, a sliver of light in the dark, that we might still reach her, rouse her to our cause before he ensnares her in his facsimile of love."

Despite the overwhelming urge to lash out, Astarion resisted the impulse to unleash his anger on the group. Illyndra had made it clear during his last visit to the Precipice - or whatever that place is called - that these imbeciles were his best and only chance to confront the Ascendant and ensure your safety. So much so that he had revealed to them his connection to you... Not who he is, precisely.

When he disclosed his knowledge of the Ascendant's plan to make you his queen, it triggered a contentious argument, and they stubbornly refused to believe him. "Are you all done squabbling? Or must we continue wasting time on petty, pathetic rivalries?" He interjected with palpable frustration.

The tiefling set a hand on his the shoulder of Astarion's spidersilk armor. "I'm with the new elf. The sooner we get ourselves in there, the sooner we can hopefully get in contact with Elowen and maybe even the consort. We need to establish our presence in the palace yesterday."

Yet another reminder of what you were caused Astarion to tense up. What that arrogant dictator desired you to become. Before, when they didn't believe him, he could quiet his mind. Now it's being carelessly shoved into his face. It was inescapable. The Ascendant could be inflicting any number of nightmares upon you, and all Astarion could do was sit here and wait.

Finally, it seemed it was time to act. With a round of silent nods around the table, the resistance leaders established a silent understanding. Your vampire could scarcely believe he was happily following a gnome, of all pests, out of the meeting, his senses heightened by the sound of the gnome's tiny footsteps.

But he was desperate. The vision of your face felt like a distant dream, fading away like the soft hues of a setting sun. The touch of your soft skin, a memory he clung to desperately, even as it slipped further through his fingers. Your laughter echoed in his mind, filling him with a melancholic harmony that felt both familiar and distant.

Gods, when did his heart become so... saccharine? At the very least, he had to see you, even if just for a moment.

And he knew you needed to see him.

You needed to know your star still burned bright with fiery intensity rivaling the depths of the night, promising to light your way back home.

‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐

Jester remained true to his word. With a brief detour to the cavern's warehouse to procure appropriate clothing, the trio continued on their way to the palace. "It's doubtful she'll be unattended, and they'll likely have orders to ensure it stays that way." The gnome prattled on as they approached the grand doors, his words accompanied by the distant hum of festive commotion.

Astarion observed the vibrant array of stalls, their vendors enthusiastically peddling their wares and services, their voices mingling with the ambient noise. The aroma of various goods wafted through the air, enticing passersby. The guards, preoccupied with their duties, fussed over a fenced-in patch of dirt nearby. Servants meticulously hung colorful banners along the length of a wooden fence, their nimble fingers adding a splash of color to the surroundings. The jeweler and book merchant deliberately positioned themselves, basking in the warm rays of the setting sun, their merchandise glinting with promise.

The trio adhered to their plan, with Astarion and Aric silently positioning themselves behind their well-dressed gnome companion. The guards diligently checked all three of them for weapons, and only then did they allow them to pass through the doors.

It was just as extravagant as he had anticipated from the Ascendant. Intriguingly, the walls in the entrance hall were white and floors a glossy marble that seemed to amplify the echo of their every footstep. The layout evoked strong similarities to Moonrise tower for the vampire spawn. Was that intentional? If so, for what purpose?

Portraits of the Ascendant adorned the walls, but there were noticeable breaks in the arrangement, suggesting that certain ones had been intentionally removed. Naturally, the other portraits were impeccably crafted and clearly indicative of their exorbitant value. Anything to show off all of his wealth, it seems.

They climbed the short set of stairs and entered the larger, incredibly high ceiling grand hall. Upon ascending the short set of stairs and entering the grand hall, they were greeted by the sight of several large, ornate chandeliers hanging from the sky-high ceiling. In the hall, the walls were lined with large stained and mosaic windows, allowing the orange glow of the fading sun to stream in. From afar, he could see a dais displaying a pair of thrones positioned side by side.

At the front of the elevated platform, his gaze sweeping across the assembly with an air of detachment, even boredom, stood The Ascendant. No guards positioned themselves at the foot of the majestic staircase leading to the thrones, and no soul dared venture near him. His regal stature exuded an arrogance that demanded unwavering awe and reverence from all who beheld him, as if his presence alone was a bestowed privilege they were undeserving of.

Your vampire had to consciously refrain from baring his fangs, seeing this imitation again.

Jester's eyes roam the room as he utters, "First things first, we need to find Lady Morningstar," absentmindedly scratching his reddish copper hair.

"Truly? She's so bold as to show her face this festival?" Aric queries in mild disbelief.

"That's what the rats are chittering." Jester answers discreetly. The tiefling is now scouring the crowd as well. But the fellow rogue doesn't forget to look over his shoulder at their Elven compatriot. "Morningstar is a small, blue-eyed, golden-haired floozy. You can't miss her. It's like the girl was sculpted into temptation incarnate."

Just as Astarion is about to say something, his eyes are captivated by a familiar shade of hair. Though styled into soft waves, it wasn't too different from what he knew. Escorted along by a tall, pale human man with black hair and piercing red eyes, holding his chin up with confidence. "Jester," Aric calls, his voice a barely audible hiss.

"I see him." The gnome replies softly, much calmer and barely audible over the hushed murmurs of the crowd, as other heads turn discreetly in the direction of the man... and the woman hidden beside him. Jester's murmur of the name "Malacai..." barely reaches Astarion's ears, as his focus became transfixed by the sight of a mesmerizing, flowing blue dress. And before he fully knows it... there you are.

The Ascendant has taken your hand, pulling you gently into him, and the way he smiles at you sickens him. Astarion took note now of the choice of clothing. His doppelgänger wore a white outfit with shades of blue along the trim and seams of the fabric. And your dress was embroidered with silvery white leafs and spirals along the shoulders and neckline. Intentionally done to complement the others ensemble. Show the world how you and he complement each other.

"All silence for the Godking's address!" A voice louder than a thousand trumpets commands.

Obediently, the crowd hushes, and a blanket of silence descends. You could hear a pin drop, as not even a throat cleared while the Ascendant studied his audience... and you did the same. Granting Astarion the opportunity to see you for the first time in over a tenday.

From what he could tell, you looked physically well, if nothing else. You stood at your full height, no visible weight change or marks on your skin... But something was different. Changed.

Dimmer.

"May you find yourselves gratified by the announcement and esteemed company of my betrothed! My queen-to-be, in her resplendent grace!" The Ascendant declared with power and pride. Evoking to Astarion the scene of a warmonger claiming tribute of his conquest. Jealousy he struggled to contain grew stronger as he witnessed the Ascendant slip an arm around your waist, pulling you snugly against his side, while the blaring trumpets added insult to injury, declaring a premature victory.

If his heart could still beat, it would have fractured and split wide open down the middle. He knew this was coming, and he trusted your feelings, but hells, how it still stung. What manner of fool was he? This engagement would ultimately be meaningless, after all. So why did it still gnaw at him?

Even from here, your vampire noticed the way your face contorted with unease. You were performing admirably at maintaining your composure. If he were anyone else, he'd have been convinced by the smile on your face that you were content, if you were even aware of it yourself. But he had the unfortunate insight of knowing you all too well. Better than the Ascendant wished he did, dreamt he ever would.

Astarion silently feared the moment when your eyes would meet his. You were putting on a strong front, from what he could see. He had to do the same. For you. For himself. For the future you hope to share.

The Ascendant turned to look at you and just like when Astarion and you first encountered him, your vampire recognized that same repulsive mockery of love that could barely be compared to Astarion's feelings for you. Devoted, of course. But gods... you were a beloved, disturbing obsession for him, one that he would control, manipulate, and sequester to suit his every desire. That any version of Astarion would ever see you this way could ignite his icy skin to ash.

The kiss he stole from the both of you, that you mirrored, if only to maintain your act. Astarion knew this was what you had to do to survive, and he didn't hold it against you. But...

He kept a close watch as the Ascendant guided you toward the overly ornate chairs behind the two of you, and didn't fail to notice the valiant way you attempt to hold your ground. Or how you resisted his effort to seat you in the left one, that you found yourself seated, regardless. What caught him by surprise was the subtle way your foot stiffened and pressed against the base of the throne.

Out of nowhere, a warm hand settled on his shoulder. "Focus, we're not getting to her tonight."

With a disdainful expression, Astarion forcefully shrugged off the hand on his shoulder, his eyes locked in a piercing stare with the tiefling. No matter how right he knew Aric was, his frustration remained relentless.

"Is this the one?" A different voice spoke up, weaving through the crowd and accompanied by the gnome. Aric let out a heartfelt sigh before enveloping her in a warm embrace.

"Elowen, my dear girl," he said, his voice filled with tenderness, "Are you well?" As he gently took her shoulders.

The young woman smile and nodded, reassuring her father, "Don't worry, papa, I'm well. They take care of the staff. How's Asha?" Elowen questioned next, with her own worried tone.

Aric smiled, his eyes crinkling with happiness, and embraced her again. "She misses her sister, but she is in good spirits." He says as he separates fully and steps back. "What have you learned? Jester says you were handpicked by our new queen."

"Queen-to-be," Elowen corrects, adjusting her servant outfit. The typical black ensemble with a white apron.

"But yes," she continues, her words measured and careful. "I have seen little of her, though I can sense compassion when I do. The Godking doesn't see us more than tools or things, existing solely to fulfill their every whim. He has been relentless in his efforts to instill the same mindset in her."

Leaning closer, her voice barely above a whisper, Elowen presses on with what information she has gathered thus far. "Master Ancunín keeps her confined in the northwest wing of the palace. It's a place shrouded in secrecy. Only certain members of staff are allowed access." She explains carefully, discreetly.

Jester crosses his arms, his brow furrowing as he hums thoughtfully, the sound vibrating softly in the air. "If what you say is true," he begins, his voice carrying a hint of skepticism, "that she is resisting his influence and still holds empathy, then perhaps establishing a direct line of communication would be beneficial." He glances around, his gaze flickering between the three taller individuals in their group. "Denying her access to the outside world will weigh heavily on her, I'm sure," he continues, his words tinged with concern. "But if we can ensure she knows we exist, if we can provide a link to life beyond the confines of the palace walls, well, having a sovereign on our side would undoubtedly make a significant impact."

Astarion's eyes narrowed as he resisted the impulse to wrap his fingers around the gnome's scrawny, useless neck. "We need to get her out of here." Is all he trusted himself to say without exploding in rage.

Elowen furrowed her brows, a deep frown etched on her face. "She's under near constant watch from Malacai and the other servants," she explained, her voice tinged with unease. As she spoke, the ambient sounds of chatter among the nobility blended with their own conversation, providing a natural blanket of discretion to their words. The air carried a faint scent of heady and delicate perfumes, mingling with the underlying aroma of extravagance and luxury. Elowen continued, her voice tinged with a hint of resignation, "Reaching her at all means you would have navigated deep within the palace. The northwest wing is one of the furthest from here..."

"The tourney." Aric speaks suddenly, glancing between Astarion, Elowen and Jester. "If one of us enters and wins the tourney—"

Jester's sharp look cuts him off mid-sentence, shutting him down. "And what? Wish for him to hand over his shiny new princess? Even if you simply asked to see her, and even if he allowed it, he will be there watching everything. What purpose would it serve?"

Calmly, Aric waited and listened for his companion to finish his rant before continuing. "A wish granted by his divine Majesty himself could have many uses. Wouldn't you agree, old friend?" He explains slowly, calmly.

The shorter man's glare intensified, his hands balling into tight fists, his arms stubbornly crossed, until he begrudgingly looked away with a grunt. "In the meantime, let Elowen smuggle in the sending stone to the queen-to-be." Reaching into his pocket and holding the stone to the young tiefling girl.

She nods, her face calm and composed, and accepts it from him without a second thought. "Rest assured, I will make certain that she receives it." Then she turns to Astarion. "Jest' mentioned you and her know each other. That you're close."

It was unexpected for her to address the vampire knowingly like this, but he still managed to nod in response. She flashes him a sympathetic smile, her eyes glancing over her shoulder towards the throne, and Astarion follows suit. There you were. Seated on a throne that he would ordinarily find fitting for how he saw you. You deserved more than he could give you... You deserved to have the world laid at your feet, with all its wonders and possibilities.

But as he looked upon you now, he was unsurprised to see how you hated it. Just as he knew you would. You craved simple pleasures, the irony of which provided no small amount of amusement when considered his own... complications.

What was curious, though, was the Ascendant had said something, and your leg visibly jolted, but your foot did not. The one he saw fasten itself to the throne, as if it belonged there all along. Your right foot, he now noted. Then the Ascendant's lips moved, speaking to you again, and you ceased. Resigning yourself to recline into the throne, your one hand clasped in the Ascendant's gentle grip while your other hand lightly traced the fabric of your dress with your nails.

"She's tougher than she looks, even now. I know he did... something last night. But despite that, she's holding on. Maybe it's you she's clinging to." Elowen speaks, a glimmer of hope coloring her voice.

Before Astarion could even shape his lips around the question, a stirring of worry clenched his heart. Until your bored eyes - dancing aimlessly through the sea of people, yours finally landed on his.

It was like his heart stopped beating all over again.

He could see the hesitancy in you, a furrowed brow and a slight frown as you hesitated to trust what you were seeing, hearing, and feeling. As he found himself lost in your eyes, his world crumbled around him. It was a pain that he could instantly identify in others. That he found it in yours could ignite a storm of emotions in him, ranging from rage to sorrow.

The monster had hurt you... with his hands. His body.

But you must know it wasn't Him, right? He, your vampire, was guilty of many things... But he would never... subject you to that.

"Her suffering is inevitable now, and it will be plentiful in supply."

Why he found himself praying, Astarion could only guess. The gods had remained silent and indifferent last time. Yet, there he was, silently pleading words he scarcely believed could make a difference. He tried, though, really tried, because maybe, just maybe, this time, they would. For your sake.

Please let this be the end of your supplied suffering...

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

A/N: What will be, what will be...

[thenixkat]

[id: A three-panel sequence from the Pokemon manga featuring a conversation between Wicke, Faba, Moon, Professor Kukui, and Professor Burnet. Faba and Wicke are in the first two upper panels. Moon and the professors are in the last panel.

Wicke: It was most likely hurt by Team Skull, because, well...

Wicke: This year there have been 45 cases of them abusing pokemon...

Faba: Assistant branch chief Wicke, you mustn't jump to conclusions. There have been more cases than usual, though.

Moon: Is that true?

Faba: Yes. Twenty-nine cases of assault... eleven destructions of habitat... and 5 cases of being sold as food. But there may be more considering how some cases are ignored or left unreported. /end id]

Ok so say we take the listed crimes of manga Team Skull with a grain of salt since, the pokemon manga really likes to make things more violent to a degree that feels cartoonish to me. And we cross out the shit that we know they do b/c the Aether Foundation/Lusamine pays them to do in searching for 'what does anime Team Skull do to pay the bills'.

So we have to cross out habitat destruction and pokemon abuse b/c we know that the Aether Foundation pays Team Skull to fuck shit up and harm pokemon in a way that means that the Aether Foundation can confiscate and rehabilitate those pokemon.

Only crossing out the assault b/c the assault isn't tied to robbery. It's fairly reasonable to assume that Team Skull does some assaults. That they're ready and willing to start shit with people that piss them off for one reason or another. And I think it is especially reasonable to belive that Guzma beats the fuck out of people that piss him off outside of pokemon battles. He's a violent dude with a violent temper and we know he's willing to lay his actual hands on someone and especially hates when people give his crew a hard time.

(I don't think it'd be shit to the extent of what he does in the manga, like the manga version of Guzma doesn't seem to care about his grunts and is willing to be violent towards them when the other versions of the character don't come across that way. And also I'm not willing to belive a ref in any other iteration of the franchise outside of the manga would let him whole ass break his opponent's arm/having his pokemon attack the other trainer and let that slide over ending the fight and declaring him the loser)

Now the selling pokemon as food, and I have to assume its poaching and selling protected pokemon as food or illegally harvesting things from places that's its illegal to or selling a person's stolen pokemon as food, rather than just selling pokemon as food in general. B/c people do eat pokemon, there would be people raising, harvesting, or selling pokemon as food.

And poaching would be something they could profit off of and we do see the grunts illegally harvest pokemon in the anime. Not to any success but we do see it.

Another money-making thing we see Team Skull do in the manga that isn't related to the Aether Foundation is run food carts/sell food. (Which is neat b/c manga!Guzma seems to be able to cook and care about making good/quality food)

So of the things just on hand for potential possible ways anime Team Skull are financially supporting themselves we have: battling (off-screen from Plumeria and Guzma), running food carts/selling food, poaching, and illegally selling pokemon as food.

[datastate]

as we all know, michiru sees herself as a savior and this is because she is living a life she should not (heart defects as a child, her brother was stillborn) and has thus been blessed with promise and mustn't waste it after having brushed death repeatedly in her youth. even in her self of today she is surrounded by death on all sides, and the only way to keep her motivation to harness this greater world untouched is that she must ensure these deaths are worth something. that is the purpose of her work. she acknowledges death as a cruel given in the world and honors life in the only way she is able to comprehend: to give it meaning as it passes, and the purpose of her very existence is to spite death again and again.

she strives forward with the hope of using her blessing to create a world where people will never die, for she has seen the ripples of grief on the psyche of those she loves; the fear in her parents unable to let her go for the longest time. but she has never been able to see this for what it is, as she has lived most of her life restrained only by modern ethics -- even those released her when she joined asunaro.

those such as the satous and emiri understand its threat clearly, where michiru and hiyori hold ignorance. asunaro can and will take full advantage of it, twist one's personhood and memories by way of manipulation. any hope that may exist in someone persisting past death will be dashed when they are inevitably transformed into a weapon hooked on another's emotions. only those who have already been manipulated by asunaro, made its victims, would realize the full extent of this.

yet they didn't interfere. no one did. emiri and gashu let it be because they've lost hope in the first place, diving in to using it to their advantage to justify cynicism surrounding the matters of the world; and kai because he never knew the weight of it until the chidouins tore through the numbness he enforced on himself.

which is tragic, really, because it was these grand designs of michiru's, this ambition, which let asunaro believe she is worthy. if kai breaks down her dream, he will have not only sentenced her to die, but betrayed her in full. there is no manner in which she will understand, though. she has never had to question what would happen if she lost control of the life she lived. she has seen it, she knows of it in her rational mind, but any threat on her life is eclipsed with the insistence that she must finish her work before she is killed. and it is this which has asunaro keep her alive, until she works herself into the grave, and then they resuscitate her with the very artificial program she had made. and kai must betray it, as well.