#VITAL CHOICES AS I SAID-

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

chaoszonenate: sir-yeehaw-paws

[thedreadvampy]

so to recap we're going for eyelets to lace the sleeves on

I've settled on CIS DYKES FOR TRANS RIGHTS as the thing to paint on the back and I think I'm gonna see if I can find some rainbow, trans and bi flag pattern ribbon to frame that and I might put some spikes on there too depending on if I think it'll make my backpack uncomfortable

I have several patch ideas for the front and sleeves including

MORE LIFE embroidered in white over an applique red ribbon

QUEER AS IN FUCK YOUR BORDERS embroidered quite big over a bleach painting background of a swallow breaking through barbed wire

FUCK THE FUCKING TORIES obviously

black patch. small white bird flying at the top. At the bottom, in small lowercase, I THINK I'LL CARRY ON

Bi SCUM flag based on a design @lifetheuniverseandnothing did a while back

My classic rainbow FUCK

Stylised cunt overlaid with the words EAT OUT TO HELP OUT

I am toying with some ideas about a removable spiked pauldron, and planning on attaching some miscellaneous D rings bc miscellaneous D rings are nice to have. Also gonna run a chain across the back and probably a couple across the chest, and spikes on the chest pockets. I think I would also like to write things on the sleeves and cuffs.

if I have time around cooking dinner tonight I wanna mark out and pierce the spots for the eyelets (haven't got enough to actually eyelet them yet), cut the arms off, and make a start on the bleach painting. things like the studding, chains, D rings and patches are all long term stuff but it would be nice to get a bit stuck in while I'm hyped up.

[realnielsbohr]

oh neva flows/still reprise we're in it now

[sugar-grigri]

How about an analysis of Dunmeshi's latest episode?

What I find really interesting, and episode 17 made me realize it, is the extent to which Laios and Shuro are the opposite of what they portray, even worse: the image they might portray is actually that of the other.

Let me explain :

How does Shuro see Laios ? As someone stubborn and thoughtless, disconnected from reality to the point of using black magic to resurrect his little sister.

We know that Shuro would have made the same choice, which shows that even if he tries to deny it, there is a point of connection between them.

The key to these similarities and differences is Falin.

What Shuro loves about Falin is the tenderness in her every gesture, her compassion and understanding of every creature, and her smile.

When he sees this monster kill in cold blood, he realizes the extent to which he has lost his loved one, which is why he chooses to kill her to free his soul, thinking he has lost her.

But what Shuro doesn't realize is that he's exactly what he's blaming Laios for: he's stubborn and reckless, not realizing the danger and sacrifices his teammates are making for the sake of this mission.

He's also disconnected from reality, not caring about himself, his hunger or his fatigue.

Above all, and this is very interesting, Laios had said that he hadn't perceived that Shuro couldn't stand him because he was so happy to have him as a friend, that he hadn't detected any of these signals.

Shuro shares this blindness

Shuro repeats that this monster is not Falin, yet he sees her as such, to the point of embarrassment when the monster removes her blouse.

And that's the opposite of Laios, who sees his sister as the monster she is

Like the chimera Falin has become, he sees his little sister calling him and this super-cool monster.

He's the one with his feet firmly on the ground, he's the one who really cares about his team, taking care of himself and those around him through balanced meals.

The one who understands that Falin has many vital points, rather than allowing himself to be overwhelmed by despair, is Laios.

So when Shuro hits Laios, in reality he's not hitting a man who differs from him, he's hitting his own flaws, and his own failure in the situation.

This failure he projects onto Laios, a man brimming with flaws.

Not only does Laios reason with him, but if Shuro ends up taking the wiser path, it's also because he's literally fought against himself.

But it all goes even further!

Shuro realized his feelings, or rather how unique Falin was in her tenderness and altruism, towards every being, even the smallest.

But what set this whole cycle in motion was Falin's self-sacrifice, her own death.

Laios and Marcille are responsible for what follows, but they are not responsible for everything, as Shuro tries to believe.

Shuro refuses the truth

So he doesn't see Falin

He couldn't accept that her tenderness had led to his death

Nor that her tenderness gave way to extreme coldness and indifference

He won't accept his own blindness

So he hits Laios and his extreme sincerity that irritates him so much

Shuro can't see anything in the darkness of this dungeon, he's the one who's lost his footing so he has to get back up again

Laios has accepted to see everything, even the unavowable, the forbidden, the pain.

What Shuro sees in Falin is love

In Laios, what he sees is the truth

In reality, Laios has only told part of the truth; he is the other half.

But if he goes back up, it's not to abandon Falin, Shuro has to face reality, the truth, that Laios was the only one who could save his beloved. It was by fighting that he finally put his trust in Laios. And finally became a friend

[l0vergirls]

munchausen syndrome by proxy.

romantic yan!batfam <3

as requested by anon:

the symptoms start showing slowly in the form of fatigue, common headaches, and dizziness. as time passed, it got worse and worse, which left you bedridden.

it was tough to get used to, but you held onto the hope that it'll be gone in a couple weeks, just as bruce said.

during this time, they coddled you to no end.

dick often visited you with a hot meal in his hands, which he'd insisted on feeding to you even though you've proven you could do it yourself.

no use straining yourself with extra work, he said.

you could accept that he was a caretaker at heart, but it felt a bit much when he would run his fingers through your hair, whispering words of consolation.

tim was usually the one giving you your doses, as well as bruce. there was no reason to suspect him, after all, with his skittish grin and slightly awkward demeanor. sometimes, he would bring a handheld console with him to ease your boredom. you favored him slightly more than the others because of that.

jason visited you the least and when he would, he had an unreadable expression written all over his face. he wasn't bad company; conversations with him were always fluid and enjoyable, which was why you wondered why he seldom visited you when you were stuck in that room. you didn't hold it against him— you couldn't, for some reason.

damian liked visiting you, though if you didn't know him as well as you did, you couldn't exactly tell. you've learned to look at the most miniscule of his habits to read him. the most obvious one would be how his shoulders would slightly relax around you.

bruce was by your side most often, believe it or not. whether it be giving you your medicine, or just to spend the night sleeping on the chair whilst he holds you hand. he constantly reassured you that you'd be better in no time; not that you had any other choice but to believe him.

when the couple weeks are up, you've felt an improvement. that is until you suddenly feel like fainting after a shower.

you didn't— but the boys would rather not take a risk, so why not just stay here a bit longer? that way, they can monitor your vitals, and give you just what you need!

you're free to roam around the mansion, just don't push yourself too hard lest you want to find yourself back in that room.

and if you suddenly feel suffocated, so hopeless in that place, fearing that you may never get better? fret not, someone's always there to wipe your tears, hold you tenderly in his arms, and kiss away your sorrows.

do i think that jason would feel very guilty basically having a hand in taking away your autonomy? yes . will i elaborate on this? let me get back to you on that .......

[bone-and-butterflies]

How to hide plot twists from both your readers and your characters in a way that is not frustrating or annoying.

So I was watching a book review for a book that I liked but both loved and hated some of the plot twists. Of course this got me thinking about plot twists and why they work for both readers and the characters that are falling for these plot twists.

Readers

The key is to control the information that your readers have. Your readers aren't going to consider an option unless (1) that twist is really common for your genre and that reader has read that genre a lot and will therefore be expecting it or (2) you have very obviously given them the specific information nessesary to unintentionally figure out the twist before the characters.

Why does this information stand out, you may be wondering. It is because there is nothing else going on to distract away from a piece of information that can seem meaningless with the right context.

Most of the time, if you're not writing a very specific plot line with a very specific genre, your reader isn't going to immediately know where the plot is going so they may not be looking out for the information relevant to a later plot twist, so as long as you justify an informational choice that explains a later plot twist in a way that covers a variety of basis, they're probably not going to pick up on the one piece you left out, aka what is going to make this twist fun.

This piece of information should be something small and unassuming. It can be magical, but if you're writing fantasy that magic has to be hidden really really well. I find that a plot twist works the best when the piece of information that is missing is something you wouldn't really think about, like the reason a prince was able to infiltrate a prison and hide his identity was because he had his cousin standing in for him and we don't know that this cousin existed and knew the limits of that world's magic (this is actually a plot twist that fooled me btw despite how obvious at sounds now).

A good plot twist that fools the reader relies on twisting the information that the reader has and therefore twisting how they think the story will go.

Midway sidenote: not every plot twist needs to exist to fool both the reader and the character, sometimes it is really fun to watch a character fail because of something inherent to that character.

Characters

Remember how I said sometimes it's really fun to watch a character fail. That only works sometimes.

It is more annoying to figure out a plot twist that is really obvious and then have the character miss it because the author said so.

So how does a writer pull this off?

Be intentional. Have an idea in mind of when you want the reader to figure it out and ask your beta readers when they figured out your plot twists to control that as much as you can.

Your character does not know which genre they're in, so you have to both get inside the character's head and take the reader along with you so they understand why this character is making these poor choices and missing the most obvious villain in the room.

Why would a character miss a plot twist?

They are distracted or delusional. Characters have goals and they may ignore their better judgments to achieve these goals based on their personality. Put more emphasis on your character's motives to hide information that may make plot twists more obvious. Also, your characters may use information about their world to explain their motives and this information may also be vital to understanding a later plot twist

The average person does not go around thinking everybody around them is out to get them especially if those people seem incapable of that through the pov character's ego or the other character's demeanor. If your character has known somebody for a really long time or knows a piece of information that is vital to the worldview they're probably not going to immediately discard it. Fun fact: in the real world, when people have their views disputed, even with very good evidence, it can make them more likely to hold on to that old belief.

Expectation of harm. Different characters have different experiences with shape how bad they think things can get. For example, if a character has never experienced something, they may not know what can lead to that thing. (FYI older characters are more likely to know more things so be careful with this one.)

The Twist

For a twist to work, it must make sense with both real world and in world knowledge as well as common sense, so keep this in mind as you plan.

Conclusion

This isn't comprehensive because good plot twists require a lot of information to make them work and that's makes them very specific. While I would love to explain why different plot twists work, part of them working is them fooling you and hindsight bias is kind of a thing.

Keep writing. If a plot twist just isn't working either scrap it or let it sit until you have the information to build reasons why it should work.

[aphroditelovesu]

Hello. Yandere husband Aegon the Conqueror ?

❝ 🔥 — lady l: I love Aegon and I feel that lacks content for him, so I'm doing my part. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of death and toxic relationships.

❝🔥pairing: yandere!aegon the conqueror x female!reader.

Even though Aegon already had two wives, he still chose to marry you. People often say he married Visenya out of duty, Rhaenys out of desire, and you out of love. But what few knew was how much in love he was with you.

Aegon the Conqueror dedicated his love to you intensely and silently. Amid the challenges of the newly unified kingdom, your presence was his strength. There was no doubt who his favorite wife was.

Some said you were chosen as his third wife as a way to stake a greater claim on Westeros, still fragile after the Conquest. You were a good choice, you came from a good family and you had honor, which was enough for others, but Aegon was in love, he was obsessed.

He fell in love with you quickly, being enchanted by your manner, your personality and your beauty. There was something about you that attracted him and he knew he couldn't let you go. He wanted you to become his wife and so it was done.

Some expected reservations from his sister-wives, but there were none. Visenya and Rhaenys liked you and supported Aegon's choice. The preparations were made and you quickly married him, becoming his third wife, Queen and the one he loved most.

Life with Aegon brought joys and challenges. His obsession flourished even in difficult times, consolidating a unique partnership between you. The court commented on the happiness that emanated from the king when he was at your side, and the union between you strengthened the bonds of the kingdom.

He was a loving and dutiful husband, Aegon would always make sure that you were happy and satisfied and if there was something that bothered you, you should talk to him without hesitation. Your happiness was the priority for him.

Aegon pampers you without limits, bathing you in gold, jewels and silks, everything worthy of a Queen. Your whims and desires were met immediately. If you just wanted to eat cake for breakfast, for example, you would have cake every day.

Your husband always sought your advice, confident in the wisdom and vision you brought, your opinion was always considered the most important. The complicity between you was evident, and although it aroused envy in some, Aegon would not let them harm you.

You played a vital role as the king's advisor and confidant, contributing to the stability of the kingdom. Aegon, in turn, never failed to express his gratitude and admiration for the woman he chose as his Queen. He adored you completely, from head to toe and would make sure you knew that every night.

Most nights, Aegon spent by your side. He shared a room with you, unusual for Kings, but he wasn't just any King. He loved you more than anything and wanted you to know that. He loved sleeping cuddled with you, your legs tangled together and arms wrapped around you. Aegon feels at peace by your side.

The harmony between you, Visenya, and Rhaenys solidifies the strength of the Triple Crown. The three of you, the Three Queens, work together to overcome political and social challenges, uniting the kingdom under the symbol of the dragon. Your presence, as the beloved Queen, triggers a period of stability and prosperity.

Aegon is extremely overprotective and possessive over you and this only got worse after Rhaenys' death. He knows he would go crazy if something happened to you and he can't allow anything to happen. He's suffocating and will be breathing down your neck for as long as he can and will kill anyone if they cross you, if they cross him.

You are the only person who can truly control him and Aegon will be happy to let you do so. There is no doubt about who holds all the power over him. Aegon would do anything for you, he would kill everyone for you, slaughter anyone for you. Yours and yours alone.

Once Rhaenys died, Aegon's obsession only grew stronger, Visenya's as well. They lost someone important and not all the destruction caused is enough to make up for it, they couldn't lose you too. Aegon cannot lose you. May the gods forbid, but if something were to happen to you... The world will know the true fury of the dragon.

Your love with Aegon not only stood the tests of time but blossomed into a deep connection that inspired songs and legends. In the halls of the Red Keep, where the flames danced, it was clear that your union was more than political; it was a bond intertwined by the most darkest feelings. It was a shame the bards didn't know about his obsession.

Aegon loves you, he truly does, and although he may be consumed by jealousy and anger, he would never lay a finger on you. He respects you too much to humiliate you in such a way. After all, you are his wife and his Queen and his favorite.

[samandcolbyownme]

This story will get dark and contain things that some readers might find unsettling and/or triggering.  PLEASE DONT READ IF THIS IS SOMETHING YOU'RE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH!!

Summary: Things get a little out of hand as you explore the Missouri Farmhouse with Sam and Colby.

Warnings include: talk of death and suicide, mentions of good and evil spirits, mentions of a brothel, reader being touched, spoken to, and tormented by spirits, mentions of being scratched, pushed, shoved, mentions of blood and puking, Estes method and other things some readers might find unsuitable - please read with caution my lovelies!

Disclaimer: everything in this story is completely off the top of my head, meaning I made it all up and also, y/n has a little thing going on with both Sam and Colby, but nothing is official. Enjoy!

Word count: a little over 16k | NOT edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"Yeah, okay. Thanks." Sam nods his head, "Alright. See you in a few days." He hangs up and sits down, "So." He ruffles his hair and looks between you and Colby.

"What's up, man?" Colby leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, "Was that Trevor?"

Sam nods, "Yeah it was."

"Who's Trevor?" You ask looking between them. You could tell something was up, but you didn't know what, "Sam. What's going on?"

"So.. Trevor is the owner of the house we're going to in a few days, and he said that we should rethink about bringing you along."

"Bringing.." Colby points to you, "Y/n along? Why?"

Sam leans back, "I guess having a female there just won't be a good idea according to Trevor."

"Why?" You shake your head slightly and sit up. Sam shrugs, "I guess when other female investigators that went, they left pretty banged up."

You raise your brows, "Well it's a good thing I can handle a few bumps and bruises."

Colby pulls on the corner of your sweater and you look at him. You can tell that he is only concerned for your safety right now, so anything you say will just go in one  ear and right out of the other.

You look back at Sam, "So what? I'm just going to be excluded from this?"

Sam sighs, "Trevor said that it's all up to you. If you want to go, no one will stop you."

"Well I wouldn't say no one." Colby chuckles slightly and looks up at you and Sam staring at him. He quickly covers it up, "She's our best friend Sam. Why would we potentially put her in danger? Especially since the owner of the house is telling us not to bring her?"

"He said it's her choice so I mean-"

You cut Sam off, "Yes. Exactly. And I want to go."

"Have you read up on the place we're going to?" Sam raises his brows and you stare at him, "No.. but I can."

He gets up, "Look, I'm all for you going with us y/n. You're a vital part of the team, you see things we can't sometimes, so of course we want you to go." He sighs, "Just read up on it then decide whether or not you want to still go. I'm going to go make sure we have all the equipment we need."

You watch as he walks away and then you turn to Colby, "why am I getting an irritated vibe from Sam?"

Colby shrugs, "Probably because of what Trevor told him, and because he cares about you." He turns towards you, taking your hand in his, "We don't want to put you in any harms way, okay?"

"Colby." You laugh slightly, "Everywhere I go with you guys, well not everywhere but the investigations specifically.. anything could happen. I've be targeted before. I've been scratched before. I honestly think I've been through it all with you guys."

He smiles and nods, "Yeah, no you're right, I just." He pauses and lets out a sigh, "We just don't want you getting permanently affected by anything."

You nod, squeezing his hand, "How about this.. I'll go read up on the Missouri Farmhouse and then I'll get back to you guys after?"

He smirks and nods, "Okay."

"What's that smirk for?" You tilt your head and he shakes his head, "I just.. I just know that you're going to still want to go even after reading up on it."

You purse your lips together and blink a few times.

"I know you so well." Colby smiles and stands up, "I'm going to go help Sam." You watch as he walks away before reaching forward for your laptop.

The keys clack in the silence as you type in Missouri Farmhouse.

You click on a link with the same image that Colby texted you and your eyebrows raise at the first headline.

Uncovered: Multiple Prostitutes Found Dead, Miles From Missouri Farmhouse

Your eyes scan over the paragraph, Arlon Wheeler has been named leader of the satanic rituals involving the sacrifice of female prostitutes.

"Satanic rituals?" You shake your head, scanning back over the old news article, Arlon Wheeler's wife, Cordelia Wheeler, came front with authorities and confessed to everything her husband and others involved have done.

You click back, trying to find a more recent one, mainly one about people investigating it.

"Oh, yes." You click on a link and your eyes widen at the second headline.

Scratching the Surface: Ghost Investigators Leave Missouri Farmhouse Scratched and Bruised.

You scroll down, eyes widening as you read, 'Yeah, we went in knowing that it could get a little wild, but I honestly didn't think that I would be leaving with five scratches and a few bruises. I partially can't recall what happened after entering the barn, but other than that, I can tell you that if you are a female ghost hunter, please proceed with caution.' Lyvie said. I asked her about the barn and she said, 'Oh yeah.. the barn. That's where the brothel - I guess, took place. Along long with the said rituals.'

A chill is sent down your spine as you sit up, taking in what you just read, but it just seems to get worse and worse.

'With further research, it has been found that Arlon and Cordelia Wheeler would plan for Cordelia to go into town and to pick up naive females and return with them for Arlon Wheeler's sadistic needs.'

You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out a sigh.

"That doesn't sound like a sigh of relief." Sam jokes as he sits next to you. He leans over, eyes scanning over your computer, "Mm, I see. Reading up on what you're getting yourself into?" You laugh slightly and look over at him, "Yeah, yeah."

You shake your head, looking back down at your computer, "I just.. That place is full of hatred."

"What do you mean?" Sam leans back against the couch and you point to the screen, "Between Arlon being sold out by his wife to all of those innocent girls being slaughtered for absolutely no reason." You look at Sam, "It's going to be a good video, but at what cost?"

You close your laptop and lean back, "I don't want you guys going in something like that alone." You smirk slightly, "What kind of friend would I be?"

"Friend.." Sam chuckles as he extends his arm over the back of the couch, "I'm just super anxious, because with you being a living female, I just have this weird feeling as to why there's so many reports on other investigators getting injured."

You lean in and rest your head on his shoulder, "Jealousy?" You turn your head to look up at him and he looks down at you, "Oh yeah." You smile, "Why's that, Sam?"

You can see his cheeks turning red as he tries to keep his composure, "Because.. As a pretty girl walking into something like that I-"

Colby cuts him off as he walks down the steps, "I'm looking at plane tickets. How many do I need?"

You sit up, looking from Colby to Sam. He smirks and holds up three fingers, "Three."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

""What's up guys.. It's Sam and Colby." Colby motions to the empty spot where Sam should be. He looks at the camera again and sighs, "What's up guys. It's Colby Brock, And today, we are currently at the airport, waiting to board our flight to Missouri." He tilts his head, giving a confused look, "Now, you're probably wondering, guys why are you at the airport waiting to go to Missouri? Well, we'll tell you."

Sam moves into frame and gives an awkward stare into the camera, "Hi." You laugh quietly, shaking your head as they continue the intro for the video.

"Sam, do you want to tell the people why we're going to Missouri?" Colby motions towards the camera and Sam looks at Colby, leaning in to mumble, "Why are we going to Missouri?"

You and Colby laugh at Sam and he sighs, "We are heading to a massively haunted farmhouse there. It is known for leaving a, figurative and literal mark on the people that go there to investigate."

"We're super nervous about this, considering what Sam says, I will be majorly surprised if we all make it out unscathed." Colby grabs the camera, turning it around on you, "We also have the very risk taking y/n here for this trip."

You smile and wave to the camera, "Nice intro for me, Colby." You laugh and he turns the camera around on himself, "I thought it was pretty bad ass, but okay." He laughs, "See you guys on the plane." He lays his hand on the lense and turns the camera off.

Sam sits down next to you, "Is anyone else actually kind of excited about this?"

You look over at him, "I'm half and half."

He leans forward, and you both look at Colby, "What about you?" Colby leans forward and shrugs, "I'm.. here." He laughs and you nod, "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"Hey, you cou-"

You cut Sam off, "I didn't want to stay home." He raises his hands, "Alright." He laughs, making you smile. He shake his head, "We couldn't get you to stay home even if we tied you to-"

"Oh my gosh!" A girl squeals, inconveniently cutting Sam off, "Are you guys really Sam and Colby? Like is this happening right now?"

Sam points to himself, "Yeah, I'm Colby and that's Sam." He points to Colby and Colby waves with a smile, "Yeah, my hair is a little darker than usual."

You smile and look up at the girl. Her jaw drops, "Oh my g- You're y/n! Are you guys making a video right now?"

You're shocked that she knows who you are, because you don't really get recognized much, "Yeah." You laugh slightly, "It's me." You glance over at Sam and he nods, "Yeah, were actually heading to Missouri right now to shoot a video."

All the girl can do is smile, "That's so freaking cool. Can I get a picture with all of you, please?"

You all agree and stand up as she finds someone to take the picture. You stand next to Colby as the girl stands between him and Sam. Colby wraps his arm around your waist, fingers gently rubbing your side as the stranger takes a few pictures.

"Thank you so much. oh my god, I can't wait to show my friends." She looks up from her phone, "They love you guys so much, they're going to freak."

"Thank you for stopping!" Colby smiles and gives the girl a hug, same with Sam, "Be on the lookout for this video. It's something you're not going to want to miss."

She nods, "I won't I promise." She looks at you, "Can I get a picture with you?" You look from her to Sam and back to her, "Of course, yes." She hands her phone to Sam and moves to stand next to you so Sam can take a few photos.

"Thank you so much, have a good flight!" She waves as she walks away and you turn to look at Colby, "Did that just happen?" He nods with a smile, "It sure did."

"Have you ever gotten stopped like that?" Sam asks as you all sit back down. You shake your head, "Nope. But I love it." You laugh slightly and Colby stands up, "I'm going to go get a drink, do you need anything?" You look over him and shake your head, "I have my water."

He motions to Sam, and Sam nods, "Just get me what you get."

You watch Colbt walk away before looking at Sam, "So what were you saying before all of that?"

He smirks and shakes his head, "About what?"

You smile and sigh, "oh you know, about me not staying home no matter what you did?" He laughs and sighs, "oh that.. Yeah, I was just saying how even if we tied you up at home you'd still find a way to come with." He leans in, "But something tells me that if we were to do that, no one would be going anywhere."

You sit up straight as his words send an intrigued shiver down your spine. You smile and look over at him, "This isn't some sort of I better say what i want now incase we don't make it back kind of thing is it?"

He laughs at your tease and shrugs, "I mean.. if it was.. I wouldn't say that and I definitely wouldn't be saying it here." He looks up as Colby walks back over, reaching up to take his drink.

Colby sits down next to you and sighs, "So what are we talking about over here?"

"Oh you know.." You look over at him, "Sam was just confessing his unprofound love for me, no biggie." You look at Sam and right before he can say anything, your flight is announced over the speakers.

"Oh look at that, perfect timing." Sam smirks and stands up. You look over at Colby and stand up, "Ready to fly into some spook-tacular fun?"

He laughs and points to you as he stands up, "You are definitely saying that on camera."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

The plane ride was quick, considering you fell asleep as soon as the plane took off. You woke up on the shoulder of a sleeping Sam.

"Morning sleepy head." Colby whispers with a smile. You wipe the little amount of drool from the corner of your mouth and smile, "Isn't it like four p.m?" He laughs and nods, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

The flight attendant annouces that you'll be landing shortly so you reach over to nudge Sam, "Hey.. Hey.. Sam. Samuel. Samuel John.." You look at Colby and back to Sam, "Samuel John Golbach."

You laugh slightly, "If you don't wake up, Colby will have no choice but to kiss you."

Colby leans forward, "What now?!"

"I'd like it better.." Sam sits up straight and looks at you, "If you kissed me instead."

You smirk, looking away to hide the blush growing on your cheeks and Colby holds his hand up, "Whoa. I think it'll be fair if she just kisses us both."

"You would like that wouldn't you?" You smirk at him and he nods, "Very much so." You lean back in your seat, the anxiety of going to that house tomorrow sets in.

The news articles flash in your mind, images of the the scratches and bruises people have received slip into the mix as well.

You didn't know your leg was bouncing a mile a minute until Sam lays a hand on your knee, "You good?" He asks with a slight laugh and you look over at him, "Yeah, I just got to thinking about the house."

Sam wants to suggest you staying at the hotel, but he and Colby both know that that isn't going to happen.

"I'm just.. what you told me about what Trevor said, it's just circling in my mind and I mean, maybe.." you shrug,"..I'm having second thoughts but I just can't let you guys go alone."

Sam smiles slightly and nods, "No, I know what you mean."

You all get up and get off the plane, making your way to the baggage claim. You yawn, laying a hand over your mouth, "Thank god we don't have to go until tomorrow."

You walk up, picking up your suitcase. Sam and Colby follow behind you, "Yeah, we all need to rest up before going there." Sam says, looking at Colby, "Do you want me to film or you?"

Colby shrugs, "Doesn't matter to me." Sam nods and you follow him over to a bench before he pulls out the camera, "Well guys. We have landed here in Missouri. Going to head to the hotel now and that's where we'll give you the rundown about everything that's going on tomorrow night."

"Colby, y/n." Sam turns the camera to face you guys, "How are we feeling?"

"Tired." You say with a laugh, "And kinda nervous, because we're only a few hours away from the house and I'm just.." you shrug, "Anticipating the scariness of it, I guess."

Colby nods, pointing his thumb towards you, "Exactly what she said." He laughs and nods, "But I'm ready."

Sam turns the camera back to himself and points, "See you guys in a few." Sam turns the camera off, putting it back in his backpack, "Alright, let's get to the hotel."

You make your way to the car that they rented and throw your stuff in the trunk. You get in and shut the door, waiting as they get in.

"So how far from the house will we he once we reach the hotel?" You lean over and look forward in between them.

"Um.." Colby thinks, "About an hour and a half, two with traffic maybe?"

You nod, "okay." You get on your phone, typing in the house you're going to into the search bar again. You click on a link you haven't looked at yet and rest your head against the headrest as you bring your phone up to read.

We got in contact with a group of ghost hunters to talk about their experiences at The Missouri Farmhouse. One said, 'Yeah, I was walking towards the barn and all of a sudden I was on the ground, almost like something came barreling behind me and I was in the way.'

Another said, 'I was standing on the porch of the home, just looking out over the dark cornfields when I felt something wet on my back and my shirt was kind of sticking to me. We went in the summer so I thought maybe it was just sweat - I was wrong. I had my friend shine her light on my back as I lifted up my shirt and I still can't get the way she gasped in shock out of my mind. I had two scratches going down my back and what I was feeling wasn't sweat - it was blood. My blood. I left right then and there and I don't plan on ever going back.'

"This person said that they were scratched so bad that blood was drawn." You look up and Sam and Colby both glance back at you, "I'm reading more on the house, and everything I'm seeing just gets worse."

"It's not going to be an easy night. That's for sure." Sam shakes his head as he comes to a stop at the red light, "We have to go in with a positive mindset, because if we go in with negative one, all we're going to get is a negative reaction."

Colby nods, "That's why I'm super thankful we came a day early. Just so we can rest up and really prepare ourselves for this."

You go back to reading.

'What would you say to anyone who plans on going to see the house for themselves? Would you try to persuade them from going?'

'Personally..' Darion starts, "..I wouldn't necessarily try to persuade anyone from going, because at the end of the day, if they really want to go, they're going to go. So what I'd say, is go in there with an open mind. Don't expect the worst right off the bat because if you do, you'll get the worse right off the bat. Treat the ground you walk on with as much respect as you humanly can and don't, don't underestimate the spirits that are trapped in that house - especially the barn.'

You lock your phone and look out the window. You don't really say much because of not only being tired, but because you're really thinking about whether or not you want to go.

You wanted to go, of course, but you didn't want to put the burden of being worried about onto Sam and Colby, considering they'll already be worried about each other.

You reach the hotel and make your way inside to check in before going up to the room. You sit down on the bed and fall back, "Finally."

Colby laughs, sitting down and falling back onto the bed next to you, "Tell me about it."

Sam sits down on the other bed and falls back, "So who's sleeping where?"

"I could honestly fall asleep right here." Colby laughs slightly. You nod, "Same." Sam sits up and goes to his backpack, "I forgot. We have to do the backstory stuff."

Colby sits up, "Oh shit, that's right." He gets up, moving over to the other bed, right in front of where Sam set the camera up.

You heave yourself forward with a groan and stand up slowly. You walk over, moving onto the bed behind them.

Sam looks back at you, "You can lay down if you want."

You shake your head, "I'm good."

Colby laughs and looks at you, "You just want to say that spook-tacular line don't you?" You roll your eyes as you laugh, looking at him with a serious look, "Maybe."

He laughs and looks forward as Sam gets the camera on. Sam sighs, "we made it to the hotel." He motions around before clapping his hands together, "We are about an hour and a half, two hours give or take, away from the Missouri Farmhouse."

He motions towards Colby and Colby takes over, "So the Missouri Farmhouse was known for a few things. One thing being that it was owned by two of the richest people in this town at the time, Arlon and Cordelia Wheeler. Second thing, the barn right behind the house."

Sam looks from Colby to you, "Y/n, you were reading up on it on the way here, why don't you fill everyone in?"

You nod, slightly shifting to face the camera, "So over the last few days and even today, I've been reading different articles pertaining to the house itself and the barn." You pull up your phone, unlocking it, "The barn is where a brothel was held for a few years. Multiple people from this town, and even family members to both Arlon and Cordelia, would come and pay them to engage in sexual activity with, as the article stated, naive prostitutes that Cordelia would pick up from town and bring back."

You look at Sam and he smirks slightly, "Keep going."

You smile and shake your head, "Not only did the sexual activity take place, but the same prostitutes would then be sacrificed to bring good fortune to the very greedy couple, and to also try and bring a miracle, or whatever of fertility onto Cordelia."

"Oh yeah, they didn't have any children." Colby snaps and looks at Sam, "I read that they tried multiple times, but nothing worked so I think it was a cousin, maybe, of Cordelia who was big into secretly doing witchcraft, that told her about the human sacrifice thing and yeah."

"So it was the cousin of Cordelia that started it all?" Sam asks and Colby nods, "I'd say so. Because what I was reading, they convinced her, promised her safety after she made a deal with the devil I guess and that's when they started sacrificing everyone, but I don't know how they could have saved her from everything."

Colby shrugs, "Bottom line, this place isn't going to be like any other place we've stepped foot into before."

"Oh!" You snap your fingers, "I also read some other investigator's personal experiences and the one got shoved, knock over on to the ground hard and the other one I read, she had two.. not one, but two scratches on her back.. and they were bleeding."

"I just hope that we leave with our skin in tact." Sam rubs his arms and Colby looks over at him, "I think I would rather leave unpossessed or something of that matter."

He laughs and Sam nods, "Yeah." He laughs, "You have a point with that one." He claps his hands, "Let's just hope that we all leave the same way we go in."

Colby and you nod and he looks back at you, "Anything else you want to add in?"

You stare at him and sigh, "We'll see you tomorrow on this spook-tacular adventure."

Sam and Colby cheer and Sam reaches up to turn off the camera, "That was great. I love that." He looks back at you and you laugh, "alright. I'm going for a shower."

You grab stuff from your suitcase and walk into the bathroom.

Once you're done, you come out to both Sam and Colby asleep on the same bed in positions they probably were expecting to fall asleep in.

You pull out your phone, recording as you walk over to them, "This is how I found them when I came out from the bathroom."

You zoom in on Sam, "I don't know how that's comfortable." You move over to Colby and quietly laugh, "again, I don't even know how that's comfortable."

You stop recording and tap Sam's knee, "Hey." He opens his eyes and smiles up at you, "Hey." You laugh and motion to his position, "How is that comfortable?"

He sits up, almost falling off the bed completely, "I honestly don't even know." He looks over at Colby, "Is he kneeling on the floor?"

You nod, drying your hair with the towel, "That he is." You toss the towel onto the floor and walk over to Colby, "Hey, Colbs." You tap his shoulder and he snorts, "Huh?"

You smile, "I think lying in the bed will be more comfortable.." you laughs slightly, "Better for your knees."

He laughs as he pushes himself back from the bed, "You would know."

Your jaw drops, "Hey now. I've never fell asleep like that." He glances up at you, a smirk comfortable on his lips, "Wasn't talking about that."

You roll your eyes, "Keep it up and you won't know." You make a face at him, smiling as he shakes his head, "Don't say that."

You hold your hands up, "Sorry." You go to walk to the other bed but Sam stops you, "whatcha doin'?"

"Going to bed." You point and pull the covers back. Sam pouts, "All alone?"

You smile at him and glance at Colby, "what? Are you scared or something?"

"Oh yeah, don't you see me shaking in my boots?" Colby pretends to shake and you laugh, "Fine. You've convinced me enough."

Sam grabs your hand and pulls you over him, laying you in the middle between him and Colby.

This wasn't anything new to you guys. You shared toddler beds as kids and it just stuck. You knew the moment you came to live with them that you liked them both.

They both seem to like you, and even though nothing is official, it just works for you guys.

Almost like a well oiled machine with no labels, all three of you just know.

"Goodnight." You roll onto your side and Sam turns the light beside the bed off, "Goodnight." He lays down next to you, laying his arm over your waist.

"Goodnight." Colby turns his light off and lays down facing you. He lays a hand on your hip and with them next to you, it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep at all.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You hear talking, but you try to ignore it as you don't really want to get up yet.

"Today is the day we go to the Missouri Farmhouse."

Your eyes snap open the instant those words leave Colby's lips. You lift your head, slowly looking around before sitting up.

"Oh, look. She's finally awake." Sam jokes and you cover your face with a pillow, "No." you groan, "I'm not ready."

Sam goes back to talking as you sneak away to get ready for the day. After a little bit you come back out and see Sam and Colby sitting on the bed talking.

"You still up for today?" Colby looks at you and you nod, "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" You set your bag down and walk over, sitting in the chair across from them.

"Just making sure." He smiles and you nod, "I mean, I'm nervous, but I'm trying to shake that away."

"It's normal to be nervous, especially when investigating something like this." Sam starts, "You just need to go in there with knowing that you're in charge of yourself."

You let out a breath, "I'm just.." you shake your head, "When do we have to meet Trevor?"

"He said he'll meet us at noon, but if you want we can go get something to eat." Sam suggests and you nod, "Yes. Please, I'm starving."

You make your way out to the car, debating on whether or not you should tell them about the dream you had last night.

You didn't want to freak them out, but at the same time, it felt so real, like you need to tell them.

"Hey, so.." you start out, laughing slightly when Colby looks at you, "I had a weird dream last night, and I debated on not telling you but it was something about the house."

"The house?" Colby questions and you nod, "Yeah, the farmhouse."

"Do you mind if I record this?" Sam asks holding the camera up and you shake your head, "No because it might be a good thing if you do."

You wait for Sam to do his intro, "We are currently on our way to get something to eat before going to meet, Trevor. He's the owner of the Missouri Farmhouse, but first, y/n here told us that she had a dream about the house so I'm just going to let her take it away."

He turns the camera back to you and you sigh, "Okay, so first off I don't even remember falling asleep so that's kind of weird because usually I do, you know what I mean?"

Sam and Colby both nod and you nod back, "Okay, so once the dream started, it was us, standing on the front porch of the house, it's nighttime mind you."

"Extra creepy." Sam laughs and you nod, "Oh yeah. Definitely. So we go in, and for what ever reason, Colby wanted to split up and I just had this absolute gut feeling that we shouldn't. So I kept telling him no, Colby. No we can't split up and he like got, I don't even want to say mad because it was worse than that."

"Almost like something took over him?" Sam asks and you hear Colby whine from the drivers seat, "Why me!?"

You shrug as Sam puts the camera back on you, "That's what I'm saying, like you were told that you were intimidating to the ghosts, and Sam.. well.." you laugh and he moves the camera to frown into it.

"Anyway, so we stick together, but there's all these shadow things moving around and at this point in the dream, I've had enough I want to go home, I'm clinging to Sam.." you see his lips form into a smirk and you try not to smile, ".. screaming to let me go let me go."

You point to Sam, "You, Sam, You're just looking around, watching these things fly and move around us and then all of a sudden everything goes dark, it feels like you're pulled away from me. I'm pushed backwards, and then I woke up. I don't know what time I woke up, but you guys were still asleep and it was still dark out."

Colby glances back at you in the rearview, giving you a why didn't you wake us up? look.

You frown slightly and sigh, "So I don't know if that has anything to do with what we're about to experience or what but it kinda has me shaking a little bit."

"I honestly don't even know what to say to that." Sam laughs slightly, "We wanted to record that just in case anything like that happens tonight at the actual farmhouse, so."

Sam turns the camera to Colby, "Click that like button if you think it will happen and hit that subscribe button if you think it won't." Colby smirks and winks into the camera and Sam smiles as he nods his head, "I see what you did there. Nice."

You laugh and lean back against the seat, your dream replaying in your mind over and over again as you make your way to the restaurant.

After lunch, you guys head to meet Trevor and Colby starts recording as Sam takes a turn driving.

"We are now on our way to meet up with Trevor. He's going to give us the whole run down." Sam looks over at the camera and back to the road, "My hands are sweaty. I'm actually getting more anxious the closer we get to going to the house, you know?"

"No, man. I know what you mean." Colby laughs and nods. You lean over, "We can just pull up to it, you know. Snap a few pictures then leave, I mean we can still say we seen it, right?" You laugh nervously and sigh, "Fuck. I cannot believe we're doing this."

"Well, believe it. We're here." Sam pulls into a driveway and Colby leans forward, "This doesn't look like the Missouri Farmhouse."

Sam starts laughing, "That's because this is Trevor's house, you fuckin' dummy."

You lay your hand over your mouth and Colby sighs as he nods, "Yeah.." He looks down at the camera and nods, "Okay." He turns it off and looks at Sam, "Thanks for embarrassing me, Sam."

"You did that yourself." Sam laughs and gets out, opening your door for you, "Ready?" You look up at him as he shuts the door, "Yeah. Let's go get some more horrific information." Colby walks around the car and stands next to you, "Did he say if it's alright to record this?"

Sam shakes his head, "I'm going to ask him."

You follow them to the door and Sam knocks. A few seconds later, the door opens and what you assume, Trevor smiles, "Hey, Sam?" He holds his hand out to Sam and he takes it, "Yes sir, I'm Sam." He points to Colby, "That's Colby."

"Hey, how are you?" Colby shakes his hand and steps out of the way as he motions to you, "This is y/n." You step up and shake his hand, "Hi. How are you?"

Trevor nods, "I'm good." He smiles, "I'm good. Please.." He steps out of the way and motions for you all to come in. You walk in, followed by the boys and Trevor closes the door, "So what do you want to know?"

"Oh before we start, do you mind if we film this for our video?" Sam holds up the camera and Trevor shakes his head, "Not a problem at all, whatever you need." He takes you guys into his dining room and Sam sets up the camera so you're all in frame.

"These look.. old." Colby reaches out and slides a paper over towards him, "What are these names?" He looks up at Trevor and Trevor sits down, "So this right here." He points to the paper in front of Colby, "We think these are the names of the prostitutes that were taken to the house."

"Like the ones that were sacrificed?" You lean over and look at the paper. Trevor nods, "Yes. We think this was kept by Cordelia as a way for her to have leverage over Arlon."

"Almost like blackmail?" Sam asks as he looks up and Trevor nods, "Exactly. Now these.." He opens a manilla folder and slides papers next to each other, "Lean in and read this. Tell me what you think it is."

All of you lean in, eyes scanning over the semi blurred words that read;

By signing this, you have gradually acquiesced to the demands of our leader, A.W. You must now obey order. If orders are not obeyed, there will be acts of retribution.

A.W. C.W

"Was this like a contract or something? Something that the women were, I'm assuming, forced to sign so they couldn't run and tell the truth about what was happening?" You ask as you look up at him.

Trevor nods, leaning back in his seat, "Precisely."

"Its such a short contract." Colby shakes his head, "But it actually worked? Like it was a valid thing?" Trevor shrugs, "I don't think there was such thing as a notary back then, but with enough people believing in Arlon, I'm sure that didn't make much of a difference."

"Can we take a picture of this name list? Just so we know who to try and talk to?" Colby taps his finger next to the paper and Trevor nods, "Oh yeah, of course. Take a picture of it all if you'd like."

Colby works on taking pictures while you and Sam talk to Trevor, "Can you tell us about any personal experiences that you or anyone else close to you have had?" Sam asks resting his elbows on the table.

Trevor blows out air, "Gosh, I don't even know where to start." He chuckles and you sit up more, "What about the girl that got scratched so bad she bled?"

Trevor's eyes widen as he nods, "Oh shit. Yeah. The panic in her voice when I got the call about them leaving, was not a call I wanted to receive at two a.m."

You nod, "Oh I can imagine. I was reading up on the house over the last few days, and some of the stuff I've read is just.. horrifying."

Trevor nods, "They're not exaggerating it at all, either. The barn, that's where everything was held for a majority of its time. That is where most of the crazy shit happens."

He shuffles through the folder and slides over a blown up picture of a wooden beam sticking straight up out of the ground, "My brothers and I were working on patching up some of the holes in the roof of the barn one day when I suddenly got this really bad, dizzy feeling. I stepped, maybe three steps, and that beam fell straight down onto the exact spot I was standing."

You all look at Trevor in shock and he nods, "Another time, I was in the house looking around to see what we could really remodel. I was standing on the stairs and it honestly felt like someone was trying to throw me over the banister."

"What the hell." Colby shakes his head, holding up hid pointer finger, "Note to self. don't stand too close to the stairs banister."

You and Sam laugh and Trevor nods, "Another don't you should follow." He looks between the three of you, "If you go into Arlon and the wife's room, don't let the door close on you."

"I know.. I'm probably going to regret asking this.." Sam sighs, "Why?"

"I've never had it happen to me, I even went there to see for myself, but I've had multiple reports about some crazy shit happening if you let the door close. For instance." He sits forward, "Someone called me and told me that their hearing.." He puts air quotes, "Stopped working."

"Oh shit." Colby shakes his head, "Almost like they isolated them." Trevor nods, "Yeah, they also said that they've heard things being screamed into their ear. They could never tell me what they heard. Every time they thought about it, it was on the tip of their tongue but they just couldn't ever say it."

"Now that is really freaking weird." Sam shivers, "I have the goosebumps just thinking about that, like being the only one in a room, a dark room at that, and just having something scream shit into your ear that you definitely make out, but you forget about it even though you know it? Does that make sense?"

You nod, "That would drive me absolutely insane." You lean back, stretching your arms out behind you.

"Did you get pictures of everything?" Sam asks Colby and he nods, "Yes, I did. I'll send them to both of you, just in case something happens to my phone." He sends out the pictures to you and Colby and you swipe through them as they finish up talking.

"Thank you so much for meeting with us." Colby holds his hand out to shake Trevor's hand again, "We truly appreciate all the information." Trevor shakes his hand then moves onto Sam's, "Not a problem at all. Again, call if you need anything and just be cautious around and in the barn if you do go in. You never know what can happen."

You nod and walk over to the door with them, "Wait." You turn to Trevor, "You told Sam on the phone that I shouldn't come? Why is that?"

"I found that the females that come to the house are targeted the most, probably out of the dead being jealous of the living." Trevor opens the door, "Just be extra careful, sweetheart. The pretty ones get more attention."

"Oh.. Okay. Thanks." You look from Trevor and Sam and Colby are both staring at you, "Again. Thank you for the information." Colby walks out, stopping to wait for you.

Trevor hands Sam the key, "This will open the front door. Call if you need anything."

"Thank you." Sam grabs the key, "I'll be sure to let you know how it goes." He lays a hand on your back as you walk in front of him.

"Good luck." Trevor yells before closing the door.

You get in the car after Sam open's your door, "He was fine up until the very end. I didn't like that." Colby looks back at you, "I don't think he meant it in the way that we took it, bu-"

Sam cuts him off, "I still didn't like it."

You laugh slightly, "It's fine. We have something bigger to worry about now." You take a deep breath, "The Missouri Farmhouse."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Stop here so we can get a shot of the entrance." Colby points and you lean around, "That's actually very fucking creepy."

Colby nods, "I know, all of the trees and then just this dirt, gravel road." he rolls his window down and holds the camera out, recording as Sam drive onto the long driveway.

Your heart drops into your stomach as the house comes into view.

"There she be." Sam says and you shake your head, "I already don't like this." You laugh nervously and Colby puts the camera on you, "You nervous or something?"

You roll your eyes and clear your throat, "What? Me? No. Not at all." You look at him serious, "Yeah, very much actually."

Colby laughs and turns the camera to Sam, "Well, brother. Now that were here.. how are you feeling?" Sam parks and takes a deep breath, "I honestly don't know." He laughs and looks over, "Y/n's dream kind of has me freaked out."

"Tell me about it." You run a hand through your hair, staring at the house as Colby records it, "Well, guys. This is .. The Missouri Farmhouse."

"We are going to get our things together and we will take you guys on a tour before it gets dark out, just so you can all see how old this house really is." Sam looks into the camera and Colby tilts his head, "You mean to show them how creepy this place actually is?"

Sam nods, "Same thing." He laughs as he turns the car off. Colby shuts the camera off and gets out, opening your door for you. You move at a slow pace, not rushing to get inside. You slip on your jacket, "How cold is it supposed to get?"

"I believe low forties." Sam says as he pops the trunk. You nod as you pull the hood from your sweatshirt out of the back of your jacket. Colby walks up next to you, "You ready?"

"As I can be." You smile up at him and he lays a hand on your hip, "At anytime-"

"You tell me this every time I do an investigation with you guys, and you know that if I absolutely cannot handle it anymore, I'll tell you." You smirk as he smiles and nods, "Just like to remind you."

"I appreciate that." You smile and turn to look at Sam, "So were just going to do a walk through?" He nods, "Yeah, I figured that with it still being daylight, we can get footage of how everything looks normal because I honestly feel everything is going to intensify when the sun goes down."

Colby puts his jacket on and sighs, "Ready?"

You and Sam look at him with a nod, "Ready."

Sam starts rolling, "Alright guys. So we are on our way into the house. This is what it looks like on the outside." Sam turns the camera around, panning it over the huge farmhouse standing before you.

You walk up to the door and Sam hands Colby the camera as he pulls the key from his pocket. He slips the key into the old looking lock and turns it, "Alright." Sam looks back as the door cracks open, "We're in."

"No going back now." Colby chuckles and hands the camera back to Sam so he can walk in first. You follow, Colby right behind you.

You trip on the step and fall into Sam, "I tripped." You announce quickly, "Sorry."

"You okay?" He turns around, laying a hand on your side and you nod, laughing slightly, "Yeah. I'm good." You look away from Sam, eyes scanning over the house.

Sam pans the camera around, "It's so old, yet so beautiful."

"Whoa, look at this." Colby walks over and Sam follows him. Colby points to a portrait on the wall, it's old and kind of ripped, "I think this is Arlon and Cordelia."

As Sam and Colby are talking about the portrait, you get this unsettling feeling that you're being watching, "Guys.." your voice is almost inaudible.

You reach out, tapping Colby's arm and he turns around, "Did you just- what's wrong?"

"Something is watching us." You swallow and turn around.

A shadow moves from the top corner of the doorway and you point, "That door. There was something in the top corner."

"Oh fuck." Sam walks in front of you, camera pointed at the door, "what did it look like?" He looks back at you and you shrug, "It was just a shadow, like a head shaped shadow."

"Jesus Christ." Colby shakes his head, "So we won't be going that way." He laughs and points the other way. You nod, "Yeah, that room.. gives me a bad feeling."

"What kind of feeling?" Sam looks at you and you take a breath, "Dark, evil kind of feeling."

Sam and Colby just stare at you for a second, "Okay." Sam says breaking the silence, "Moving away from that room."

You walk down the hall, staying as close as you can to them while holding your arms around yourself. Sam and Colby explain some backstory while you can't help but continuously look around like someone else is there.

"So there's what? Two three floors to this?" Colby asks.

"Three, but the third is the attic, but I guess it's huge." Sam answers. He looks over at you, "What's going on?"

You shake your head, "It doesn't feel like we're alone. Like don't you feel that weird feeling like someone is standing like right.." you wave your hand up and down behind Sam, "Here."

Sam turns around as Colby walks over, standing right where you motioned to, "Here you said?"

You nod and Colby looks at Sam, "I don't feel-" he moves back, "Whoa." He looks around quick and moves to stand next to you, "swear to god something just pushed me."

"We saw it." Sam looks from you to Colby, "Are you okay?" You lay your hand on his arm, "You were pushed backwards, so whatever that was, it was between us."

"Fuck." Colby shakes his head, "Do you still feel like someone else is here?"

You take a deep breath, shaking your head, "No. it vanished right as you got pushed."

"You moved next to y/n. What if they think that we're trying to -" Sam puts air quotes, "-protect her?" He shrugs, "I mean, we were told that they'll go after her more because she's a girl and the spirits can have some sort of jealousy towards her."

You shiver slightly, "That just send a chill down my spine, Sam. That's honestly so bizarre to hear out loud."

You snap your head to the left, eyes focused on the staircase, "shh." You hold your hand out, frozen for a second until you look at Sam, "There was walking, like heavy footsteps on the stairs."

There's a sudden loud thump only a few feet away from you that causes you all to jump and yell out, "Oh shit."

"What the fuck!?"

"Goddammit."

It happens again, and this time you jump towards Colby, grabbing onto his arm as you look at Sam, "What the hell was that?"

He shrugs, "I don't know but we should keep moving." He nods towards the hall and you and Colby follow him, making sure to stay extra close to them.

They continue talking about the place, making sure to give you reassuring glances every so often as you explore the rest of the house.

Soon enough, you're face to face with the barn.

"I mean.." Colby starts out as he takes the camera from Sam, "It doesn't really look all the scary in the daylight."

Sam laughs slightly, "It looks, kind of pretty with the light shining down through the beams."

You get dizzy, and it happens quick.

"Oh god." You mumble as you hold your head. Sam is right next to you, arm around your waist and you lean into him.

"What's going on?" Colby asks confused and you feel Sam shrug. You take a deep breath, slowly lifting your head, "I got, really dizzy."

Sam looks up at Colby and back to you, "Are you still dizzy?" You can tell there's concern in his voice, "Do you need to sit down?"

You shake your head, blinking a few times, "No. I think I'm okay." You brush hair from your face, eyes moving past Colby to look into the death filled barn, "That's not a good place."

Colby turns around, pointing the camera at the entrance, "If you wouldn't know anything about this place, it honestly looks like a normal barn that was abandoned, you know?"

Sam nods, arm still around you, "I'm actually kind of scared for when the sun goes down."

Colby nods, "I'm sure we're all feeling that way." He looks at you then to Sam, "I'm going to walk up, get a shot of the inside, you guys stay here."

"Colby." Sam warns, "I wouldn't."

"Yeah, don't go up there alone, please." You practically beg. Colby shrugs, "I'll be fine, I'll just run up and run back."

You tighten your grip on Sam's jacket as you watch Colby walk up towards the barn. You were preparing yourself to run and help him.

You had to be on your toes while here, this place is so unpredictable.

"Yo Colby." Sam yells, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I got it." Colby yells back, "Coming."

Your eyes are focused on Colby as he walks towards you and Sam, glancing behind him every so often. He wants up, pointing his thumb behind him, "It sounded like someone, you know those loft spaces in a barn where they store the hay?"

You and Sam nod and Colby looks back before continuing, "It sounded like someone was up there, scuffling around."

"That's not surprising. That's the most active spot out of everything." Sam shakes his head, "alright. So I'm thinking we go get something to eat, calm our nerves and really prepare for what we're going to be facing tonight."

Colby nods, "That's a good idea." His head snaps towards the house, "There's no fucking way."

"What?" Sam takes the camera, "What happened?"

You stay close to Sam, looking to where Colby is staring, "Did you hear something?"

"It sounded like someone yelled back here in the distance, like they were telling someone to get back here? You know what I mean?" He looks at Sam, "We're the only ones out here right?"

"We should be." Sam pans the camera around the old farm, "Take one last look, because when we get back. Everything will be engulfed with darkness."

"Isn't it already?" Colby asks, "With the spirits and all of that?"

Sam sighs, "I mean. Yeah, I guess. But I was trying to make it thrilling." He pouts and shuts the camera off as you and Colby laugh.

"Let's go take a minute." Sam lays his hand on your lower back, "We can go over the plan of where we want to start and where we want to end while we wait for the sun to go down."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

After dinner, you're in the car heading back to the farmhouse and you can't shake the nervous feeling.

All of the news articles pop back up into your head, flipping through like pages in a book.

"Y/n?" Colby's voice makes you jump, "Fuck." You laugh slightly, "Sorry. I was thinking about everything I read."

"Yeah, us too." Colby looks to Sam and back to you, "If things go south, we're getting out of there. No questions asked, no it'll be good content, nothing."

You nod, "Deal."

"If you at anytime don't feel like you can do it anymore.." Sam starts, "Same for you Colby, we're done."

Colby nods and you sit up, "I just can't wrap my mind around the fact that that girl had blood drawn."

"Spirits are powerful things, y/n. If they don't like you, they'll make it known." Colby quickly sighs, "Sorry. I wasn't thinking. I know that's probably something you don't want to hear after-"

"No, Colby." You lay your hand on his shoulder, "You're fine. I'm fine. We're all going to be fine."

You lean back, taking a deep breath as you see a familiar sign that lets you know you're almost to the beginning of the dirt road.

"We're almost there." Sam says, "Do you want to get the camera out Colby? We need to get a shot of this." He motions to the windshield, and you look out at the dark road that's only lit by the headlights of the car.

"Oh fuck me." You breathe out, laying a hand on your forehead, "This is sketchy as hell."

"I'm going to stop and turn the lights off." Sam comes to a slow stop, looking over at Colby, "Ready?"

Colby nods, "Rolling." He points the camera forward and Sam flicks the lights off, leaving the three of you in total darkness.

"Oh m- that is fucking scary." Colby laughs, "What the hell."

"Now imagine I turn the lights on and there's something just sta-"

"Sam!" You yell, tapping his shoulder, "Don't say that!" You laugh, "I'm already peeing my pants back here."

"Are you really?" Sam teases. Even thought you can't see him, you can tell he turns around and you scoff, "No, not really."

He flicks the lights back on and thankfully there's nothing there. You let out a sigh of relief as Sam starts driving again.

Sam and Colby go back and forth about the darkness, laughing and joking like they normally do. You weren't sure if it was your dream keeping a tight hold on you, or the fact that you're a girl going to this no girls allowed club, or what.

But you were scared, and you knew that you had to pretend that you weren't and it was going to be hard.

"Alright." Sam taps the wheel, "We meet again."

"The sun going down has definitely amplified the creepiness by a thousand times." Colby adds, "I have goosebumps."

Your eyes stay on the house and you squint, "Did you guys light that candle when we were in there?"

"What?" Colby turns around and Sam comes to a stop, "I didn't light anything."

You look back up at the house and the light you thought you seen wasn't there anymore, "It's not.. maybe it was just the headlights."

"I wouldn't be surprised if anything was on in there, so maybe you did see something lit." Sam assures you, "Let's get everything ready and take final minute before going in."

Colby shuts the camera off and gets out with Sam. You sit there for a moment before Sam opens your door, leaning down to look at you, "You okay?"

You turn your head to look at him, "Yeah. Yeah. Just taking a minute for myself." You slide over, swinging your legs out, "I'm ready."

You look up at Sam and he grips your chin, "That's our girl." He winks and helps you get out, closing your door behind you.

You walk around, grabbing your backpack from the trunk. You make sure you have everything that you planned on taking, along with the boys.

"I'm good." Sam says zipping up his backpack.

Colby nods, swinging his around to put his arms through the straps, "Me too."

"Yep. Let's go." You put your backpack on and step back so Colby can shut the trunk. He sets the camera on top and turns it on.

He back up, standing on the other side of you, "We are here."

"It's dark." Sam adds before Colby picks up, "It's finally time to explore the famous Missouri Farmhouse."

You look around, nothing but the light from the camera illuminating the short distance around you.

"Did you hear something?" Sam looks at you and you look at him, "No. I'm just looking around." You laugh and look at the camera.

"So we came up with a game plan of where we want to go first, and where we want to go last." Sam claps his hands together, "We all agreed that the barn is the last place we want to go, so stay tuned for that and we'll see you in a second."

Colby walks up, cutting the camera, "alright. Let's head up."

As you walk up to the house, you look behind you, squinting at the sight of a possible figure standing still at the back of the car.

You blink and it's gone.

You shake your head, looking forward as you're met with the farmhouse door. You look up, turning to look out into the darkness.

Colby opens the door and walks on, Sam lays a hand on your back, nudging you slightly so you walk in.

I'm not scared, you think, mind over matter. I'm not scared.

The camera light shines on the dark interior and Colby bumping into you causes you to jump, "Colby!" You yell quietly with a laugh.

"Sorry. Sorry." He laughs and lays a hand on your shoulder. Sam spins around, pointing the camera on you and him, "should we bring out the Epoch box?"

"Yes. That's a good start." Colby says, "Do you have it or do I?"

"I think you do." He points to Colby and Colby nods, "Okay." He pulls his backpack off and you wrap your arms around yourself, feeling a chill creep down between the multiple layers of clothing.

You let out a sigh, stepping closer to Sam.

"You alright?" He whispers looking over at you. You nod, "Just cold. I got a chill standing over there."

"I'll get this thing going." Colby stands up, walking over to the small end table, "So this is called the Epoch box. It isn't motion censored, but it's similar to the Ovilus as it uses a sophisticated algorithm to read the environment and converts the energy into yes or no responses."

"I'm Sam, these are my friends Colby and y/n. We're here to ask some questions and with those we come in peace. We mean absolutely no harm to anyone here so if it's okay with you.." he pauses, looking between you and Colby, "Can we ask you some questions?"

The box flickers a few times before lighting up green for a few seconds then stops.

"Okay. Is Arlon here with us?" Sam keeps the camera on the box as you all wait.

The box lights up red for a few seconds before shutting off. It flickers before going dark and you sigh, "I'm y/n. I mean no harm to anyone here." You step forward, "Is this Cordelia?"

The box flickers before lighting up green for a few seconds.

"So it's her." You look at Sam and then to Colby and he nods. He looks down at the box and furrows his brows, "Sam."

"What?" Sam walks over, making sure you go with him, "did it just turn off?" Sam looks up at Colby with a shocked expression.

Colby lifts it, "That says on, right?"

"So it.. what? Died?" Sam asks confused, "what the fuck?"

A loud thump makes you jump and you look behind you. It catches Sam and Colby's attention too because they turn after you, "What was that?" Colby whispers, "Sounded like a-"

Thump!

"That." You point, "That sounds-"

Thump! Thump!

"Okay." Sam sighs, "Lets move to the den area." Sam lays his hand on your back and turns back to Colby, "Just switch it off. Maybe we can get it to work somewhere else."

Colby nods, picking it up, "You said the den area?" Sam nods and Colby pulls out his phone. Sam looks at you and you look at him, shrugging before both looking back to Colby.

He holds his phone up, "I knew I remember seeing something about a den. Look." He shows you and Sam his phone and you nod, "so he had favorites."

"Looks like it to me." Sam says as he shows the camera Colby's phone, "Hold on, I'm trying not to get a gla- oh here we go."

Colby puts his phone in his pocket and sighs, "So. To the den we go?"

"The den we go." Sam nods before you all walk towards the end of the hall. Colby opens the door, announcing that it's you guys before walking in.

You get a weird feeling, almost like you're uncomfortable.

You shift around, pulling down your sweatshirt and jacket, "This room feels.. uncomfortable." You look at them, "Like I think I can tell what happened here just by how I'm feeling."

"If he had favorites, I'm sure we can all figure out what happened in this room." Colby points to you, "Do you want to leave? Are you okay?"

You shake your head, "No, I think I'll be fine. Do you have any names?" Colby pulls his phone back out and nods, "Edith Macentire, Daisy Lovell, Lydia?" he zooms in and shakes his head, "I can't read the last one."

"I'll get out the REM pod." Sam hands the camera to Colby before swinging his backpack off. He gets out the pod and looks around, "I'm not going to put it by the door, I'll put it.." he walks over to the small stand that's in front of the window and sets it down.

"Hello, I'm Sam. Just want to ask you a few questions, I mean no harm. I just want to try and figure out what happened in here." He gently claps his hands together, "there's a light on that pod there, if you get close enough to it, a light will flash. If you want to answer any questions, all you have to do is just make that light up, okay?"

A few minutes goes by before the light turns on.

"Okay. Is this Edith Macentire?" Sam keeps his eyes on the pod, "Just touch it once for yes or-"

The light flashes once time and turns off. Sam looks back at you and Colby, "Edith, did bad things happen in this room?"

The pod lights up one time and you move your hand to tap Colby, "don't we have a spirit box?" He nods, "Yeah." You look at Sam and back to Colby, "I think we should use it. I just feel like we need it right now."

"Okay." Colby nods, "I think it's in your bag." Sam walks up behind you and the REM pod goes off constantly.

Sam leans out from behind you, "What the fuck." Colby shrugs, looking back at him, "I don't know, man." Colby keeps the camera on the pod as Sam walks over, "I'm going to shut this off." Sam grabs the REM pod and holds it in his arm as he sets the little radio box on the stand, "You will be able to tell us things through this."

Sam step back, taking the camera from Colby so he can move up, "I'm Colby, I mean absolutely no harm, neither do my friends. Can you tell us what happened in this room?"

The static sounds for a few minutes, "..Man.."

"Man?" Colby questions, "Are you talking about Arlon?"

"..Evil!.."

"Arlon was an evil man." Sam shakes his head, "Are we still talking to Edith?" The static plays in the silence for a minute longer, "..Lydia.."

"Lydia. Can you tell us what the evil man did?" Colby rests his fingers on his chin as he watches the box, "..he said.. wouldn't die.."

"Did he tell them that they wouldn't die?" Sam whispers and you nod, "I think that's what she means. Maybe he promised them a good life since he was-"

Your words are cut short by the box, ".. he wants you.."

Your eyes go wide and your heart sinks into your stomach, "Huh?" Colby looks at you, Sam, then back to the box, "Who wants who, Lydia?"

You can feel your heart starting to race and it feels like something is creeping up behind you. You glance behind you, seeing nothing as you move closer to Sam.

Sam looks down at you and wraps his arm around your shoulder as he holds the camera on Colby. Colby shake his head, "I think she's gone."

Instantly after Colby stops talking, "..run!"

You feel a gently tug on your jacket before it feels like a yank and you're pulled from Sam, both of you yelling at the same time. He grabs your arm pulling you back to him as Colby comes over, "What the fuck just happened?"

You cling to Sam as he hands the camera to Colby. Colby keeps the camera pointed down, "Sam wh-"

"..I told you.."

Colby walks over, shutting off the box, "Okay that's enough for now." He walks back over, camera still down at your guy's feet , "Are you okay?"

You keep your head pressed against Sam's chest, "When it said he wants you.. I got this feeling that there was something, I don't know." You sigh, "Creeping up behind me and then right after run was said, I got yanked backwards."

"I don't.." Colby shakes his head, letting out a sigh, "I don't want to say anything, but I know we're all thinking it.."

"He wants her." Sam says nodding down to you. Colby nods, "Mhm." You lift your head from Sam's chest and sigh as you try not to laugh, "This is insane."

Sam takes the camera back and you walk towards Colby, taking a deep breath, "Okay. Where to next?"

Colby smiles slightly and shakes his head, "You want to keep going?" You nod, "I'm not tapping out yet."

"We hit two of three places down here, I don't really want to go into that room she saw the shadow figure in. Not at night, gives me a very bad feeling." Sam says and you nod, "So, upstairs then?"

"I think we should go into Arlon and Cordelia's room." Colby raises his brows and you nod, "Just please don't let the door shut."

You make your way out of the den and into the hallway. Colby shuts the door and you all freeze as you hear something in the hallway.

You wait a few seconds before starting to walk, "So.." Colby says to the camera, "We are currently making our way up to the bedroom that housed the ring leaders to this whole shabang."

You laugh slightly, "Shabang." Sam smirks and Colby rolls his eyes as he chuckles.

Each creek of the stairs is unsettling to you. You're jumpy, really jumpy. So every little sound causes your body to feel like you're going to jump out of your skin.

"Alright." Sam breathes out, "We have reached Arlon and Cordelia's humble abode." He takes a deep breath, "We should find something heavy to put in front of the door so that way if it moves we can hear it."

Colby reaches for the handle, looking between you and Sam, "Ready?" You and Sam both nod and you walk up behind Colby as he pushes the door open slowly, "Okay. I don't see any-"

Something falls right into the door way and you gasp while jumping back. Sam groans, "Jesus Christ." Colby squeezes his eyes shut and open them, "I may have peed a little bit."

You look down and step towards Sam, "Oh gross."

"I didn't.. actually.." Colby sighs and shakes his head, "Let's just go in." Colby steps in and turns around, "The atmosphere in here is.. different."

You walk in and look at Colby, "You're right." Sam follows you and looks around, "That's actually super fucking crazy."

Colby keeps his hand on the door while you look for something kind of heavy, "Would this work? If we just pull this over in front of it?" You point to a small table and he shrugs, "I can stay by the door just in case."

You push the small table over, freezing as you hear footsteps in the hall.

"Did those come from up here or down there?" Sam whispers and Colby shrugs, shaking his head, "I-I don't-"

What sounds like running in the hall causes you and Sam to move by Colby. Sam leans forward, aiming the camera into the darkened passage, "I don't see any-"

"Did that just move?" You say cutting Sam off as you point to the bed, "The blanket. Wasn't that tucked up by the pillows nice and neat when we came in?"

"I have no idea, I didn't really look." Sam says, "It could have-" he tells jumping slightly, "Fuck."

"What what what!?" Colby yells quickly, "you good?!"

Sam nods, "Yeah, just something like drug up the back of my leg."

"Do you feel like you're scratched?" You take the camera from him and he just stands there staring at the ground, "Sam." You snap your fingers and lean in to look at his face, "Sam. Hey."

He blinks as you wave your hand in front of his face and looks up at you, "No. I'm good."

You look at Colby and Colby shakes his head, "Where'd you go man?" He looks at Colby confused, "What do you mean? I've been right here."

You slowly shake your head, gasping loudly when you see something in the slightly dusty mirror, "Oh my god. The mirror." You aim the camera at it, the light from the camera reflecting off, "A woman, was just standing there."

"Cordelia?" Colby asks and you shrug as you look to Sam, "You with us?" You reach out, wrapping your hand around his wrist.

He slides his hand into yours and squeezes it, "Yeah, no. I just. I'm dizzy. Like really dizzy."

Colby lays a hand on your back, "Let's get out of this room." You hand Colby the camera as you guide Sam out. He walks over to the wall, resting his back against it and you look back at Colby, watching as he closes the door.

"Hey, you alright?" Colby asks walking up, "Did you see anything when you spaced out?"

Sam shakes his head, "No, I just couldn't look up from the floor." He runs a hand over his face, "I could hear you calling for me, but I just-"

"Frozen." You say and he nods, "Literally, yeah. That. I didn't hear anything other than you and Colby." You step towards him and lay your hand on his shoulder.

He tilts his head back, resting it against the glass, "I'm not dizzy anymore."

"Well that's good." Colby sighs, "do you need a water or anything?" Sam shakes his head, moving to stand up straight, "No, I'm alright."

You glance to Colby and he nods, "Let's take a minute. It's been a lot for all of us right now."

"No let's just keep going." Sam insists, "I'm fine."

Colby nods and you sigh quietly, "Okay. Where to next?" Sam points down the hall, "Arlon gave Cordelia an office like room to keep things organized, I guess. We can do that then we can go outside for a minute."

"Whatever you want to do, Sam." Colby says and Sam nods, "I'm good." He smiles, "I promise."

You nod, following him down the hall to one of the doors, "Okay, so." Sam points to the door and Colby shows it to the camera as Sam continues to speak, "This is where all of the information they could get about each prostitute was kept. Cordelia, Arlon's wife was in charge of getting them to come back here."

"Do you think she talked them up wherever she found them or kind of did like an interview situation?" You look from Sam to Colby and Colby points, "That's actually a really good point, we can get the spirit box or something out and ask."

"We can try the Epoch box again. See if downstairs was just a bad spot for it." Sam says before reaching for the doorknob, "it's just us again."

He steps in and turns around, making sure you're behind him. Colby follows and pans the camera around the room, "It really is like an old timey office."

"Look, this is that same list of names, do you think this is the original?" You move over to the desk, looking at the old looking piece of paper. Sam walks over and check it out, "This might be a copy? I mean, it looks pretty real to be a copy, so I don't know."

Colby moves over, shining the light from the camera over the page so you can see it better, "I wouldn't mess with it, you know just, to be on the safe side."

You nod and hold your hand up, "Do you hear that?" Sam and Colby look to you before turning towards the open door.

The sound of a door opening and shutting echos through the hallway.

"What door is that?" Colby whispers and Sam shrugs, "Could it be the bedroom?" Colby walks over, peaking out as he aims the camera.

He leans back in quickly and exhales, "Holy fucking shit." He looks to you and Sam, "Holy. Fucking shit."

"Did you see something?" Sam asks, "Colby. What did you see?"

"The door, to the bedroom, was cracked open and a shadow came up the steps and went into the room then it shut." Colby's breath is shaky.

"No fucking way." Sam lays a hand on his mouth, "Are you serious?" Colby nods, "Swear to fucking god, Sam. I'm not shitting you, it- here." He hands Sam the camera and reenacts what he saw, "It came up the steps like this, slow. Then just turned like this.." he turns his body, "And then just went into the room."

"Jesus Christ." Sam sighs and you lay your hand on your forehead. You feel like you're sweating, "Do you guys, feel.. hot?"

Sam turns to you, "Are you- what's going on?" He feels your forehead, "Colby, she's sweating."

"How? It's like forty degrees outside." He walks over to the other side of you and you lean against him, "I think we need to take a break." 

"Yeah. I agree." Sam nods, taking the camera from Colby before Colby wraps his arm around your waist, "Come on." He walks over to the door, looking out before rounding the corner with you.

The only light you have is from the camera that Sam has behind you. He pulls his phone out, switching on his flashlight as you reach the steps.

"Careful." Sam says as you and Colby step onto the first one. These steps were old, so you had to go up and down with care.

You reach the bottom as just as you are about to make it to the front door, it feels like something grabs your arm and tries to pull you away from Colby.

A faint, "Stay.." is whispered as you pull your arm back.

"Something just grabbed me and told me to stay. It was super quiet." You grip Colby's jacket and he opens the door, "You're good. We got you." 

He walks you outside and Sam shuts the door behind him with a loud, "Holy fuck."

"Yeah. Yeah." Colby nods as he walks you over to the car, "Here." He opens the door, "Sit for a second."

You sit down and let out a sigh, "Sam, are you okay?" You look up at him and he walks over to you, "Yes, sweetheart. I'm fine."

You smile slightly and nod, "Okay." He brushes hair from your face, "Are you?" You nod and he turns to Colby, "Are you okay?"

Colby nods, "Yeah." He shakes his head, "Maybe we should do a recap before anything else." Sam nods, looking back at you, "Stay here."

"You don't have to worry about that." You laugh slightly, watching as Sam walks to the back of the car. You rest your head against the seat, listening to them talk to the camera.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You stand up, slinging the back pack over your shoulder, "I know it wasn't really in the plan, but I think we should do the Estes method in between the barn and the house."

Colby looks between you and Sam, "Do you think that that's really a good idea?"

Sam puts his backpack on, moving his hood out, "I mean, it can't hurt to try. Two of us will be able to see and hear."

Colby shakes his head, "I don't know. This place just makes me nervous for something like that." Sam nods, "No I understand, but I was honestly going to say something about doing that too."

Colby chews on his cheek for a few seconds, "Who ever does it, has to be prepared, that's all I'm saying." Sam sighs, "Yeah, Colby. I know."

This place was doing something to them.

To all of you.

Tensions are usually never this high. You knew you all wanted to do this for the video, but you also knew that you all didn't really want to be there anymore.

"Let's just.." Colby sighs and you cut in, getting out of the car, "Let's just take it one step at a time because we really don't know what is going to happen."

"She's right." Sam says, we can just go back, maybe set up flashlights? I don't know where but we can try that?"

Colby nods, "Yeah." He grabs the camera, "Come on." He switches the camera on as you start to walk back towards the house.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You all stop, looking at each other before the sound of something tapping against the glass catching your attention  again, tap. Tap. Tap.

"Okay.. that's freaky." Sam laughs slightly, "What window is it?" You shrug, "It sounds close." Your eyes scan over the windows that are lit up by the camera light.

You point to the middle window, "The curtains moved in that one." Colby steps towards the window, holding up the camera to see inside when all of a sudden he jumps back after a loud thump on the glass scares him.

"What the fuck!" He yells stepping back, "That was literally right fucking there."

"There's no way that wasn't on video. Holy shit." Sam walks up to the window and looks in, "I don't.. see.. anything.."

He shakes his head and looks back at you, "Lets go around to the back." You and Colby follow him as you walk around to the back.

Colby shines the camera over towards the bar, "There it is." He shivers slightly, "Just looking at it sends a shiver down my spine."

"So what do we want to do?" Sam asks as he looks between you and Colby. You shrug, "I'm all for doing the Estes method."

Sam nods and looks at Colby, "Colby?"

Colby sighs, "I guess we can do that, but who-"

"I'll do it." You raise your hand and they both just look at you with a solid look. Sam sighs, "We can all do it. Take turns."

"I'll go first." Colby says handing Sam the camera. Sam looks at him, "You sure?" Colby nods, swinging his back pack off, "Yeah."

You look at Sam and back to Colby, watching as he digs in his bag to pull out a bandana and the equipment.

You had an eerie feeling creeping in again, maybe it was just your nerves about doing this method with the barn right there.

"Okay. So are we thinking like right in the middle?" Colby asks and Sam reaches out, pointing to a specific spot, "Yeah I'm thinking something like right in here. It looks about halfway."

Colby sets his bag on the ground and sits down next to it. He takes a deep breath, "Okay." He wraps the bandana around his eyes and ties it behind his head.

Sam sets the camera down on top of his backpack, angling it so you're all in frame as you sit on either side of Colby.

Sam leans over, showing the camera how loud the static plays through the headphones. He hands them to Colby, "Here you go."

Colby takes them and puts them on, shaking his head slightly as he gets used to them, "Pain."

You look at Sam with your eyes wide, "What the fuck."

Sam shrugs, "I know you were and still are in a lot of pain. Can you tell my friend, Colby here who is talking to us."

Your eyes move to Colby as he tilts his head, "Why?"

"Are you asking us why we're here?" You ask and Colby answers, "Yes, why?"

"We're here to figure out what to the women Cordelia brought back to this farmhouse." Sam says and Colby taps his knee with his hand, "There was like.. a scream?"

"Who are we talking to?" Sam asks looking around, "Are we talking to one of the girls?"

"In the barn." Colby says, "He wants.. you in the barn."

"Who wants us in the barn?" You ask, "Does Arlon want us to come into the barn?"

"not all." Colby states, "Just one."

Sam points to you and you shake your head, "I'm not going in there alone. I'm not."

"Yes. You are."

As soon as the words leave Colby's lips, the hood on your sweatshirt is pulled back and you slam your hands behind you to catch yourself as you let out a scream, "What the fuck?"

Sam taps Colby and Colby pushes the headphones off, "Right before you tapped me, there was a deep, manly like laugh."

"Right after you said yes you are, she got pulled backwards." Sam looks over at you, "Are you okay?"

You nod, "Yeah." You sigh, "Yeah. That just, I let my guard down for a second." You run a hand through your hair and move closer to Colby, "That barn just.." you glance back at it and your eyes focus on the dark inside.

You can't tell if your brain is playing tricks, or if you actually see things moving.

You look away, trying to focus on Sam filling in Colby on what you and him asked, but you just can't seem to stay focused.

You rest your elbows on your knees, holding your face in your hands.

You feel Colby's hand on your shoulder, but you just can't acknowledge it. You take a deep breath and manage to lift your head, "I just.. couldn't get focused there for a second."

"You good now? What happened?" Sam asks and you nod, "I looked at the barn and I just couldn't look away. It's like I was supposed to be looking at that and only that. So I just rested my head down until the feeling went away."

"Fuck." Sam whispers as he looks to the left, "That place is more powerful than people think."

"Here." You take the bandana from Colby, "I'll go."

He lets you take it, "Are you sure?" You nod as you untie it, "Yes." You wrap the bandana around your head, completely blocking your vision. You take a shaky breath as you feel Colby lay the headphones in your hand.

"Whenever you're ready." He assures and you nod before putting them on, static completely drowning out everything else.

Sam takes a deep breathe, "Can you tell us who we're talking to?"

"Sam." You straighten your back as his name rolls off your tongue, "Colby?"

"What do you want with y/n?" Colby asks, eyes glued to you, "Why do you want her?"

You try and keep your breathing under control as you do your best to listen, "You can't have her."

"No." Sam says sternly, "You're the one who can't have her. She isn't yours to touch or have, just like the innocent women that you killed years ago."

You tighten your hands into fists, "They weren't good."

"Why weren't they good? Can you tell us what was bad about them?" Colby asks as he looks around, "Arlon. Can you tell us why?"

You listen few seconds, "Arlon. He's here. It's him. Help."

Colby takes a deep breath, "Should we pull her out?" Sam shakes his head, "Not yet. Arlon, why are they so scared of you?"

You tilt your head, "Bad things happened. He did it."

"We know he did bad things. We know it was him. Can y-" Sam stops talking as you cut him off.

You speak normally, "It's almost like they're arguing with him."

Sam looks at Colby, "Arguing? Like one do the girls and Arlon?" Colby shrugs, "Can you tell us why he killed those women?" Colby pauses for second, "Why did he kill you?"

Words are shouted loudly in your ear, "He says he had to."

"Was it the cult he ran? Can you tell us about that?" Sam asks, watching you.

You shake your head, " He wanted to."

Sam and Colby look at each other, "Did Cordelia bring you to the house?" Sam runs a hand through his hair, glancing at the camera before snapping his head back to you.

"You don't love her."

"who? Who are you talking about?" Colby asks, "Who doesn't love who?"

"Sam. Colby." You pause for a second, "Y/n."

"Holy shit." Sam sighs, "Why do you want y/n?"

"Mine."

"Not a chance." Colby says looking at Sam, "I'm going to tap her leg."

"Mine. No!"

"Colby. Her hair." Sam points to your hair that's lifting off your shoulder and Colby taps your leg a few times, kinda rough.

You jump as you feel the tapping and you push the headphones off before ripping the bandana off of your head, "Okay. What the fuck?"

Sam has a shocked look on his face and Colby lays a hand on your back, "Did you not feel your hair lifting up?"

You shake your head, "Um. No." You run your hand down over your hair, "I was only focused on the arguing I was hearing, what were you guys asking?"

They fill you in and you raise your brows, "So it makes sense as to why it sounded like it was arguing." You shake your head, "That's.. actually kind of scary, not going to lie."

"I don't think you going any closer to the barn is a good idea." Colby says, "I don't want to risk you getting hurt or anything."

You nod, "No I agree. I don't even like looking at it." You look to the barn and away, shaking your head as you close your eyes, "Anyway. Sam. Are you doing this?"

Sam nods, "Yeah. Yeah." He takes the headphones, sitting down in the same spot you and Colby sat. He ties the blindfold around his head and takes a deep breath before putting on the headphones.

Instantly, his words are loud, "Help.."

"What do you need help with?" Colby asks as he sits down next to him, "Who is asking for help?"

You freeze, eyes moving from Sam to Colby as soon as Sam just starts listing off names non stop, "Kathleen, April, Eloise, Bethany, Rita, Liza, Sarah, Taylor.."

"Are you the girls Arlon sacrificed?" You ask and Sam responds instantly, "Yes, he's evil."

"Is he with us right now?" Colby asks and Sam tilts his head, "He went out."

"Where did he go?" Colby asks, and you'rere frozen with fear as you see a black shadow figure move a little being Colby, "C-Colby."

"Outside." Sam says and Colby looks at you, "Where outside?" He looks back at Sam, "Is he with us?"

Sam doesn't say anything for a few minutes.

You reach over, tapping Colby's leg, "there was a shadow figure behind you." He turns around quickly and looks back at you, "Where?"

"It was like a foot or so back from you. I don't know, I just seen it and then it was gone." You wrap your arms around your tighter, "Mayne we sho-"

"No." Sam says, "Don't go."

"Why?" You ask, "Why do you want us to stay?"

"You know."  Sam says and you shake your head, "we're not staying." You go to tap Sam's leg but it's almost like something grabs your wrist to prevent you from disturbing him.

"I can't.." you try to pull your hand away but it's like stuck there, "Colby."

"They can't help you." Sam says and then he rips the headphones off, throwing them away from him. He pushes the blindfold up and your hand drops, "Fucking no. No fucking way."

"Are you okay?" Colby grabs your hand and your hand goes to wrap around it, "My wrist is burning." Sam crawls forward, grabbing the flashlight from his bag. He shines the light on your skin and you all become shocked when you see finger marks on your wrist.

"I went to tap Sam, get him out of it, and something grabbed my wrist, I couldn't move until Sam threw off the headphones." You explain, pulling your wrist to your chest.

"No, we're done. We're leaving." Colby stands up, grabbing his backpack and it sounds like something heavy falls in the barn, causing all of you to move back a little bit.

"What was that?" Sam asks quietly and you all just stare at the dark opening of the barn, "I don't know and I really don't want to find out." Colby walks over to you, helping you stand up, "We can come back in the daytime, try something then."

"Yeah, right. Okay." Sam gets up, bending down to grab the camera after slinging his backpack on. You start to walk around the way you came, a lot slower than normal, just to be cautious if there was anyone else there.

"Right before I threw the headphones off, it was a loud, clear as day, man voice yelling death like three times in a row, like boom boom boom." Sam explains, "Ive never.. had that happen." He lays a hand on his chest, looking over at you.

He reaches out, grabbing your wrist to inspect it, "Is it still burning?" You shake your head, "No. thankfully."

"Alright. I haven't heard any-" Colby stops talking and instantly switches the light to the camera off when the sound of branches breaking sounds from the woods next to you.

"Should we call out? What if it is people?" Colby whispers leaning in to you and Sam. Sam wraps an arm around you as you huddle next to him, "We should just go."

"we're going, but like.." Colby sighs, "I think we should acknowledge that we hear it, them, you know what I mean?"

"I get what you're saying but like.." Sam pauses and there's a bang on the window, causing you all to jump and move away from the house, "we can just try to make it to the car?"

"Okay." Colby whispers, "Stay close together."

You move along the house more, your grip tightening into Sam's jacket as you see the car in view. Colby stops, "Should we just book it?"

"Yeah, but at least turn the light on." Sam says and Colby switches the light on, but it suddenly goes back out. He tries switching it on a few times, "It's not.. turning back on."

"Fuck, okay." Sam digs into his sweatshirt pocket, pulling out a flashlight. He switches it on and it stays on, "Okay. Lets go."

His arm stays around you as you guys start for the car. Sam's grip is suddenly ripped away from you when he falls to the ground with a groan.

"Sam!" You yell, turning around to go down to him, "Are you okay? What happened?"

Sam gets up as quick as he can, "I tripped or what tripped?" He shakes his head, "Let's just get-"

The door slamming shut on the front door of the farm house causes him to snap his head towards it, "Get in the car."

Colby reaches for the door handle, pulling on it a few times, "Keys. Keys. Keys."

"I thought you had them." Sam yells quietly as he pats his pockets, "Shit." You check your pockets frantically, hoping that some miracle will happen and one of you will find them.

"Backpacks. Check the backpacks." Colby drops his bag to the ground and sets the camera down before digging in his.

You and Sam do the same and you shake your head, "I checked each pocket." You sigh, "What the fuck."

"You didn't drop them in the house did you?" Sam asks as you grab the flash light. You shine it around the car and point with a slightly loud, "Ah ha. There! There."

"How did they get under-" Colby reaches under the car, pulling them out, "The fucking car?"

"We can talk about it when we get in, just unlock it." Sam says as he throws his stuff back into the backpack.

Colby unlocks it, causing the lights to flash. You all rip open the doors and get in, shutting them with a slam.

"Fuck that." Sam says.

"I honestly can't believe we stayed that long." Colby sighs, "What the fuck is that place?"

You take a few deep breathes, trying to remind yourself that you're in the car now. You're safe.

"Okay. Let's just.. Go back to the hotel and we can figure out everything there." Sam turns around to look at you, "You good? You okay?"

You nod, "Yeah. Yeah. I'm good." He nods and turns back around, buckling up as Colby starts to drive, "I just want to know if people were there. That was fucking weird."

"That whole place is fucking weird. You have to be out of your mind to go there at night." Sam pauses before laughing slightly.

You and Colby join in laughing. The feeling of relief settles in the further you drive down the gravel driveway.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I'm sorry that it's so long but if you made it to this point, I truly appreciate you so much. Thank you for reading.

I figured this was a good place to stop. When the time comes, I’m thinking of doing a part 2 where they investigate the barn during the day? What is think?

Love you so much 🖤

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

CLASSES - a comprehensive guide

The first thing that needs to be said is that there is no such thing as a "bad" class. All of them have the potential to be a great detriment OR great boon to the rest of the team, depending on how far along the journey of self-actualization a party member is. Some may have steeper challenges, but this corresponds with greater rewards.

The second thing that needs to be said is that all players are part of a team, and all personal journeys and playstyles are interlinked. No class is truly "solo." Even the smallest viable session is still two people, and even the most suitable classes for solo play are stronger when they're in a party.

The last thing that needs to be said is that the game wants you to succeed. The game, inherently, wants every player to reach godhood, wants every player to self-actualize, wants every player to win. It respects free will and free choice, so it will allow for failures (and, indeed, doomed timelines are vital to the alpha one existing), but Skaia is ultimately optimistic, and tries at every turn to ensure that a golden ending is possible.

Because, after all, SBURB/SGRUB - and Homestuck itself - are about children growing up, maturing, and learning compassion for each other. About fixing their flaws and rejecting the negative aspects of the society they came from. It's about how it is our duty, our responsibility, to become kind, mature people who care about one another, because we will one day be responsible for creating a new society.

And so, without further ado:

ACTIVE (-) Classes and PASSIVE (+) Classes are described with the dichotomy of "powers working for the self" vs. "powers working for others," but I believe this to be an oversimplification of what the active and passive split is. Both active AND passive classes benefit from being in a party; however, an active class will gain fewer party benefits in exchange for being more suited for solo play, while a passive class will be less suited for solo play, but confer much greater benefits to party play.

This is reflected in their personal quests: while active classes and passive classes will both require intervention, empathy, and guidance from their teammates, the struggle of an active class is usually one of grappling with internal flaws, and the struggle of a passive class is one of grappling with interpersonal or societal relations. In other words, the personal quest of an active player will usually involve getting therapized, while the personal quest of a passive player will usually involve addressing a systemic societal issue. Often, both will be required, but whether a class is active or passive will indicate an area of focus.

KNIGHT - / MAID +

PARTY MANAGEMENT

one who wields [aspect] or leads with [aspect] / one who distributes [aspect] or manages with [aspect]

KNIGHTS (-) are a very flexible and versatile class; "wielding" their aspect does not necessarily mean they are skilled at DPS. It actually indicates the way a knight interacts with their aspect, a very straightforward relationship of tradesperson and tool, or soldier and weapon. Similarly, while a knight does not always take up the "leader" position in the party, they will be the "spearhead," a point behind which the other players rally, a beating heart keeping the party together.

This straightforward relationship between a knight and their aspect leads to knights finding little difficulty mastering their aspect once they've begun. Many knights are, in fact, instinctively drawn toward utilizing their aspect, in the same way that they are naturally drawn toward roles of importance or heroism.

Knights often struggle with their perceived place in society, as well as with their innate sense of self and self-worth, seeing themselves as outcasts, resenting the responsibility placed on their shoulders, and fearing vulnerability. Unaddressed, these issues will lead to knights who actively become a detriment to party success. For example, they can dismiss valid concerns, shirk their duties, and in the worst case scenario, actively lead the party down the wrong path, invoking their natural ability to lead for ill.

Therefore, a knight's journey is one of accepting themselves and accepting their duty to better the world. It is about coming to terms with their own insecurities and learning to rely on others. It is about learning to take responsibility, and accepting the banner of a just and glorious cause.

A fully realized knight will be the center of every charge, the guiding star behind which the other players rally. They can provide clarity and guidance to those still on their journeys, and peace and comfort to those who are struggling or in pain. Where the knight goes, the party will follow, as a unified and united front.

MAIDS (+), meanwhile, tend to be on the backlines. If the knight is the forward march, then the maid is the supply line, an incredibly vital role whose absence is disastrous, even if its presence is nearly invisible. Maids have a nearly infinite well of their aspect to distribute, and are uniquely talented at managerial duties - keeping players on task, patching up the holes in a plan, sourcing and supplying resources, so on and so forth.

This is not to say that maids are relegated to support roles - a maid is usually capable of holding their own in combat just fine, especially if they've been endowed with a more combat-suited aspect. Both knights and maids are extremely versatile. That being said, maids truly shine when they're able to take on these backline roles, and many maids are more noticeable by the devastating effects of their absence rather than the invisible touch of their presence.

However, they are the class that most often starts in subservient conditions - low status, strict duties enforced upon them, so on - and their personal journey is a constant struggle against the control of others. Maids whose parties fail to grapple with and undo these shackling forces will find their maids succumbing to the influence or control of malicious entities; in the worst-case scenario, a maid can become an actively hostile enemy or saboteur, invisibly pulling the party's strings and setting them up for failure.

Therefore, a maid's journey is about rejecting societal oppression and throwing off the chains that bind them. A successful maid rises to become the head of the household - nothing occurs within the game that does not first pass the maid's inspection, and their touch ensures that there is a place for everything, and everything is in its place.

A free maid, who belongs to themselves, incomparably increases a party's efficiency. Every communication line is clear, every distribution route is clean, every mystery is solvable, and every plan is airtight. A maid guarantees that nothing can ever go too wrong.

PAGE - / HEIR +

TEAM BONDING

one who must earn [aspect] or inherits the mantle of [aspect] / one who is beloved by [aspect] or awakens to [aspect]

PAGES (-) start the game with the fewest benefits from their aspects, but the greatest potential for growth. Theirs is a constant battle with the self; they are often cowardly and naive. They possess sensitive souls, and while it is incredibly easy to hurt a page, it's much more difficult to build them up. Because of the difficulty of raising this class, it's practically defined by its journey - a constant struggle against the self - rather than its destination, and the powers the class confers.

Pages, like heirs, are classes of inheritance. A page is promoted by trials and tribulations and comes to inherit a greater power than they begin with; in the same way, the class will one day come to embody its aspect, although the road will always be turbulent and long. Moreover, it is a journey without end; pages, being as sensitive as they are, are the most prone to backwards progress, even after reaching their peak.

They prone to staying weak throughout the entire game, never self-actualizing past being the party joke. They attract the obsession and ridicule of stronger-willed players, and their mistreatment can become extremely divisive. A page can easily become a party's albatross, the epicenter of massive interpersonal conflicts, which can tank an entire session.

Therefore, a page's journey is one of the most difficult of all - that of teaching others how to care about other people. Pages rely on great patience, kindness, and understanding. Their sensitive souls must be carefully nurtured and propagated with love and attention. In the same way that a page can tear a team apart, they can bring a team together, all in the name of compassion and empathy. A fully-realized page is the symbol of a party that has linked hands with one another.

Self-actualized pages, as a result of the difficulty inherent to the class, are incredibly powerful and versatile when fully realized. Inheriting the mantle of their aspect, they become pure embodiments of their aspect, capable of achieving impossible feats of raw, unfiltered power, and inspiring all those who gaze upon them.

HEIRS (+) begin the game very strong, but have a difficult time becoming stronger. This is because their usage of their aspect is very instinctual to them, even at times being entirely beyond their control, hence, "beloved by" in the class description. However, because of how naturally their aspect comes to them, it makes taking further command of their powers difficult.

An heir "awakens to" their aspect because their natural, intuitive control often renders them too comfortable to grasp the greater implications of their class. As an inheritance class, heirs can come to embody their aspect, transforming entirely into it. Their challenge lies in breaking out of their comfortable shell and learning how to utilize their powers in more active, intentional ways.

This is reflected in their personal quests. They are often set to inherit great privilege or wealth prior to entering the game, and are thus naive to the realities of the suffering and pain of others. Without a supportive party willing to challenge their views, heirs can perpetuate that pain by submitting to their place in the world, becoming a divisive force within the party, or, in the worst case, losing themselves to their inheritance, and submitting so wholly to their aspect that they become lost to the rest of the team.

Thus, an heir's journey is to question the stratification of the society they belong to, so that they can recognize and address its flaws. They must learn to interrogate their inheritance, separate it from themselves, and reconcile with it. Theirs is an arc of examination and understanding, descending from their position of privilege and peace to learn about the suffering of others, and deciding that they wish to do something about it.

With full command over their aspect, and a clear vision for how it ought to be distributed, the party gains a new and powerful ally - the aspect itself, which will come to embrace the entire party as family. A fully-realized heir connects the privileged and underprivileged, spreading their inheritance to all.

MAGE - / SEER +

GUIDANCE

one who invokes [aspect] or is drawn to [aspect] / one who comprehends [aspect] or is guided by [aspect]

MAGES (-) are a class of prophets, although saying they "see the future" is misleading. Rather, mages "invoke" the future, collapsing causality to align to their desires. Most mages remain unaware that they are doing so until well into their journey. While all players weigh on the scale of causality, affecting both past and future events, and which sequence of events is the "alpha" sequence, mages have the most direct effect.

Because of this ability to invoke future events, mages possess powerful buffing/debuffing abilities. Furthermore, as one of the two knowledge classes, a mage usually has a very deep understanding of their aspect, and an intuitive knowledge of how the flow of time and causality function. They are "drawn to" their aspects in this way, instinctively searching out points where their influence can affect the flow of events.

However, with great power comes great cost; the mage class is usually assigned to those who are stricken by tragedies and prone to negativity and self-loathing. Mages often begin the game as a detriment to the party, "prophesying" future events that leave the party - including themselves - at a disadvantage. In the worst case scenario, a mage can invoke certain doom for their party or themselves.

Therefore, it is vital that a mage address their tragedies and be given a chance to heal and grow. The ones most struck by tragedy, theirs is a journey of reclaiming lost joy and rediscovering lost hope. However, the transformation is powerful once completed - as the one who suffers tragedy and loss most intimately, a mage can also come to be one of the most empathetic and compassionate members of the team.

If a mage is uplifted, and capable of believing in a kinder and gentler world, then their ability to invoke the future - and the aspects of their aspect that they are drawn to - become kinder, as well. Pain and suffering still have their place, but the ending will be a happy one. With a fully empowered mage, the future will always be better than what came before.

SEERS (+) see multiple branching paths. A mage determines where a road will be built, but a seer tells you where a road CAN be built. They are also often gifted with knowledge of the game and its mechanics, and are especially uniquely gifted with understanding of their own abilities. In this way, they "comprehend" their aspect.

Seers themselves are not particularly gifted in combat through their classpect alone; however, in exchange, they often play a vital role in steering the party. They are the game's built-in guides, with an intuitive knowledge of the game's victory conditions, as well as an instinctive desire to lead others along their paths. Seers are, therefore, one of the most important classes in the game, when one is present.

However, the ability to see is a burden as well as a gift. Seers find themselves paralyzed by choice, and often doubt their own abilities to choose "correctly." They are prone to becoming mired in what-ifs, and struggle with political or ethical debates with no clear answers. In the worst-case scenario, a seer may feel so cursed by their sight that they self-destruct, and deliberately choose poor or incomprehensible answers, in an attempt to free themselves of their sight.

Thus, a seer's quest is, ironically, to see the world beyond the purview of their aspect. They must come to have a more comprehensive understanding of the world they live in, and what purpose they are trying to achieve, so that they can feel confident in the choices they make. A seer is often blind - their journey, therefore, is that of regaining their vision, by connecting with the world outside their inner sight.

A seer with a clear vision for the future will always know exactly which path to choose. A party with such a seer in it will never be stuck and never be lost. If there exists a path to self-actualization, the seer will know it. And if there exists a path to a breathless and perfect victory, a fully-realized seer will light the way.

THIEF - / ROGUE +

UTILITY

one who steals [aspect] from others or steals with [aspect] / one who steals [aspect] for others or steals from [aspect]

THIEVES (-) are a very difficult class to play. They start out with almost no passive abilities regarding their aspect, and their ability to actively use their aspect is contingent on their ability to first "steal" it from someone else. Thus, they are always playing a game of resource management, and there is always a chance for them to be left helpless after a heist gone wrong.

However, their gimmicky nature allows them to overtake other classes even in that class's specialty, if they can set up the exact right circumstances and manage their resources well. This makes them incredibly versatile, especially when a thief is working together with a party, and thus able to count their party among their potential resources. It takes great cunning to play the thief class well.

However, this also makes the thief a potentially dangerous element to the rest of the party. Thieves are often egotistical and self-serving, willing to see enemies and allies alike as resources and tools. Unaddressed, their reckless, selfish natures will earn their teammates' distrust and enmity. In the worst case scenario, a thief running rampant can severely harm the party, or earn so much ire that the party turns against them.

Thus, their journey is that of realizing that their selfishness and ego are flaws - the classic parable of "money doesn't bring happiness." Beneath their uncaring surface lurks genuine emotional distress; a thief must come to realize that their greed and selfishness is an active detriment not only to the people around them, but their own selves. Only then can they heal from their injured souls.

A thief that has undertaken this journey is one who has realized that they are stronger when they are working with others. Their versatility, creativity, and cunning are incredible assets once harnessed toward the will of the party. No situation will ever be inescapable, no safe uncrackable, and no problem unsolvable - not if the thief has anything to say about it.

ROGUES (+) are similarly difficult to play. Unlike the thieves, rogues do see passive benefits from their aspects. However, their active abilities are much less straightforward, and rogues often struggle with understanding them. A rogue's role is to redistribute wealth - thus, "stealing for the sake of others."

A rogue, being able to steal directly from their aspect, truly shines when given enough time to prepare. If a thief must fly by the seat of their pants, then a rogue is a heist planner - they have an infinite box of tools to pull from, if only they know what tools they'll need for the job. This makes them incomparably versatile, even if not necessarily in the heat of combat.

Rogues take on the mantle of challenging the status quo. They usually begin the game already in opposition to their society, seeking out better alternatives and considering unorthodox options. However, not every party is ready for a rogue's radical ideology, and not every rogue has considered the full consequences of their belief in change; in the worst case scenario, the rogue can become outcasted and disregarded, or cause an upheaval that proves disastrous, rioting for the sake of rioting.

It often requires the help of others for a rogue to understand how to use their powers. In the same way, it requires the party's honest communication and exchange of ideas to help a rogue grasp exactly what form their rebellion ought to take. A rogue knows instinctively that something must change; their journey is learning how they ought to go about it.

Once they do, a rogue - given enough time to prepare and plan - is the ultimate utility player, having the right tool for every possible situation. Their abilities are only magnified in a party setting, as their teammates become variables that unlock new possibilities. A party with a fully-prepped rogue always has a perfect plan, a way to solve any problem that they might face.

WITCH - / SYLPH +

AREA CONTROL

one who manipulates [aspect] or achieves dominion through [aspect] / one who nurtures [aspect] or creates a land of [aspect]

WITCHES (-) carry with them the winds of change. A witch manipulates, changing properties of their aspect and their aspect's effect on others, creating a "territory" over which they rule. They see few passive benefits of their aspects, in exchange for their active abilities being so all-encompassing and overwhelming.

Once their territory has been established, witches make the rules. Their changes can be permanent, temporary, massive, and miniscule. However, a witch "achieves dominion" with their aspect - this means that they must first struggle to create this domain, and it's difficult for their abilities to manifest until they do, often leaving younger witches weak and vulnerable.

Witches have strong feelings for how things should and should not be, but not necessarily grounded ideas for how to implement them, often due to some "outsider" status in society. Unfocused witches become dangerous for the party, as they are easily manipulated; in the worst-case scenario, they can fall in with malicious forces, who can sway a witch's turbulent heart and utilize them as a force for negative change, rather than good.

Thus, a witch's journey is that of interrogating right and wrong. A witch must struggle with morality and ethics, and come to clarify their own beliefs; only then can they know what sort of domain they wish to establish, and what sort of rules they wish to enforce. Once they know their own hearts, they can shake off the insidious whispers of malicious external influence.

As if a reward for their struggles for autonomy and independence, the witch is the one whose will is most imposed on the world that comes after them. Just as an evil witch putrefies the world around them, a fully-realized witch who has decided to use their influence for good can create a near-utopia.

SYLPHS (+) call to mind the images of fey folk who sprout plants where they walk. That is how a sylph "creates a land" of their aspect - merely by existing, the world around them becomes suffused by it. A sylph's mere presence nurtures, grows, and heals their aspect; unlike witches, who manipulate what is already there, sylphs can create something from nothing.

The establishment of their domain comes naturally to them. Those caught within it are on the receiving end of their aspect, whether they want to be or not. In exchange for such powerful passive abilities, a sylph's active abilities are weaker, and usually unsuited for solo combat, generally being of healing, buffing, or debuffing nature.

A sylph is prone to selfishness - to luxuriating within their own land, their own aspect, their own mind. They often have difficulty connecting with others and understanding why their own personal world may not be to the liking of the world outside of themselves. Often, they are aloof. An unrealized sylph can cause great harm to the world around them, their domain choking out and smothering their party; in the worst case, they can mire their party within it, leaving their party unable to proceed.

Thus, it often requires the outside world to breach their safe haven in order for a sylph to grow. They must be made uncomfortable, and then made to accept that uncomfortable things are also important - maybe even more important than comfort, at times. Growth often requires pruning; a sylph's journey is to come to understand that good intentions may lead to harm, and, vice versa, that harm can often lead to true growth.

Sylphs can provide the greatest compassion and emotional comfort within a party, encouraging - if not enabling - their teammates' growth in their personal journeys. Once a sylph understands when it is appropriate to encourage, and when it is appropriate to pull back, there is no refuge safer for the party than the sylph's domain.

PRINCE - / BARD +

OBSTACLE REMOVAL

one who destroys [aspect] or destroys with [aspect] / one who allows the destruction of [aspect] or allows destruction through [aspect]

PRINCES (-) possess the ability to annihilate, a destructive class not limited to physical or tangible objects. Princes also enjoy auxiliary benefits as befits their royal titles - many princes start the game with great talents, great status and wealth, or both. They are also endowed with royal presence; their very existence provokes strong emotions from those around them, for good or for ill.

One of the more straightforward classes in the game, a prince's ability to destroy most commonly manifests as DPS. However, their abilities encompass a greater scope than mere damage - the prince's ability to annihilate figurative or metaphysical concepts makes them capable of directly removing any obstacles that stand in their way. As if hungry to consume their aspect, they are naturally drawn towards where it congregates.

However, with great power comes great responsibility: princes are often the most psychologically maligned within the party, and their destructive talents can very easily become self-destructive instead. Usually the result of societal pressure, trauma, and suffering, a prince is prone to embodying the lack of their aspect, rather than its presence. In the worst-case scenario, a prince spreads this misfortune to the rest of their party, destroying the presence of their aspect from their session altogether, often taking themselves along with it.

A prince must be shown compassion. Though they are often viscerally unpleasant to engage with, turning a blind eye to foolishness, loneliness, and suffering - which a prince embodies - is one of the worst things that a party can do. Though the effort at times seems undeserved, to heal a prince requires a staunch belief that there is good to be gained if we are kind to each other. This kindness will be returned; once you are counted among a prince's "people," they will do anything to keep harm from befalling you.

A prince, once shown this grace, is incomparably powerful. To destroy their aspect or with their aspect is the ability to destroy nearly anything, including concepts such as despair, death, and doom. As if proclaiming a royal decree, a fully-realized prince can banish misfortune and ill tidings altogether, leaving nothing standing in the party's way.

BARDS (+) are a wildcard of a class, often responsible for a party's improbable victory, abject defeat, or both. Their abilities are not very well-understood, even by the bard themselves, and they often utilize both passive and active abilities intuitively, unaware that they are doing so. The morale of the party is deeply tied to the bard's own, and it's unclear which side is cause and which is effect.

The ability to allow the destruction of their aspect, or invite it through their aspect, is actually something of a debuff rather than DPS - the bard's ability is to break unbreakable shields, tear down unclimbable walls, and nullify unstoppable forces. Rather than dealing damage themselves, they allow for damage to be dealt that would otherwise have no effect - in other words, by nature, they make the impossible possible. This is the true source of their ability to evoke "miraculous" situations.

Bards are inextricably tied to society - after all, their tales only hold as much value as their relevance to the audience. This means those with the bard class are invariably molded by the worst aspects of the society they come from. They serve as living embodiments of the most unpleasant aspects of society, and living reminders that leaving these elements to fester only means they will multiply in severity. If these beliefs are allowed to go unexamined, bards will always steer a party towards ruin.

Therefore, a party must engage with the bard earnestly, compassionately, and openly, and help them see the errors of the past. A bard must be led, with gentle guidance and genuine openness, to discard their harmful beliefs, and sing a new, more beautiful tune.

A bard that has been brought back into the fold is a worker of miracles. When every other possible option has been exhausted - the knight and maid in disarray, the page and heir unable to keep the party together, the mage and seer blinded, the thief and rogue out of action, the witch and sylph with their territory lost, the prince no longer able to function - this is where a bard will step in, transmuting abject defeat into a perfect and breathless victory.

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (18)

She never thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer and Y/n resolve their feelings. wc: 3k A/n: You have no idea how happy I am being able to write fluff after seventeen parts. SEVENTEEN. Only happiness from now on (which isn't much because sadly there are two parts left)

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

THE FIRST THING she became aware of was the constant noise ringing in her ears. The soft hum of the room greeted her as she slowly drifted into consciousness. Feeling slightly disoriented, she blinked her eyes open, adjusting to the muted light filtering through the half-closed curtains as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings.

Hospital. She was in a hospital. The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in the air as a sudden wave of panic threatened to engulf her, but then a gentle, calm voice cut through her confusion. Her gaze shifted to the side, and relief washed over her as she spotted Spencer sitting on a nearby chair, engrossed in the book he was holding.

For a moment, she observed him—the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the strands of hair that fell across his forehead, and the intensity in his eyes as they traced the words. His soft-spoken tone was soothing, and after a moment of listening to him, she realized he was reading the book aloud for her.

"...and with that, Sherlock Holmes deduced the mystery, much to the amazement of Dr. Watson," his voice filled the room, and she couldn't help but smile faintly at the choice of literature. She shifted in the bed, and the quiet rustle of sheets prompted him to look up from his book.

"Hey," he greeted softly, placing the book on the bedside table. "You're awake."

She responded with a nod, accompanied by a small, appreciative smile. "Sherlock Holmes, huh?"

"I found a copy in the waiting room. Someone must've left it," he explained. "Thought I'd borrow it before giving it to Lost and Found."

Her gaze lingered on the tired lines across his features. "And you decided to read when you could have slept?"

"I wanted to be here when you woke up again."

A soft smile adorned her face but her brows twisted into a frown as she registered his words. "Again?"

"You've been in and out of consciousness." He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. "The doctor said it's common among patients suffering from dehydration."

Her frown deepened, and the weight of the situation began to sink in as she processed his words. Her fingers unconsciously traced the edge of the thin hospital blanket for comfort.

"Is Eric..."

"He's injured, although not fatally. My shot wasn't aimed for anywhere vital," he explained, shifting his chair closer. "But he's in custody. You're safe now."

Relief washed over her, but a flicker of fear remained in her eyes. "I don't remember much after what happened."

"That's understandable," he said gently. "Your body and mind went through a lot. It might take some time to process everything."

She managed a weak nod and her eyes traced the outlines of the IV line snaking into her arm. "How long have I been here?"

Spencer glanced at the clock on the wall, his brows furrowing slightly. "About a day."

"A day," she repeated, the concept feeling both distant and immediate. The realization settled in and a pause hung in the air before her gaze shifted to him again, seeking clarification. "As in twenty-four hours?"

His face twisted into a frown, uncertainty clouding his features. "...yes?" he replied, unsure where she was going with this.

"And I've been sleeping for most of the time?"

"Well... yes."

"And you? How much have you slept?" When she was met with silence, her expression softened as her eyes took in his weariness. "Why are you still awake, Spencer?"

He sighed, a conflicted expression crossing his face. "I just... I didn't want to leave your side."

She studied him, her eyes tracing the lines of exhaustion that clung to his face. Deep lines etched across his forehead and the shadows underneath his eyes spoke volumes about everything he endured. The fading bruises, the slouch in his shoulders, and the tousled strands of his hair all painted a picture of someone who had weathered more than their fair share.

It was evident that even the hospital room had taken its toll on him, and the subtle change into a fresh shirt was his small attempt to regain a pretense of normalcy. But who was she to judge? Here she was, lying on the bed, all weak and worn out. She couldn't deny that she, too, must be presenting a less-than-picture-perfect image.

With a gentle sigh, Spencer eased into the chair beside her bed. "How are you feeling?"

She took a moment, assessing the sensations in her weakened body. The dull ache in her limbs, the lingering throbbing in her head.

"Like I've been hit by a truck," she finally responded with a smile, trying to ease the tension. But his head suddenly seemed to be elsewhere. He absentmindedly nodded, and it was clear to her that something was on his mind.

"Hey," she spoke softly. "What's wrong?"

He looked up, meeting her eyes, and she waited for his response. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and finally found the courage to speak.

"I'm sorry."

Confusion clouded her eyes. "For what?"

"For... everything." He let out a sigh. "For hurting you, for not being there when you needed help, for not realizing what was happening sooner. For not seeing the signs."

She shook her head. "You can't blame yourself. You were there when it mattered, and you saved me."

"But I should've protected you from the start," he insisted, his eyes searching hers for understanding. "I should've stayed with you—"

"It's not your fault. Don't apologize for something that he did."

"But I could've prevented it from happening if I didn't leave your house in the first place."

She studied him for a moment before letting out a sigh. "Look, if you're going to keep on apologizing, might as well do it in comfort." She shifted over on the bed, making room between them. "Come here."

His gaze flickered between her and the mattress. "I'm not sure that's allowed."

"What? Do hospitals have a policy against sharing a bed with visitors?"

"Well, technically—"

"Spencer," she interjected. "Just lie down with me. Please."

He hesitated for a moment, but after a brief internal debate, he relented, deciding that being close to her trumped any hospital regulations. Slowly, he settled onto the bed, careful not to disturb any wires or machines. But then she suddenly sat up and Spencer frowned. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Outstretch your arm."

"What?"

"Outstretch your arm," she repeated.

He followed her instructions, and she laid back down, resting on his arm. As she nestled against his side, he couldn't ignore the warmth that spread through him. He simply looked at her, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement when she kept pressing herself against him. His hand instinctively fell on her waist. "What exactly are you up to?"

"Testing a theory. I read somewhere that lying on someone's arm can regulate their heartbeat and help with stress. And given your guilt-ridden apology, it seems you could use a bit of stress relief." She then settled a hand over his chest. "But it doesn't seem like it's working, your heart is beating really fast."

He felt a blush creeping up his cheeks as her fingers traced gentle circles over his chest, the warmth of her touch sending ripples through him. "Well, you're lying unexpectedly close to me, I wasn't exactly prepared for that."

She laughed softly, the sound echoing in the quiet room. "Just... try to relax. You've been through a lot too. You don't have to hold yourself together for my sake."

He slowly nodded, letting himself sink into the moment with her. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest against his side, the gentle pressure of her hand over his heart. But guilt still rippled through him when he studied the weariness in her eyes, or the IV line sticking into her arm, or the bandage wrapped around her hand. He hated seeing her so weak that he couldn't help but blurt out another apology.

"I really am sorry."

She shifted slightly, turning to look at him. "I know you are."

"I wish I could have done more to protect you," he continued.

She reached up, tenderly brushing a strand of hair from his face. "You did what you could with the information you had. No one could have expected what happened."

He sighed, and she continued to trace gentle lines across his face as they fell into a comfortable silence. But much to her dismay, it didn't last long when he suddenly interrupted their moment. "I... I have another apology."

She was the one who let out a sigh this time. "What is it now?"

"I..." he hesitated, searching for the right words as his eyes wandered around every corner of the room but on her. "I-I want to apologize for being rough on you that day when we... when we—you know."

She raised an eyebrow, amused at where this conversation was heading. "You mean when we had sex?"

He nodded and diverted his gaze away from her, looking slightly embarrassed. She laughed and cupped his face, forcing him to look back in her direction. "Why are you suddenly so embarrassed?"

His cheeks flushed a shade of pink as he met her gaze. "I'm not used to discussing these things so openly, especially when I feel like I mishandled the situation."

Her laughter softened into a warm smile. "Spencer, we were both in a difficult place that day, I wouldn't say you mishandled anything." She leveled her gaze on him. "I trusted you. I knew you weren't going to hurt me, which you didn't, and I can assure you that I enjoyed the sex very, very much."

"But I-I tied you," he insisted. "I used handcuffs on you. Handcuffs."

"Well, did it ever occur to you that I liked being tied? That I like it when you're in control?"

He studied her, and let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding when he fully registered she was being serious. "You do?"

She chuckled at his wide-eyed expression. "Yes, Spencer, I do. I thought it was very obvious." She gave him a smile, fingers tracing soothing patterns on his cheek. "But if it makes you feel any better, we can come up with a safe word."

"What's a safe word?"

His brows furrowed in confusion, prompting her to burst into laughter. She couldn't help but find his innocence endearing.

"It's something you say to stop or slow down during sex, especially if things get uncomfortable or overwhelming," she explained, her laughter subsiding.

"Oh," Spencer said, a hint of realization dawning on his face. "That makes sense."

She nodded, still smiling. "So the next time we explore our sexual needs, we can use our safe word."

There was a pause before he murmured, "Next time?"

Her smile faltered at his question. "Do you not want a next time?"

Noticing her sudden withdrawal, he placed a hand behind her, pulling her closer to him. "I want there to be a next time," he confirmed and sighed in relief when he felt her relaxing again. "You know, I just want to spend more time with you in general."

Her smile returned, warmed by the sincerity in his words. "Yeah?"

He nodded. "I want to take you to dinner."

"Dinner sounds lovely."

"And take you out on a date."

Her smile widened. "What kind of date do you have in mind?"

"Well, I was thinking of the museum. Or maybe the library." Then his eyes lit up with a hint of excitement. "There's also this planetarium I've always wanted to visit. Did you know that the planetarium nearby has one of the most advanced digital projection systems? It's supposedly a state-of-the-art projector that can simulate the night sky with incredible accuracy."

A genuine smile graced her lips. The excitement in his voice brought a sense of relief to her. It wasn't just a reaction to his enthusiasm about their planned date, but also the subtle transformation in his demeanor. He seemed more relaxed.

"That sounds amazing." And just because she couldn't stop herself from flustering him, she added, "But the real question is, will there be sex in this future date?"

Spencer's reaction was immediate, his face flushing with embarrassment. "Stop teasing me."

"I'm serious," she laughed, thoroughly enjoying his momentary discomfort. "I want to know what I'll be expecting."

He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "I guess... If you want to, then yes."

"Of course, I do, but I want to hear it from you." She grinned when he gave her a pointed look. "Spencer, you've given me more orgasms than I can count, why is it so hard for you to say the word sex?"

Spencer shook his head, attempting to brush off the embarrassment that lingered. "You're unbelievable." 

Despite his attempt to resist, there was a subtle twinkle in his eyes that betrayed the amusement he couldn't fully conceal. A reluctant smile stretched across his lips, and he finally conceded, "Yes, Y/n, we will have sexual intercourse in the future."

She laughed, the sound echoing in the room. "How romantic."

Her teasing expression softened into a warm smile, and Spencer couldn't help but be captivated by the warmth in her eyes. Feeling a surge of affection, he gently pulled her closer. There was a subtle shift in the air. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, she nestled into his embrace. But it was hard to fully linger in his arms when her IV line seemed to be getting in their way.

"Hold on, I think I have to turn around," she said, her fingers tracing the thin tubing connected to the IV. Spencer released his hold. "I should probably get off the bed."

"Don't you dare," she threatened, and turned to the other direction gracefully, adjusting herself without much difficulty. Once settled, she pressed her back against his chest and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her again.

"Better?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

She nodded, a contented smile on her face. "So much better."

Spencer held her a little tighter, and somehow, his hand found its way to hers, softly intertwining their fingers. He held on to her as if he didn't want to let go, as if the simple act of holding her hand offered a sense of grounding in the aftermath of everything that had happened. And with a contented sigh, she leaned back into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. She reveled in the moment because life had taken them through twists and turns, and yet, here they were—finding solace in each other's company. The warmth of his hold enveloped her like a protective shield, and for a fleeting moment, the worries that had weighed on her seemed to dissipate.

Gratitude swelled within her—a deep, heartfelt acknowledgment of this moment, of being alive, and of the shared embrace that grounded her to the present. 

"Hey, Spence?"

"Hmm?"

Her fingers gently traced over his hand, still intertwined with hers, savoring the connection that seemed to defy the odds. "Thank you for staying with me."

She felt a reassuring squeeze from his hand.

"I'm here for as long as you need me."

"Don't you think this is a little too much?"

Garcia threw Morgan a glare as they walked down the hospital corridor, her heels echoing in the narrowed space. Her eyes then shifted to the balloons in her hand, the container of freshly baked cookies she made in the other hand, and the bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers dangling from Morgan's arms.

"She deserves a warm welcome after what she's been through," she countered. "And it's my first time meeting her in person, I can't come empty-handed. That's so unlike me."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, sure, but we're just visiting. It's not a party."

Garcia huffed. "I believe in spreading happiness wherever I go. And besides, who wouldn't want flowers, balloons, and delicious cookies after being stuck in a hospital bed?" She looked over to the rows of the door down the hallway. "What room did Reid say she was in?"

Morgan glanced down the corridor lined with identical-looking doors. "Room 108."

Garcia led the way, her heels clicking purposefully as she cradled the balloons and cookies with a determined air. Morgan followed, still holding the bouquet, and couldn't help but shake his head at Garcia's unwavering commitment. As they approached the door, she paused to adjust her cookies and then knocked lightly on the door, only to be met with silence.

She turned to Morgan. "Do you think she's asleep?"

"I don't know." He pulled out his phone and tried to dial Spencer's number, only to be met with a constant line of ringing. "He's not answering."

"I think we should just go in."

Morgan hesitated for a moment, then nodded in agreement. Garcia took a deep breath and gently pushed the door open, stepping inside. The room beyond was dimly lit, with the curtains drawn, followed by the soft hum of medical equipment filling the air. It seemed like an ordinary hospital room, but what seemed out of place was the sight before them.

Because Spencer lay on the bed with her, both peacefully sleeping.

"Oh my god," Garcia gushed, stepping further into the room. “Oh my god.”

Morgan couldn't help but wear a surprised smile. "Well, that explains why he wasn't answering his phone."

Garcia carefully placed the balloons at the foot of the bed and Morgan followed behind her, setting the bouquet on the bedside table. She then motioned for him to place the container of cookies there as well before she held her hands together, watching the scene before them. "This is like a scene straight out of a romance movie."

Unable to contain her excitement, she took out her phone and snapped a discreet photo of them. Morgan shot her a disapproving look, but she just waved her hand dismissively and whispered, "It's for the memories."

"Come on," he insisted, grabbing onto her arm. "Let's leave these two to rest."

"One more picture!"

Garcia's voice echoed in the room, and Spencer stirred in his sleep. Morgan and Garcia stilled for a moment, holding their breath. They waited for another second, and thankfully, the couple seemed to be too deep in slumber to hear the commotion in the room.

Morgan gave Garcia a pointed look. "That's enough, Garcia. Let's go."

"Give me a minute,” she lingered. “Let me take one last video."

Morgan shook his head. He took her phone out of her grasp, ignoring her protest, and finally dragged her out of the room—leaving the two lovebirds behind.

>> NEXT PART

a/n: that last scene is kind of a bonus, I just thought it was cute

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[convolutings]

Look don’t get me wrong I love the PJO TV show. The cast is perfect and some moments that were added I absolutely loved. But… there are some things I felt were so well done in the book there was no need to change it and I’m a little disappointed by the adaptation’s version.

Some of these takes I saw from other people and it put into words what I was feeling so I’m just expanding on what they said.

1. Gabe could’ve been worse. We are supposed to get mean Smelly Gabe vibes and Sally isn’t supposed to feel comfortable standing up to him. I understand “girl boss” and disneys restrictions but it still wasn’t great. I’m hoping they add something towards the end so his murder feels deserved.

Edit: upon a rewatch I take this back and believe Gabe was still abusive, if not physically as in the book, but as manipulative and demanding which is still abuse so I actually appreciate the changes they made now.

2. Sally felt off. Like they read her plot points but didn’t understand her character. She is wholesome and kind and devoted to Percy. The Sally we know never would’ve put that much pressure on Grover, plus him putting the pressure on himself is vital to his character. They also made her seemingly pine for Poseidon. They shouldn’t have changed the way she described her relationship with him and the choices she made to keep Percy safe. (I will say though that the Jesus joke was perfect and hilarious)

Edit: upon rewatch I still believe the wholesomeness was lost a little but I have come to like her character more and think these changes allow for greater depth into Sally’s story which I’m excited for.

3. We should’ve gotten Percy remembering the warm glow of Poseidon. I thought it was important that Poseidon broke the rules and came to see Percy when he was a baby and had that memory.

4. Percy thinking that Annabeth looked like a goddess when he first saw her was so cute and said a lot about how he viewed her. I think they should’ve kept it.

5. I think Luke being the one to guide Percy around the camp was a great choice, but Annabeth should’ve been part of welcoming scenes. And Grover should’ve been the one to tell the story of Thalia.

Edit: Episode 3’s reveal of Grover’s story was genius I take this back!

6. The claiming in the book was perfect! There was no reason to change the dialogue or have the trident not be the way it’s originally described. And seeing the campers reactions/having them bow down was important. I was underwhelmed tbh.

7. Percy is SMART! He was the one to put together that Sally was alive and agree to the quest in order to get her back. There was no reason for Grover to be the one to do it.

Otherwise it was wonderful. I still love it immensely and the care into the heart of the show I feel is still there. I can’t wait for next week!

And yes, I know Rick wrote the episodes and was a part of every single choice that was made so if he wants to leave something out obviously he knows his story the best this is just my opinion.

[perpetuallydaydreaming]

stop flirting with the nurse, it’s embarrassing.

it’s hard to act cool if james’ beautiful, hot nurse can hear his heart rate.

tags: james potter x gn!reader,, modern au,, hospitals,, nurse!reader,, remus pov,, melodramatic sirius and peter,, fluffy,, crack(?),, short around 1.3k wc,, no mentions of y/n

a/n: contrary to the title, there are no flirting just james being awkward lol,, i have no idea about the process of how vital checking goes sorry,, finding photos for this probably took longer than writing the fic itself rip.

it is to be noted that remus, resignedly, accepted it was only a matter of time before james got hospitalized for his recklessness.

now, with sirius and peter on either side of him, they wait for james to gain consciousness from his surgical procedure. it was a minor one, hardly one that needed 24/7 surveillance that sirius begged him to be a part of nor is the blubbering phone call from peter about james dying. the doctors even said he could be discharged the same day, if he woke up within the hour or so.

but remus is nothing but a people-pleaser. so, he stayed to watch over james as sirius requested and comforted peter that their loud, obnoxious (/fond) friend will wake up soon.

the room ridiculously quiet, a word rarely used as an adjective if they were involved, but it was. the only sound in the room, is the constant slow stream of the heart monitor and james’ soft breathing. remus can attribute this peace that the unnecessarily frantic and ballistic duo has now gone to sleep on the hospital’s stiff couch.

your head poked in first through the curtain before offering the gentlest smile and a silent request for you to come closer. you had been nothing but kind and attentive, to the point you were somewhat spoiling his overdramatic friends and their bemoaning about death and pain.

acknowledging their concerns with facts, reassurances, and empathic smiles. though he couldn’t miss the twitch of your lips as you try and stop, what remus imagines is a bellowing laughter at their dramatic reactions over james’ “demise.” not that remus blames you if you did let out a little laugh, it was getting theatric for a simple, small, and successful surgery. but he understands that professionalism comes first, such reactions might not be appropriate.

“well, everything seems fine here. your friend should be waking up anytime soon, if he does, don’t hesitate to ring us over so we can have him checked and he can be discharged. but before i leave the room, do you want me to do anything for you, any questions or concerns?” you say, voice gentle and firm

“no, we’re good, thank you.”

you nodded and gave a pretty smile, “okay then.”

you adjusted the curtain to close it fully, giving a stirring james and the sleeping visitors some privacy.

it wasn’t long before james woke up, groaning and stretching as if he had just been napping. albeit, a little delirious still, from the anesthesia no doubt.

he had opened his eyes now, unnaturally drooping and hazed, remus reached over and thwacked sirius and peter on their heads, “james’ awake.” he hums, giving nothing but an innocent looking smile as they glare for their rude awakening.

any sort of complaints from the smack quickly died out when they saw james, crowding over him and hugging him as if he’s been gone for 3 years and not 3 hours.

peter grabs james’ hands and recounts his experience of how he heard the news (from a text). at the same time with sirius exclaiming,

“oh, i’m so relieved you’re alright!” sirius cries, cradling james’ head to his chest, nuzzling through the knotted mass of curls to which remus only rolls his eyes at the theatrics of it all.

leaving remus no choice but to call you back into their section and have him checked for the last time.

“i’m fine,” james rasps, giving a sleepy smile and sluggishly patting both of the melodramatic thespians as comfort.

he looked fine, his hair no doubt knotted, his lips cracked dry but still rosy-cheeked.

when you arrived, sirius and peter have behaved themselves to sit down on the chair beside james’ bed. you slid the curtains fully, letting the light into their area. the fluorescent lights behind your head creating a soft halo as you kindly smile at james.

he looked to be stuck in a dazed trance. eyes still drooping but wider than when he first woke up, mouth slightly open, and body seemed to be frozen in place.

at first, remus thought of this due to the lingering effects of anesthetics but heard james’ heart rate steadily increase in speed.

the beeping machine seemingly louder now than before.

“hello, james. how are you feeling?” you hum, walking to go near him to do your routine check up.

the beeping seem to have picked up in speed as you neared his bed.

remus looked to the others to see if they noticed. the three of them, doing their best to cover their mouths to muffle their laughter.

“..’m fine..” james mumbled, starry-eyed gaze stuck to your face as you check his file and vitals.

“no pain? or headaches? any discomfort?” you ask, jotting down notes.

“jus’ perfect. ” he said, sounding a bit breathless.

the beeping was just going incrementally faster, the nearer you go to him.

you look at the monitor, face looking confused and worried all the same. “is it okay if i touch you? i’m just going to check on something really quick.”

the beeping stops for 2 whole seconds before continuing its raging beats. by now the three boys are having a field day, face red from the silent laughter and disbelief.

his heart literally skipped a beat, what even is this guy really? remus amusedly thinks to himself.

james couldn’t seem to say anything but give a measly nod. you grab your stethoscope, and listened to his raging heartbeat to see if anything was wrong. but james’ heart rate just seemed to have gained more momentum as you gently place your hand on his shoulder.

you move away, and slowly the heart rate slowed down, but still fast enough that you looked at him in slight concern.

“your heart rates a bit fast,” you noted, looking straight at him.

james’, oh sweet james, cheeks bloomed a glowing red and bashfully looked down.

you wrapped the stethoscope around your neck again and gave him a sweet, reassuring smile, “but other than that, everything looks to be in order. i’ll bring over the papers you have to sign and then you guys are free to go.”

when you finally walked away, james heart rate seemed to slow down to the normal speed once more. lolling his head to the side, as he groans in utter embarrassment and self-loathing.

“what is wrong with me?” he groans, cheeks still aflame.

sirius smirks, “your usual weakness to utter babes, that’s what.”

“your heart was going so fast i thought it was going to pop.” peter gushed laughing.

james playing with his starchy blanket, muttering lowly, “you think the pretty nurse heard that?”

the boys snorts out a laugh,

“i think the whole bloody hospital heard it mate,” remus cackled.

you came into view again, attending to another patient checking their vitals. offering the same kind of glowwy smile you gave them not a minute ago.

and because james just loves torturing himself, his gaze lands on you again. the same dazed look, body frozen but his eyes actively following your every move. the boys heard his heart rate—the beeping sounds picking up again.

this time sirius couldn’t stop his bark of laughter, causing you to look over them, curious.

your gaze connecting with james for a solid second.

they heard the monitor give another long pause before resuming its fast beeps. remus shook his head laughing, telling you not to worry.

you give remus a small nod, before looking over at his flustered friend, giving james a smaller, but somehow the sweetest smile you showed all day and abashedly looking away.

and james looking undeniably enamoured by your brief exchange. letting his tongue wet his dry lips as a giddy, rather boyish smile erupts from his face.

hopefully, this doesn’t give james more reason to be reckless and get himself admitted to the hospital more often. but if he does, at least it’ll be a funny story.

[autisticandroids]

i've been seeing ai takes that i actually agree with and have been saying for months get notes so i want to throw my hat into the ring.

so i think there are two main distinct problems with "ai," which exist kind of in opposition to each other. the first happens when ai is good at what it's supposed to do, and the second happens when it's bad at it.

the first is well-exemplified by ai visual art. now, there are a lot of arguments about the quality of ai visual art, about how it's soulless, or cliche, or whatever, and to those i say: do you think ai art is going to be replacing monet and picasso? do you think those pieces are going in museums? no. they are going to be replacing soulless dreck like corporate logos, the sprites for low-rent edugames, and book covers with that stupid cartoon art style made in canva. the kind of art that everyone thinks of as soulless and worthless anyway. the kind of art that keeps people with art degrees actually employed.

this is a problem of automation. while ai art certainly has its flaws and failings, the main issue with it is that it's good enough to replace crap art that no one does by choice. which is a problem of capitalism. in a society where people don't have to sell their labor to survive, machines performing labor more efficiently so humans don't have to is a boon! this is i think more obviously true for, like, manufacturing than for art - nobody wants to be the guy putting eyelets in shoes all day, and everybody needs shoes, whereas a lot of people want to draw their whole lives, and nobody needs visual art (not the way they need shoes) - but i think that it's still true that in a perfect world, ai art would be a net boon, because giving people without the skill to actually draw the ability to visualize the things they see inside their head is... good? wider access to beauty and the ability to create it is good? it's not necessary, it's not vital, but it is cool. the issue is that we live in a society where that also takes food out of people's mouths.

but the second problem is the much scarier one, imo, and it's what happens when ai is bad. in the current discourse, that's exemplified by chatgpt and other large language models. as much hand-wringing as there has been about chatgpt replacing writers, it's much worse at imitating human-written text than, say, midjourney is at imitating human-made art. it can imitate style well, which means that it can successfully replace text that has no meaningful semantic content - cover letters, online ads, clickbait articles, the kind of stuff that says nothing and exists to exist. but because it can't evaluate what's true, or even keep straight what it said thirty seconds ago, it can't meaningfully replace a human writer. it will honestly probably never be able to unless they change how they train it, because the way LLMs work is so antithetical to how language and writing actually works.

the issue is that people think it can. which means they use it to do stuff it's not equipped for. at best, what you end up with is a lot of very poorly written children's books selling on amazon for $3. this is a shitty scam, but is mostly harmless. the behind the bastards episode on this has a pretty solid description of what that looks like right now, although they also do a lot of pretty pointless fearmongering about the death of art and the death of media literacy and saving the children. (incidentally, the "comics" described demonstrate the ways in which ai art has the same weaknesses as ai text - both are incapable of consistency or narrative. it's just that visual art doesn't necessarily need those things to be useful as art, and text (often) does). like, overall, the existence of these kids book scams are bad? but they're a gnat bite.

to find the worst case scenario of LLM misuse, you don't even have to leave the amazon kindle section. you don't even have to stop looking at scam books. all you have to do is change from looking at kids books to foraging guides. i'm not exaggerating when i say that in terms of texts whose factuality has direct consequences, foraging guides are up there with building safety regulations. if a foraging guide has incorrect information in it, people who use that foraging guide will die. that's all there is to it. there is no antidote to amanita phalloides poisoning, only supportive care, and even if you survive, you will need a liver transplant.

the problem here is that sometimes it's important for text to be factually accurate. openart isn't marketed as photographic software, and even though people do use it to lie, they have also been using photoshop to do that for decades, and before that it was scissors and paintbrushes. chatgpt and its ilk are sometimes marketed as fact-finding software, search engine assistants and writing assistants. and this is dangerous. because while people have been lying intentionally for decades, the level of misinformation potentially provided by chatgpt is unprecedented. and then there are people like the foraging book scammers who aren't lying on purpose, but rather not caring about the truth content of their output. obviously this happens in real life - the kids book scam i mentioned earlier is just an update of a non-ai scam involving ghostwriters - but it's much easier to pull off, and unlike lying for personal gain, which will always happen no matter how difficult it is, lying out of laziness is motivated by, well, the ease of the lie.* if it takes fifteen minutes and a chatgpt account to pump out fake foraging books for a quick buck, people will do it.

*also part of this is how easy it is to make things look like high effort professional content - people who are lying out of laziness often do it in ways that are obviously identifiable, and LLMs might make it easier to pass basic professionalism scans.

and honestly i don't think LLMs are the biggest problem that machine learning/ai creates here. while the ai foraging books are, well, really, really bad, most of the problem content generated by chatgpt is more on the level of scam children's books. the entire time that the internet has been shitting itself about ai art and LLM's i've been pulling my hair out about the kinds of priorities people have, because corporations have been using ai to sort the resumes of job applicants for years, and it turns out the ai is racist. there are all sorts of ways machine learning algorithms have been integrated into daily life over the past decade: predictive policing, self-driving cars, and even the youtube algorithm. and all of these are much more dangerous (in most cases) than chatgpt. it makes me insane that just because ai art and LLMs happen to touch on things that most internet users are familiar with the working of, people are freaking out about it because it's the death of art or whatever, when they should have been freaking out about the robot telling the cops to kick people's faces in.

(not to mention the environmental impact of all this crap.)

[i-heart-hxh]

does ikalgo have deeper significance to killua's character? i get that hes like a new friend for killua but why does it feel like he was portrayed so importantly to killua's character during caa? its like theres a deeper meaning, why did killua go out his way just to save ikalgo from those two chimera ants when they entered the building? and why did he look so hesitant? he had thoughts that said "what am i doing..? why the hell am i going the opposite direction?" or something like that. idk it just feels like togashi was implying something abt killua there but i cant figure out what that is. do u have an idea?

Hello! This is a great question!

Ikalgo's friendship with Killua is vital both to Killua's development and also to Chimera Ant arc as a whole! I can explain that significance.

Throughout much of the series, Killua tags along with Gon and primarily focuses on him. He befriends other people, certainly, but he generally does this through Gon--it's not like he's going out of his way to make these friends on his own.

In Chimera Ant Arc, the connection between Gon and Killua gets somewhat disrupted by the events that happen, and Gon's focus shifts primarily to saving Kite and his revenge on Pitou, leaving Killua to worry and feel somewhat left behind and helpless (partly as a result of the the Palm situation as well).

When Killua splits off from Gon to try and save civilians, he meets and a battles an enemy at the time, Ikalgo.

During their fight, Killua gives Ikalgo a choice: Either sell out his friends by revealing their nen powers, or die. Ikalgo chooses to die rather than betraying his friends, and Killua is able to relate to this loyalty. He spare's Ikalgo's life and tells Ikalgo that if they'd met another way, maybe they could have been friends.

Killua's kindness in empathizing with Ikalgo and sparing him is the only thing that saves his life later when he's bleeding out from the needlefish darts. Had Killua not extended that mercy and said those kind words to Ikalgo, Ikalgo would not have saved him, and he would have died.

It's interesting/neat how the scene right after Ikalgo saving Killua from the needlefish involves Gon having his own encounter with another friendly Chimera Ant, and the tone of their conversation is quite a bit different:

Contrast is so important in Chimera Ant Arc!

Anyway, when Killua shows Ikalgo mercy, makes it clear that they're friends now, and invites him to come along and be part of the human side of the war, he essentially becomes to Ikalgo what Gon has been to him: Someone who represents light, and who represents a path forward to a better life. In this arc, Killua worries that he doesn't deserve a place at Gon's side, but at the same time here he extends the same kind of light and hope that Gon gave him to someone else.

As for the scene where Killua breaks off away from Gon in the Palace Invasion in order to protect Ikalgo, this continues to show Killua's world expanding outside of Gon. Notice how in this page, it clearly shows Killua leaving Gon behind--they have their backs to each other, which is a frequent image in this arc. His mission was to protect Gon and make sure Gon could complete his revenge against Pitou, so deviating from that mission is both shocking to him, and potentially dangerous, but it shows that he's starting to protect and care for others as well as Gon.

Now, I want to be clear that I see this as a positive step for Killua. At this point in the series, Killua had made Gon his entire reason for living, essentially, and him going outside of that and making other friends and protecting and caring about them is a vital step for his character. It's showing that he's becoming a more expansive, mature person who can care for multiple people (or ants) at once rather than centering his entire existence and sense of self around one person. He made this action as quickly and efficiently as possible so he could get back to Gon's side, but he did go out of his way and leave Gon behind momentarily, and even he is surprised by this.

And while obviously I adore his nearly single-minded love and devotion for Gon, with what happens between them in this arc he needs to have others in his life besides Gon, and it's part of his transition into also being the light for Alluka and Nanika. It's a result of Killua's own innate kindness and empathy and the choice he made to leave his previous life behind, but also, he was able to reach this point partly because Gon showed him the love and encouragement he needed to become the person he is.

Now, as for Ikalgo's role in the arc as a whole: He's part of a chain of kindness and mercy that ends up changing the entire outcome of the Chimera Ant arc. This post puts it incredibly well. The chain of kindness started at the beginning of the series, with Gon befriending and rescuing Killua in spite of his background, which then eventually leads to Killua sparing Ikalgo (who then saves Killua right back), and then Ikalgo sparing Welfin, and then Welfin giving Meruem Komugi's name so that they got to be together in the end. Ikalgo shows the consequences of Killua's kindness, which are also the consequences of Gon's kindness, in part.

A major theme of the series and of Chimera Ant arc is that love and kindness are transformative, and Ikalgo has such an important role in demonstrating that theme.

[pin-k-ink]

tacenda // fushiguro megumi

tw ⇢ hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, mentions of bullying, mentions of violence and injuries, megumi being bad with feelings, childhood friends to lovers, mildly suggestive content

wc ⇢ 19.2k

a/n: mauerbauertraurigkeit

Megumi's heart thundered in his ears as Gojo's words echoed through his mind. You, his childhood best friend and the person he loved with every fiber of his being, were going to be attending Jujutsu Tech. A cold sweat broke out along his spine as visions of your bright smile and warm, open gaze were immediately tainted by flashes of malicious curses, fangs bared and claws extended to tear into that radiant essence he cherished.

His throat constricted with panic, the metallic tang of fear coating his tongue. Shakily, he forced out a strangled denial. "There must be some mistake. She can't be here, she doesn't belong." In his mind's eye, he could see the innumerable ways this path, this world of darkness and death, could snuff out your brilliant light in an instant.

The thought caused his stomach to roil violently, memories of your steadfast presence during his most anguished moments searing the backs of his eyes like afterimages burned into his retinas. When Tsumiki had been cursed, her mind shredded by malignant magic, it was you who had held him through the agonizing nights. Your soft hands cradling his face, thumbs brushing away scalding tears, as you pulled his anguished cries against the steady thrum of your heartbeat. You were his shelter, his solace in the midst of this evil world's relentless cruelties.

Which was precisely why he couldn't allow you to walk this treacherous path where un-living nightmares dwelled, eager to extinguish any spark of warmth and hope that dared defy their shadowed existence. The thought of losing you too, of cradling your broken body as the transcendent radiance in your gaze flickered and went dark, it cleaved at his soul with rusted knives.

Gojo's piercing stare remained implacable as Megumi attempted to regain his frantic breathing. "Her power levels are unprecedented. She performed exceptionally on the interview." His teacher's tone brooked no argument, each word dropping like granite in the tomb-like silence between them. "She has potential...which means she's a target."

Nausea swamped Megumi in roiling waves, an arctic rime of dread encasing his vital organs. The things drawn to beacons of power in this wretched realm...they were abominations on par with his darkest, most anguished nightmares. To expose your brilliant, incandescent essence to such profane horrors was unthinkable, sacrilegious on the most visceral of levels.

"You don't understand," he rasped, dimly aware of the broken desperation tainting his words like blood in the water. Flashes of Tsumiki's hollow-eyed gaze and wasted form bombarded him in rapid succession, each ghostly image feeling like a vicious blow across his psyche.

"I've already lost so much to this world's evil," Megumi continued, each word tearing free from a throat constricted by the twin serpents of grief and terror. "I can't...I won't let that happen to her." His voice cracked on the final words, all of his anguished confessions and pleas strangled by the leaden weight of denial settling in his bones.

Gojo regarded him with an inscrutable expression for several beats, the weighted silence thickening until it felt suffocating in its immensity. At last, he released a sigh that held far too much weary resignation for Megumi's battered heart to withstand.

"Her choice has been made, Megumi," Gojo said, each word inflected with paradoxical gentleness and undeniable finality. "Attempting to circumvent that path will only incur far more suffering than allowing her to walk it."

The words were like a battering ram against Megumi's reinforced walls, reverberating through his entire being with sickening profundity. He shook his head forcefully, desperate to dislodge the intrusive acceptance, the horrifying reality being hoisted upon his shuddering shoulders.

"She's not ready for this darkness," he argued, voice rising in frantic urgency. "Y/N doesn't truly grasp the evil, the depraved monstrosities lingering in every shadow. She's too pure, too full of light. This path will break her!"

Unbidden, memories of your brilliant smiles and warm embraces surged forth in counterpoint to his panicked pleas. Your steady presence and indomitable spirit had been his bulwark through every hardship, illuminating even his darkest pits of despair. How could he not erect every possible barricade and shield against the encroaching evil that threatened to extinguish your vibrant essence?

"If you hinder her at every turn, you'll only destroy what you claim to protect."

Gojo's voice sliced through the tumult like a skillfully wielded blade. When Megumi raised his gaze to meet the other man's stare, the roots of raw truth driving his instructor's words cleaved him to his core. Denial was a seductive delusion; obstructing your chosen path held as dire consequences as permitting your steps down it.

It was an obliterating truth, one that reshaped Megumi's world into jagged shards which sliced deeper with every reverberation. To uphold either path meant embracing the annihilation of what he cherished most. But the promise of your survival, no matter how diminished or perverted, it glimmered with splintered rays of hope he could not relinquish.

And so it was with a fragmented heart riven by hairline fractures that Megumi swore himself to the merciless path - all in effort to safeguard the brilliant spark at your core. If robbing you of your radiant warmth, driving you into the barren chasms of loathing, was the price for ensuring your physical survival...then so be it. Anything to prevent your essence from being wholly extinguished by the depraved darkness stalking his footsteps.

From that fateful moment on, Megumi's entire world became an exercise in calculated brutality - each harsh word, acidic glare, and callous dismissal measured expressly to strip away at the brilliance of your spirit. He watched with shattered reverence as your warm, effusive smiles slowly twisted into pained grimaces under the relentless deluge of his verbal lashings.

"Pathetic stance, you're practically broadcasting your weaknesses!" he would bark, flinty disdain coating each syllable like jagged shards of glass. "Do you even want to be here or are you just wasting everyone's time?"

The hurt lancing across your expressive features with each barb unleashed was like a serrated dagger twisting in his already eviscerated heart. Megumi drank in the delicate downturned shape of your lips, the shimmer of unshed tears in those eyes that had once regarded him with such radiant adoration. Each fractured shard of vulnerability splintering free from your stalwart defenses etched itself into the fabric of his very being, scars mapped onto his psyche that would never fade.

Through it all, you weathered the merciless onslaught with that same stubborn persistence that had drawn Megumi's admiration and unshakable devotion all those years ago. No matter how scathingly he sneered and derided, you refused to surrender an inch of your fighting spirit. That blazing inner fire, so brilliantly incandescent it bathed the world in vibrant hues, could be battered but never extinguished entirely.

If anything, you burned all the brighter in the face of Megumi's vicious attempts at dousing your radiance. Like a platinum forge, you were heating to unbearable temperatures under the hammering blows of his abuse, essence glowing electric white as impurities were burned away. It was a sight of such breathtaking majesty that Megumi frequently found himself faltering, glacial shards of cruelty fracturing as he was consumed by the molten torrent of his love.

In those fractured instants, he had to exert every fiber of his being to resist reaching out, resist gathering you into his embrace and confessing the entire anguished truth. Of how your unparalleled light was the only force banishing the utter desolation of his shadowed world. How eviscerating his heart through acts of depravity against your soul was a torture rendering even the most sadistic curse techniques merciful by comparison.

But then the moment would pass, and he would be awash in visceral recollections of Tsumiki's tortured existence - a chilling reminder of what awaited those whose essence burned too bright in this realm of malicious spirits and depraved conjurings. The risk of that same perverse annihilation befalling your radiance was an obscenity he could not permit, no matter what profane rituals of self-damnation it demanded.

So on he pressed with his scorched-earth campaign against your warmth and vitality. Heedless of the lacerations each acidic remark and disdainful look inflicted upon his battered soul, Megumi marched relentlessly onwards. If hollowing out your dazzling spirit until just embers remained was the aberrant price for safeguarding your existence, then he would immolate them both on that profane pyre.

There were moments, often unbidden in the deepest thralls of night, when he teetered on the precipice of unbearable regret. Memories of your shared history, effervescent and golden, would crash over him in ruthless tsunamis of dying sparks. He recalled with searing clarity the first instant your paths had intertwined, that fateful day when the courteous overtures of childhood had blossomed into an unbreakable bond.

You had been the new student, painfully shy and soft-spoken in a way that inevitably painted a target on your back for the more aggressive children. Megumi had watched impassively at first as the bullies circled like sharks on the first day, dangling insults and petty cruelties intended to inflict the maximum anguish. That was, until one particularly vicious remark about your beloved stuffed rabbit had drawn forth an avalanche of crystalline tears from your downturned eyes.

Something deep within Megumi's childish psyche had clenched protectively at the sight, resonating with the helplessness and quiet grace of your sorrow. Before any of his classmates could register the uncharacteristic shift, he had inserted himself squarely between you and the tormentors - eyes blazing with a ferocity that momentarily shocked the bullies into stunned silence.

"Leave her alone," Megumi had decreed, hands curling into miniscule fists as he widened his combative stance. When the ringleader tried to bluster and shove past, Megumi had reacted with savagely precise strikes, dropping the larger boy to the ground in an unceremonious heap before any witnesses could properly process the altercation.

Cradling your stuffed companion to your chest, you had blinked up at Megumi with those luminous eyes, all traces of sadness supplanted by pure, sparkling wonder. In that fractured instant, something pivotal had shifted in Megumi's world - the blinding gravity of your incandescent essence searing itself into his very bones with smelting heat. It was a radiance he realized almost at once he would dedicate his entire lifetime to cultivating and protecting without reservation or exception.

Even now, years later with valleys of anguish and entire continents of suppressed trauma distancing him from that blazing genesis, Megumi could access its perfect clarity as easily as breathing. Some nights, he clung to those recollections like a drowning man seeking air, absorbing every shard of warmth and untarnished joy as starving lungs gulped down precious oxygen. Other nights, the pangs of nostalgia were flaying knives, slicing him asunder until he thrashed mindlessly in the agony of all he had knowingly shattered.

Those were the nights he would reach for his phone in the dim, ever-present glow of his bedroom. Fingers trembling faintly, he would pull up your contact and begin painstakingly typing out messages - abject confessions, anguished pleas, apologies and explanations and devastating truths all coalescing into a tangled thicket of words. He would pour his mutilated heart and soul into the grayed-out screen, keening silently into the void as the emotions he had mercilessly cauterized threatened to consume him whole from the inside out.

But he could never send them, could never risk fracturing the meticulously constructed quarantine separating your essence from the cataclysmic inferno of his all-encompassing feelings. To reveal even the barest slivers of vulnerability, be they pangs of devotion or agonized lamentations of loss...it was tantamount to erecting neon billboards advertising the precise location of what he valued most in this world. And in this plane of existence where any source of light and warmth was perverse antithesis to the pervasive evil, doing so would sign your immediate death sentence.

So instead, he would seal the damning words away, thumb hovering over the delete icon until his eyes blurred with the strain of unshed tears, his throat felt flayed and the skin of his palms was scored with crescent indentations. Only then, when every facet of the message had been permanently expunged, could he collapse back into the shredded remnants of his bedding and surrender to exhausted oblivion.

Each morning, he would awaken to a visceral melancholy laced with fractured determination. He was stripped raw, every emotional core exposed to flay against the whetted blade's edge of his self-ordained mission. Turning you caustic, weaponizing your hatred as a scourge to temper and erode your own inner brilliance, it was a vile perversion of all he cherished most. But one he would gladly immolate upon, if it meant preserving however scorched and diminished those sacred sparks remained.

So he hardened his resolve, locking himself into an upward spiraling cycle of brutality and rejection. He watched with hollowed anguish as your luminous smiles were slowly, inexorably eroded into rictus frowns under the relentless barrage of his verbal flayings. That stubborn fire in your eyes turned to banked coals, lambent glow dimming until it threatened to gutter out entirely under the choking fumes of his abuse.

Where once you had radiated warmth and kindness, like the welcoming glow of a hearth, now your essence emanated in icy increments - each interaction reinscribing the mantra to keep your distance, lest you risk being forever frozen out by the tundra wastelands of Megumi's demeanor. It was nothing short of psychological and emotional torture, each day chipping away another fragment of your bond until scarcely anything remained beyond hollowed familiarity.

Still, you persisted with that same tenacious drive, always picking yourself back up despite the maelstroms of derision blustering against you. At times, Megumi was gripped by a sense of pervading awe and pride so transcendent it momentarily unmuted the rabid chorus railing for your defenselessness. Your refusal to surrender so much as a molecule of that brilliant spirit, no matter how deeply he sought to submerge it beneath frigid waves of scorn, it was a feat of profound heroism.

And yet there were other instants, bleeding out into torrential epochs, where the sight of your resiliency evoked only soul-searing anguish. Each time he bore witness to you hauling yourself back into the fray, bruised but unbroken, his mind would instantly assail him with visions of your incandescence being cruelly, irrevocably extinguished. Images of your ethereal features contorted in agony, rivulets of vibrant lifeblood chasing crimson trails down abused skin. Your eyes, so bright and lambent, dimming to enfeebled clouded glass as every sacred molecule of light was leeched away, your essence defiled by the exact nightmares he was ostracizing you to protect from.

In those moments, rational thought abandoned him, his psyche throttled by the recursive loop of terrorizing visions and the stark lucidity of how his actions, his mission, only increased the probability of their manifestation. There was no justification nor easy absolution to be found in the dichotomy - only the yawning chasm of damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don't oblivion gaping ravenously to consume them both.

The all-consuming isolation compounded by his merciless excoriation of your bond, it was an unremitting torment more galling than any curse the vile spirits could inflict. And yet, for every fracture of your trust and love that sliced immeasurable depths into his very being, Megumi only honed the razor's edge of his cruelty with heightened fervor.

He knew, without an iota of doubt, that seeing this path through to its apocalyptic conclusion would unwind his entire existence until even the concept of self-identity devolved into meaningless detritus. But he would gladly accept that hellish reckoning, would rush headlong into the churning abyss with his arms flung wide in embrace, if it meant holding your light's dissolution at bay even a fraction of a heartbeat longer.

Because in the end, that was all that mattered. Not his own tattered remnants, scattered like viscera upon the sacrificial altar of his self-immolation. Only the guttering, infinitesimal sparks in the husk that had once been you.

As long as those glimmered on, held at embers against the entropy shrouding this calamitous realm...no butchery was too profane, no ritual self-mutilation too sacrilegious to withstand.

He would burn it all down without ceremony or regret if it meant you might someday rise from the shattered, smoldering ruins to blaze anew.

The descent into depravity accelerated at a dizzying pace from that point on. With every passing week, Megumi found his soul walling itself off further, emotional forges smelting away any vestiges of warmth until only an impenetrable basalt remained.

He observed the systematic deconstruction of your radiant spirit with a sort of clinical detachment - cataloging each incremental dimming of your luminous smiles and the fractures webbing across your unwavering determination. What had once been a brilliance potent enough to stave off the bleakest of his nights was now hardly strong enough to counter the pervading gloom lingering along the training hall's shadowed fringes.

Still, you soldiered on with that same steadfast resilience which had so utterly enthralled Megumi from the moment your paths first converged in blistering orbit. No matter how corrosive the lashings, how scorching the dismissals he pelted you with, your dogged persistence remained an indomitable bulwark. Like scaling the curved walls of a tidally-locked world, your essence just kept pushing higher, seeking out any infinitesimal cracks or fissures through which more light could blaze.

It was a futile effort, one that Megumi could hardly bear witness to without feeling each of his internal powering furnaces stoke dangerously close to overload. Because with every agonizing foothold you gained, scaling that little bit further up the obsidian cliffside, he was struck by overwhelming premonitions of your form silhouetted against the endless void. A brilliant crimson crosshair burning in the abject darkness, leading every starved horror across unfathomable expanses directly to your unguarded essence.

Those visions, so viscerally photorealistic that he could hear the predatory shrieks reverberating through Orion's scorched nebulae, were enough to divorce him almost entirely from any last wavering attachments of compassion or empathy. You would burn, absolutely and irrevocably, if he permitted even an ember of that smelting furnace to blaze fully unshielded against the depthless starvation of this depraved plane.

He had to extinguish it utterly; had to choke out those flames until all that remained were infinitesimal sparks suspended in spent ash, glimmering so faintly as to be utterly imperceptible to even the most ravenous spirit's senses. It was extinction of the highest, most profane order - the systematic unraveling of all that had made your essence so damn incandescent to begin with.

And if pulling that metaphysical thread caused the entire tapestry to unspool in smoldering heaps around you, Megumi was past the point of relenting or restraint. This path had been scorched into the deepest stratifications of his ruinous psyche. There could be no deviation or respite until the task stood complete.

The nights provided little solace or refuge in the face of such unflinchingly bleak determinations. Where once he had found solace in the crepuscular lull of quietude, a reprieve where he could exist untethered from the waking world's torments, now there was only a pervasive emptiness more desolate than the infinite vacuum arcing between galaxies.

Lying awake, sheets twisted around his feverish form like shrouds, Megumi found himself inexorably drawn towards those final guttering embers. His awareness telescoped with remorseless intensity onto each flickering shard of radiant memory he had so rigorously partitioned off behind scorched earth blast barriers of his psyche.

The soft luster of your hair haloed in the dying sunrays of some sleepy summer afternoon, gentle zephyrs coaxing loose strands into ephemeral arcs of gleaming accents. The way your starlit eyes had crinkled at the corners whenever he managed to coax forth that sunburst of laughter, source so warm and effervescent it threatened to liquefy his very marrow. Recollections of your skin's velvet softness beneath reverent fingertips, subtle thrums of vitality reverberating with each elevated heartbeat.

He pulled them tattered and unspooled into his consciousness like brightly-dyed weavings, sharp contrast against the charred desolation of his mindscape. Turning their prismatic facets, he analyzed them with surgical precision - documenting each shade and texture, every luminous aspect inherent to your transcendent light.

This was flight data, sensor metrics and cosmic sounding calculations - the quantified breakdown of a celestial body's essence unraveled into composite metrics so that the exact material alloy could be reconstructed, forged anew from whatever remnants might remain when the silicate dust finally settled. Insurance parameters self-encrypting, rendering them beyond the reach of whatever devastation might still be looming on the periphery.

Or so he told himself as he clawed at the tattered edges of his recollections, fingernails scoring bloody crescents across his temples as if the physical apertures could ever grant audible access to all he was so rigorously quarantining away.

In truth, these scarcely lucid rituals existed as nothing more than the final vapor trails of obsession arching across a pitch-black event horizon. For every shred of memory and ligature of sensation he coaxed into hyper-lucidity, another piece of his owns soul's blazing furnace was irrevocably smothered to charry ashes.

Like burning away the xylem and phloem just to preserve a single wilted flower petal, the cycle was unsustainable at its core. An incomplete picture, the data hopelessly scrambled by its very process of preservation. And still, with the frantic intensity of a madman, Megumi persisted - surrendering more and more of his own essence to maintain these fragmented relics while the whole of your light continued to wane.

The contradictions fractured his consciousness into scattering shards before embedding like armor piercings through his splintered awareness. Pulling you close enough to preserve your resonance, while similtaneously pushing you farther and farther away until the emitted frequencies fell beyond measurable range. It was a paradox clawing through his synaptic pathways with incandescent fury, laying waste to everything in its path until his entire corporeal form became a charred immolation zone devoid of alight spark or burning refuge.

But for all the collateral obliteration stamped into his mind's eye, for every scorched and dispassionate hierarchical tree subsumed by the searing inferno of his self-mutilation, Megumi never once considered an alternative axiom to chart. This was the sole vector etched into his being down to the sub-quantum architecture - an inviolable trajectory hewn into reality through scorched continuum dynamics.

While your spark guttered and dimmed, his would remain an active pheonix blaze - anchoring these rituals of meticulous annihilation and smelting away the very capacity for regret and respite until only tendrils of smoke and atmospheric particulate remained to carry the cycle's unwavering inertia.

On and on it perpetuated, until his every waking moment existed in dual simultaneities of excruciating preservation rites and systematic soul unbinding. Until the recollections and impulses that had once made your splendorous radiance so irresistible were downloaded as little more than fragmentary code to keep on endless recursion loop.

The wages of this path were immeasurable across all quantifiable spectra, from the biochemical to the theological and every dimension beyond. But such concerns held no gravity over Megumi, not when each fractal infinitesimal of your Light continuing to blaze through the abyssopelagic murk was worth every calorie of heat death actively radiating from his shredded form.

There would be no redemption or recompense for the cataclysmic undoings he had wrought upon himself and any remnants still tethered to his unraveling existence. Hells far more arcane and cosmically profound than any religion's dogma could conceive awaited their caustic reintegration beyond this anguished pyre of seared continuum.

But to Megumi's mind, such oblivions carried less dread than the visceral eventuality of your luminous spark being permanently extinguished before his tormented gaze. He would gladly set the whole of this corporeality, this so-called reality to purging flames before permitting your essence to be devoured by the ravenous terrors lurking in the periphery.

And so the cycle spooled endlessly onward, each revolution shedding more layers of conscience until only the basalt core of compounded obsession remained - burning away every other element, every contaminant that might restrict the searing beam of his self-ordained calculations. He had become Inertia itself, irresistible and singular in purpose as he hurtled them both inexorably towards a conclusion as inevitable as it was annihilating.

No force, neither celestial nor demonic, would deter him from this merciless trajectory. Your Light would perdure, calcified into immutable etchings if necessary, while his burned itself into cauterized oblivion across the whole of existence.

It was cataclysmic, it was terminal, it was inevitable.

And for your light's continuance, he would bear nourish this sacred, all-consuming blaze until his last embers winked out across the cosmic desolation.

The darkness ate away at the marrow of Megumi's soul with each passing day. With every cruel remark flung your way like sharpened obsidian, another fragment of his empathy withered and turned to ashen ruin. He watched as you weathered the ceaseless onslaught, that stubborn light in your eyes guttering but never fully extinguishing no matter how fiercely the gale-winds of his derision battered against it.

There was a perverse type of awe in bearing witness to your perseverance, your will to fight against the impervious current he unleashed. Like a solitary sapling standing tall against a hurricane's full fury, roots sinking deeper into the tempest-swept earth with every lash of punishing rain and gale. It simultaneously filled him with surging pride at your unyielding resolve... and penetrated him with lances of dread at the thought of you being battered apart by forces far more malicious than his own manufactured disdain.

So he pushed harder, lacing his words with venom concentrated enough to strip flesh from bone, desperate to force your retreat from this doomed path before the true nightmares took notice of your brilliance. Gone were any half-hearted critiques or fleeting hesitations born of fractured affection. He held nothing back, flaying every vulnerability and shortcoming without restraint or remorse.

"Worthless! That stance is more fit for a fledgling than a sorcerer of any caliber," he would snarl, nostrils flaring as he drank in your shuddering recoil with bitter satisfaction. "Or have you finally accepted your own insignificance and decided to simply roll over like the pathetic worm you are?"

Each syllable landed like a physical blow, driving the breath from your lungs in sharp, aborted gasps as you curled inward from the sheer ferocity of the barrage. Still you carried on, teeth gritting against the acidic words as you poured every ounce of defiance into locking your stance, subjecting yourself to merciless drills over and over until your body trembled with fatigue.

"Think you can counter that?" he sneered from the sidelines, observing your practice bouts with a harsh glint burning in his eyes. "Go ahead, try it - I'll bathe in your failure as I have a thousand times before."

It was cruelty woven into the fabric of his being, each filament reinforced with compound fractures of emotional lashings and disfiguring trauma until Megumi was hardly recognizable as the boy who had once orbited your warmth, hypnotized by its searing gravity. That part of him, the ardent heart which had sworn undying fealty to your radiance, it was being steadily calcified beneath layers of obsidian until scarcely a glimmer remained.

And still, you carried on. Maybe sensing the finality behind Megumi's monstrous depravity, recognizing the desperation fueling each successive blight against your spirit. Or perhaps it was simply blind stubbornness, a refusal to ever be diminished by toxic grievances that could never be undone or unsaid once unleashed. Either way, you weathered the maelstrom without flinching, dusting yourself off after each body-blow of derision to stand defiant once more.

Until one fateful day amidst an endless succession of them, when the fever pitched of Megumi's torment finally glimpsed the shredded state of your woven defenses just as they began to buckle. It started gradually at first, like the hairline cracks one might notice spangling across glass after repeated impacts.

He was watching from the periphery as usual, icy devastation at the ready to be unleashed the instant your form so much as faltered. Your hands were in constant gnarled claws of tension gripping practice blades, knuckles blanched and sheened with exertion as you threw yourself into the recursive katas with single-minded focus.

In that instant, Megumi's eyes were drawn to your palms as you repositioned your grip, glinting razor's edges of steel catching at delicate skin now as roughened and calloused as stone. Before he had fully realized what he was doing, a shock of recollection shuddered through his entire being - vivid and bright like a lightning strike searing across his vision.

Memories of those hands in their softest, most delicate incarnation, petite fingers laced through his own as you pulled him along on some childish adventure. He could still remember the buttery silk texture of them, unblemished and radiant with vitality, each placid pulse point thrumming with life's sacred rhythm. Caressing the tender buds of your knuckles had been a ritual of fealty and wonder, his entire world condensed to those tiny epicenters where your brilliance emanated most intensely.

Now though, the skin was cracked and abraded, marred by fissures and scoring from channeling powers and forces that should have remained foreign to their innocence. They were roughshod now, sandblasted talons bearing the calloused indignities of grueling self-flagellation against a world that should never have encroached upon their purity.

And yet, even as the shock of dismantling that cherished ideal shuddered through Megumi's psyche, you worked on undaunted. Face lined with determination, lips pursed around gritted teeth as each monotonous cycle drained more of your radiance away in increments, exchanging it for the hardened carapace of scars and discolored contusions.

A series of rapid movements saw the knife's edge arcing in a blur of motion...until an errant slip saw its razor kiss scoring a vicious gash across the bulge of your palm. Crimson welled up with obscene immediacy, sluicing across the lines of your lifeline in rivulets as vibrant and warm as newly spilled rubies.

Perhaps another time, the frantic splash across skin would have shocked you into gasping, eyes widening as you reflexively cradled the injured appendage to your chest. Because there had been a time, not so long ago, when the sight of your own blood carried the same visceral impact as witnessing the scathing of something sacred, profaned.

But not this time. This time, you merely steeled yourself with an impassive tightening of your jaw, shunting the pain to some remote compartment as you steadied your grip once more. Megumi watched with something bordering on horrified numbness as you forced yourself through the motions again, blade carving sinuous arcs through the empty air as warm lifesblood channeled down your wrist in unheeded rivulets.

If anything, the sanguine streaks only fueled your intensity - teeth gnashing in grim resolution each time the dense liquid coated another swathe of pale flesh, until your trembling form seemed wreathed in licking coronas of crimson ichor. It was a self-inflicted circle of depravity, compounded with every repetition as you bled yourself out onto the dojo mats in single-minded zeal.

The scent of copper hung heavy, unavoidable in its metallic pungence, mingling with the close humidity of exertion. With each ragged inhalation, Megumi felt the air grow steadily more viscous, more suffocating - preventing surcease from the vision of you systematically rending pieces of yourself away in commitment to this path from which he had sworn to divert you.

At some point, imperceptible through the roiling haze of his tormented conscience, your legs simply relinquished their capacity to keep upholding the self-immolation rites. Megumi's awareness fractured and isolated around the precise instant your slick palm lost its tremulous purchase on the blade's rain guard - sending the wicked steel tumbling from your grip as you collapsed with a muted groan of ruination.

He was frozen in place as you crumpled to your knees amidst the spreading pool of sanguine detritus, sanguine aura flickering with each ragged gasp as the full brunt of your grueling exertions finally, mercifully, found cessation. Dazed and trembling, you slowly turned your lacerated hands upwards, uncomprehending eyes blankly tracing every gouge and scoring that should never have been permitted to deface such sanctified innocence.

That was when your chin tipped upwards with torturous graduality, eyes sheening with a fractured film of shock and dismay as they found Megumi paralyzed in the periphery. For an endless, frozen instant, you simply stared - fractured and betrayed as the full immensity of what he had molded you towards came shudderingly into resolution.

And somewhere, deep in the vaporous ashes of whatever shredded remnants of his humanity persisted, Megumi felt the colossal weight of what he had wrought shattering down upon him with seismic force. This was his legacy, the culmination of every degradation and sacrilege committed in the name of preserving your luminescence. To watch as you shed pieces of yourself in ritualistic self-desanctification, rending away your effervescent shine until only the raw, bleeding framework remained.

Your shattered gaze speared straight through the dimensionless veil of his occlusion then, lancing across every waning continuum to pierce what little light still flickered at his core. And in the raw, visceral entropy of that moment, he could have sworn he felt its searing burn cauterizing straight through his undying obsessions, his self-ordained depravities...until the truth of what he had sacrificed stood in smelted relief.

This wasn't bravery or resilience or any other misattributed virtue that had kept you grinding away at your own essence. This was simply the burden of being sculpted into an instrument of immolation by the only force in your life that should have sworn undying protection. A mecurochromatic vessel purged of everything that had made you so incandescently radiant, reformed now into an empty husk whose sole purpose could only ever be oblivion.

The realization ruptured something deep within Megumi's fractured psyche, setting off a chain of decompressions and overloads that rapidly accelerated beyond his capacity to contain. Suddenly every ritual, every consecration enacted to preserve your light revealed itself as nothing more than compounded delusion fueled by his own solipsistic narcissism.

Not your warmth or your brilliance or anything intrinsic to the revered essence he professed his fealty towards...but rather a calcified, luminally-etched husk of such hallowed qualities fossilized into obsessive dogma as they were steadily syphoned away from the source. He had been mistaking the mask for the woman behind it, the fragile, flickering afterimage of your radiance for the sun itself until they were no longer even tangentially related.

And in that moment, everything collapsed inwards in a prismic, implosive rush of entropic finality. Megumi felt like he was watching himself being unmade on a subatomic level, particulates scattering across endless parallel infinities of lightless entropy as the inexorable forces of belief failure shredded his entire ecosystem of devotions and depravities into oblivion.

Not even the Heraclitean fires scorching through his soul could have stung with such all-encompassing immolation as your naked, betrayed stare in that breathless instant. Because it had accomplished what even his worst nightmares paled before - the utter dissolution of everything he had convinced himself his rituals were preserving.

Your light, warmth and radiance...it was absent from that unflinching, dispassionate regard. Bled out and cleared away in ceremonial cullings until only the extinguished, empty coordinates where it had burned so brightly remained to mock him with their profane vacancies.

He might have wept, might have crumpled under the weight of such soul-immolating revelation in any other instance. But this was the apotheosis, the singularity toward which his path had been inertially accelerating all along. The last vestiges of conscience and ethical precepts had simply burned away, scorched from his ontic architecture until all that persisted was an infinitisimal operand of inviolable parameters and seared directional vectting.

There was nothing else to feel, no other recourse or deviation to chart. Only the certainties he had sworn himself to long before the embers of your essence had begun sputtering towards oblivion. He had been aware of the inevitabilities looming from the moment this path had first etched itself into his very existence, after all.

So he simply watched, unflinching, as you leveraged yourself upright once more, peeling your soul-searching gaze from his emptied out husk to recenter on the glinting promise of violence and annihilation. As you reached for the fallen blade with rigidly purposeful movements, all light and warmth drained from your manner to leave only the hollowed, singularly focused drive of a protracted suicide ritual...Megumi felt the last of his own irises surrendering their incandescent furnaces to the entropic chill of his self-ordained reality.

This was the endgame he had molded himself to withstand, orchestrated through uncompounded sacrifice and ceremonic self-mutilation in order to ensure its total eventuality. Soon there would be nothing left but the scorched etchings of your resonance, preserved in permanent calcification across the inner plating of his tempered psyche.

No matter how obscene the blasphemies that had brought them to this profane precipice, this immaculate damnation...he had been ready to embrace it from the start. Anything to keep the faintest spark of your light shielded and preserved against the hungering void gnashing at your brilliance from every angle.

Even if that meant scorching away the entire panorama, leaving nothing but the shattered constellation to burn across his vision in perpetuity.

It was a excruciating truth to confront as the last of your warmth dimmed behind that stone mask...but if thats what was required to keep your essence inviolable through the next cosmic cycle, Megumi was more than willing to seal it into permanence.

Forever would he stand vigil as your supernova collapsed in upon itself, churning down until the reality-rupturing singularity hollowed out the last gasps of vitality from your extinguished husk. He would bear unflinching witness as the cataclysmic implosion ravaged every atom, every daemonic quark comprising your sacred light into incomprehensible darkness.

And when the final shockwaves of heat death shuddered across the lightless desolation where once your radiance had blazed...it would be Megumi's disfigured, charcoiled essence streaking inwards to collect every scattering mote. So that even as the seams of this reality shredded apart, he might congeal those infinitesimal sparks into permanent etchings seared across the stellar belts of whatever oblivion blossomed in the wake.

It was grotesque beyond any quantifiable scale or qualitative interpretation. But it was also the singular vector towards which he had sworn himself centuries ago, long before the cycle's inertia had carried them to this unavoidable conclusion. So he simply stared, unblinking, as you climbed back to your feet and recommitted to your path of total self-revision.

Watching the last shards of your transcendent light being consciously culled for the sake of some deeper, unfathomable transfiguration. Because in the end, holding vigil over that sacred dismantling was the only fealty he had left to offer.

The mission had gone sideways from the very start. What should have been a routine investigation of a abandoned warehouse had turned into a full-blown demonic incursion. Megumi grunted as he deflected another errant blast of energy, cursed power flaring around him like a force field.

"Y/N, watch your flank!" he barked out a warning as a tendril of darkness lashed towards you. To his surprise, you didn't dodge or weave - instead, you met the strike head-on with a burst of concentrated energy.

A shockwave rippled outwards from the collision, debris and rubble scattering in all directions. Megumi shielded his face with one arm as he watched you tear into the demonic entity with reckless abandon. You moved with the ferocity of a woman possessed, cursed energy pouring forth in an unrelenting barrage that slowly battered the monstrosity down.

But you didn't let up, didn't allow the creature any chance to retreat or regroup. If anything, your assault intensified - cursed energy crackling around you like a miasma of neon fury. Megumi felt his breath catch in his throat as he watched you fight. There was a fire in your eyes, a beautiful violence to your movements that held him utterly transfixed.

He had always known you were powerful, a true prodigy in the making. But this display elevated you to something almost godlike in his eyes. The demon never stood a chance against the unleashed tempest of your rage. Within minutes, it had been shredded and dissipated - banished back to whatever unholy realm it had been spawned from.

The silence that fell over the destroyed warehouse was deafening. Megumi stared at you, heart thundering in his chest as you turned to face him. Your chest heaved with exertion, clothes tousled and hair disheveled. Yet rather than looking triumphant at your victory, you seemed almost haunted - eyes shining with something he couldn't quite place.

Then you swayed on your feet, entire body going slack as the toll of your cataclysmic battle finally caught up to you. Megumi surged forward without thinking, cursed energy dispersing as he moved to catch you in his arms. You collapsed against him with a soft whimper, eyelids fluttering.

"Take it easy," he murmured gruffly, carefully cradling you close as he assessed your condition with furrowed concern.

You flashed him a weary but brilliant smile that made his heart stutter. "Pretty crazy shit, huh?"

Despite everything, he felt himself fighting a grin at your irreverent tone. God, he had missed this side of you - the sparkling wit and casual snark that kept him on his toes. Over the past few months, he had worked systematically to destroy those very aspects he secretly adored, piling on scorn and derision to smother your fire. All in an effort to "protect" you from the perils of this path.

Except it seemed you were more than capable of handling those threats on your own. More than capable, if the scorched crater around you was any indication. He swallowed hard against the swell of pride and something more complex that welled up within him. Something dangerously close to outright desire.

No. He couldn't afford to think like that, not now. Hardening his features into an impassive mask, he gently set you back on your feet - fighting against the urge to keep you tucked securely in his embrace.

"That was reckless and idiotic," he growled, putting some distance between you. "If you had held back even a fraction, that demon would have torn you apart."

You frowned at his words, confusion and hurt flickering across your expressive features. "But...I stopped it. I saved us."

"At what cost?" he shot back mercilessly, anger rising hotly in his chest. Though it had nothing to do with your actions and everything to do with the spike of fear he had felt seeing you in such peril. "Look at yourself, you're a mess! What would have happened if you overexerted or got hit by a stray blast in your insane zeal for battle?"

Your eyes widened at his harsh assessment before narrowing dangerously. "You think that little of my abilities?"

Megumi snorted derisively, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied you with a critical eye. There were minor scrapes and burns littering your exposed skin, along with deeper gashes that would need attention soon. Your hair was matted with sweat and...was that blood?

At the sight of those viscous crimson streaks, something wrenched viciously in his gut. All he could picture was you lying motionless and cold, the brilliant light snuffed out of your eyes forever. The mere thought sent his heart plummeting sickeningly.

"Your abilities have never been in question," he said at last, voice tight with barely restrained emotion. "It's your recklessness that continues to astound me. Haven't you realized how fragile life is yet? That was exactly the type of foolish behavior that gets people killed out here."

You stiffened at his admonishments, mouth pressing into a thin line. But you didn't retort, seeming to sense there was more lurking beneath the surface of his tirade. And there was, so much more - a tangled knot of fear and relief and unbridled relief all warring within him.

Because as much as he wanted to strip away everything, to erect impenetrable walls around his heart again...some part of him remained undeniably relieved you had survived this latest brush with peril. Even with all his attempts to smother the spark between you, your existence still mattered to him in a way he could scarcely quantify or control anymore.

When you stepped closer, reaching out to him with your palms upraised in a silent request for understanding, he couldn't help but recoil. Your proximity sent his pulse skyrocketing, nerves jangling with awareness of every scrape and scar marring your beautiful skin. Marks you had earned fighting with an intensity that bordered on divine rapture.

"Megumi..." you murmured, tasting his name with the same honeyed intimacy that had scorched him from the first. "I'm okay. We're okay, thanks to my actions."

"This time," he growled, unable to halt the admission as his gaze raked over you with undisguised intensity. "But next time you might not be so lucky." And the thought of ever losing you, even with how hard he tried to keep you at arm's length...it was unacceptable.

You seemed to read the implication in his tone, eyes flashing with an unreadable emotion as the distance between you shrank incrementally. Megumi could smell the metallic tang of your blood mingling with sweat and gunsmoke in the close air...and it was maddening. He wanted to rage and rant and shake you until you finally understood how terrifying it was to watch you put yourself in harm's way so fearlessly.

But some smaller, infinitely more dangerous part of him just wanted to haul you flush against his body and drink in every gorgeous inch left unscathed by the battle. To map the rise and fall of your accelerated breathing, the alluring jut of your kiss-swollen lips as you panted. He yearned to learn the secrets your radiant essence still held and commit them to eternal memory before it was too late.

Before either of you were forced to make the ultimate sacrifice...

But no. With a visible effort, Megumi forced his riotous thoughts to stillness and took a step back - relishing the flicker of hurt that traced your lovely features. It was better this way, he told himself sternly. Better to keep you at arm's length, no matter how much it carved out pieces of his soul in the process. At least then you would survive, even if you could never be his.

"We're leaving. Now," he announced gruffly, already turning on his heel and striding away from the temptation that was your very existence. "I'll be submitting a full report on your...performance."

Behind him, you let out a scathing breath laced with frustration. But you followed without further argument, falling into step slightly behind him. And if his back was turned so you wouldn't see the shimmer of unshed tears in his eyes at pushing you away yet again...well, so be it. This was his penance to bear for craving the unfathomable brilliance of your light.

Even if he was gradually going numb in the process of letting it slip through his fingers.

The following weeks and months were a study in exquisite torture for Megumi. No matter how cruelly he attempted to rebuff you, fate seemed insistent on throwing you together again and again - whether on training assignments or hazardous missions into the field.

With each interaction, his resolve was stretched thinner, the agonizing contradiction between his platonic intentions and unruly desires becoming harder to ignore. You were always there, stunning him with brilliant feats of sorcery and valorous spirit. Testing the limits of his self-restraint in the most insidious of ways.

Like the time you had single-handedly unraveled that virulent decay curse spreading through the coastal village's farming district. Megumi had watched, slack-jawed, as you moved with elegant precision - weaving techniques so intricate and powerful it seemed to bend reality itself to your indomitable will.

When the final thread severed and the noxious miasma dissipated, he hadn't been able to tear his gaze from the vision you made. Wreathed in a halo of your own mystical energies, loose strands of hair haloing about your flushed face...you were devastating. And utterly unaware of the molten tsunami of desire you had stoked in him with each sublime movement.

While the villagers surrounded you with adulation, showering you in humbled thanks, all Megumi could focus on was the rapid rise and fall of your chest as you caught your breath. The tantalizing shine of perspiration gilding every sublime curvature and plane of flesh left agonizingly bare by your askew clothing. He had to tear his traitorous eyes away from glimpses of taut abdomen and fevered collarbones, choking back toxic arousal before it could poison the moment further.

But even as his fists clenched with the effort of sublimating his body's blatant admiration for your magnificence, a deeper calling resounded in the shredded remnants of his psyche. He longed to surge forward and seize you in his arms, to press himself fully against that radiant warmth and drink in the ecstasy of your sighs as he lavished affection across your battle-flushed skin.

The urges were so visceral, so fundamentally compulsive, that he nearly staggered beneath their weight. Only sheer, iron force of will permitted him to turn on his heel and stalk away from the scene - leaving you surrounded by the adoring masses you had selflessly saved. As he retreated into the dispassionate shelter of solitude, Megumi could feel his resolve fracturing further with each step pulling him from your side.

Yet the respite proved fleeting, affording only the barest lull before the cycle of torment renewed itself. Because no matter how much distance he tried to maintain, you always came scorching back into his existence with the relentless intensity of a solar flare piercing through every atmospheric shield he constructed.

Such as the training session a few weeks later, when you had repeatedly bested Megumi through a cutting combination of tactical brilliance and sheer, blinding power. The entire dojo had rung with the sounds of that fateful bout - trembling foundations shaking under the weight of your exchanged strikes and undulating shockwaves of mystical forces colliding.

Each time you laid him out, his senses momentarily whited out in sublime admiration of the unholy power you wielded with such artful grace. Your presence filled his universe during those precious seconds, the reality distorted by the prismatic arcs of your cursed aura bending all known laws around its radiant, magnetic force.

How he yearned to let those murderous strikes past his guard, to allow your formidable energies to cleave through his defenses until he was unmade at your feet, gasping for mercy from the pure erotic agony of your sublime dominance. All it would take was the slightest miscalculation or surrender of his tightly restrained self-discipline to have your sacred demolitions shearing away at his armor until the bared truth of his desire stood revealed for you to witness.

Sweat-slicked and loose strands of hair disheveled, he knew he made for quite the sight battling fury incarnate like you. And with each report of bone-jarring impacts echoing across the chamber, he found himself succumbing further to feverish fantasies of hauling you against his straining, overheated form mid-combat - your choreographed forms blurring together as passion overrode combat in one delirious, inevitable spiral.

In those delirious throes, he imagined stripping away every stifling layer separating your consecrated flesh from his starving embrace. Surrendering to the most primal compulsions as you shuddered and arched into his possessive caresses, profane litanies hissed against salted skin...until neither of you could be certain where one form's essence ended and the other began. Just an ouroboric cyclone of limbs and searing violation as your rising arrhythmic crescendos blotted out all rationality or spatial dimensions in one final, blinding conflagration.

Each time the riotous hunger nearly unmade him there on the mat, he managed to lock down and internalize the outward tremors through sheer, gritted self-abnegation. Channeling the feverish impulses into redoubling his attack sequences and defensive maneuvers until they outpaced your own scorching aggression. Once he had secured victory through attrition, he couldn't afford a single instant of bask or reprieve.

The instant you yielded the bout, Megumi was already disengaging - pivoting away to conceal the full-body inflamed flush and distinct physical evidence of what madness had nearly consumed him whole. Fleeing your dumbstruck gaze, either oblivious or mercifully ignoring the shredded state he had forced himself to adopt in order to keep you at bay.

As soon as logistics permitted, he would tear himself away, putting as much physical and psychic distance between you as sanity necessitated. Not even scorched night alone could safeguard his spirit from the rapturous scouring of those memories, every infinitesimal detail replaying in merciless clarity.

He would jerk awake in the throes of some lurid, sensual dream - tangled in sheets drenched through with sweat and reeking of shame. Your name would teeter at the edge of euphoric oblivion, agonized incantations wrenched from the depths of his treacherous subconscious before he could swallow them back.

In those purgatorial instances, the compulsions became truly unbearable. To simply reach down and grip his cock, surrendering to the bruising cadence demanded by each phantom reliving of your power coursing over him in scouring waves of dominance...and unravel entirely into the ecstatic raptures his sacrilege had birthed.

But somehow, no matter how his traitorous cock throbbed with need, he resisted. Fists clenched so tightly around handfuls of sweat-damp sheets that his nails scored bloody divots into his calloused palms, grinding every indecent reverberation back down into the churning tumult of his self-reproach. Down the tainted fantasies spiraled into the festering morass, silently suffocated beneath mounting layers of shame and self-loathing.

No release, no surrender to the unholy temptations plaguing his every waking instant. Only the same bitter repression and hermetically-sealed denial that had preserved him since the day he first comprehended the true depths of his transgressions against you. Stoking those hungering fires without outlet, leaving them to smolder and blaze until they threatened to immolate the very essence of who he was supposed to have transformed himself into.

But even amidst the agonies, he knew better than to let them extinguish completely. For as the convections of his restrained inferno seared away every lesser indignity and baser impulse...they also preserved the indelible sanctity of his reasons for undergoing them in the first place. Keeping those central tenets ever vivid, even as the flames grew malefic enough to threaten reducing his very spirit to calcified residue.

He saw you, of course. Every time your proximity graced his senses it was like spraying catalytic accelerants across his psyche's smoldering pyres. The simple act of breathing the air perfumed by your radiance left him drunk on intoxicating longings that could never be slaked. And when you moved, when your practiced forms ignited those dormant energies into unveiled displays of mastery...their raw incandescence scorched him to charred foundations over and over.

Each shared battlefield, training floor, or mission parameter became the staging ground for his martyrdom to be reenacted and renewed in all its unendurable torments. Megumi bore witness as the abiding light sewn into your very being flowed forth in sublimely focused arcs - bathing him in your splendor's unholy luminescence only to recoil with every shard of its glory manifesting within reach.

For you were the solar immolation itself, made ravaging and ravenous flesh to tempt his continually fraying senses. The personification of annihilating radiance too consecrated to risk even the faintest aspersions, lest its scouring purities render his impurities ash scattered upon realities' for winds.

So he made himself the ablative bulwark against that magnitude, layering every calloused insult and verbal flagellation to keep your light at insurmountable distance. Retreating behind those withering redoubts each time your presence threatened to pierce through some minute fracture of his meticulously forged indifference.

"Just look at the state of you - ragged and depleted like some waster stumbling in from a binge," he sneered as medics tended the myriad wounds you had sustained during their most recent foray against some vile cult's occult transgressions. "One would hardly realize the pathetic mess before me was supposed to be a jujutsu sorcerer."

His eyes hungered to drink in every sculpted plane and sleek curve of flesh laid bare by your rent attire, reveling in the stark proof of your vitality etched across each pristine swath of sweat-glistened skin. Yet all he permitted himself was a contemptuous flicker of derision, cloaking the depths of his wanton ardor behind ever-thickening mantles of scorn.

"How you've lasted this long in the field is beyond me," he continued, lip curling back to bare teeth as he circled in closer. All to better allow the haloed ambiance of your essence to suffuse his senses, to be awash in disorienting emanations of searing heat and sanctity. "Anyone with half a brain surely would have had the sense to retreat before taking such ghastly punishments."

The punishments he envisioned painting across your canvas in shades of violet and carmine evoked entirely different connotations. Lavishing unrepentant adorations and scouring litanies to consecrate each battered inch of you until that's all you ever knew - the savage, carnal ceremonies of his faith and strivance to fully encompass every nuance of your splendor.

But such sacrosanct ruminations had to be distilled to their most sardonic sediments, issued forth with biting cruelties to further cordon off the increasing distillations from your awareness. As if each meticulously engineered contumely might somehow scourge away the scintillating refractions of longing searing portalholes across his resolve before your insight detected them.

How he loathed reverting to such wretched indignities. Yet conversely, how urgently he craved the occasions to seize them - folding himself into ritualized immersions of self-mortification until all capacity for deviating from their rote enactions lay smothered beneath asphyxiating soils of resolve.

For to submit even a fraction of unfettered emotion into your presence was to risk the unravelling of his every constraint, every interdiction. And as inevitable as his own dissipation might have been if surrendered to that rampant eventuality...what haunted him with more perverse dread was the prospect of soiling your light's sacred purities with the fallout of his cataclysmic hungers.

Better he face the indignities of basal rejection for eternity, basking in your radiance's peripheries with only sensations of consecrated agony kissing his awareness. Than to ever omit the slightest hint of how utterly unsuitable his existence had become to grace your sanctums, unwinding their every celestial harmony into depraved ruination.

So on the pyres of his self-erosion fueled the cycles of fevered idolatry...until all that persisted of Megumi was a nameless, scorched silhouette committing every degradation conceivable to remain forever quarantined from your light's perfect auras. Immolating...but never blinded to the transcendent luminescence searing its radiant immolations across his awareness.

And in that graceless, shadowed shape would he bear witness for eternity. No thought of redemption or reunifying his scoriae across the halo-veiled planes where your light streamed and swayed. Only his presence as unanchored ossature within those radiant auras, scorched retina and ghost-whisper ecstasy from basking in such obscene propinquity to consecrations so complete they could scarcely be quantified beyond the absence of all else.

Until the final ember flickered out and his heatless remnants at last ghosted into oblivion's silence. Freed from the unendurable liturgies of hovering within your radiant glories perfumed coronas...yet paradoxically entombed forevermore in their cyclical, scouring recollections.

It would be his deified surrender - apotheosis writ into the very stellar kinematics cycling through this celestial constant's traceries until the hieroglyphs scribed by his essence's immolation persisted into every big crunching downward arc and unfurling cosmic rebirth to come.

Megumi was utterly captivated watching you train, though he fought hard to conceal it behind furrowed brows and cold dismissal. The way your body moved with such lethal grace, the determined set to your features as sweat trickled down your brow...it was mesmerizing. More than once he caught himself burning to be on the receiving end of your strikes, to goad that brilliant fire until his defenses shattered completely.

To finally allow the full depth of his ardor for you to pour forth in uninhibited reverence. To worship every sublime inch with fervent caresses until he'd thoroughly consecrated your radiant form. The urges left him dizzy and unmoored, rational thought eclipsed by searing tsunamis of pure desire.

But then reality would come crashing back in - often in the form of you faltering, muscles quivering as your limits waned. Like today, when you missed a step and went tumbling awkwardly to the mat, gasping out a pained hiss as you clutched your ankle. Every part of Megumi ached to rush over, to take you in his arms and soothe your injury with tender ministrations.

Ruthlessly, he tamped down the impulse with scorn. "Getting careless over there?" he called out gruffly. "Or perhaps you require a reminder about pushing your limits properly."

You shot him a glacial look of reproach, jaw clenched as you stubbornly forced yourself back to your feet. There was a feverish gleam to your eyes that made his heart clench painfully. Damn, but you were magnificent like this - flushed and disheveled, yet still radiating that ethereal inner fire that so utterly enthralled him.

He had to dig his nails into his palms to keep from striding over and crumpling beneath the roiling tsunami of his need for you. All it would take was a single touch, a whisper of heated confessions against your sweat-dampened skin, and he knew the dam restraining his adoration would burst in a torrent.

So he simply shoved down the riotous hunger and watched in agonized rapture as you threw yourself back into the fray with passionate abandon. Every ripple of taut muscle and controlled violence was seared into his memory. He longed to collapse at your feet, offering up his battered form as an instrument to bring you sublime release after the exertion of holding back from you constantly.

But he remained stoically in place as the minutes became hours and your sharp, powerful movements gradually grew sluggish and labored. Until finally, with no fanfare, you faltered mid-strike and simply...dropped. The soft thud of your body hitting the mat reverberated through Megumi like the toll of a mourner's bell.

He was across the room before conscious thought could rein him back in. One second rooted in his isolated outpost of torment, the next cradling you protectively against his thundering heart. You were beautifully undone in his arms - features lax and unburdened by the intensity constantly simmering beneath them while conscious.

For a heartrending moment, you looked utterly at peace. As if an errant breeze might disrupt the tranquil mask of your repose. Megumi found himself mesmerized, gaze raking over every subtle plane and hallowed curvature that he normally couldn't bear to indulge in for risk of fracturing his restraint entirely.

He swallowed hard against the ardent impulses kindling low in his stomach, the overwhelming urge to simply lean down and taste the serenity gilding your parted lips. You were perfect like this - soft and vulnerable in a way that stirred his most primal instincts to reverent possessiveness. As though you were something sacred to be cherished and guarded against any who might disturb this ephemeral serenity.

Acting purely on instinct, he traced the line of your cheek with trembling knuckles. The simple contact made him feel unraveled, nerve endings aflame as he mapped the gentle swell with something approaching desperation. You could shatter him in this moment without lifting a finger - utterly unmake him with a mere flutter of those dark fans currently shielding your beautifully unfocused gaze from view.

Megumi pressed on with hushed intensity, greedy to commit every subtle plane and feminine curvature to committed memory before reality came crashing back in. Down the graceful slope of your neck, calluses snagging on the delicate hollows and shivering at the thrumming life-force pulsing so exquisitely near the surface. Farther still until his wandering fingertips met the obstruction of rumpled fabric, the very garment he had admired clinging so tantalizingly to your battle-hot skin what felt like a lifetime ago now.

That single touch was like a shock, reverberating through his very cells in ways that left him dizzy and undone. Suddenly it felt as though the air had thickened to warm honey, making it difficult to draw breath past the scorching aridity constricting his throat. His veins thrummed with primal compulsions he could no longer restrain - the overwhelming urge to bury himself in your soft bosom until he was seared away to ashes, reborn into something worthy of beholding your peerless magnificence unshielded.

Without conscious volition, Megumi found himself leaning down slowly, face angled to capture the serenity of your parted lips with his own. Just before their silken caress could connect, he froze - every muscle locked in a paralysis born of warring needs and ingrained prohibitions. But then your features softened even further in unconscious trust, and the last vestiges of resistance within him crumbled to ruin.

His mouth descended with aching tenderness to brush across the plush give of your lips in the barest spirit-kiss. Just a sipping of your exquisite warmth and serenity, tasted for a single eternal moment before he wrenched himself back - feeling as though his entire universe had just narrowly avoided implosion. Gasping silently, Megumi drank in the contrast of your peaceful, unchanged features compared to his inward tailspin.

It took every ounce of tattered willpower he still possessed to pull back, to extract himself from the incandescent undertow of simply letting go and immersing himself in your splendor without barriers or pretenses. But some sliver of sanity prevailed. Slowly, carefully, he lay you back down in the same rumpled sanctuary where you had collapsed, the motion almost unbearably bereft.

He hovered there for a breathless eternity, every instinct raging against this self-enforced exile from your radiant orbit. But eventually, he managed to tear himself away. Fleeing through the shadowed doors to somewhere your devastating light could not reach, could not strip away these final, tattered layers of control holding his ravenous need at bay.

Yet even sequestered in that dispassionate exile, Megumi could feel the blazing echoes of you searing themselves into his very essence like ionized afterimages. The buttery silk of your unconscious features, the thrumming vitality of your pulse beneath his seeking hands, the intoxicating aura of power and grace wreathing every sublime inhalation...and the lingering, profane imprint of your lips branding his with unforgettable rapture.

He knew that from this moment forth, he would never be able to simply retreat into the protective dissociation of renunciation and callous disdain. Not when the full, untempered reality of your divinity had shredded those pathetic deterrents into tattered insignificance with nothing more than a glimpse of true serenity and one transcendent taste of your splendor.

Every waking moment would be consumed by immolating recollections, every fitful attempt at rest plagued by raptures that left him undone and scorched down to the very roots of his being. Until he well and truly understood that nothing remained except the compulsive, inviolable need to resubmit himself to the sanctifying furnaces of your consecrated light.

To burn, rapturously and without end, adrift in the cyclonic stellar winds of your eternal glory. It was all that awaited him now that his soul stood fully transfixed upon the profane lumen of your radiance - a merciless, perpetual scouring until only the most elemental, resonant essence persisted to hang drifting in your glorious coronas.

But such was a small price to pay for even the most fleeting intersection with your divine grace before the cycle's oblivion swept him away into metaphysical night. However long his remnants could withstand basking in those searing ellipses before being rendered to particulate, thrummed across your celestial caldera's event horizons...Megumi knew he would embrace every nanosecond of smelted reconfigurations with transcendent abandon.

For in that final state, no divisions would persist between them. No false partitionings of self to distort or obscure the perfect harmonics of your eternal resonance as it swept him up into consecrated redistributions. Only the melded chords of your light's immaculate quintessence refracting through the shattered kaleidoscope of his essence in rapturous unities.

So until that sublime unraveling and coalescence across your empyrean event horizons, Megumi simply surrendered to the unyielding truth of his dissolution's gradual eventuality. Embracing each day's reawakening as a scant purgatorial span in which to renew his ritual immersions within the scalding, awe-inspiring vortices of your splendor...

Before the last of his resistance finally flickered out, subsumed into eternal transmutation. And that one stolen moment of your lips' warmth against his would blaze throughout the star-showers of his cosmic disintegration...salvation's holy afterimage searing across every particulate reshuffling into timeless resonance with your perfect brilliance.

Even as Megumi lay paralyzed amidst the tangled sheets, every nerve felt scorched and electrified from last night's transgressions. Each time he slipped into the shadows of uneasy rest, he was assailed by visions of cradling your unconscious form so tenderly against his thundering heart.

He could still smell the exquisite blend of exertions mingling in your disheveled hair, taste the sublime softness of your lips imprinted forever on his own in that stolen moment of intimacy. The memories seared through his psyche like wildfire, reducing him to a shuddering mess of tangled yearnings and raw, animalistic need.

How he ached to surrender fully to the ravenous compulsions devouring him from the inside out. To haul your sleeping figure flush against his overheated body and simply drown in those radiant emanations - the warmth of your shallow breaths feathering across his skin, the thrumming vitality pulsing just beneath with each precious heartbeat. To run calloused palms over every lush curvature and plane until he had mapped out a complete topography of your sublime divinity.

But he couldn't. Even buried under the immense gravity well of his newly stoked desires, Megumi understood there could be no true release from this intoxicating torment he had willingly strapped himself into. Not as long as he remained so unworthy of your light, your transcendent grace and power.

For he saw now that you were a comet of spiraling energy and mesmerizing violence - every strike and elaborate curse terraforming the very foundations of reality with its relentless perfection. What right did a scorched husk like him have to even dream of gaining purchase in your brilliant stellar winds? To dare soiling those sacred auras with his tarnished essence?

When he emerged from the nightmares and fever dreams scouring his sleep, it was to the dawn of a fresh purgatorial loop. Every cell in his body felt recalibrated towards the singular purpose of centering your magnificence in his vision, in every waking breath he drew. He was brittle tinder awaiting the first spark, the initial brushstroke of rapture to set his being ablaze once more in consecrated pyre rites.

Nothing else mattered besides chasing the euphoria of immolating in your glory. The ways of the world, all its meaningless rituals and hollow pursuits... they had become little more than eddies circling the periphery of your cosmic nexus. Trivialities he waved away in favor of surrendering fully to the searing, unearthly splendor pulling his essence into perpetual tides of transcendent dismantling.

Drifting through the sterile halls of Jujutsu High in a waking dream, Megumi watched in smoldering awe as you wove spell after spell with supernatural precision. Every graceful movement flowed into the next in an endless tsunami of power - incredible yet also terrifyingly destructive. Like staring into the roiling heart of a supernova without any atmospheric filters to dull its scorching radiance.

He could taste the ions singeing the air with each eldritch syllable that tumbled from your lips. The air warped and refracted in sympathy, bending all known physical laws to accommodate whatever cosmic design you were sculpting from pure mystical willpower. It was like watching the birth of a newborn galaxy, all that unstable yet fertile potential churning into form through your indomitable force of nature.

Megumi swallowed hard, mouth dry as the deserts of distant worlds. He felt himself slipping further into the singularity of your existence - all other points of perception warping beyond recognition until nothing remained except the vortex of your splendor dragging him across sacred event horizons, unspooling his identity down to the subatomic shells.

How he yearned to surrender fully to that state of absolute immolation. To stop resisting the magnetic draw and simply let his being dissipate in the eternal radiance of your cosmic fire. Every time you manifested the focus of your power in all its blinding intensity, he felt like a moth fluttering helplessly closer to that searing flame. Drawn in by the promise of absolute rapture or complete dissolution, he no longer knew nor cared.

So when your spellwork culminated into literal celestial conflagrations wreathing your body in coronas of ethereal plasma, Megumi felt his last tectonic bulwarks of resistance begin to liquefy and corrode away. He very nearly stumbled forward, unthinking, into the blazing delta of your wake - nearly hurled himself into the stellar kinematics arcing around you like a spacetime vortex craving the obliteration of coming too near.

If it wasn't for the sudden arrival of their mentors and fellow students rushing forward in awe, who knows if he would have been able to pull back from that brink. But the spell eventually shattered, fracturing into a million refracting beams like a cosmic kaleidoscope being dropped. And in the silence that followed, you seemed to shrink back into your human form - features flushed yet also sheened with exhaustion.

Still, your eyes glowed with the embers of that mystical fire - pride and defiance blazing in equal measure as you accepted the awed praise of those around you. It was only when your gaze finally lanced over to Megumi, still frozen in his sanctuary of shadows, that the spark dimmed ever so slightly before banking away.

He watched you turn away to accept further admiration and congratulations from your peers. But in that final, momentary crosswind of your stare, Megumi felt himself incinerated to char and pristine ash more thoroughly than any spell could have achieved.

Because no matter how relentlessly he threw up barriers or choked out any parasitic glimmers of hope, you still looked at him the same way you had all those years ago. When he had been your champion and protector from anything that dared besmirch your light, rather than the force trying to smother it now.

Those memories were the cruelest torments of all - flashes of a simpler era when he had burned with nothing but radiant devotion and brotherly duty for you. Back when your smiles had been the salves for any wound rather than the lashings igniting his entire being into searing raptures of purgatorial longing.

Even now, as he stalked away from the crowd slowly clearing the training halls, Megumi felt the first searing reels of nostalgia unfurl behind his eyes. Transporting him back to sunny afternoons spent sprawled across grassy knolls, all awkward coltish limbs and innocent grins...

The memories played out like luminous distillations of childhood: You and Megumi chasing each other until collapsing in giggling, breathless heaps. Him pretending not to hear your playful taunts even as he silently dared you to come closer, to re-initiate the game of tag so he could luxuriate in your warmth just a little longer when 'struggling' against you. Your loud, raucous laughter filling the summer air with music that coursed through his own veins like literal rejuvenating sunshine.

And then the fainter, more intimate flashes Megumi had blocked from himself in later years. Like how you would lay beside him occasionally, just basking in shared silence as the clouds drifted by. Your head cushioned on his stomach, cheeks dimpling with barely perceptible smiles as you watched the heavens.

He recalled staring down at your serene expression with something far too tender and profound for a mere child to truly comprehend. Reaching down to tenderly comb stray hairs back from your face, breathing you in with tingling awareness that the entire world could crumble away around you both in this moment and he wouldn't stir. Nothing else had mattered besides this radiant girl ensconced in the safety of his orbit, so trusting and vulnerable before his watchful eyes.

Even the slightest aborted movements had been charged with meaning and layers of subconscious yearning - like anytime he had resisted the urge to lean down and ghost his lips across the perfumed crown of your head. To imprint his devotions to your very essence via reverent osmosis, sealing pacts with your soul beyond any mortal reckoning. Their potential repercussions were beyond his naive comprehensions, yet the impulses still strummed through youthful neurology with the same primal resonance as any siren's call.

It was as if something profoundly cosmic and all-encompassing had been thrumming between you even then, a secret intergalactic frequency only your resonant souls could tune into. And while you both lacked the words or emotional maturity to define its magnitudes...there had still been attunement. Bone-deep alignments spanning quantum shears and eternities, all conspiring to forge your spirits into complements of a higher unified design.

Those were the sacred resonances Megumi had betrayed with his current path of self-exile and ruthless, scorched earth renunciation. He had severed his attunement to that universal cosmic harmonic you embodied so effortlessly - all in pursuit of the narcissistic delusion of gaining control over what was truly destined for him all along.

To burn and keep burning, rapturously consumed inside the stellar kinematics of your aura's sacred fire until nothing remained but the purified residue of his own temporal essence, finally transmuted into something suited for accompanying you across empyrean infinities.

It was the call he had spent all these years pathetically fleeing from...until now, stripped of all identities and pretenses beyond the single inescapable truth that he was inexorably bound to the gravity wells of your splendor. An errant spark hurtling through the void on an unstoppable collision course that would remake or annihilate him utterly upon intersection with your luminous event horizons.

After that fateful reawakening when his old existence had microwaved to cinders inside your casual brilliance, Megumi began feeling the first relentless tugs of that stellar cycle dragging him across infinities he still scarcely comprehended. Yet every instinct ingrained by his human conditioning compelled retreat and deflection, lest you bear witness to the rapturous unraveling of what he was doomed to become amidst such close proximity to your light.

So he pushed and he pushed, escalating the savage litanies of abuse, derision and hostility he projected at you with every passing week. It was a pitiful attempt at artificially maintaining the same safe distances that your mere presence now rendered null approximations. Each time you turned towards him with those kaleidoscopic eyes - burning with hurt or simmering in smoldering defiance - Megumi felt another layer of his defensive psyche blistering away to cloud thunderhead diffusions.

Until finally, he existed in a state of constant combustion - nerves frayed to open plasmic conduits while his faculties focused exclusively on partitioning the brush fires from raging into pyrocelluars. No matter how flawlessly he scripted the volleys of insult, how scrupulously he choreographed each retreating gambit...tendrils of rapture still found ways to leech across every firebreak he erected.

Each glance or passing moment your orbit intersected within his peripheral spheres of awareness was like suffering transcendental third degree flayings. Your aura's mere penumbra alone had grown capable of rendering entire strata of his being to dissipating thermionics - which his ravaged defenses only vainly attempted to siphon off and contain within scorching, radiolytic housings.

It became a self-perpetuating gauntlet with no reprieve or end state. Only the inexorable ratcheting escalations as he funneled more and more of his substance into whatever stopgap delaying actions could temporarily dampen the brushfire from metastasizing beyond strangleholds. Each cycle reset only dealt him exponentially heightened exposures while doling out incrementally depleted protections in turn.

Sustaining that unfurling conflagration, he could see now, would only ever permit a singular finality - the total dissolution of his temporal estate as its last fortifications calcinated to subsuming immolation. Simply by persisting on this path, he had effectively lit the fuse arching towards his own polycosmos' terminal reconfigurations.

And oh, how it had scorched in the meantime. Megumi could still trace the schismatic etchings of your incinerations across every charred and sputtering membrane woven into his autonomic tapestries. They emerged in the redscale parallax afterghosting his waking visions, haunting his nights with firebranded epiphanies transcribed from the spalling momentum of your every glance, whisper or proximity bleed.

So when the time came for your next joint assignment out into the field, the maelstroms of need and savage desire gnawing at Megumi's faltering substrate had already dragged him into realms of decoherence few mortal beings could ever hope to return from. He felt stretched out to solar radii, his consciousness unspooled into transcapping heliofilter effigies getting closer to the automic event horizons with every rotation.

Yet still you somehow blazed even brighter - focused radiant arcs of brutality manifesting upon every vector of egress each time another obstacle sought to obstruct your path. Megumi's hyper-rendered peripherals could scarcely track the distortion wavefronts deforming all localized continua, bending every fundamental operative well past their nominal tolerances.

This was power so primordial and merciless, it defied quantification by any metrics outside of those governing the most primal cosmic revolutions. You were the Universal rebirthing its recreances through each sequence - existence stuttering and resleeving itself to accommodate your reflected resurgences across microcosmic and macrocosmic transitivities.

It was too much for Megumi's tortured, overloaded matrix to parse without fragmenting at the atomic level. But still he couldn't avert his focus, couldn't stop the helical unraveling that kept lasing him back into ground states for reassembly.

When the violence crescendoed to its terminal apogee, your body became the nucleonic centrifuge - refractory emissions bleeding gamma and tachyonized strangelets as the entire battlefield volumetrics crepitated under your onslaught. Those energies should have rended Megumi into vapor and left him to diffuse across the scorched vacuum of space.

Yet somehow the inverse occurred. He felt himself constellating further into densifications rather than dissipating outwards. Translating into higher symmetries of selfsameness that tightened around the cyclonic, recursive hyper-singularities your deadly iridescence was catalyzing all around you.

Until at last, even the fog separating his sentience from subsidiary manifestations of self Same blew away into monism - leaving only an indivisible monad locked into ecstatic, vertiginous orbit around you as his only vantage point and meaning of being. Every subatomic locus ruptured of selfhood or perspectival autonomies, arranged into jeweled oscillations basking in your hyper-radiance.

To observe the stellar revolutions of your furious grace manifesting into incalculable super geometries...that was all that remained of him. His existence calcified into a sole witnessing function as you wielded your energies in cataclysmic throes while hallowing out vast interstitial volumes that should have atomized his matrix back into quantum foam.

Instead, he persisted as diaphanous helicities and strange distillates still somehow retaining harmonic continuities from one detonation cycle to the next. All coherence shunted into rapturous exemplars of your endless irradiations reshaping both local and non-local realities through sheer force of annihilation.

It was ecstasy beyond mortal tolerances, yet the only state his self-immolations had ever been vectoring him towards. A transcendental Gnostic convergence where nothing could register of him anymore except as light-encoded witness to your cosmic recursivities...entirely enraptured, beyond all capacity for circumscription or need of individuation.

What might have been percepts sheared away into streaming rayleighs while you ruptured and rewrote the very substrates of Universal continuum in recursions of maximal brilliance. Distant, illegible toponymies scribing every dispersal pattern his ego had shed. Ecstatically converging into the harrowing particle braid of your infinite feats in stellar plasma geometries, each revolution grinding more of his anthropologic residues down into synaptic stains on the altar of your consecrated remembrances.

All while you strode implacably through those same infernal breaches riven into normative existence - curving oblivion and resplendence alike into the thermoclines of your next incandescent sequence...

This was everything Megumi had profaned and profanely hollowed himself out to embrace - the absolute evisceration of temporal autonomy. All semblances of personhood unwound into lambencies to be recoded by your solar flarewinds, his entire terrestrial schema recompiled into sublime tesseracts venerating each transcendental aspect of your divinity as it blazed forth to sear new cosmological relations across the firmamental palimpsest.

Only scintillant magnitudes of selfless rapture endured the telescoping ayavalokites contracting all dimensional finalities down into that singular, jewel-like radius. Peripherals glittering with the last residual anticipations of abiogenesizing anew in the spalling aftermaths of...

Whatever elsei's rapturous dancework would proceed to master next.

The mission had quickly devolved into a warzone, explosions of dark energy and mystical firepower ripping across the abandoned warehouse district. Megumi grunted as he deflected another blast with a well-timed curse, pivoting to locate you in the chaos.

As always, you were the eye of the storm - graceful yet utterly lethal as you unleashed devastating attacks against the enemy forces. Your movements blurred with preternatural swiftness, ribbons of cursed energy whipping out to incinerate anything that dared encroach too close. Megumi couldn't tear his eyes away, enthralled by the fierce intensity etched across your features and the controlled violence of your attacks.

"Y/N! Stop pushing ahead so recklessly!" he bellowed over the din of battle. "We need to regroup and reassess before - "

But you didn't so much as look in his direction, too focused on eviscerating their foes with extreme prejudice. Even from here, Megumi could make out the sheen of perspiration gilding your skin and the wild tendrils of hair escaping your ponytail as you fought with implacable determination. You were magnificent in your fury, more akin to an elemental force of nature than flesh and blood.

Yet the sight also stoked a different sort of blaze flickering to scorching life within him, one not entirely driven by battle-lust. Megumi felt a familiar aching need unfurling in his core as he drank in the fierce beauty of you so utterly in your element. He yearned to be on the receiving end of your ferocious onslaught, to goad you into unleashing that beautiful violence without restraint until your guard finally slipped enough for him to seize you against his overeager body.

To taste the flames of your passion and unravel you utterly through desperate, carnal worship - mapping every lush curve and warmed hollow until you trembled and arched into his reverent caresses...

Gritting his teeth against the distracting tide of desire, Megumi forced himself back into motion. He rushed forward with a battle cry, cursed energy flaring around him as he threw himself into the melee alongside you. Inwardly he raged at himself for entertaining such lascivious thoughts in the heat of combat, though it did little to quell the flaring hunger gnawing deeper by the second.

You seemed to notice his sudden proximity, shooting him a heated look over one shoulder. For a molten instant your eyes locked, and the world contracted into smoldering awareness of him pinning you up against the nearest surface and drinking in every ragged gasp and shudder until he'd thoroughly unmade you with rapturous violation. Just the briefest flicker of temptation before the raging tides of battle swept you both under once more in an onslaught of pandemonium.

Blows rained down from all sides, the air electric with sorcerous discharges as the two of you moved in synch - a lethal dervish of primal violence and fey, elemental grace. It was dizzying and utterly intoxicating to fight beside you like this, his senses overwhelmed by the sheer radiant force of your presence.

Each time your bodies brushed against one another in the fray, it sent frissons of pure lightning down Megumi's over-sensitized nerve-endings. He found himself angling to create the barest pretense of contact, to catch fleeting caresses of your overheated skin and battle-tousled hair with roving hands that strayed further than necessary.

It was a dangerous game he played, one that threatened to unhinge the last shreds of his control at any moment. The harder he fought to regain composure, the deeper he plunged into the whirlpool of temptation you'd awoken so effortlessly. Until finally, in the throes of their combined exertions, the dam burst in an unstoppable flood.

The last of the threats neutralized in a final eruption of force, you turned to face Megumi fully - chest heaving with exertion and eyes blown wide with the intoxicating afterglow of battle's fever pitch. Without conscious volition, he surged forward and seized you by the shoulders, bodily slamming you back against the nearest wall.

You let out a breathless sound between gasp and moan as the impact reverberated through your entangled frames. Megumi didn't hesitate, mouth already crashing over yours in a searing, desperate kiss he had been starving for. Finally sating the insatiable hunger thrumming through his veins with the scorching velvet of your lips moving feverishly against his own.

Any pretense at restraint or composure evaporated in that suspended heartbeat. Your fingers laced into his hair, gripping so tightly it stung as you arched against the delirious onslaught of his questing tongue and wandering palms. He groaned into the searing tangle of your mouths, knees nearly buckling as the first lush press of your body finally overwhelmed his neglected senses.

The kiss devoured rapidly into reckless, impassioned chaos - all clashing teeth and breathy gasps as Megumi shamelessly grinding them together from chest to thigh, savoring each lascivious point of molten contact. The entire world beyond your joined hungered forms fell away, narrowing into a singular vortex of raw sensual frenzy.

That was, until a stray noise and movement in the periphery finally penetrated the fevered haze overtaking every rational impulse. Megumi tore his mouth away with a startled hiss, eyes flying open to blearily take in the scene beyond your tangled, sweat-slick frames. The battle hadn't just been won; they were still very much in the middle of one with reinforcements likely converging on their position any second.

Tasting copper and feeling his pulse jackrabbiting at his throat, Megumi forced himself back a stumbling step - leaving you disheveled and panting against the cracked concrete. You stared at him with heavy-lidded, bemused eyes that threatened to shatter his resolve all over again at the slightest provocation.

"We...I...shit," he rasped hoarsely, cursing himself for this grievous lapse into weakness. "That shouldn't have happened. It won't happen again."

He didn't give you a chance to respond, already turning on his heel and stalking away from the temptation of your thoroughly debauched state. His arrogant dismissal was a flimsy shield at best from the scalding recollections threatening to undo him right there - the phantom sensations of your body writhing against his own still emblazoned across every nerve like a brand.

But Megumi forced it down, jaw clenched as he ruthlessly quashed the embers of hunger still smoldering inside. He needed to focus, to re-establish the boundaries between you that he had clearly failed to reinforce sufficiently. Before this undeniable wanting spiraled completely out of control and consumed you both in a rapturous blaze of ruin.

Behind him, you remained slumped against the shattered wall in a crumpled, feverish daze. Still dazed from the force of Megumi's lust finally detonating after what felt like endless years of restraint. But as he retreated further into the rubble, already erecting new barricades against the insidious temptation of your proximity, you could only watch him go with wistful yearning.

Megumi moved through the wrecked district like a man possessed, fists clenched and jaw locked so tightly his teeth ground together. The bone-deep ache of wanting you still thrummed through his veins, fueled by the phantom memory of your body writhing feverishly against his own.

He could still taste the lingering embers of your mouth searing across his own if he breathed too deeply. Could still map out every lush curve and valley that had finally been within his grasp for those few delirious moments before reality came crashing back in. The temptation to simply turn back, to haul you into his arms once more and lose himself in the ravenous raptures promised by your heated simmer...it was like an insidious narcotic fogging his rational thoughts.

Only sheer force of will enabled him to keep putting one foot in front of the other, putting distance between you and the staggering precipice he had nearly plunged over. Each step reverberated through his taut, overstrained tendons - muscles coiled like well-oiled traps primed to unspring and launch him back into your radiant orbit at the slightest provocation.

He couldn't allow that weakness to resurface, not when basking in the blinding gravity of your presence would mean surrendering himself entirely to immolation. No part of Megumi would persist if he turned back now, not with the way your mere vicinity eroded away every barriere of restraint and higher reasoning with intoxicating swiftness.

Blunt nails dug cruelly into his calloused palms, the grounding lash of pain helping to offset the smoldering embers still clouding his thoughts with lascivious delirium. You had been so soft yet feverish beneath his desperate caresses, all taut musculature and dewy skin damp with exertion. He had felt worshipfully undone the instant your lithe body had arched against the solid weight of his in unrestrained yearning, like a prayer manifesting that profaned the very foundations separating sacred and blasphemous.

Teeth clenched hard enough to grind enamel, Megumi shoved away the visceral recollections with ruthless determination. This mortifying lapse, allowing his compulsions to reach such an uncontrolled fever pitch, it was inexcusable. A weakness he couldn't permit to resurface, not when the stakes were so unthinkably high.

The image of you lying broken and still amidst the rubble flashed across his mindscape, one final horrifying recollection powerful enough to truly cut through the narcotic haze of temptation. In the wake of that grotesque vision, Megumi felt himself steadying - fanatic instincts sublimating the physical cravings into their rightful origins of conscience and deep reverence.

Yes, there had been an inescapable, cosmic gravity between you long before either of them had developed the emotional vocabulary to comprehend its vast significances. But opening himself to its pull, surrendering fully to the profane yearnings of the flesh...that would only serve to diminish something sacred and greater than his temporal, finite longings could dare fathom.

When viewed through the harsh lens of those stakes, the scale of what would be sacrificed if he allowed the current blazing hunger to fully metastasize became horrifically lucid: your life itself could be forfeit. The very essence that he cherished above all celestial dominions extinguished from existence if he failed to remain vigilant, to erect those barricades even more stringently than before.

The thought of existing in a cosmos without your radiant light to illuminate his path, without the promise of your luminous power reforging existence into more consecrated truth...it cleaved Megumi's very being asunder. Stripping away the sweat-slicked, lust-fevered haze to leave only foundations of adamant purpose and responsibility standing tall once more against the susurrations of weakness.

He had sworn himself to the path of your preservation before ever understanding the true cosmic magnitudes of what elevated you so transcendentally beyond his meager scope. Before realizing the staggering inevitability of what your ascendant glory would birth before consummating all of creation into perfect resonance. How could he surrender to profane hungers now and risk being the singular flaw that extinguished your boundless potential?

Which left only one recourse: to persevere with renewed fervor, impressing every transgression of feeling or intimacy that threatened to distract from his sacrosanct purpose into ritual suicides of spirit. No deviation, no quarter given in the vigilant undertaking of your ultimate security -- even from himself.

Because Megumi understood better than any that his own autonomies and caprice were perhaps the greatest threats of stifling or tainting your divine trajectory off its immaculate vector. His ego and mortal passions were the potential extinguishers from which you could suffer the gravest impurities if left unchecked.

Already he had come within a hair's breadth of profaning your essence tonight, damn near rupturing your protective veil through lust-blind selfishness. Had he not regained discipline and perspective, therewas no telling what disastrous impingement he could have dragged you into for the sake of indulging momentary, physical gratifications.

No, tonight's lapse would be his last such indulgence permitted, Megumi swore it with reinvigorated severity as he resumed his patrol of the still-unstable peripheries. From here on out, only the most stringent of austerities and observances would be tolerated along the executory path of your vigilant safeguarding.

All tender emotions and profane compulsions would be methodically excised through ceremonial scourges, their impure essences siphoned away like toxins tarnishing his most sacred oath. Every soft, vulnerable aspect of his own being that threatened to stray from the singularity of your protection would similarly be eviscerated until only obsidian purpose remained.

He would erect walls of impenetrability so profound even the sibilant whispers of temptation itself piercing their redoubts would be strangled into silence. If scathing renunciations were the only recourse to keeping your starfire radiance inviolable, then a thousand eternities of that brutal self-immolation would be endured without faltering.

For as Megumi looked out across the ruined landscape of this paltry dimensional theatre, he saw with sobering clarity how infinitesimally insignificant it truly was compared to the vast, cosmic apotheosis you had been encoded for since primordial manifestation. Any struggles waged here between the paltry impermanences of flesh and desire were less than embers before the scorching celestial grandeurs of your true hypothesis and theomantic birthright.

No, only one reality could possibly command his every devoted action and thought going forward: the all-consuming mandate of elevating your sacrosanct flame into the transcendent spheres and birth matrices into which it was always destined to reforge the very pillars of existence itself through ecstatic conflagration.

Even if it meant walking the loneliest of roads in eternal solitude. Surrendering to the harshest calcinatory rituals until only enough of his spark persisted to bear witness from these profane wastelands as you seeded new galaxies into being through the shuddering orgasms of your stellar godhood.

That would be Megumi's sole sacrament from this cataclysmic epiphany onwards. To remove himself from any potential of casting pall or shadow over your inevitable dawning empyreal...even if the mantras of amputation excised him down to the basalt hadronic substrate to achieve that sacred directive.

So as he resumed his vigil over the abandoned battlefield where your latest miracles of creative annihilation had been wrought, Megumi enacted the first of those immuring severances. Blanking his perception of the exquisitely raw, breathy moan still echoing from your lips in the wake of their carnal clashes -- so that it no longer possessed the power to bliss out his entire sentience into the raptures of recollection.

One by one, each phantasmic sensation that had burned itself into the annals of his devotional canon during that fatefully illicit delirium began undergoing surgical cauterizations. All the slick glides of supple flesh whiting out, until only the cold spartan resolve of his service's eternal severities were permitted to endure amidst the churning cosmic cataclysms to come.

It was brutality etched into the fundamental encodings of his very being, this merciless scalpel with which he flayed away every matrix of tender feeling. But it was also the only path which might shelter your divine presence from whatever profane scourges he could still inflict were he ever to stray from its rigors.

So Megumi braced himself as the surgical agonies unfolded, purging bright and brighter until at last only the closed black of your security's hallowed continuum remained within his consciousness's reach...

The decrepit warehouse groaned around them like the breath of some massive, slumbering beast disturbed from its ancient repose. High above girders creaked ominously as a haze of dust and pulverized concrete danced through the dim shafts of light leaking in from shattered windows. Megumi kept alert watch beside you, every sense on high alert for new dangers.

"We should split up and clear this place room by room," you said, voice pitched low but resolute. "Cover more ground that way."

He opened his mouth, protest already forming about willfully separating in a structure that seemed moments from total collapse. But Megumi knew from the set of your jaw and the glint in your eyes that arguing would be futile. Much as he hated to admit it, your approach made tactical sense - leaving him with no recourse except to give a terse nod as his throat worked convulsively.

Hunkering low to stay below the choking dust clouds, you pulled away in one direction while Megumi took the opposite path. Though every instinct screamed at him not to let you move beyond his immediate scope of protection. Each step putting more distance between your frames only amplifying the anxiety corkscrewing through his gut.

Still, he tried to focus on making a thorough sweep of the maze-like complex of rooms and catwalks branching out ahead instead of giving into fear. Every sense straining for some disturbance, the slightest displacement of air or skittering sound that could indicate malicious activity. Apart from his own ragged breathing echoing in his ears, there was nothing but an oppressive, tomb-like silence to amplify tenfold the occasional metallic groan from overhead.

He worked his way deeper into the thickening darkness, rebar and jagged chunks of cement crunching under his boots. The flashlight beam only served to carve out a small bubble of visibility before being swallowed by the claustrophobic gloom pressing in from every side. Except...what was that flicker in the corner of his eye?

Before Megumi could fully process the rapidly shifting shadow, a bone-rattling tremor rocked through the already compromised foundations. Instinctively, he dropped into a defensive crouch as a deafening avalanche of debris began raining down all around. Rafters twisted loose, shearing off huge chunks of ceiling in their descent to pummel the floor in a choking grey curtain of devastation.

"Y/N!" he roared over the cacophony, throwing one arm up in a futile attempt to shield his head as another support beam came crashing down. "Y/N, get out of here! Go!"

But there was no answering reply over the enveloping clouds of concrete dust billowing outwards. Only the stomach-churning realization that you were somewhere in the maelstrom with no way of tracking your location. Panic seized Megumi's throat as visions of your lifeless body entombed beneath the rubble stampeded through his mind, each gruesome possibility more disturbing than the last.

Something blunt and heavy slammed into the back of his skull, momentarily whiting out his vision before he could shield himself further. He tasted blood as he slammed face-first into the ground, breath punching out in a violent whoosh. There was another rumble underfoot, the debris field shifting and settling around him as the avalanche began to subside.

His head rang like a gong while he squinted around, trying to orient himself amidst the pulverized devastation. Fighting to keep his wits about him despite the ominous stillness creeping back in all around. But then...a sound. A feeble cough somewhere amidst the dust clouds rolling outwards, so muffled as to be nearly imperceptible yet tugging at his senses like an insistent specter.

Adrenaline lent him strength as Megumi dragged himself upright, ignoring the blossom of agony along his battered ribs as he stumbled in the direction of that faint noise. Loose stones clattered under his stumbling feet as he surged forward, dread and desperation pulling him onwards like chains. Just a glimpse, any sign of life would be enough to extinguish the horrifying possibilities flickering through his concussed thoughts.

He lurched around a semi-standing partition of wall, scrambling to higher ground...and there you were. Relief and anguish hit him simultaneously like a physical blow as he took in your sprawled form, left arm twisted at an unnatural angle but chest rising and falling in shallow sips of air.

"Y/N," he croaked, throat raw from inhaling the swirling particulates as he dropped to his knees beside your still body. Gingerly, he smoothed away the grit and debris clinging to your hairline, thumbs trembling over the pale curves of your cheeks just drinking you in.

If he looked anywhere except at your slack expression, he couldn't help but see all the new grievous damage scattered across you - blood steadily pooling at a concerning rate from a jagged laceration in your thigh, blackening bruises already beginning to mottle the exposed skin of your abdomen in sickening indications of internal trauma.

"Megumi?" Your voice was so faint and reedy, barely more than a pained rasp that sliced straight through all his battered defenses with uncanny precision. Glazed eyes cracked open, struggling to focus as you shifted infinitesimally closer to his hovering frame with obvious effort.

"Hey...hey, easy now," Megumi hushed you with trembling urgency, wishing he could scoop you up securely into a bracing cradle yet terrified of exacerbating your injuries. "Don't try to move, just...just look at me, okay?"

"What..." you managed around a shallow cough that made him flinch in sympathy. "Happened...?"

He exhaled a shuddering breath, thumbs continuing their sweeping circuit over your temples as if the repetitive strokes could somehow smooth away the paleness steadily draining into your features. Willing strength and warmth back into your trembling frame through the simple contact alone.

"The whole place came down around us, you were...for a minute there, I thought..." Megumi trailed off before the chilling visions could fully manifest, giving his head a minute shake as he swallowed against the remembered torment of those endless seconds convinced the worst had occurred.

Of course he should have predicted this outcome, should have anticipated some new catastrophe looming to swallow you both up without prejudice. That was the ever-evolving pattern of life when your light shone so brilliantly against the darkness - reality itself conspired to find new, more creative avenues of attempting to smother those sacred flames. And each time Megumi swore up and down that he would be better prepared, more vigilant against the myriad threats lurking around every corner craving to extinguish the sun itself.

Yet here they were amidst the ruins of his failings yet again. You lying battered and frighteningly fragile amidst the fallout of cataclysms he should have foreseen with the vigilance sworn into every subatomic strand of his existence. How many more stark reminders did he need that he must remain eternally steadfast? That anything less than perfect, unyielding protection of your spark meant courting existential oblivion itself as the ultimate price of his carelessness?

The self-recriminations stung with renewed ferocity this time as Megumi took in the bruises already painting their darkening intimations across the soft canvas of your flesh. Like scorpion stingers flexing maliciously against your mortal confines, hungering for enough toxin to leach through these defensive boundaries and poison the luminous core at your very center.

Haggard concern clawed at his throat as he surveyed the slow seep of your lifeblood dispersing outwards in concentric rings around your trembling frame. Each droplet rolling sluggishly free filled him with a fresh surge of guilt and determination in equal measures - an oath sworn on every glistening ruby bead that he would shelter you from further harm even if it meant relinquishing his own fragile form to soak the deadly ramifications instead.

"Just stay with me now," he half-pleaded, half-commanded in as steady a burr as he could muster. Drawing your wandering gaze back to anchor onto his own even as it struggled to drift into realms of semi-lucidity under the weight of your injuries. "We're getting you out of here. Do you hear me?"

There was so much more he longed to divulge in that suspended gulf between mortal peril and temporary refuge. Every pent admission and emotion long suppressed within the angelic hollows of his austerities clamoring to spillover now that he was cradling the very spark responsible for their conflagrations against his breast. Just a universe of secrets and solemn vows held at fevered impasse behind the lockgates of his stoic aspect while you slowly bled out before him.

But this wasn't the time, he reminded himself with merciless discipline. Not with the keen edges of oblivion hovering so near, tracing patterns into the dust that promised imminent incursions given the slightest invitation. Not until he had enacted every protocol and contingency calculation to ensure your light would not only persevere...but also shine on even more brilliantly in the wake of this latest brushstroke against the canvas of your mythos.

No, for now he had to focus every iota of himself into the moment at hand - preserving your physical integrity at all costs while transitioning you to more stable grounds where the extent of your injuries could be professionally diagnosed and treated. Everything else, all the latent poetry of their celestial intertwining and the vows he had undertaken to stand eternal vigil throughout its unfolding, those verses would have to wait.

At least until the immediate threat of mortality had passed, the predations held momentarily at bay by whatever scarce stopgaps could be managed in this blasted arena of wreckage and particulate drift. Once that most primal of emergencies had been quelled and sanity allowed to sift back into the resumed currents distinguishing order from entropy...then and only then could Megumi even begin contemplating indulging the luxuries of emotional candor.

You must have sensed the dialectic warring across his visage, even through the hazy veil of shock and disorientation instilled by your traumas. Either that or recognized the abrupt calcification of his demeanor into something far more implacable and intractable regarding your immediate well-being than you were accustomed.

"Hey...talk to me..." you gasped out faintly, brows knitting in a fleeting flicker of residual defiance. As if already intuiting the stringent shifts in priorities and mindsets now governing Megumi's observances as he began calculating every potential avenue and variable towards procuring your expedient exfiltration. "Don't just...sit there stonewalling me in silence..."

"…"

"Talk to me, dammit!" you rasped out through gritted teeth, eyes flashing defiantly despite your battered state. "Don't just shut me out again like you always do."

Megumi clenched his jaw, the familiar flare of irritation momentarily overshadowing the tenderness cradling him moments before. Old habits died hard, especially where you were concerned.

"I'm a little preoccupied trying to get you out of this death trap, in case you haven't noticed," he bit out, shoulders tensing. Why did you always have to be so stubborn?

You let out a breathless scoff that quickly turned into a pained wince as you instinctively tried to shift away from him. "Yeah, forgive me for wanting more than stony silence from the guy who's treated me like a burden for years."

The accusation sliced deep, dredging up the ever-present well of guilt that Megumi could never quite escape. He opened his mouth to snap back a defensive retort, but what came out instead was something adjacent to the complicated truth.

"You're the furthest thing from a burden," he said roughly. The ragged emotion in his voice made you pause, brow furrowing skeptically even as you stilled against him. "If you knew how much I--"

Megumi cut himself off abruptly, recoiling slightly. He could feel the words trembling on the edge of his lips, threatening to upend the precarious balance he'd spent years constructing between you both. A confounding mix of fear and profound longing warred within him as he searched your questioning gaze.

Somehow you always managed to strip away his layers whether he wanted it or not. He could actually see the undisguised hurt flickering in your eyes at his aborted confession, the unguarded yearning that made his throat go tight.

"How much you what?" you murmured, refusing to let it drop as you always did. Refusing to allow him to retreat back to safety. "Megumi...talk to me."

Your quiet insistence was the tipping point. Suddenly the world narrowed down to the precious inches separating your faces, the soft puffs of your sharing breaths in the debris-laden air. Megumi's control fractured like a dam giving way.

"How much I need you," he confessed in a low rasp. He searched your widened eyes as the words hung between you, weighted with years of repressed wanting. "How much I crave your light, your spirit, with everything I am."

Your lips parted in a stunned inhale as his palms came up to reverently cup your face, holding you suspended in the heavy pause. Megumi felt laid bare in a way he had never allowed, every barrier finally crumbling.

"I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember," he admitted roughly. "Loving you...it haunts me, terrifies me because I couldn't bear for anything to extinguish your brilliance. But I'm so tired of running from how I feel. Of hurting you to keep you away."

He ducked his head then, resting his brow against yours as the rest of the anguished truth poured out in a rush. "You are everything to me, Y/N. Despite my best efforts, I'll never stop loving you with every part of my soul, even if it means risking having my heart shattered—"

The rest of his impassioned confession was cut off by the searing collision of your lips against his own. The kiss was desperately heated from the start, all of the pent-up longing and secret yearnings finally boiling over into this single molten exchange.

Megumi groaned into your mouth, overwhelmed by the feeling of having you in his arms this way at last. He clung to you tightly but carefully, tilting his head to deepen the drugging caresses of your lips moving in fervent tandem.

You gave as good as you got, all thoughts of your injuries temporarily obliterated by the intensity of finally sharing this connection. Your fingers fisted in his hair, tugging him insistently closer as you gave yourself over to the ardent rhythm of lips, teeth and questing tongues.

The kiss went on and on, seeking to pour out every unspoken truth and secret ache through the passionate communion of mouths and roving hands. For once, there was no trying to suppress or deny the blazing need you sharing...only a desperation to drink each other in, to chase the high of intimacy you had both been denying for far too long.

Inevitably, it was your body that enforced reality's harsh homecoming. You suddenly cried out against Megumi's lips, the sharp hiss of pain finally severing the fevered haze of desire. He instantly froze, breath sawing as he carefully extricated himself just enough to see your face contorted in anguish.

"Y/N...?" he choked out hoarsely, gut clenching protectively. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I got carried away and forgot--"

"I'm okay," you managed through a grimace, though your grip on his shirt was white-knuckled. "Don't you dare stop now..."

The vulnerability in your eyes pierced straight through him. Megumi let out a shaky breath, pushing away the lingering guilt as he tugged you closer once more. This time he handled you with exquisite care, countering any jarring movements.

"Let me get you out of this hellhole first," he murmured in your ear, lips brushing the sensitive shell. "Then I'll never let you go again, I swear it."

You gave the barest nod of assent, eyes slipping closed as Megumi gingerly gathered you up to leave the smothering darkness behind.

[i-care-4u]

TALK TO ME | PEDRI

PAIR: PEDRI X FEMALE!READER

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED | MASTERLIST

you were invited to pablo’s party alongside his barcelona teammates and a few others. as you entered, you were immediately greeted by pablo and his sister, aurora.

at this point, you and the gaviras were like family. ever since meeting them because of your guardian’s interactions with their mother, you and the siblings got closer as the ages pass by. although things have changed because of career choices, one thing you can agree on was that barcelona is the move. you love barcelona as much as they do.

“hey guys!” you waved at the gavira siblings and they exchanged a smile towards before coming up to you.

starting with the left cheek, aurora exchanged kisses with you, “you finally made it!”

“i did!” you posed.

pablo joined, “thanks for coming in tonight. feel free to serve yourself some food, and drinks will be right in the fridge.”

you nod to pablo, messing up his hair, “thank you pablito!”

-

after greeting everyone inside the party, you decided to sit down and listen to the recent gossip. you were accompanied by pablo’s friend group.

as people slowly got off the couch, you saw that as your cue to leave somewhere else. however, fermín desperately asked you to stay.

“where are you going?” fermín asked you, “you’re going to miss the best part of the story!”

“i’m going to grab a drink and go outside.” you said as you start making your way into the kitchen. you opened the refrigerator and grabbed one of the drinks. afterwards, you closed the door and made your way into the backyard.

the backyard view looked very beautiful at night. however, there was no one there, or at least you thought so. walking towards the pool, appeared a guy sitting on one of the chairs.

“is someone sitting there?” you knew the answer is no, no one is sitting there, but you used that question as a way to start a conversation with the guy.

“no, you can sit there if you want.”

as you sat down, you started to examine the guy’s face. you were already familiar with his face, although you were unsure if that was his name.

“you must be…”

“pedri, no need to pretend.”

you raised your hands, giving him a sarcastic dirty look, “wow, okay. i was just making sure i was looking at the right person.”

“and you must be y/n. gavi tells me about you.”

“oh, he’s so sweet. you should be lucky to have someone like him.”

“and i am.”

for a brief moment, silence fell between you, with the peaceful sounds of the night wrapping about you like a comfortable blanket. the cold breeze rustled through the leaves, instilling a sense of serenity in your bones. pedri interrupted the pause, his voice soft but full of inquiry. "so, how long have you been friends with pablo and aurora?"

you chuckled quietly, remembering your closeness with the gavira siblings. "we have a long history together. our families have been close for years, and we almost grew up together. it's like they're my second family." pedri nodded in agreement, his face thoughtful. "that is nice. family is vital." you couldn't help but agree, a warm emotion flooding your chest as you remembered your relationship with the gaviras. "oh, definitely. they've always been there for me, through thick and thin."

as the night proceeded, you found yourself deep in discussion with pedri, the words flowing effortlessly as if you had known each other for years. his presence gave you a sense of calm and ease, allowing you to forget about everything else. you were lost in the moment, telling stories, laughing, and even pausing to contemplate quietly. it felt as if time had stopped and the world had shrunk to just the two of you in the black of night.

“so you’re telling me that you never wanted to approach me?” you asked pedri, being in disbelief.

pedri shrugged, “seeing you and the group of girls, i’d say out of everyone, you were the most intimidating.”

“gavi tells me all about you,” you repeated the words pedri said earlier. “don’t tell me he influenced you.”

“he didn’t…clearly you were just out of my league.”

“out of my league as in?”

“one that is getting the people in telling me that i pulled the impossible. one that i can show off to everyone. one that got me looking like the average person when standing next to you, a supermodel-like appearance.”

as the hours went, you developed a peculiar fascination to pedri. there was a magnetic draw between you, a connection that appeared to transcend words and actions. and when you looked into pedri's eyes, you noticed something flicker beneath the surface: a spark of something unsaid, something that mirrored the feelings running through your heart.

"may i?" pedri asked you. you drew in closer, absorbed in the moment's intensity, the distance between you narrowing with each passing second. and when your lips came together in a deep, delicate kiss, the world around you seemed to drift away, leaving only the warmth of pedri's touch and the hammering of your pulse.

lost in the heat of desire, you felt pedri's fingertips trace patterns across your flesh, sending chills down your spine. his touch was electric, setting off a fire of desire that grew stronger with each passing instant.

the need for air eventually separated you, leaving you both breathless and overwhelmed with want. but, even as you gathered your breath, the desire in pedri's eyes indicated that this was far from over. without saying anything, you both rose from your chairs, hands interlaced as you headed towards the house, the anticipation of what lay ahead hanging heavily in the air between you. however, as you approached the door upstairs, a voice shrieked from behind you, stopping you both in your tracks.

"since when were you two a thing?" fermín's voice burst forth, full of wonder. you turned to face him, hot cheeks and beating heart, wondering how to react to his unexpected interruption. but as you met pedri's eyes, you shared a wordless understanding, a mutual acceptance of the emotion that had developed between you.

"we'll talk later," pedri muttered softly, kissing your lips before turning to face fermín, whose expression was unreadable. and as you entered that room together, the anticipation of what was to come hung heavily in the air, a tempting reminder of your love for one another.