#a few stress factors gone at least

[ruinedsam]

BEGONE JANUARY YOU CRUEL MISTRESS AND DIE DIE DIE

[seilon]

shouldn’t have checked my bank account as expected my mother has taken thousands more dollars from my savings and has almost run me dry more or less. Cool!

[fuji-sen]

the 'evil imposter' just wants to be a baker!

Prologue: The Food turned Imposter?!

Part 1: Sunsettias.

[ masterlist ] || [ part 2 ]

🥖🍞🥐🥨🥪🥯🥖🍞🥐🥨🥪🥯🥖🍞🥐🥨🥪🥯🥖🍞🥐🥨🥪🥯

⌞Forest of Color: ⌝

⌞A salad made from fresh fruit and vegetables. Blanch the Grainfruit, chop the other ingredients, drizzle over the sauce, then stir until evenly mixed. Extremely simple to make, but even more importantly, it's so healthy that no matter how much you eat, you won't feel stressed!⌝

You stared at the in-game meal right in front of you, it was a late friday night and you were wasting the hours away curiously reading and looking through the official page that contained all of the food and drinks that could be found in your comfort game, Genshin Impact.

As a student in the culinary course and a rather enthusiastic foodie, one of the factors you always looked for when playing or finding a certain game or watching a particular show was their cuisine!

Just staring at the delicious looking, not-real, food always got your appetite running. Part of your little hobby was trying to even recreate certain dishes like those foodtubers did in youtube! Right now while mentally eating the pixelated dish in your mind, you were also picking the next food you'd try to recreate.

'Perhaps I should pick from star rail, none of the food here has picked my fancy. .' you thought to yourself while leaning back on your chair and making a point to stroke your chin with a thoughtful expression. 'Ah! how about the Mondstadt hash browns, I could even try to make Razor's variant dish!'

Snapping your fingers you immediately went to the kitchens, mentally patting yourself on the back for going grocery shopping the day before. So like usual, in the comfort of your own apartment, you began to cook, then eat and clean up, before retiring to your bedroom, dozing off with a full stomach and a lazy smile.

Z z z. . .

"Huh?" You swat at your face before sneezing, immediately standing up as you felt something tickling your face, what fell from your face and onto your lap was a pristine white feather.

Immediately standing up, finding yourself out of bed, no, out of your own room and seemingly not even in your fucking city as you started at the environment before you. Lush, verdant grass that swayed with the winds. Birds chirping as they flew high and above your form, some scattering the same feathers that made you sneeze.

A wave of fear and confusion washed over you, you were afraid as you began to realize this wasn't a dream when you ran, and ran, and tripped. Part of your pajama pants had been ruined and vaguely you can feel the blood dripped down on your leg from your fresh injury.

Wincing you stand up, not bothering to look as it as you cried out, wondering, where the hell were you?

. . .

It probably took you a few hours to get your bearings, sitting by a tree as you hugged your knees and contemplated your existence, did you screw with some God or Rich Asshole and they decided to kidnap you and dump you in the middle of nowhere as revenge?

Nah, you were antisocial, so screwing with some rich guy was highly unlike with your lack of a social life. You bit your nails, was it God? "At least give me a sign of where I am!" you shout frustrated as you pulled at your locks.

"Ouch!" Wincing, you rubbed the top part of your head as something fell on it, the perpetrator was round, yellow and orange in color. Your eyes widened, silently grabbing it as you ignored the now dulling pain in your head. .

It was plump, fragrant. .

you bit it.

It tasted sweet.

you ignored the juice that dribbled down you chin as you nodded, yes, this was how you imagined Sunsettia's would taste like base on it's description.

you blinked, jaw dropping.

Sunsettias. .

fuck you were in Teyvat, basically Genshin Impact.

A part of you felt like you were screwed, considering how all of your worldly possessions were gone, and you were here in nothing but your pockets. One hand went to pat the pockets of your pajamas. .

Eyes lighting up as you felt something, pulling that item out, you were speechless as your hand simply held an old expired coupon for some ramen. . .

screwed it is then.

🥖🍞🥐🥨🥪🥯🥖🍞🥐🥨🥪🥯🥖🍞🥐🥨🥪🥯🥖🍞🥐🥨🥪🥯

I need to find a banner to use for the series, also also although I put in Baker, the reader will also make dishes, both from in-game and in real lifeee so if you want a particular dish featured in a future chapter, add the recommended dish in my ASKS so it can be a surprise for other readers! Please also add information about that dish since I may most likely not be familiar with themm

[blainesebastian]

first christmas (ccg universe) 

words: 1,913 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request) “Austin and Wife (reader) and they have a baby together and its their first Christmas as a family of three”  notes: masterlist on my sidebar :) will be posting more fics after Christmas. hope everyone has a great holiday! warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylesmendeshearted

It’s almost ironic that you spend most of your time when you’re working on set praying not to get sick. Like it’s literally a mantra of some kind, worrying if a little sniffle is allergies or a cold, a sore throat stress or something worse, and usually you’re able to keep good vibes combined with Vitamin C and make it through with no issues.

So of course the universe said—you’re finally on break for Christmas and you’re sick.

You suppose you shouldn’t be too surprised—it’s been nonstop for you and Austin ever since you had your baby, Luci, a month ago. Being constantly drawn into the public eye for films, interviews, events and then on top of it, being parents, you knew it was going to be a complicated and stressful journey. But neither of you have any regrets, and you can’t find the right words to express how utterly happy you are with your little family. Austin too, you can see it in his eyes every time he holds his daughter, when he draws you close for a kiss.

It's something you wouldn’t trade for the world.

But being on cloud nine and stress factor eleven, consistently, with not really a break in-between? It definitely takes a toll.

Three days into your Christmas vacation, all the decorations set and gifts bought, and you’re fighting off this bug that has you feeling congested and tired. Before you fell asleep last night, you could see it in Austin’s eyes as he made you a cup of tea—he’s worried. Not just about you, though obviously that’s one of his main priorities, but he’s also concerned about handling Luci on his own.

It's not that Luci doesn’t adore him, she does, but it’s…clear she’s a bit of a mama’s girl to start. You make jokes that it’s all about the milk and feeding but there’s only so many times that she’s gonna cry in Austin’s face when you pass her off to him before he starts to get offended. It’s all one big learning experience, you know both know that, but it doesn’t eliminate the sting of your daughter preferring one parent over the other…and she’s not even a moody teenager yet.

You feel like it’s utterly a shock to you, being some sort of natural with kids—you wouldn’t have bet on that in a lifetime. You’re not one to assume things are automatically going work out for you, so it’s surprising that this does, at least for right now. You assure your husband that it has everything to do with that time in the womb, the bonding, that feeling of connectedness. You’re sure it has something to do with it, right?

You hear some shuffling in the living room and that’s what wakes you up, running a hand over your face and sniffling as you squint at the clock on your bedside table. Three-thirty. Groaning lightly, you press your face into the pillow and reach across the bed, palm hitting cold sheets.

Austin’s been long gone from them.

As you sit up, you realize it’s him in the living room, and he’s crooning softly. You can’t quite tell what song he’s singing, but it’s most likely Blue Christmas because of course it is. Pulling the sheets back, you shiver as you reach for a sweatshirt and tug it over your head, grabbing the sleeves to yank down over your hands.

Feet into slippers on the floor, you move slowly to open your bedroom door and wander down the hall. It’s then you hear the choruses of crying mixing with Austin attempt to soothe your daughter, talking (pleading) with her and running through a few Christmas renditions that he can remember off the top of his head. Curling your hair around your ear, you lean against the living room doorframe, your eyes finding him pacing back and forth—from the tree to the fireplace with Luci against his chest.

She’s crying in earnest, her cheeks flushed red. You wince a little at the sound and the dramatics, Austin soothing her with warm shh’s and rubbing her back in patient circles. Admittedly, it’s not a bad sight to see, your husband with Luci in his arms, trying his best to soothe her. The lights are low, the warm glow of the Christmas lights on the garland resting on the mantel and sparkling in the tree creating something comforting that Luci is not grasping yet.

“I know, I know,” Austin murmurs, his hand moving to cup the back of her head.

Your mom’s told you before that sometimes babies just need to cry but it never feels as simple when you’ve got one wailing in your arms and it seems like they might never stop. You think it’s silly for Luci to play favorites with you—how could she not completely adore Austin? Maybe you’re just bias—a soft smile tugging the corners of your mouth as you think about the gentle blue of his eyes, those wild curls that tuff along his forehead, the soothing quality of his voice, especially when he’s singing. He’s your favorite for sure.

“She giving you a hard time?” You ask, moving to perch yourself on the arm of the couch.

A soft noise that sounds like amusement leaves Austin’s nose, “Nothin’ but trouble,” He teases as he gently bounces her, “Sorry we woke you.”

You wave him off gently, your gaze wandering to the Christmas tree for a moment. Definitely one of your favorite sights of the holidays and it’s one of those weird kinda moments because, even though that tree has been up countless holidays you and Austin have spent together, this year’s completely different. A soft smile tugs the corners of your mouth as you notice that ornament Ashley got you both, the baby’s first Christmas printed on a trio of polar bears. It’s cute.

“I wasn’t sleepin’ too sound anyways.” You assure him.

Austin shifts her from one side of his chest to another, his thumb smoothing back and forth along her neck, “Fever?”

You shake your head, “No, just generally miserable. And I missed you in bed.”

Austin chuckles lightly, “Well I think that makes one of you. Luci’s about to hold her own mutiny if I don’t pass her over soon.”

And while Austin is obviously joking, you can hear that slight tilt in his voice—nearly unrecognizable if you didn’t know him, that he’s genuinely worried that he’s fucking up this whole parenting thing. Your heart aches for him because…he’s wonderful, he’s everything that you’d want as a partner and as a father for Luci. Moments like this, when it’s hard? Of course it feels less true to him.

Right after you gave birth, you were having trouble breastfeeding. And it’s one of those things where it felt incredibly important for you to be able to do, not just for the baby’s health but…in your own mind, something that really highlighted you crossing the threshold into motherhood. It had felt so easy to do it in the hospital but then you struggled without the guidance of the nurse when you came home—you can remember feeling that sort of helplessness, unworthiness, frustration. Especially when you tried to call the assistance number the hospital gave you when you left, the woman on the other end of the phone making you feel terrible that you couldn’t figure it out that you ended up crying.

There’s a twitch of a smile at the corners of your mouth at recalling Austin’s reaction—grabbing the phone with a protective, firm tone as he asks, “what did you say to my wife?”

“You’re doing perfectly,” You assure him, important for him to know it. You sniffle and run a hand through your hair, “Did you try wrapping her up?”

Austin lets out a breath, “Feel like I’ve tried everythin’.” He chuckles before moving to a blanket you keep on the back of the couch. He sits down near you, laying the blanket out on his legs. Setting Luci down, he begins to swaddle her but not too tight.

“Yeah just—hold her for a few moments.” You reach out and run your fingers through the blonde curls in the front part of his hair.

Austin draws Luci into his chest, keeping her close as he looks up at you. A soft smile pulls at your mouth and you lean down to brush a kiss along his hairline in solidarity. Luci’s still a bit fussy but you can sense her starting to calm and she does settle, much more content with Austin holding her, rocking her.

Austin shakes his head, moving the one arm that’s not holding Luci to rest his hand on your thigh. He rubs gently, thumb brushing over your knee, “How’d you know that would work?”

A soft laugh vibrates in your chest because it’s definitely not a science, “Sometimes babies just need to cry…other times they like feeling like a burrito.”

Austin laughs and nods, moving to stand up with Luci again to keep rocking her, hoping she’ll fall asleep. He cups your cheek, brushing his lips along your forehead…as if you can’t tell he’s subtlety checking for a fever.

“Go back to sleep, alright?” He says softly, “I’ll join you soon.”

You stand from the couch and nod, brushing your hand along the crown of Luci’s head before moving to walk down the hallway. Turning to briefly look over your shoulder, you watch as Austin holds his daughter, beginning to sing a Christmas tune under his breath.

Definitely an image you don’t mind going back to sleep with.

--

There’s a stillness on Christmas morning that can’t be replicated—after breakfast, a few presents having been opened, two mugfuls of coffee, it settles on the living room like the snow outside the window. Big, fat flakes gently fluttering down.

Luci is sleeping soundly (for now) in a bassinet near the couch and Austin lets out a long sigh as he settles next to you on the floor near the Christmas tree. He settles his hand along your leg, rubbing back and forth in small circles.

You smile a little, “You know one of my favorite ways to look at a Christmas tree?”

He shakes his head, curious, and you shuffle away from the tree a bit before lying down, taking him with you. A soft chuckle leaves his lips as you lay side by side, shoulders and up underneath the Christmas tree. You tilt your head back a little, looking straight up through the branches of the artificial tree, seeing nothing but patchworks of twinkling multi-colored lights.

“Why is this your favorite?” Austin asks, turning his head a bit to look at you.

“I dunno,” You admit with a laugh before thinking about it a moment, then, “I guess because it’s something I always used to do with my dad when I was little.” You shrug, inching a bit closer to Austin so your shoulders brush. “Just nostalgic.”

He’s quiet for a few moments, nodding, turning his head back to look up through the branches as well. “Somethin’ we can do with Luci.”

You can’t help but grin, stomach fluttering at his words. Reaching your fingers down, your hand brushes his. It’s all it takes for Austin to take your palm against his own, lacing your fingers, his thumb tracing the coolness of the wedding band on your finger.

You love that thought.

[ace-of-gay]

Little mouse in an ocean

Stucky x little reader

Word count: 1,803 words oops lol

Warnings: intense sensory overload that leads to a more internalized meltdown, loki shows up, sippy, caregiver names like daddy, and dada, little names like baby boy, and munch short ofr munchkin, fidget items, sound canceling headphones, chest binding, comfort items.

Edited to the best of my ability

Age regression is a coping mechanism, if your not knowledgeable and uncomfortable of the topic either read up on it or ignore please <3

Reader is a trans man, no weight, ethnicity or hair type mentioned, reader is at least slightly able bodied in this

Dont like it dont read it especially when theres warnings

You’d been anticipating the event for a while so it didn't sneak up on you or anything but the Impending stress of having to mask for several hours and converse with people like it was on your everyday agenda, this was nothing of how you liked it, well beyond the several month warning, it gave you time to prepare both mentally and physically, gathering items you would need incase of a worst case scenario in a messenger bag, ranging from two different means of music, noise canceling headphones around the front part of the strap, Bluetooth earbuds fully charged and inside of the most front pouch accompanied by an infinity cube graced with rubber edges to not click like a normal cube, not wanting to bring attention to your discomfort in any situation.

Your favorite book, a couple small sweet and salty snacks depending on the situational needs, alongside a comfort snack , your smaller communication cards, a few more fidgets and essential items.

Bucky and Steve helped pack this bag for you, it being perfectly assembled for anything you could possibly need.

With that Bucky took you out to find a nice casual suit with fabrics that don’t irritate you.

All the small things arranged, it had your mind settled enough not to stress through the remaining time.

That is until you got there, when walking into the event hall you tug on the bottom of the jacket to your suit, adjusting it, "do you even pass?", whether or not you’re shorter, curvier, if your voice is deep enough , or if your handshake was firm enough, what ever your though in comparison may have been the idea of not passing was terrifying, Steve walking on your left puts his right hand on your shoulder leaning in, "you look handsome, i promise you’re absolutely perfect" his whispers calmed the choppy waters in your mind from becoming rapids.

You worked with some of these people, you knew a good portion of faces, knew even more names, your social analyzing has you determining who is good to talk to and who isn’t purely based on how they carry themselves, the people they talk to and how people look when they walk away, all factors you use to keep you most comfortable.

The best places to be in situations are either outside separate from people or around the food table where most often people are too occupied with collecting snacks and other food items, keeping your talking to a minimum and keeping your social battery higher for longer.

You figured you’d head over that way if it felt dire but for now you stuck with Bucky and Steve.

Trailing through the large people filled room, your boyfriends on each side of you to keep unwanted physical touch to a minimum.

Director fury approaches you three, shaking each persons hands, you know fury pretty well, the conversation going quick and simple, just as easy as the night had gone so far until people started ushering Steve one way and Bucky the other, leaving you disoriented, not entirely sure who you should go with, the confused lapse in time has you loosing them in the crowd, that’s okay, you’re big right now, you can fend for yourself, maybe find Nat or Thor, maybe Thor forced Loki to come along with.

That would be nice, a silent companion to keep you company while sitting in a dark corner avoiding most interactions, actually corners probably have the most amount of echo, at least perspective wise that is, you'd be able to hear everyone and than being next to a corn means you’re closer to the sound reflection hearing it twice, that’s something that would absolutely irritate you, possibly even give you a splitting headache.

Being in this room no one by your side, having to navigate your way through a crowd of now unfamiliar faces, peoples conversations bouncing off of one another, high heels going in all directions, clicking like shark teeth in infested feeding water, social vampires, maybe not everyone but gods did it feel like everyone.

People feasting off of communication, jingling keys like lures, or maybe bells, like the service indication bell in your local comfort food restaurant, so many indications, so many people, all sounds equally intrusive you just want to shut it out but you cant until you’re in a place where no one will question why you have headphones on at a party.

A constantly shifting maze of people, hands patting your back as people pass through the crowd, a few people stopping you for conversations that you try to keep to a minimum saying you’re looking for Bucky or Steve.

Standing in such a room alone, you would be able to feel the air currents change but this room packed with more people than an official tony stark party, it felt like the air itself had stiffened and is on the brink of collapsing in your lungs, it felt suffocating to the point holding your breath would be a better means of keeping yourself together than breathing at all.

With everything swirling, people constantly touching you, talking to you, your mind slips fast, in moments like this you put on chapstick and pretend its superglue so not to make a cosmic fool of yourself if you could even manage to get words out.

You finally make it out of the crowd only to realize most of the drinks are probably spiked, you refrain from drinking anything you don’t know, you make a b line to the patio door stepping out into the cool fresh air, the bite of cold in your lungs amongst a deep breath being the edge of the blade, it was soothing, so soothing that everything from inside broke loose, a quiet choked sob broke from your chest, if you were big right now you would know what to do but you feel so small, so very small, like a mouse in the ocean next to a baleen whale.

Your hands trembling as though electricity was pulsing through your veins, rapidly looking around, dazed vision making everything quite unclear, bumping into someone you begin to stumble back, just your luck, both big and small you know that waterfall of black locks anywhere, and he knew you.

Loki, one person who understood the entirety of the situation, carefully he leads you aside, "you’re okay, its going to be okay, we'll find Bucky and Steve" mumbling it out quietly, the first vast difference between him and the room, his voice like Bucky and Steve’s voices was safe.

He takes the headphones off the front strap of your messenger bag, helping you put them on over your ears, feeling the world go silent, sound has pressure so the lack of sound felt less like a kick drum in your ears and more like a deep breath in winter air.

Taking the communication cards out of your bag he finds two cards, showing each one, you look at him with big eyes, tears still threatening to spill you show him the mouse card.

Small.

He nods, handing you one of the small fidgets, closing your bag and taking your hand, into his cold delicate one.

He signals for you to take a few deep breaths with him and than you’re once again back into the warped room, warm of people, sharp of knowing all the sounds, he leads you through the very best route but even still people are bumping into your, patting your back when passing and trying to stop you in your tracks.

You can see Steve’s golden hair practically glowing, you let go of Loki’s hand trying to rush past people to your boyfriend but another sturdy intruding body gets in the way, bumping you causing you to drop your fidget, looking to the ground to find it.

A small mouse in the ocean amongst a group of narwhals in the eye of a thunderstorm.

Electricity raging in your hands, in your arms, in your chest and in a split second your dominant hand slams down hard onto your thigh three times just above your knee, grabbing your fidget, doing your best to hold back the electricity, you watch as Steve turns around.

Its as if he’s in slow motion, you cant get to him fast enough, you’re being held against his chest, holding tightly to his shirt fabric creasing in your grasp, he’s talking to Loki getting the most of what he can on what happened.

He has you turn around so you can walk but your eyes are closed he’s directing you through, making sure nothing touches you.

You feel the cool air touch your tear streaked cheeks cooling the tear trails.

Sitting in the car you wait for Bucky, eating one of your snacks and drinking a water based drink Steve had poured into a spare sippy he kept in the car.

"I’m so sorry munch, i turned away and you were gone, we didn't mean to put you through that, I’m so proud of you for finding Loki and letting him help", you nuzzle further into his side, touch may be unsafe but theirs was magic.

Bucky hops in the front seat turning to look at you and Stevie cuddled together in the back, reaching out for Bucky he takes your hand and holds it to his lips, he can tell just how small you are from how easy you are to maneuver. "Hi baby boy, daddy is here, lets go home now, is that okay?" You didn't respond, you were too busy feeling the metal plates of his hand.

The drive home was quick, tucked into dada Steve’s side, feeling the thrum of his heart in his chest between each breath, now inside in comfortable clothes and out of your binder one of Steve’s hoodies on you with the sleeves rolled up so your hands could peek out, laying safely between both of your caregivers, the havoc of the day having tired you out.

Bucky gets a notification saying that the food he ordered was delivered, he leaves only to return with dinner and your stuffy he picked up from the living room on his way back.

Little jerks and jolts here and there from remnant electricity occasionally causing you to hold your breath only for one of your daddies to find a new way to remind you to breathe, this time dada Stevie tapped the tip of your nose causing you to quietly coo, breathing.

Words aren’t an expectation, neither are sounds, they just want you to feel better and if that means holding you safely tucked between them than so be it, they would do anything and everything to keep their boy safe.

Because they’re with you til the end of the line.

This is twice as long as i meant for it to be but you absolutely deserve a longer fic, thank you so much for your patience and thank you for requesting <33 @valetim09

I had to fix the layout because for some odd reason it got all mixed up

[pessimisticoptimistsblog]

A/N: So I finally rewatched the pilot and realized that the extermination happened before the interview Charlie did 🤦‍♀️ BUT! I’m just going to roll with it being set up my way because it’s honestly not a huge factor imo. Anyway, here’s chapter 2!

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 2

Deal With the Devil

It had been 2 days since the annual extermination, and Madame C and Nia were taking the final calls confirming their clients were all accounted for. It had been close with a few of the more reckless sinners, but thankfully, only a couple of scrapes and bruises had been reported. The real scare had been the inane turf-war on the west side that resulted in a hell hound being put out of work for at least a month. He had been new and inexperienced and made a stupid mistake, resulting in Madame C having to reorganize her roster to cover for his absence. White gloved hands dragged down her shadowed face, the stress from the last few days, and her upcoming meeting with the king of hell himself had made for a headache that pulsed behind her eyes. Nia could feel her boss’s frustration practically rolling off of her, but the she-wolf just focused harder on doing the final check-in.

“Fiona and Gus are good - their charge is accounted for with no issues. And that was the last client we needed to account for! No sinners lost this year, so everyone will get a 1% increase on their next renewal and we all get our bonuses! Yes! I’ve been looking forward to this, got a new bike I’ve had my eyes on for a while now.” Nia began to ramble on about the specs of the motorcycle she hoped to buy as Madame C relaxed back into her chair and watched the she-wolf become more and more animated.

The shadow demon was glad her assistant had found a bright side; Madame C hated any hiccups on extermination days, but at least this year was minor and she could now place her focus on her meeting with Lucifer tomorrow. Time had flown these last few days, her nerves becoming more frazzled as the meeting grew closer. If Lucifer couldn’t help her, at least then she’d know her only hope would be God which meant being voiceless would be forever; but if he just wouldn’t help… well, she’d rather not think of how she’d respond.

Nia closed her notebook loudly startling Madame C out of her thoughts, “Welp, that’s it for all this, boss! I think we’re done for today, a little early too. Should give you plenty of time to prepare whatever speech you plan on giving tomorrow since we both know you probably won’t sleep!” The she-wolf gave a wry grin to her boss, the woman barely slept as it was, it was no doubt her current state of mind had left her unable to rest.

*I’ve had a speech planned for almost 300 years, I’m over-thinking it at this point,” a small grin from Madame C as she paused her hands for a moment. *I do agree, we should stop for today. An early night may help me get some sleep.*

“Can’t argue with the boss! An early night sounds fucking great, I’ve got a couple sleeping pills from Sloth I’ve been dying to try. Don’t worry, though, I won’t be late tomorrow!” During her talk, Nia had gathered her purse and begun heading towards the office doors. Before exiting she looked back at Madame C one last time, “Try to get a little sleep, okay? I’ve got a feeling you’re gonna need all the energy you can get.” And then the hell hound was gone, leaving the shadow demon to gather the rest of the papers on the desk before heading to the file room.

After placing the files in their proper spots and grabbing an energy bar from the kitchen, Madame C headed to the basement where a small gym had been installed as a perk for her employees. And at the very back of the room stood a door only she had a key for, her private studio. After living in hell as long as she had, the shadow demon’s home had been destroyed and rebuilt more times than she cared to remember. This room had stood the test of time, though, and now stood at the base of her building in Pentagram City, protected on all sides by thick concrete and other rooms beyond that. It was the only room Madame C lifted her shadows, besides her room and the curtains were always closed in there.

Locking the door behind her, the woman lifted he cloak of darkness before looking around at her personal sanctuary. The room was fairly plain, mats lined half of the floor for when she wanted to work out, the other half was wood with a small rack of weights, a rolled up yoga mat, a couple bo staffs, and a large mirror that took up most of the wall. Madame C began stretching her arms while looking in the mirror; without her shadows, she was reminded of how human she still looked. Her father had pushed her down here when she had just turned 17 and she had only aged a few years since now looking at most in her mid 20s. Her slow aging was the only perk she was happy to have inherited from her father. She had her mother’s upturned nose, green eyes she was told were her grandmother’s accompanied by dark circles that seemed permanent at this point, and was just over 5 feet tall. Her brown hair was still unruly, now reaching the middle of her shoulder blades. She hated it, her mother’s family all had light blonde hair, but brown hair was entirely her father’s contribution. Thankfully, the only other thing she got from her father were her wings that she always kept tightly pressed to her back.

Tying her hair back and removing her dress to reveal workout shorts and a sports bra, the young woman began to stretch eager to burn off some nervous energy.

~The next day~

Madame C and Nia stood on Lucifer’s doorstep having just knocked on the ornate door. “This place is kinda not as bad as I expected. Figured the king of Hell would have a fancier place, honestly. Not that this isn’t! It’s just, ya know, not what I imagined, that’s all. Also, like how long does it take for someone to op-“ the she-wolf’s nervous rambling was cut off as an imp opened the door before inviting the two women in. He led them up a set of stairs and down a couple hallways before stopping outside of a simple door. He knocked twice before opening it and letting Nia and her boss inside then bowed as he closed the door and left.

The walls were covered in portraits and photos of the royal family and the sins. Nia and Madame C glanced around taking all of them in as well as the desk and large chair sat in front of a floor length window with the curtains drawn closed. In the chair sat Lucifer, his head propped up on one fist while his other hand twirled a pen, boredom clear on his face. Madame C knew of the kings dislike for sinners so she hadn’t expected him to be excited, but his expression set her nerves alight all over again.

“Come, sit. Charlie said this was important, so tell me what it is you need and I’ll decide if it’s something I want to do,” Lucifer droned. His eyes appraised each woman, brows drawing together slightly at seeing one entirely cloaked in darkness.

Nia made it to her seat first with Madame C close behind. After settling, they looked at each other and Madame C began to sign while Nia interpreted. *I am known as Madame C amongst the sinners, you may just call me C if you like. I don’t know what your daughter has told you but I am here to ask if you know of a spell that could break a seal placed by a powerful man. He sealed half of my soul and my voice when I arrived in hell so that I would never be able to reveal his transgressions.* They had rehearsed this part on the drive here, but the demon’s hands still shook lightly, her chest already beginning to constrict from the seal. The two women watched as Lucifer rested his elbows on his desk and placed his chin on his clasped hands. He was staring Madame C down, searching for something, but the demon didn’t know what.

He seemed to have found what it was as he opened his mouth, a resolve clear on his face, “You’re hiding some pretty important details. Either tell me everything, or I won’t even consider helping.” A scowl was set on his face now, and the female demon knew she had no choice but to reveal all of her cards.

Nia reached over to grasp one white gloved hand to show her support. Slowly, the shadowy veil lifted from Madame C to reveal her true form covered in a knee-length, long-sleeved black dress with her hair tied back neatly into a bun, a couple pieces framing her face. She averted her green eyes to the floor, not ready to see anyone’s reaction to her.

Taking a slow deep breath, she began to sign again, *I was 17 when my father found me…*

~Flashback~

Year 1470

She could barely catch her breath, the man- no, the angel was faster than anyone she had ever ran from and he had finally cornered her. She stared at him in fear, wishing she had had more time to train her newfound wings, maybe then she could have escaped him. His eyes were furious, a scowl deep set on his face yet not a hair out of place. Not far behind him she saw a petite woman, another angel judging by her wings, with short white hair catching up as well. Together, their golden eyes held the young girl frozen in place, she knew she was caught.

“Ya know, your mom was a real bitch. What kind of ‘good Christian’ woman seduces an angel? Props to her for actually having you, I guess, but you being alive ain’t really good for my image. Half-breeds aren’t allowed as is, but especially mine? The big-wigs definitely wouldn’t look past that. So unfor-“ Adam was cut off abruptly.

“What are you talking about?! How can you be my father? My mother said my father was a farmer, not an angel. And she would never lie to me! Who even are you?” The girl was yelling by the end, out of breath once again with green eyes wide and confused.

The two angels approached again, the girl toppling back, trying to maintain distance. “Who am I? Bitch, I’m Adam! THE first man, the original man! Also, the reason you’ve got those little wings starting to grow out of your back there, but that doesn’t matter. I’m fucking important, and I can’t have a half-breed ruining what I’ve got up in heaven. Sooo, Lute, you wanna take over?” Adam held his hand toward the other angel now know as Lute as a sadistic grin came over her face.

“We’re going to send you to hell where you belong. And we’re going to make sure you never tell another soul anything. Ever. Again!” Lute grabbed the girl by her shirt collar, lifting her off the ground and closer to her face. “Maybe, if you’re lucky, your whore mommy will still be down there. She probably died again, though, so don’t get your hopes up,” Lute’s grin was sadistic, showing no remorse.

A portal opened under them, Lute flying in, still holding Adam’s daughter with Adam close behind. They landed in a barren area of the pride ring on the outskirts of the growing Pentagram City, the white-haired angel throwing their captive to the hard ground. Adam pulls a book out of his white robes and flips straight to an ear-marked page. His eyes scanned the page, head nodding as he read it over, “Alrighty, just need to draw this thing on your chest - Lute, you mind ripping this shit?” Adam motioned to the young girl’s chest covered by a high necked dress. Lute complied immediately, the girl barely fighting, still in shock by everything happening. “Cool! Now, I just do a little this, and that… What’d you say your name was again? Need that for the seal,” he stared expectantly.

“C-Caelwen. But please-“

Adam didn’t give her a chance to finish before he pushed her back into the ground and motioned Lute to hold her shoulders down. “Listen, kid, I can’t have this reaching heaven. I’ve got a great gig up there, and you’re not gonna ruin it. And I can’t exactly kill you, so this will have to do. Just stay still and let me finish this shit so Lute and I can get the fuck out of here, okay?” Adam didn’t give her a chance to talk again, pricking his finger to add a drop of his blood to the seal he had drawn on her chest. He mumbled a few strange words and suddenly Caelwen felt a fiery heat surround her that began to rapidly squeeze her. It felt like it cut through her body before clenching around her heart. She tried to scream, but nothing came out.

After a couple minutes, the heat settled to a dull burn, and the girl looked to where her two captors stood watching her to make sure their plan had worked. She tried to ask what they had done, but again, nothing came out. Over and over, she tried screaming, yelling, crying, yet nothing escaped her. The angels looked down at her, grins nearly splitting their faces, it had worked.

“Listen, I hate to split before we can bond or whatever, kid, but I’ve got some important shit to take care of in heaven. So, get comfy. You’ll be spending the rest of your life here, unable to ever tell a soul what happened without killing yourself.” Adam’s aura had darkened, making the girl cower further into the ground. “Don’t worry, though! I’m sure a little demon will be along soon to kill you. Have fun!” With that, Lute and Adam flew off into a new portal leaving Caelwen on her own, her dress ripped, and a seal burned into her chest that was fading quickly. Everything hit her all at once, and she dissolved into sobs, wishing she could have stopped them somehow.

~End Flashback~

Madame C, Caelwen, clutched a hand to her chest, doubling over as tears threatened to fall. Her chest burned, and she was shaking, trying to hold in the pain she felt. She could only think it felt like having her heart ripped out with a hand consumed by fire. Nia reached out for her boss, distraught to see her boss in so much pain. Caelwen shakily waved her off, doing her best to sit back up and look towards Lucifer. She was taken aback at the man in front of her, unsure of how to take his response.

Lucifer was seething. He had known heaven wasn’t fond of Nephilim, they had outlawed their creation when the first one was simply proposed and any that were created had their souls reaped within their first 2 years of life by the angel of death. To know now that one had slipped under their radar just to be thrown into his domain and left for dead by her own heavenly father, he was pissed. Adam was a dick to begin with and now this? All to avoid the consequences of his actions.

Lucifer looked to the Nephilim in front of him, seeing her pained expression, he recalled the last part of her story and reached a clawed hand towards her hoping his abilities could lessen the effects of her seal. Once she seemed to relax slightly, Lucifer relaxed and reigned in his anger, he couldn’t hurt Adam due to their agreement, but he could certainly do his part to make the cocky angel pay. “I can’t say for certain that I have the exact book we’ll need, but I will do everything in my power to help you. Unfortunately, if I don’t have what we need, it’s most likely in heaven and it takes time to get a meeting with them if they’re not interested.” Lucifer reached across his desk for Caelwen’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “For tonight, you can sleep here- in a guest room so I can make sure the curse on that seal doesn’t have another wave. And tomorrow, we can start searching the archives. Miss. Nia, you are welcomed to stay as well if you wish. But I do have a decent grasp on sign language if there are other matters you’re needed for?” The king looked between the two women for an answer.

*Go home and rest. Tomorrow you can handle my meeting with Velvette and cancel the others. I’ll call for you if we need you. Thank you. For everything* Caelwen then placed a hand on Nia’s knee, hoping to convey her gratitude the vest she could while still in pain.

Nia grasped her hand in reassurance, “Don’t worry boss lady, I can handle the mutts and assholes while you figure this out.” The she-wolf’s easy grin eased the other girls mind, she knew her assistant could more than handle the office and any bullshit their clients threw their way. Nia rose from her chair and headed towards the door, stopping to wave goodbye to her boss before leaving.

“Let’s get you into a bed so you can rest, okay?” Lucifer’s voice was gentle as he reached for the young girl, noticing her wings peaking out of her dress now that he was above her. Caelwen nodded, looking up at him before placing her hand in his outstretched one. Standing proved difficult as her legs shook and then gave out beneath the Nephilim, with Lucifer quickly scooping her up with a soft ‘I’ve got ya’. Seeing how exhausted the girl was, Lucifer opted to portal to a guest room near his own in case any problems arose during the night. Although it took no time at all, Caelwen was out cold when Lucifer laid her in down in the bed. Seeing her face relaxed in sleep, he could finally take in her features and couldn’t help but notice she certainly inherited the angelic beauty. A clawed hand reached out to brush a stray hair from her face before he quickly shook his head and portaled to his own room, they had a difficult task ahead and he’d need all the sleep he could get.

A/N – I have edited and reread this chapter so many times today. I’m still not completely happy, but if I don’t post it now I’ll scrap it and hate myself later. But, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Chapter 3 probably won’t be out until Saturday because of work, but maybe sooner, we’ll see.

Tag List:

@leximus98

[bookaddict24-7]

2024 Reading Goals!

I'm always a bit more lax with my reading goals because I never really know how a year is going to treat me--the last thing I need is stress over my reading (which is admittedly my biggest escape from life). BUT with that being said, making some goals that aren't set in stone is always a fun exercise!

Eleven Reading Goals I'd Like to Achieve in 2024:

Read at least 250 books. (I listen to a lot of audiobooks, so this isn't usually a major stress factor. Even if I wanted to read less, my reading addiction wouldn't really allow it. When I'm not reading, I'm thinking about reading. It's just who I am. BUT keep in mind that this is my goal based on my reading habits. everyone has a different reading habit!)

Finish, or nearly finish the Sookie Stackhouse series. (Of course, this is super dependant on when I get the audiobooks from the library LOL.)

Finish the books on my desk. (I have...a few started books on here. It's cluttering up the space and I feel like I just really want to read them but I'm a mood reader, so...)

(Fourth Wing is a re-read that I was annotating and dropped when something new came out and my attention was stolen away.)

4. Read a few books from each bookshelf of my bedroom. (I already went through the shelves last week and assigned myself a handful of books or so from each shelf for each month of 2024. I just want to specifically target some of the books on my shelves to encourage myself to read more of my owned books. Maybe I should share that progress on here to keep myself accountable. Hm...)

5. Continue to DNF books I don't like. (This is a practice I've been using for the last couple of years, but I also want to remind anyone reading this that it is OK to put down that book you're not vibing with. Life is too short.)

6. Read more formats, not just audiobooks. (I LOVE audiobooks and owe them so much. But I also do sometimes miss having the attention span to read physically. I read a lot more physical books in November & December and I loved it. Also, I pay for KU, so I might as well use it more in 2024.)

7. Try to buy less books. (Seriously, I've gone off the deep end in the last four months. I need to rein it back in. Maybe I should keep a monthly track of it to remind myself not to do the book buying thing as much.)

8. Diversify my reading even more. (Pretty self-explanatory, I think.)

9. Continue to review every book I read this year. (I've been doing this for the past couple of years and it has felt both a bit overwhelming and super rewarding. I love that I can look back on these last few years and read my opinion of whatever books I read during those years.)

10. Unhaul more books. (Life is too short and my shelves are too full to keep books I felt meh about, or don't think I need. Trust me: the first unhaul is the hardest, but after that, it's a little too easy to unhaul books.)

11. Read more of my ARCs. (They are currently staring at me from their designated shelves. I WILL read my very old ARCs at some point in my life, hopefully some will be in 2024.)

___

What are some of your goals for 2024?

___

Thank you for being with me throughout another year of book blogging and post sharing! I hope everyone has a fantastic year full of reading and good health!

___

Happy reading!

[sillyparker]

(mcu!)Peter's love for Spider-Man

I saw a few reddit comments that frankly really bothered me, so I just wanted to ramble about how Peter being somewhat bothered by having to be Spider-Man in ffh and nwh (ffh esp) is more than insanely justified. He will never hate being Spider-Man, infact i think his trauma likely will spur him on to do more and more, either as an escape or a chance to help people the way he hadn't been helped, either way I believe post nwh Peter definitely still finds his joy in being Spider-Man, it'd be literally impossible to just up and make him stop. This part is more of a personal hc before I get into the rest of the post, but I think if he desired to give Spider-Man up after everything, he would have chosen to make the world forget that instead, from what I understand it would have still relieved his troubles, as nobody knows who Spider-Man is, so why would they know Peter?

Far From Home. People take the way Peter acts during the film as him no longer liking being Spider-Man, and it frankly feels very.. ignorant of like literally everything Peter has gone through, honestly. ffh is post endgame, which good fucking god - that is the most trauma inducing experience any possible 15 (16?) year old teen could endure, now im talking both infinity war and endgame, because both are just as bad. In infinity war, he obviously fights alot, not as much as he does in the second film, but it's still very rough, and well he sorta dies, which I'm sure takes a rather extreme toll on him as he could likely feel absolutely everything happening, because of his healing factor, and spidey sense, it's just a very very scary experience, hell I wouldn't be shocked if Peter was drop dead terrified everytime he felt his spidey sense, (he isn't, but I wouldn't put it past being very possible).

And, in endgame he had to hold the gauntlet for an extended period of time from an insane amount of creatures, he literally was holding the future of the entire world in his hands, I would imagine that'd be actually very, very scary. He's consistently put in unfair positions and made to just 'deal' with it, I'm sure he expected some of this but I cant firmly believe he thought he'd end up in such a crazy situation. Now, most obviously the very big part of endgame - Tony Stark fucking died dude!?!?! Let the kid have some time to grieve... not that he ended up getting any, he's literally already lost his parents, (possible uncle), and now his pseudo father, and shit does he lose more right after in such a tiny timespan.

Point is, yeah the fact he want's a goddamn break is not the most insane thing that's happened, god forbid a thoroughly traumatized teenager wants a break without needing to have the burdens of the world (literally) on him again. It just gets to me each time there are such crazy expectations for him, as if any a bunch other characters or people wouldn't literally crumble into pieces if they experienced the amount of stress a kid like Peter is holding constantly. We also get an actual insight on an exact thing I mentioned, where he has a talk with Mysterio where he just wanted to be a normal kid for at least a few seconds, and god is he owed all of that and more. He never got a break, he never got a real chance to comprehend everything that went around him, he got pulled into a fucking other world crisis and yeah - sue him for being exhausted, and not motivated to attempt that all again.

No Way Home. Okay, to start this off - What the fuck? I don't know how obvious it has to be, but the fact Peter is not ecstatic to be Spider-Man after not only having his "identity revealed, but (all I'm about to say is from ffh, still going to get into nwh in a second) almost being killed multiple times, been manipulated by another adult in his life, had his trauma and losses smeared all across his face, faced with taking down an entire insanely large army of killer - explosive - drones, also faced with the fear of accidentally being the cause for a massive incident", is a VERY fair reason, I genuinely think if he stopped being Spider-Man right then and there, everybody he knew would probably support him, because god the things he went through is mind boggling, I don't know how to capture the amount of damage that must have done to Peter, not even just mentally but like quite literal brain damage, he's a kid - no world this severe amount of trauma is taken any forms of lightly. (Which is sorta shown, when Happy goes to pick up Peter on the flower field, and Peter being afraid of Happy maybe not being real)

I wish people gave Peter more credit than they think he deserves, also god Peter fights to be Spider-Man still all throughout nwh, he does his 'duty' by saving all the villains (whilst experiencing the most heinous levels of grief, post May's death), and does everything he can to save the people of their possible destruction, etc. One could fight for the fact Peter.. sorta did cause all of that, even if indirectly - but honestly, I genuinely cannot imagine a different outcome. "What if he went to the lady first, like Strange suggested" It definitely would have not worked, she literally only agreed because he saved her from a being that wouldn't exist had it not been for the earlier mess up, I literally cannot imagine how he would have been able to get any of fixed or back to a state of tolerable at the very least. Peter deserves (and wants) to not live his life as horrible as expected it'd be, he'd never get to any form of normal again, everything he loved was on the line, and half of the world hated him, (alot, wanted him dead or -behind bars).

Peter Parker is just a kid, that is the first and foremost the most important aspect to his character, because the way everything is affected is so so different its ridiculous, the way he will function as a whole when older is very starkly different had this happened to somebody around the age as most of the avengers, all because his brain is just simply not capable of handling such amount's of trauma, or stress. And the way he functions now is so important too, because he's a kid, n' hell will it be obvious how childish he can think or act.

Lastly, another thing I simply hate that people do is when they find the idea of Peter having trauma unrealistic. I'm very much thinking too hard about his character probably, but he is a character with such complex details, and his life is splayed out infront of us through the films, giving us every event that could likely be a cause of something to happen one day, or something that is a cause of an action he already did. I hate that people think just because he's a movie character he's unable to be an actual person in his world, like how everything is simply black and white when it comes to characterization.

Side Note, - this totally turned into just plain out angry rambling, as I've been just annoyed as a whole ever since I started writing this all. so mind anything I say that may be incorrect, I'm defensive about Spider-Man at 8am in the morning and I haven't slept yet, so typos will be made, and some sentences will probably seem confusing.

(next day now and I think i fixed everything(??), I had decided to post this tomorrow/now when I was more comprehensible)

[wixelt]

(hermit tales au)

After she got those fateful words out, Pearl collapsed.

The previous part, for context.

---

Hermit Tales AU #003 - Pearl's Blight

"...Grian's gone."

The words spark dawning horror in the Hermits. They seem so innocent, yet with Pearl so dishevelled and shaken... So broken...

Something has happened. Something awful, the gut instincts of the older Hermits who have seen and been through more tell them. Something they don't yet know or understand.

Doc's still organic hand clutches at his cybernetic one in discomfort. He knows the Gods would not be responsible for this, and yet he gets that same feeling of cosmic uncertainty he felt just before fighting Dinnerbone. But its stronger now - not simply a casual bout - and feels awful in the pit of his stomach.

Similar expressions of worry cross the features of Etho, Beef, Joe... All old enough now to have been around the block a few times. To know bad tidings when they see them.

But they all know they can't be feeling it as deeply as Pearl, on such a level its ravaged her. Between the remnants of her Watcher power and her bond with her brother, she's the only one who can give them an immediate insight into this situation.

That isn't to be, though.

The moment the words of defeat cross her lips, its like a light goes out in Pearl, her head falling limp. She drops from exhaustion so suddenly that Gem and Impulse have to fight to keep a grip on her, lest a head injury be added to her woes. Carefully, they lower her to the ground...

...and for the first time - still as she is - the other Hermits are able to notice how pale she is. How she's shivering like its the deepest ice of winter.

This is not simply exhaustion.

Multiple Hermits are on her in moments. Stress, False, Scar... Any Hermit with skills in some form of medicine sets about checking on her, making sure their friend is stable.

Scar finds the blight first.

There's a clear red mark - bruised from impact and blistered like an acid burn - on her side, and from it sickening green lines - pulsing and gruesome - spread through her skin like a weed taking root. These veins - somehow winding and fractal at the same time - still spread as the Hermits watch in horror, the skin around these new intrusions turning as red and hurt as the impact.

And on looking at it, a voice in the back of Scar's soul suddenly screams wrong.

Scar has never heard the Vex show fear or disgust so deep before. So total they recoil anytime he presses for information.

Not even the Watchers could do something like this, cruel as they are.

In panic at Scar's sudden alarmed expression, the Hermits subject Pearl's incapacitated form to every trick they know to slow this infection down.

Gem moves her into a bed in close range of two full-power beacons, one spouting Regen I and the other Resistance II.

Countless Hermits take shifts dousing her unconscious body - unable to drink or eat - with splash and lingering potions of Slowness IV, Slowness+, Healing II, Regen II and Regen+ around the clock to shore up gaps in the beacon effects.

False and Scar spend several sleepless nights researching how to create a Potion of Luck to add to the cocktail - up to and including somehow using Joe Hills' natural good vibes as a catalyst - but come up blank.

Doc and Tango move a wrangled Elder Guardian into a neighboring chamber to afflict Pearl's form with Mining Fatigue, while Tango also helps Mumbo research somehow leeching the healing factor the Ender Dragon gets from end crystals to use for Pearl instead.

Ren and Cub quietly leave the Hermits' world and star system, seeking out the allies they've made through gatherings such as MCC. Surely somebody can help, or at least knows something about this.

Quietly and uncomfortably, Impulse presses a Totem of Undying into Pearl's unmoving hand, and keeps countless more on standby in the room.

Because the veins don't fade with respawn. Xisuma manually resetting Pearl's lifesigns was the first thing they tried, the blight only growing faster when she was restored, still out cold.

At this point, they need every edge they can get.

And even after all this - all these desperate measures - the blight progresses unabated. This affliction goes deeper than just her physical body.

Its slowed for sure, no longer visibly spreading across Pearl's skin, but it hasn't stopped or retreated or faded and after their initial measures and three days of ongoing treatment, the infection covers one side of her abdomen like a rat's nest of crisscrossing green thorns and patchy redness.

No Hermit dares touch it directly, lest the situation be made a million times worse.

Because they've been by Grian's base, now. They've seen the door-like thing that took him and scarred Pearl.

They fear it, though only Scar feels that fear anywhere near as primally as the siblings did, the power that recoils merely borrowed in his case.

They dare not get as close as the unfortunate did, and can learn little as a result.

All they can do now is wait for Pearl to wake up.

And pray that she does.

---

The Hermit Tales AU is built from replies to short prompts, making story & set pieces from your one-sentence asks & seeing if a plot evolves.

If you have anything to throw in, feel free. :D

[danger-xylophones]

What if Thrawn Has a chiss wife aka the reader who leaves home to find him since he was only suppose to be gone a year but now is a grand admiral and her ship appears over lothal near his fleet and they reunit since the last time they seen each other young 😭🫶🏻

warnings: she/her pronouns, reader is referenced as a woman, references to battle, arguing, xenophobia, reader is referred to as wife

Warning #2 I did a goof and forgot that Eli had left before Thrawn became a Grand Admiral but I was almost done writing by the time I realized so whoops

Not edited, we die like morons

.................................................

This was a one in a million chance. Not even - one in a trillion would be a better gambit. So many different factors had to work together for this one singular snippet of a transmission to reach your mourning ears.

You'd been far away, on the very outskirts of Chiss space due to a navigational error on your skywalker's behalf. F'io had explained to you that hyperspace had been unnaturally fuzzy and hard to navigate but she'd been compelled to keep going. You'd ended up having a lengthy discussion with her caregiver regarding the possibility of the poor girl's third sight fading earlier than predicted.

Shortly after, you returned to the bridge. The helm officer Ryn'da was busily setting up a return to course route when from the other side of the bridge, the comms officer chirped. "Senior Captain, we're picking up an unknown transmission." Azura's clear voice caught your attention easily and soon you were striding over to the woman.

"Origin?" You asked as you settled a hand on the back of the Lieutenant Commander's chair.

"Inconclusive, ma'am. But it does seem to be coming from Lesser Space."

Brow furrowed, you roved your eyes over the transcription scrolling across the screen that showed the same information Azura had just relayed to you. "Play it."

Immediately your ears were bombarded by sounds of weapons firing, the loud pings of charged shots colliding with either the hull or the shield - it was hard to tell - provided an overwhelming cacophony against the panicked yelling that served as the bulk of the message. It was in a language you didn't recognize but the sheer stress and fear in the speaker's voice gave you enough information to deduce that this was either a distress signal or an order to flee. The message cut off after just a few seconds.

"Interesting." You muttered, bringing a hand to your mouth in thought. "Any way to trace it?"

Azura made a face, confused by the request, or rather, by your interest in the message but eventually complied. "I can certainly try, ma'am. But it will take a while." She muttered, hands already flying across the screen.

"You keep on that. Ryn'da," your call snapped the helm officer's attention to you, "how's the return course coming along?"

"Fine, Senior Captain. I can have us moving in a few minutes."

"See to it that you do." You hummed. "I'm stepping off the bridge for a few minutes. When I return," you returned your attention to Azura, "I want an update on the transmission. If you haven't been able to trace it by then, at least make a copy for further study." There was a muttered chorus of 'yes, captain' at your back that you didn't heed. No, you were far more focused on talking to the skywalker again. And maybe laying the invasive gut feeling you had to rest.

.............................

"Are you insane?" The words were flying out your mouth as soon as the door opened. "No, scratch that - you're insane!"

The man you'd accused of losing his mind looked up from his personal questis placidly. He was stretched out on the shared bed, his large frame a focal point within the room itself, freshly showered and ready for sleep. Lowering the questis, he peered at your agitated form with eyes too relaxed for your liking. "Beloved, what's the matter?"

"Don't 'beloved' me, Thrawn." You hissed, stalking closer to his side of the bed. "Did you even think this through?"

He blinked at you once, twice. And finally reached to grab your hand. "Yes, I did." Tugging you closer, Thrawn sat up in the bed and pivoted his body towards you, revealing bare, muscular legs from underneath the covers. You moved with him, slotting yourself between his knees but refusing to look at the Mitth. "I have considered every possibility and know this is to be the only way forward."

When you continued to refuse to look at him, Thrawn's hands began to work. Carefully, he started to undo all the fasteners holding your uniform together. You recognized it for what it was - less an attempt to get you naked and more so to get you to calm down. The sooner you were out of uniform, the sooner you'd quit thinking about work. and by extension, this latest scheme. Normally, you'd be grateful for his inherent understanding that sometimes your crankiness was just a result of being forced to wear an uncomfortable outfit nearly every day. But not right now. Because you weren't 'cranky'. You were beyond angry. "Why do you want to leave me?"

His hands froze on your waist, the warmth from his palms seeping through the thin material of your undershirt. Your quiet words had hit him like a blaster bolt to the chest. Good. Now he would know how you'd felt after talking to Ba'kif. "I don't..." Thrawn finally answered.

"You don't what, Thrawn?" You hissed once again, fully pulling away from him to begin pacing around the room. "I always figured that if you'd ever lost interest, you'd talk to me not run away from the ascendancy entirely! I always thought that if something big came up, you'd let me help you! I thought you'd trust me! But this - this, I don't even have the words-"

"You think I'm abandoning you." His voice, always so icily calm, trembled. It made you stop. He was right, of course.

"Why?"

Thrawn rose from the bed, the covers falling away from him like fancy robes from those paintings he loved so much. He crossed to you, three long strides brought him into your space far more quickly than you would ever get used to. His arms wrapped around you like a vice, their sheer warm, bulk nearly enough to break down the hastily put up walls. And, despite your anger and hurt, you leaned into him. Face pressed into his chest, you let the tears coalesce on your lash line. And finally fall when he kissed the top of your head. "Beloved," his words, spoken against your hairline, rolled through your body, "there are threats to the Ascendancy outside our borders that only I can deal with."

"Why won't you take me with you?" You muttered into the heated skin against your cheek.

"Because, I want you here, where it's safer. Samakro is going to need someone to help him guide the Springhawk. You have a duty to the ship first and me second." He kissed you softly, ending the argument with the press of his lips, "Besides, I'll only be gone a year."

....................................................

Ba'kif thought you were insane. And, well, maybe you were. But you'd heard what you'd heard - as weak of an argument as that was. Azura hadn't been able to trace the transmission before your ship had to get back to hyperspace to make your rendezvous with the fleet. But she'd done as asked and made a copy that you poured over as soon as you got your hands on it.

You hadn't voiced your initial thoughts to anyone on the bridge, you didn't want them to worry about your mental health. But, beneath the panicked words of the pilot and the ringing shots of the blasters you'd heard another voice. It was still in that same unintelligible language that the main message had been in but the richness, the calm, commanding tone that bled through all of it - it was too familiar. There was no way. But you had to look into it.

You'd ran that damn transmission through so many scrubbing layers, trying to eliminate all other noise in an attempt to isolate that one voice.

But finally you had your evidence. The language was still unknown to you but the voice, when compared with private messages you still had saved, proved to be too similar to Thrawn's to let it go. So, reluctantly, Ba'kif let you take your ship to try and follow it up. With no deadline forcing you away from the edge of your borders, Azura was able to track the transmission to a planet just beyond your borders called Lothal.

You knew that your crew wasn't fully on board with this exploratory mission but they humored you as their captain. Plus, it didn't hurt that you had Admiral Ar'alani backing you up. The Vigilant would be tracking your every move. If things went south, she would move in to help.

"Break out in 5," Ryn'da's proud voice cut through the sentinel silence of the bridge, beyond the ship, the galaxy swirled by in shifting shades of blue, "4, 3, 2, 1 -"

It seemed like the starscape rose up to meet your ship as it dropped out of hyperspace. Almost dead center in the view port loomed a dusty looking planet with swirling white and yellow clouds covering its surface. And almost dead above you were three ships unlike anything you'd ever seen. You were glad you'd already sent F'io and her caregiver back to their quarters.

"Hell." Someone muttered from behind you and you couldn't agree more.

"Ryn'da, if things take a turn I want you to make a jump towards the planet to buy us time to escape - It should take them by surprise. Sashin," the weapons officer raised his head, "get your guns ready. Primed for defense, no way we're taking those things down. Azura, get a distress signal ready and give me comm." You called, breaking the starstruck spell that had settled over the woman. "Attention, unknown warships," you began in a crisp, clear voice as you introduced yourself - giving only your core name, "I am the Senior Captain of the Blightwing of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet. Please understand we mean no harm - we are looking for a lost ship whose last known coordinates place it around this planet." You waited a few minutes before deciding to try again in Minnisiat. And again before hailing them in Sy Bisti. Nothing. Finally you tried what little you knew of Basic.

"Attention fighting-ships. I am the foremost captain for the Blightwing. I search for a lost ship who was last seen here." Cringing at your own mispronunciations, you pushed on, "I mean no harm. Repeat. No harm, asking for any...help?

Finally, a response came. "This is Admiral Konstantine of the Imperial Navy. Can you describe this ship?"

Chaos, this was humiliating. "I greet you, Admiral. Yes. I can. You speak different language? This is unf...unfamiliar? to me?" Pausing a moment, you thought about how the words felt in your mouth before offering an alternative, "Taarja?"

"No. I will not. We will speak in Basic."

You pulled a nasty frown, stifling a few choice words that came to mind for the man. He didn't say he couldn't so he was just being a piece of growler dung. "The ship is like this. Small, fighter. It is...sister-ship?" Pulling away from the comm a moment to gesture almost wildly to your bridge crew, in a bid for them to throw more adjectives at you. "Made for battle, um....three stop guns."

"I'm afraid there are no ships remotely resembling that description. Be on your - Grand Adm-" He was cut off, you shot a look at Azura who shrugged to indicate that the problem was not on your end. As suddenly as he'd left, Konstantine returned. "I rescind my statement, the Grand Admiral would like you to come aboard."

Turning away from the comm again, you thought for a moment. "What of my crew?"

"They may remain in the hangar of one of the other two warships, you are to come aboard the Chimeara. At once."

"Fine."

"Good, a shuttle will be sent out to escort you. Good day, Captain." For the final time, you turned away from the comm.

“Get the Mid-Captain up here.”

“Captain, with all due respect you cannot be considering actually going?” Ryn’da began to protest.

You turned to her. “I’m not considering it - I’m going.”

"But, ma'am-!"

"You have your contingency orders. They still apply even if I am not aboard the ship. Mid-Captain Galorim is more than capable of controlling the Blightwing and returning you all to safety should this go awry."

"Ma'am, please - Ar'alani will-" Ryn'da started to rise from her seat.

"I will hear no argument, Lieutenant. The admiral will be informed shortly and she will understand. Now," you turned from her, "is the Mid-Captain on his way?"

One of the privates offered a hasty nod before skittering out of your way as you stepped closer - already heading towards the attaching hatch to await the shuttle.

................................................................

You'd half expected Admiral Konstantine to be the one to pick you up, but in hindsight - that was a foolish thing to think. But, it didn't stop you from being surprised by the sight of four armored guards awaiting you.

Their armor was shiny, near blindingly so, and the evidence of a black body glove peaked out from between the disconnected white plates. They held blasters like you'd never seen before abreast, evidently ready to shoot should you make any wrong move in their eyes.

They greeted you in basic, you responded as best you could to the simple phrase, before the stepped aside enough to make room for you in the middle of the small square they formed. As you settled into place, the shuttle disengaged from your ship and ascended towards what you figured must be the flagship.

As a section of the hull parted to welcome the shuttle back into its underbelly, you caught the barest hint of a design. It was massive, taking up the entire underside of the warship and intricate from what you could scarcely make out.

At the very least it confirmed your suspicions that you were being taken aboard the flagship.

The shuttle rocked unsteadily as it settled into the hangar, jostling you into the side of the guard closest to you who used their elbow to knock you back into place.

You bit down a hissed retort. As much as it pained you to - you had to be polite to the grunts who did this Grand Admiral's bidding.

What was a Grand Admiral, anyway? Was it this navy's equivalent of Supreme Admiral? It would be insane if you'd managed to fly yourself into the lap of the highest ranking officer in this foreign war-force. But stranger things had happened. You'd half a mind to ask but it seemed like the guards weren't much interested in speaking to you.

Suddenly, the lights went red before flashing through a quick sequence of white, blue, and green. And then, near painfully slow, the ramp started to lower.

The darkened shuttle was filled with blinding white light as the ramp fell lower and lower before finally touching down with a controlled thunk that rattled the durasteel beneath your boots. Distant voices could be heard rattling off in clipped professional voices of intercoms that distorted everything. There was also the unmistakable hisses of releasing hatches and temperature regulators to underscore the indistinct conversations. All in all, this seemed like a sterile environment devoid of life. As your escort started to move, you couldn't help but brush your fingers down the side of the charric affixed to your side. It brought a wash of comfort. Yes, most likely you wouldn't be able to completely defend yourself considering the sheer amount of people loyal to the commander of this ship. But you'd at least go down fighting. `

The soldiers led you out with measured steps. Their stomps creating a steady rhythm unfamiliar to you but almost soothing in its steadiness. They marched past droves of unfamiliar spacecraft and several squadrons of similarly armored guards and humans dressed in pressed, dark green uniforms. Those in the green stared gleefully at the newcomer and you caught them bowing their heads to whisper unknown words to each other. In defiance, you raised your head higher.

You were only partially surprised to not have encountered Admiral Konstantine as the soldiers marched you through the halls. But from what you gathered during your brief discussion he would either be on a different ship or preoccupied with the Grand Admiral.

Finally, after what felt like hours spent walking through identical hallways, the soldiers stopped in front of a very nondescript door. The only thing to give away that anything important laid beyond it was the presence of another armored guard - this one with a pauldron over his shoulder.

A silent conversation passed between the lead guard of your escort and the one posted at the door before he stepped away and you were ushered inside, alone. The metal door slid shut behind you with a finalizing hiss.

The room you were now in was more like a hallway than anything else. Ahead sat another door, sealed shut. To your left was a brightly lit training room, door open - a trap? You didn't enter it and instead padded forward ever so slowly. Along the walls were droids, powered off, thankfully as they appeared to be built for fighting. Also hanging down over the bland walls were tapestries depicting things you'd never seen before. Minimal colors were used, white and gold predominantly. You couldn't derive much meaning out of it yourself. Thrawn would have a field day with it though.

Quietly, you pressed on coming to the next door at length. It opened before with a loud 'whoosh' and before you was a large, cold office awash in watery gray light. It was dark and hard to see even with your thermal vision. "A long way for a chiss warrior to travel."

You could feel your blood run cold at the sound of the smooth, accented sy bisti that flowed over you - filling the room with sudden presence. The voice was painfully familiar. "You speak as though you are familiar with my people, Grand Admiral." You answered back, eyes narrowing on the desk dead ahead and the shadowed figure who sat at it.

A chuckle like that of rumbling thunder sounded from the figure and went straight to your heart, nestling right into a particular . It nearly brought you to your knees. "You could say I have an innate understanding of the chiss." The Grand Admiral looked up at you.

Red eyes

"Thrawn?" You choked out, voice squeaky and shaky as emotions stifled your control over the tone.

He rose from the desk and stepped around it into the light. "I hope you will forgive the dramatics," it had been so long since you'd heard his voice (his authentic voice, not the recordings you had of previous missions and private communique) that it nearly brought tears to your eyes, "I wanted to surprise you." He was wearing a uniform completely unfamiliar to you - white with gold shoulder pads and a belt about his waist - and you were surprised you found it attractive on him.

"Well," you started, muscling your voice into an even tone while trying to ignore the way the edge of your vision had turned watery, "consider me beyond surprised."

You wanted to move, you wanted to run into his arms and forget the past six years but you couldn't. It felt like you were being torn in two. You were angry at him. But you had missed him terribly. But he'd left you. But he hadn't meant to be gone so long.

Thrawn took a step forward, opening his arms in invitation.

You took a step back. "Don't."

He stopped, head tilting just to the side in confusion. "Beloved?"

"You - you left me, Thrawn. For years." You started, feeling those same emotional walls you kept up crumbling under the weight of the anger and sadness you felt looking at him again.

"My love, you know why I had to-"

"No, I know why you left for the first year. But the last five? For all I knew you'd found yourself a brand new life out here and had no intention of coming back!" You were yelling now, voice vacillating quickly between refined control and unbridled frustration.

"Visa'hot, I would never leave you. I made a vow-" Thrawn protested, stepping closer to you.

You didn't back down. "But you did, Thrawn. Whether you meant to or not, you did. What was I supposed to think? You didn't send any type of message."

He faltered, stony expression twitching down to form a vulnerable and confused face you'd only seen a couple of times in your life. "I don't understand. I thought you would be happy to see me?"

Taking a deep breath in, you steadied yourself. "I am happy, Thrawn. And relieved to see that you're alive and doing well - I mean, Grand Admiral? I'm not entirely sure what that is but if it's at all similar to flag rank I'm sure it's impressive." You cut yourself off to keep from rambling. "But, I'm also angry at you - unbelievably so. I know you left for the 'good of the ascendancy' or something like that but you told me a year. I was prepared to wait a year."

"I see."

"It's selfish, I know. But you're my husband, I love you despite all the shit you pull and I want to be with you whenever I can. And you just leaving me behind stings, Thrawn."

Silence descended on the two of you, tense and heavy. Until Thrawn, still bearing that same puzzled expression, stepped forward. "Beloved, I am...I don't know what to say. I did not foresee how my actions would harm you." He stepped forward again, bringing him within arms reach. "And for that, I have failed you. I understand your anger. And know that I am sorry." He bowed his head to catch your gaze. "Can you ever forgive me?"

You didn't answer for a moment - you didn't even meet his eye, instead focusing on the shiny plaque affixed to his chest. "Probably. But not right now."

"I understand, ch'acah." Thrawn sighed and began to move away.

"Will you hold me?" Your question seemed to slam into Thrawn like a runaway skycar. He snapped to attention, regarding you with evident confusion. "I'm still mad at you, but I also still love you."

A smile, a genuine smile crept unto his face - bright enough to be more reminiscent of a completely different man. "Of course." He held his arms open and you rushed into them. "I missed you, beloved."

"I missed you too."

[therealvinelle]

I just finished Nebuchadnezzar's Dream and I have to say: Holy shit! The werewolf fight, Carlisle getting investigated by the FBI, Aro's funny hat idea as a diplomatic tool, the Ziggy Stardisciples feat. bad face paint, Renata ❤️, the bickering twins, Jane (yes, she gets her own point, she deserves it), Carlisle's gift induced despair and then the fall of Volterra, the horror and grief of the group and the very loud broadcasted-live-to-the-usurpers revenge sex (I hope Edward combusted into a pile of ashes right then and there, lol). It was an amazing rollercoaster to read. And just so you know, I'm very interested in that potential sequel 👀

(Also, if Aro had decided to follow Caius' advice and attack the Cullens first, how would he have done it? Kill them all but spare Carlisle? Kill only Bella and leave it at that knowing that they don't pose a threat anymore even if they do decide to take revenge? Or something entirely different?)

I'm so glad you enjoyed it, thank you!

To answer your question:

If Aro was to take out the Cullens, there are about a million ways he could have gone about killing the Cullens but the simplest one in my mind would have been if he used Nahuel and his sisters to hide from Alice, and then went and killed them outright. No fuzz, no convoluted schemes, even with Bella's gift the Cullens would be easily overwhelmed.

A more thought out plan, at least if Aro wants to be sure Alice doesn't catch on to him, would be sending Chelsea and Marcus around to weaken the bonds of friendship the Cullens have with their various allies, and strengthen their faith in the Volturi. And if some remain adamant, they die. Leave the Denali alive, however, and then make his move.

The factor that allowed the Cullens to gather as many allies as they did in Breaking Dawn was time. The Volturi deliberated two weeks, when a direct flight from Italy to Washington would take less than a day. Should Aro in my scenario then decide "Alright, we're doing this," the Cullens will have very little time and be at a complete disadvantage.

Their only option would be to run for it and not split up, so Bella can shield them all, but even so they'll be leaving scent trails, which means they would have to go by human transportation means. This in turn puts a constraint on their movements.

The Cullens would likely end up on a boat or an island, where nobody can track them, where they would be unable to step outside of Bella's immediate vicinity, meaning Jacob and Renesmee are both obscuring Alice.

This is where the Denali come in, because without them the Volturi would have no way of guessing where the Cullens might go. With five friendly vampires a short distance away, however, the Cullens have an obvious destination.

Where, of course, Jacob and Renesmee's constant presence means that Alice won't know the Volturi are waiting for them there.

Even if the Cullens figure out that the Denali are compromised, they have no allies and Bella needs only let down her guard for a moment for Demetri to know where they are, and given the pressure she's under she inevitably will. They won't have an easy time hunting, either, the stress of the situation will be constantly grating on them, they won't hold out for long.

As for what the Volturi do when they have them at their mercy, Aro would be sad about it but they all have to go. Regardless of the strategy he used, he wants to reinforce that the Volturi are a force you don't stand up to, you don't resist, and you don't embarrass them.

By all accounts, Aro's distinguishing feature is that there is nobody he isn't willing to kill.

People would be crying injustice for a while, but I imagine those voices would be silenced in death or through intimidation, and with vampires having such a high turnover rate it would only be a few centuries before they were forgotten by all but those who keep their mouths shut about it.

[z0ruas]

I'm nervous to share this but I need to get better at it. In March this year my therapist diagnosed me with OSDD - otherwise specified dissociative disorder - or one of the variations under the umbrella of what used to be called multiple personality disorder. I didn't know my undiagnosed autism in early childhood could become something this advanced, and I can never find out what trauma exactly caused it because 1) that's the nature of the disorder and 2) my parents who homeschooled/abused me will never help me remember. My best guess is CSA that they tried to cover up and it should bother me more to share that but despite having been a walking billboard of the symptoms at times I don't recall the trauma itself whatsoever so whatever, just the rituals I used to do to try to get out of any more of it happening I guess. Telling my therapist that as a child I stopped bathing for days at a time and don't remember when it started and to this day I'm still mysteriously horrified of the shower tipped her off to my dissociation being highly abnormal

"DID is a dissociative trauma disorder in which a survivor has undergone longterm, repeated trauma in early childhood. This trauma, combined with other factors, results in a rather dramatic interruption of psychological development -- particularly as it pertains to identity. Through a process known as dissociation, this thwarted development results in "differentiated self-states" (also known as alters/parts) who may each think, act, and feel considerably different from one another. These parts of the mind - who may have their own name, age and personality - are able to take executive control of the body, leaving the survivor without any awareness for the time they were gone. These amnesic gaps in memory can be for just a few moments, a few days, or even entire chunks of one's childhood. The alters in a DID mind exist to help the survivor cope with deeply painful and unconscionable trauma, holding it outside their awareness to the best of their ability. However, often once the survivor begins to find safety and/or enter adulthood, this once supremely creative and protective mechanism can turn into a maladaptive trait causing real life consequences."

I'm not sure if I count as fully DID because of my likely low end alter count, which I'll explain, and because how my amnesia works. I want to say I am because I don't remember anything before the age of 7 and didn't know until recently that not everyone forgets early childhood that hard, lately everything before age 13 is on its way out too and I'm gathering that the degree of my short and long term memory loss are pretty severe during times of stress, but I don't currently have blackouts or alters who keep each other out of consciousness to "take over" and are damned to keep secrets from each other, so I don't know. It feels more like they just filter themselves through me, like we're all living the same life but just deal with it and feel about it different ways.

They've written a lot of notes/journals to me over the years, so as an adult as long as I check those I usually remember what they do and feel generally and don't ever wake up like "where the fuck am I," but in the past I mistook them for fictional characters or "intrusive inner monologue" that conflicted with "me," because I didn't know what this was. With more therapy and introspection I've figured that 20+ years ago I once had alters who I can't remember anymore who took a lot of memory away whenever it was they "left"/I no longer needed them.

Turns out even if I hadn't decided to formally learn creative writing I would've been coming up with other people in my head to cope anyway. Kinda puts a damper on the last decade I've spent as a writer or so I thought. Similar to the ablutophobia I don't recall when exactly I started coming up with and illustrating stories, just that I seemed to be able to and I needed to do it as much as possible.

Without prodding off the top of my head I only have two clear memories of being 7, I don't know when they are and they aren't reels of continuous moments more than they are snapshots of just having been there, but I can still see what the rooms looked like when I was in them: 1) playing Pokemon Yellow in my bedroom for the first time and 2) sitting down at the brick computer in my parents' bedroom to write my first word document story.

I say my alter count is likely to be low (but I can't be sure until I get a therapist who specializes in this disorder, mine only does in autism) because I, the host of this blog and normally my brain/body, used to feel like a singlet (someone without DID) and was long unaware of what this disorder was besides the name of it, so we didn't have a naming or recognition method for alters for 20+ years. The way its portrayed in media and online I see a lot of systems with drastically individualized members, but a lot of mine are just "me but with certain emotions dialed up" "me slightly to the left or right" "me at 13" "me when I've suddenly forgotten x important thing again"

Like the autism this is definitely one of those things I needed to know about myself decades sooner, but unlike the autism which I was #bornwith this feels like something I need to apologize for, despite not having the language or knowledge to express how it felt and despite not remembering why I started doing it.

If I'd been able to always express myself as a "we," if I'd known, I wouldn't have hidden this from people, so that I can get better. Whether that be through "final fusion" (all alters becoming one) or "functional multiplicity" (less alters becoming as few as possible) I plan on healing as much as possible despite no longer being able to recover all the pieces of my puzzle

[jgnico]

I'm rereading some of Shibuya, and can I just say I forgot how heinous Sukuna was here.

I think that may be part of what's throwing me off so much now that he's in Megumi's body. The last time we truly saw him through Yuuji, he showed up for a few chapters, killed a few thousand people while not giving much of anything away about his plans, and then left Yuuji to deal with the fallout. Everything about him felt so cold, calculated, and mysterious. So much so that, even when he was enjoying himself (or being oddly nice in Jogo's final moments), their was still an oppressiveness to him being there. An even worse occurrence in an already bad situation, if you will.

In comparison, in Megumi's body, his plan has started to come to fruition. He doesn't need to keep his secrets as close (there are still a lot imo, like his multiple techniques) but he seems... lighter. More relaxed. Still deservedly arrogant. Still powerful. But nowhere near as oppressive as he was in Shibuya.

This is doubly so now that Gojo's back, because regardless of who you think will win the fight, at least we know that his focus is on Gojo and therefore the kids aren't an at immediate risk of him. With him fighting Gojo, there's a sense of equal power between them. We're not as worried as we would be if it was just Sukuna with his own abilities + ten shadows doing whatever he wanted. We're not as worried because a large part of the "What is he going to do now?" factor is gone. And less worry, means less stress, means less seriousness.

But anyway, that's just me hazarding a guess as to why Sukuna feels less *Sukuna* now that he's no longer with Yuuji. (Aside from the obvious change in appearance.)

[owlbeanies]

A quick rundown of the naruto fanfic i've been rotating around my brain for the past couple of months.

More or less during the kanabi mission Obito gets yoinked instead of Rin. She unable to convince Kakashi to halt the mission to save him, and by the time they complete it-- its too late. The trail has gone cold. everyone assumes he's dead...

He isnt.

Obito is now a prisoner of war. He spends not an insignificant amount of time in an enemy prison, dreaming of the day of his escape. He makes multiple plans but security is tight and he knows damn well he will never walk out that gate on his own.

So he sets his sights to plan B. Whats plan B? Desperately trying to recreate the hiraishin so he can quite literally throw himself out of there.

unfortunately Obito doesn't really know jack shit about seals. He had basic sealing lessons sure-- but do you really think his adhd ass retained any of it? No. And whats worse is that he doesn't really remember the make up of the hirashin either. Like he knows the general shape of it. He could probably fake a decent look-alike, but that doesn't help in the function department.

Well... thanks to vast amounts of stress (and more than just threats a of torture) he succeeds! He makes a seal that actually works and escapes.

Through a long string of events he ends up running into(and subsequently helping) a few akasuki memebers. He ends up joining because they're hiding him, and if he doesn't his ass is going back to prison.

His environment is far from stable considering he(an uchiha) is in a war torn RAIN, but at least he can breath a little. He takes the chance to smooth out some of the kinks in his cool new Hiraishin recreation. This catches the attention of multiple people, with the rain trio being some of them. They decide to swing by just to see what all the hubbub is about in regard to their newest member.

Obito is bragging, and is absolutely showing off his cool new technique.

amazed they ask him how it works.

Obito shows them.

Nagito takes one fucking looks at that seal, kneels over, and dies(not really).

Yahiko is confused. Where is the seal? Obito points. Yahiko stares.

Now let it be known that Yahiko isnt exactly the most knowledgeable person when it comes to seals, but he was trained by Jiraiya. And by gods is that not a fucking seal. He tells Obito so. That is the most chicken-scratch scribble of nothing he has ever laid eyes upon.

Obito is offended.

It is too a seal! and look he says, it has many other features that the hiraishin doesn't have which makes it even better. Such as exploding when he forces too much chakra into it.

Yahiko points out that he could just attach a paper-bomb to his kunai. In fact doing so would not only be less draining but also better in every imaginable way.

Obito disagrees, for the coolness factor of his seal far outweighs that of a paper-bomb.

Yahiko points out that his seal doesn't have a locking mechanism. There's nothing stopping anyone from stealing the kunai and using it without Obito's permission.

Well, Obito clicks his tongue because he how dare he, the amount of chakra that must be used is extremely finicky. If they don't use the exact amount of chakra it wont work, as you can see from it exploding from being overloaded.

what happens if not enough chakra is applied?

well... obito has never tried. So he cant say for certain. But if he had to hazard a guess its nothing good. (they are violently torn apart and only maybe put back together in a somewhat correct order depending on how much chakra is being used.)

Needless to say no one wants anything to do with Obito's cool new seal anymore...

[fcundaticnsofdecay]

status: closed

pairing: billie & ezra

with: @darkwants

at first she thought she had heard the doctor wrong.

she had asked him to repeat himself at least three times. even leaving the clinic the words had echoed in her head. she was actually pregnant and she had thought it was impossible. she had never told ezra that even with the breeding fantasy that she had. yet she knew that her cycle had never been regular and stress was likely the biggest factor. yet she knew that since the move and ezra finally being there with her all the time, things had settled. her body no longer seemed to be completely out of wack. however for the past few days she had felt sick but she had told ezra is probably a stomach thing. he had been the one to tell her she might want to get checked out if it didn't go away on it's own.

she found herself sitting in her car in the parking lot of the walk in clinic. the papers showing the results were in her lap. she had yet to even put the key in the ignition. one of her hands was resting on the wheel and the other on her flat stomach. her phone was in the cup holder and she could see the text from ezra. he was probably checking in with her to see if he had gone to the walk in or if she was feeling better. she groaned before she was going to move only to set the paper in the passenger seat. even though she had been given a blood test she still was struggling to wrap her mind around it. that was why when she finally did start the car up she was heading to the nearest pharmacy. after buying herself a bottle of water and a test, she went to the bathroom to take it.

by that point she had more then a few messages from ezra and a missed call. she knew that she was likely worrying him and he didn't need to be leaving the garage. he was still getting his new business off the ground. that was why she forced herself to head there next instead of home. the results from the doctor and the at home test were shoved into her purse before she made her way inside. she walked through the reception area, ignoring the younger looking guy behind the desk. instead she made her way through since she knew if she didn't tell ezra she felt like she was going to explode.

she could see ezra was talking with one of his employees. billie forced herself to take a deep breath before she was walking over only to tug on the sleeve of his shirt," um, can we talk? in your office?"

[your-sweet-cookies]

Important announcement, please read

Mun speaking: Hey guys, I'm posting this now since I'm seeing that a lot of you are online so maybe you'll see and read this. I just want to let you know that I am honestly NOT doing okay at all emotionally speaking. I've been actually hurting deeply for quite some time and due to recent events, I have finally hit rock bottom and just can't take this anymore: Thing is that lately I've started to feel extremely unwanted and unloved by the community and that my relevance on here has dropped to nothing (best proof being my activity stats that dropped to under 10 notes on more than one occasion these past few days and maybe weeks), soo I guess the haters were right, in the end I am nothing but a boring person with an even more boring character.

And it's okay, you don't have to lie to try to make me feel better, because I just know it's true and even if I tried to be strong, I just can't do it anymore. There were more factors that contributed to this and I'll try to briefly explain them:

First of all, no one reaches out to me to send in stuff outside of memes and no one wants to talk to me, except 2-3 people with whom I'm mostly only talking about stuff outside of RP anyways. The stuff I usually got in my inbox were just memes that never got feedback or went anywhere and If I disappeared it's clear that no one even noticed, so it means that my presence on here truly is useless, life moves on without me anyways. All my ships are dead, all my threads ignored/forgotten and my inbox is an empty desert.

Then, there were of course the haters. At first I thought they were just a bunch of jealous people, but now I realize they were right, I am just a no one who nobody likes and I am just tired of receiving pity from others, since it won't change a thing. If people truly cared, then they would've proven the haters wrong with concrete action, but since no one did so, it's too late to change the facts now.

And lastly, what hurt most, was the way I was treated by those I saw as friends, who just decided to just abandon me one day without any further notice. I won't name names, but just know that what you did truly hurt me because I trusted you and I cherished you! Yeah, I am not perfect, I make mistakes, but I believe that I am entitled to at least one explanation and a 'break-up' note to at least allow me to move on knowing that there's no more hope left for that friendship. Ghosting someone is never the right answer!

With that said (which I am sorry if it came out as mostly bitter, but I'm emotionally drained completely), I've decided to retire from the RP community, since it's became literally painful seeing the dashboard go on given the current circumstances. This acc won't be gone, I'll keep it for memory's sake and to maybe post artwork related to Kukki and her friends from time to time, make memes and chat with the Muns I am still close with. In regards to the all-mad-hare's event, I will still deliver my entry since the sketch is almost done and I am very pleased with the result, but I just wanted to let you guys know that I will stop using this acc for role-playing because I just can't go on like this anymore. There's no pain worse than feeling horribly alone, despite being surrounded by soo many people. I just don't have any drive or motivation left for writing. It was fun at first while it lasted, but now it's just painful and I'm tired of crying everyday and feeling anxious and stressed whenever I see the dash going on and then remember that no one gives a fuck about me.

With that said, I hope there won't be any hard feelings and know that I still love you guys and so does Kukki, but even the strongest warriors have their limits and this one reached hers.

Wishing you all the best, S