#and i would never think 'causing me to cry and panic as a test is a pretty dick move' but nowadays it's all i think about

[devilfic]

❝late-bloomer❞

plot: you've never been kissed before. on a completely unrelated note, what if your best friend offered to be your first? pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: post-tasm 2, gwen stacy mention, angst, self-deprecating thoughts about being undesirable and insecurity in love, best friends to wouldn't you like to know, eventual fluff, attempts at andrew garfield accurate rambling, he definitely talks you through it I mean who said that. words: 4.3k.

a/n: entirely self-indulgent because I wrote this after crying over being a late-bloomer for an hour ahahaha

Peter is reading something for research when you suck in a breath and finally ask, "What was your first kiss like?"

You hear his voice die in his throat. The small whispering of test results and calculations fall short, but you don't dare to look back. You're hunched forward so he won't see the way your eyes burn and brim with tears unshed because if he did, he'd ask about it and then you'd really start crying. Instead, you busy yourself with your phone, idly scrolling as if your question was pure curiosity alone.

You watch his ankles uncross, hear him sit up and then lean against the headboard again, fumbling for your train of thought, "Uh... sticky, 'cause I was six," Peter laughs, "You should know. You're the one who kissed me."

No matter how many times he tells you this, you can't remember the day you'd been so bold as to plant one right on Peter Parker's lips. You felt like you'd remember that, but you'd been such an impulsive child back them. Bolder. Thicker-skinned.

But Peter remembers, and so does Aunt May who swears up and down that she'd caught it on camera ("If only I could find that damned photo album"). You're the only one who doesn't. It's like it never happened, "No, God... no. I mean like your first real kiss."

"Like with tongue?" You hear the humor in his voice and even your sullen mood doesn't stop you from smacking his knee. "I dunno what you're talking about. That kiss was real to me."

"I'm serious, Pete."

He hums. You're so, so tempted to look back and see what he's thinking, but it would give you away too easily. "It was... it was a kiss. I mean, Gwen- you know. You know. I was crazy about her. I didn't think I just... kissed her."

"How did it feel? Do you know?"

"I felt like I needed to do it. I felt like if I didn't, I'd throw up. Not actually, just... like I'd explode with all the feelings I had for her."

Your finger hovers over a tweet. In your wondering about that feeling of almost nearly exploding, you try to picture that rooftop kiss that Peter had relayed to you between classes, with hushed whispers and childish laughter. It was windy, and I was breathless, he'd said, and I wanted to lay myself bare. And I just... pulled her in. Shot a web and swept her up and kissed her. I think I've lost my mind. You remembered pressing your back against the school lockers to cool yourself as you imagined the scene, the steps it took for you to settle the uneasy churn in the pit of your chest. The euphoria and panic upon realizing that your Peter was growing up.

You felt overwhelmed just imagining it. You barely hear Peter ask why you want to know. "No reason. Was just curious."

You think that Peter accepts that as good enough reason because the room is silent again. You keep scrolling, keep taking subtle deep breaths to keep the tears at bay. You see a picture of a couple on your timeline and scroll faster.

A few minutes of peace pass before Peter broaches the subject again, "What about you?"

"Hm?"

"I don't think you've ever told me about your first kiss."

Your shoulders tense. No good effort hides the strain in your voice, "I haven't?"

A beat passes. You glance over your shoulder and see Peter staring right at you, his lips upturned in a small, resting smile, but his eyes are inquiring. He's trying to read you. Perhaps he's just noticed the heavy cloud hanging overhead. "Nope." He pops the "P". He's waiting.

You could lie. You could say it was Flash Thompson who stole it, mention that field trip to the zoo in middle school when he'd sneaked next to you at the peacock exhibit and pestered you about you and Peter. Peter wouldn't question Flash about it. Even if they'd made amends, any conversation about him would send him over the edge with memories of his childhood bully and how much he pitied you for having your first kiss with him. And all of you were far too old now; Flash Thompson had gone to another state to play football the minute he got his diploma. It'd be so inconsequential, such an easy lie.

But the longer it takes you to deliberate on it, the worse it makes you look. You should've offered up an answer easily, jovially, unbothered. It should be inconsequential. Anything more and Peter would call your bluff because he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.

At some point, you feel the brush of a lone finger at the base of your spine and it startles you. Peter's slipped his finger under your shirt, stroking along the middle of your back, "I won't laugh. If that's what you're thinking." He says softly.

Of course Peter wouldn't laugh at you. As much as your relationship was teasing, he knew where you were tender.

But it wasn't laughing you worried about.

"I know." You say, in lieu of a real answer. You fear you've given yourself away.

Now there are two fingers stroking your skin, "You don't... you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," but you can hear the discomfort in his voice when he says it, like the thought that it's something you don't want to tell him concerns him, "it's up to you."

Just lie. Your breath shudders and immediately you regret it. There's no way he hadn't heard that.

Before you can recover, you're feeling the heat of his entire hand on your back now as it slips further up, as he sits up in bed beside you and rests his chin on your shoulder. The closeness of his breath makes you feel claustrophobic all of a sudden, "Hey, hey. I'm sorry. Did I push? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

You struggle to shake your head, but now your eyes are burning again and you don't think you can stop the tears this time, "You didn't." You insist.

"You're crying, bub," he laughs (not mockingly, never mockingly, never when you cry) and reaches a thumb up to brush away the first warm tear, "what's wrong?"

There's a million things you could say. I've never been kissed before, I don't know what it feels like to be longed for like that, I want to be longed for like that, why haven't I been longed for like that? But it all feels so heavy. Peter picks his chin up to kiss your shoulder and that really does it, "It never happened."

Peter's lips still against your skin. Their warmth slowly peels away, though you feel his breath ghost over the curve of your bone, "What hasn't?"

"A kiss. A first kiss, Peter. I've never had one."

"That's..." Peter sounds almost shocked, disbelieving. He never picks up that thought.

You turn your head away and toss your phone onto the bed, no longer interested in pretending you could distract yourself with anything else. You try to shrug your shoulder out from underneath Peter's mouth but he's quick, the hand at your back locking around you and you can't escape him even though you want to, even though you need to get away from his sweet smile and lovely heartbeat that thuds a little faster against your side.

It was already so much to tell him you hadn't had your first kiss yet, to admit to your best friend who—despite popular Midtown High opinion—has always been so irresistible to lovers, that you haven't gone as far as something so... simple. Something teenagers running your old stomping grounds have probably experienced ten times over by now. You don't think you can handle his pity too, "Peter, please."

"There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. Everyone moves at their own pace."

You hiss through your teeth. You don't mean to, but the spite overwhelms you like red hot heat for a minute, "It's easy to say that when you've done it already."

You catch Peter's eye and immediately regret it. His untamed brows are drawn together, expression more analyzing than pitying. Even though you're brimming with feelings, he seems as if he's trying to wade through them, search for the gnarled root at the center of it all.

Then, and he says this so carefully that the meaning takes a moment to catch up with you, "There's nothing wrong with you."

It's the sincerity that does it. You shove his hand off of you, jerk away from him in a scramble to stand, but Peter is fast and lithe and he's always been two steps ahead of you even before the bite. He's up on his feet before even you are, coming to stand in your way when you go to grab for your bag, "Peter, move."

"Look, can we... can we talk about this?"

"I really don't want to. Move."

"Why are you shutting me out?"

"Because I want to go home. Move."

"Is it because of what I said?"

"Yes!" You blurt, growing frustrated the longer he blocks your path, "yes. Because I'm sick of being told there's nothing wrong with me when clearly..." Your voice tapers off, afraid to give him the reason he needs to worry about you, "Please. I'm just tired. It'll go away on its own, it always does, I just can't be here right now."

The standoff between you two lingers, feels like you might have to fight him just to escape. It takes everything in you just to keep eye contact with him and not burst into tears.

Peter clearly doesn't want to let you go. You can see that genius brain of his running every possible scenario in his mind in which he convinces you to stay, cry it out, leave happier than you came. None of them come soon enough. You brush past him when he realizes he's got nothing, and even the hand that grabs for you is halfhearted, shrugged off with little force.

"I'll see you later, Pete."

You let his front door shut on its own.

It hasn't been great.

What typically took a few hours to shake off had settled over you like a dark cloud ever since you'd stormed out of Peter's place. Even though you texted him like everything was fine (and dodged any phone calls so he wouldn't hear the truth with those freakishly good best friend senses of his), you had yet to see him again. Had yet to let yourself be seen.

You told yourself that it was just you missing Peter, and you believed that to be true, but you also believed that when he looked you in the eye and told you "there's nothing wrong with you", you hadn't been prepared for the nakedness of it all. He'd dug deep, right to the source. That kind of thing was hard to move past.

So you avoided him. If he came by your place, you pretended you weren't home. If he showed up at your work to take you to coffee, you lied and told him you had plans with a coworker. It had been several days now and you felt more and more cowardly by the minute.

It was Peter. Of all people, it was Peter. Your best friend. You could tell him anything (most things, some kept a little closer to the heart). You should be able to.

And it was silly. Being embarrassed about not kissing anyone. Plenty of people were in the same boat as you and they didn't ice their best friend out about it.

Ugh, now you were just making yourself feel worse.

You'd had enough. You'd end this pity party today. As you make your way through your apartment door, you promise yourself that after you've showered, after you've made yourself a filling dinner, after you've settled into bed, you'd call Peter and ask him to meet for pizza this weekend. You'd talk like civil adults who understand that life isn't a race. You'd share your couch, laugh about the whole thing, and maybe, just maybe, the hollowness in your chest that longed for someone's desire to fill it would finally-

He's sitting in your kitchen.

Legs dangling off the island, mask rolled up to his nose, and a spoon clattering out of his mouth and into a bowl of ice cream. Your front door shuts gently behind you.

You stare at each other for a few seconds. Then you glance through your bedroom door, cracked open just enough for you to see the breeze rustling your curtains. You turn back to Peter, who's cleaning off his bottom lip of raspberry sorbet. "Did you climb through the window? You have a key."

Peter sets the bowl down beside him, shrugs, "You weren't returning my calls."

Your shoulders sag and you drop your things to the floor, "Peter-"

"No, no," you watch him slide off the countertop and bounce over to you, and the nearness you aren't prepared for makes you back away an inch or two, "No Peter. I'm not Peter. I'm Spider-Man. See?" He gestures to the suit.

You reach your hand up and pinch his exposed cheek, then narrowly avoid his teeth before he tries to nip you, "I'm not in the mood. I said I'd call you later, I'm just... busy."

"Busy avoiding your best friend."

You can feel him trail after you as you walk away, beginning to undress. He catches your coat when you throw it toward the couch and hangs it up all neat on a hook. He kicks your shoes to a wall and tugs your belt from your fingertips once you've undone it. Then, unexpectedly, he hooks said belt around your waist and yanks you back to face him.

The momentum throws you fully into his chest but he's sturdy, unmoving as you grip his shoulders and give him the most hostile look you can muster. You attempt to wiggle out of the trap but he pulls the belt tighter, forcing you closer, and then you start to panic as the space between you both disappears, "I haven't been avoiding you, I just needed space." You quickly explain.

"And I get that," he admits, "but you scared me. I've never seen you like that before. Not with me. Not ever."

Of course he hadn't. It was why you kept all of this a secret in the first place. Because you knew he'd worry, and you knew that there would be nothing he could do to fix it. Not like he usually could.

"It was a... brief lapse in self-esteem. That's all. You're making it into a bigger deal than it should be."

"It's not a big deal?"

"No! That's what I keep trying to tell you."

"So it doesn't matter at all."

"Correct."

"Right."

"It's just an arbitrary milestone that means nothing." You grip the leather of your belt but you're nothing against his superhuman strength. Pleading with your eyes, you do your best not to slip back into that vulnerable place all over again. Peter made you feel safe to do that. Way too safe to do that. "I promise. I'm not avoiding you."

You get sick of staring into the whites of his mask and so you grab the edge of it and pull it up to his hairline, little tufts of curls poking out as his face is fully revealed to you. You stare into those sharp, probing eyes of his, forcing yourself to stand the test of Peter Parker's perception.

Suddenly, you're released.

You stumble back a bit, the belt clanking against the floor, as Peter throws his arms up in defeat, "Alright, alright. I get it. I should've let you breathe the other night. I was just worried, is all."

You smile, "And I appreciate that."

Peter quickly glances at you and then away, making an exaggerated show of kicking imaginary dust off the floor. "First kisses really mean nothing then, huh?"

"Zilch. Nada."

"So... doesn't matter when it is, who it is..."

You watch him carefully, "If this is about when we were six-"

"No, no, I know that didn't count. You don't even remember it," his face contorts in a wince, "I was just thinking. Something."

Your eyes narrow, "Uh-huh."

"Well, I mean, is that why? Because you don't remember it? Or... is it because it was me?"

"The kiss?" Peter blows a raspberry, looking more bashful by the second, and nods without looking at you. "It's... it's because we were six. And we didn't know what we were doing. I was just mimicking what we saw. We didn't know anything."

"And now we do."

"Yeah. What are you getting at, Pete?"

He sits on the back of your couch and kicks his feet out in front of him. "If all that matters is that we both know what we're doing, and a first kiss is just a meaningless milestone to you, then I thought that maybe we could give it another go. You know. So when a real kiss comes along that actually means something, you'll have an idea of how it's supposed to go."

You're six years old again.

You and Peter Parker are sitting in the dirt, mouths covered in sticky ice cream that the summer sun melted right up. You're both talking about Flash Thompson's trip to Florida and the hilarious sunburn he came back with when you spot an elderly couple across the park, pressing their mouths together over and over.

You're looking over at Peter and asking about it, sure it couldn't possibly feel good, and he's telling you that when Uncle Ben kisses May good morning in the kitchen he always looks away because it's gross.

And you're thinking... you start thinking something.

You're thinking it would be funny—that Peter would hate you for it, but you're just so curious—and you're pressing your lips to his so quickly that he doesn't get a chance to pull back before you're giggling in the grass. And May's voice flutters in the background, a shrill and delighted, "I caught that!" that makes you both turn tail and run toward the swings.

Peter's still staring at you, waiting.

Part of you feels like it's pity. Like he doesn't want you to feel bad about yourself. Like he doesn't know how else to fix it, because he has to fix it. He has to fix everything. He has to be your hero.

But the other part? A restless and selfish part wants to take it; it's curious.

You take a step forward, the two of you watching each other, waiting to see if the other might back out at the last second. He stays exactly where he is, legs parting slowly, and the silent invitation makes you feel hot under the collar.

When you're standing between them, you feel his knees bump your legs on either side, his hands planted firmly into the couch cushions. You notice the grip he has on them, "Are you sure?" You pause.

Peter tilts his head in that strange, spider-like way. As if he cannot fathom why would you ask such a thing, "Of course. I'm the one who offered."

Your hands shake as they consider where to put themselves, and you get about halfway to his shoulders before he takes them and places them on either side of his face, mumbling something about how it might help you feel more in control, quell your nerves a bit.

Peter's cheeks feel so warm in your hands, and you can feel each swallow he makes the longer you take in his expression. "Should... I move in first? Or..."

He laughs, short and high-pitched, "I guess I can go first."

You know you're supposed to close your eyes, but as he comes in close, you can't help but keep them lidded, taking in every twitch of his mouth as he inclines his neck, shuts his eyes, and kisses you.

Your brain reacts a half-second after his lips touch yours. You've probably stopped breathing, and you have to force your lips to unstiffen so that you could actually feel him. His lips are a little wet—he'd been rolling his bottom lip between his teeth since he'd sat down—and they taste faintly of raspberry. They're not cold though, and the feeling isn't unpleasant.

You don't know how to react to it, don't know if you should move or not, and so instead you curl your fingers into the silk of his nape and wait for the pounding in your chest to stop.

You feel him mouth at your bottom lip just once, and then pull back. "How'd that feel?"

You recall the sensations that went through your brain (all that it can recall anyway, when Peter's looking at you like that), "Slimy...?"

Peter's face falls, and then he bursts into laughter, shakes with the force of it, and drops his head on your shoulder. "There's got to be a better word than that."

"I don't know! I was just thinking about the feeling."

"I don't want to know what it felt like, I want to know how it made you feel. Did you like it? Hate it?"

"I don't know. I'm- I'm nervous."

"Hey, that's okay," his hand rubs your hip, warming the skin there, and you find yourself leaning into it for comfort, "everyone is their first time."

Peter is so, so gentle. Your heart feels like it might give out, but a little less now that it's over and he's not looking at you in disgust. You don't know what you expected, but... this was better. By far. That part of you that felt selfish takes over again, "Can we try again?"

His eyes widen a bit, but he's immediately nodding, "Okay. Yeah. Okay. We can try as- as many times as you want."

You nearly choke on your spit. "Can we?" Your voice comes out a meek whisper.

Peter nods. He brings his legs in so that he's sitting properly now. "Of course. You wanna move me? I can sit somewhere else. Or you can sit if you want."

"No, I like you here," you say, feeling your stomach tighten when his thighs lock against your legs, "um. Is there anything I can work on? How did I feel?"

"Warm. Soft. Just try to loosen up, alright?"

You force yourself to release the tension in your body and move in first this time. Images of rom-com kisses flood your brain, how you memorized their rhythms and the placement of their mouths. You try your best to mimic it, make it feel as good as it seemed to look, when you feel one of Peter's hands slip behind your head and angle you away just a hair, "You're tensing up," he warns, making you pause, "it doesn't have to be perfect. It's just you and me. Breathe for me, okay? Turn your brain off."

You feel your stomach flip a bit, and nod along mindlessly. You try again.

This time, it feels a little different. Not wet or stiff, even if it is still awkward. It almost overwhelms you when, as you're mouthing at Peter's lip, he returns the favor, but you keep your brain empty. You can't focus on the details because it won't feel right. You can't focus on the way it looks because it won't feel right.

So you focus on Peter. You focus on the hand on your hip drawing you closer and the hand on your neck rubbing circles into the knot there. You focus on the feeling of his suit under your pinkies. You focus on the small hum he makes when, with quite a bit of building up to it, you pass your tongue over his.

Almost as soon as you do it, you pull back. Peter is flushed and it makes the beauty marks on his skin stand out more. His eyelashes flutter, a half-smile on his lips that are kissed red. By you.

You open your mouth to ask but he beats you to it, "I think you've got it now... yeah. Definitely." You're so relieved you sigh, sagging away from him, but he catches your hands before they can can leave his face completely and holds them in his lap. You don't dare move them. "How about you? Did you like it?"

You nod, speechless.

Peter laughs and squeezes your hands in his, "Okay, good. Good. I love you, you know? I know it doesn't... replace what you're looking for, but you're wonderful. You're insane and funny and stunning and there's nothing wrong... you know? You're perfect. Take it from your loser best friend who had to get bit by a radioactive spider to get to first base."

You snort, "I mean, if that's all it takes..."

Peter shakes his head and stands, but his hand remains on your neck as you follow his eyes to his full height, "So, we good? No more ignoring me?" You bite your lip, nodding your head. Peter smiles. "Good, cause I'm starving and I need you to split a pizza with me."

"You just polished off a tub of ice cream and you're still hungry?"

"I'm a growing spider, honey. And I missed you." Without warning, the hand on your hip hooks around your back and hoists you into his body, throwing you off balance once more, "I'll swing us there and cover cheese sticks too. Sound good?"

You know you don't have much room to argue when he's being so generous. And not when he's beaming at you, so genuinely relieved to have you back that it would knock you off your feet if he wasn't holding you up.

He was right; this wouldn't replace what you were looking for, but it gets pretty damn close. Closer than you expected, actually. But it's just the adrenaline. This didn't change anything.

Did it? You stare up at Peter.

"We can try as many times as you want."

You might have a very different problem than you started with.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes

[shower-phantom-ideas]

I love the idea that Danny wouldnt have the Meta gene (idk how to spell that shit where they can tell u aint right)

Like maybe his molecules are fucked and haunted but whos testing for that.

Danny gets approached by Bats and hes just like “bruh I don’t have it.” Hold his arm out “here man you can run your tests. Im literally just some guy ok. Look you have me confused with someone else “ and Bruce aint buyin non of it. Not until the test results come back. And the kid really doesn’t have it. He isnt a meta but Bruce knows he saw this same kid lift a car to save a crying child. But he can see the boy is human. I mean the tests would have shown that.

Bruce is now 93% convinced that someone is using this teenagers face. Or the kids been cloned. And is basically on the hunt for whoever it is but only keeps finding Danny. And maybe he approaches Danny about it one time. About the clone idea with a “I don’t mean to cause you any alarm but would anyone want to clone you?” And danny just shrugges it off and says “nah my clones are never able to remain stabilised” or he sighs and wipes out his phone to call Vlad right then and thereand puts it on speaker “oi fruitloop are you cloning me again because I swear man I will come down there” vlad just “no Daniel i am not cloning you anymore. We both know how that turns out.” Vlad of of course gave up on that so Danny believes him. Maybe Vlad tries to give his “maybe if you just join me” speech but Danny hangs up on him. Plus Danny knows hes messing with B a bit.

He leaves Batman with so many more questions and concerns. Like who is Vlad and why are they trying to clone this clearly very normal human boy.

Danny once past the panic is just livin it up that any normal feral teenager would. I think Jason would feel something off with the kid but honestly fuck Batman so he aint gonna say anything

[archangeldyke-all]

Are your Sevika requests still open? 🥺👉🏽👈🏽

I have this idea in my head that I can't get out. I'm not a huge fan of the concept of having kids (not for me!) but I can't help but think of Sevika very slowly changing her attitude and priorities around fighting for the cause because she just found out she's gonna be a dad in the future. Her hesitating around something Silco asks or mentions and her being like "I..I got a kid on the way." Cis or trans Sevika, doesn't matter either way

sevika requests are always open :) and this is the cutest thing i've ever heard.

i don't want kids either, but for sevika?? i'd have so many of her kids that the doctors would have to tell me to stop before my body gives out.

men and minors dni

you and sevika don't want kids. it's not in your plan.

sevika's got a dangerous job. it took years of convincing, years of proving to her that you'd be okay without her, that you want her just as she is now, for her to finally give in and make you hers.

and you're perfectly content.

she works horrible hours and comes home beat up more often than not, but you take the time to patch her up each night, and the two of you spend every free second you have together.

she moved you into her place on your fourth date, and you've been happily living together ever since.

and two years ago, when she shyly shoved a tiny box in your hands and nervously looked away as you opened it, mumbling under her breath a question you could barely make out ('i was wonderin' if you'd like to maybe spend forever with me?') you said yes, with no hesitation.

you guys didn't get married. weddings in zaun are incredibly rare, saved only for the wealthiest, and getting a marriage certificate from piltover for two zaunite women is nearly impossible. but, you had a little ceremony in the last drop (which was really just an excuse to throw a rager) to commemorate your eternal love for one another.

and since then, you've been perfectly happy with your little life.

but, accidents happen.

accidents like sevika swearing she'll pull out, begging to feel you without the condom, then cumming the second she pushes inside of you, whimpering and apologizing and cursing your hot, wet cunt.

accidents like you sleeping through the alarm for your pill.

accidents like sevika forgetting to grab a plan b on the way home, too busy fiddling with the tooth some goon knocked loose in her jaw to remember.

and, usually, these accidents lead to nothing happening. so you and sevika assume it's safe to keep letting them happen.

but then, your period's a week late.

and then two.

and then you take a pregnancy test, and it comes out positive.

and then you take three more, and they're all positive too.

you're paralyzed with shock and fear. you spend the entire day sitting in the bathroom, staring at the positive tests on the counter, crying and laughing, then crying again.

the thing is, you're not opposed to having kids. and now that you know you'll have one in nine months or so, you're fucking elated. but you know sevika doesn't feel the same. and the thought of losing her because of the cells growing inside of you, the thought of having to choose between sevika and the tiny little fucker you're already in love with-- it kills you.

sevika comes home to find you having a panic on the bathroom floor.

"babe, you'll never guess what silco did toda-- what the fuck!?" she exclaims, immediately dropping to her knees and gathering you up in her arms. "baby-- what's wrong? are you hurt?" she asks, grabbing your face in her hands and forcing you to look at her, her eyes flying over your body, checking for injuries. you just cry more, already mourning the loss of her touch that you've grown so used to.

"i-i-i'm sorry." you cry out. sevika blinks at you.

"for what?!" she asks. "baby, you're freaking me out, what's going on?" she asks, panic in her eyes.

you take a shaky breath then reach up to grab one of the tests on the counter behind you, sobbing as you bring it down to hold against your chest.

"i'm sorry, sev, i c-can't-- i don't think i can--"

"what's that?" she asks, gently reaching for your wrist to pull your hand away from your chest.

you gulp and bite your lip as you open your hand, letting her get a good look at the test.

the confusion on her face melts. a stoic look takes its place as she blinks down at the little plus sign on the little plastic test.

you look away from her face, too heartbroken to watch her process the news. tears stream down your face as sevika's hold on your wrist goes shaky, and you prepare yourself for her to pull away.

only, she doesn't.

if you had looked, you'd see the hesitant little smile pulling at the corner of her lips. if you had looked, you'd see the way she gulps like she always does when she's surprised, the tears welling up in her eyes, the way she took a silent gasp as she blinks down at the test in your hands.

you're shocked when she pulls you toward her chest, hugging you tight against her body.

"sev-- don't." you whimper. she blinks down at you.

"what-- whaddya mean 'don't'?" she asks. you take a shaky breath.

"if you're gonna leave just leave-- i can't-- you can't be nice to me, it'll kill me." you say.

sevika's heart breaks.

she's never wanted kids. and you're fine with that.

but the second she saw the test, something happened inside of her, something swirling and giddy and nervous. something kinda like how she feels for you, but a little different. a little deeper, a little less hot and a little more familiar.

everything else in her world fades away. the stories she's been dying to tell you all day, the fire in her heart for zaun, the sounds of drunkards stumbling by your apartment, it all goes silent. it's just you and her, and in that moment, sevika realizes that maybe a kid wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. especially not with you.

sevika kisses your forehead, tears welling up in her eyes at the sound of your muffled sobs.

"i'm not leaving you baby, don't be ridiclious." she says. you cry aloud at her words, wrapping your arms around her back and clawing at her shoulders, trying to pull her impossibly closer to you.

"don't say that." you whisper, shakily.

"i'm not just sayin' it. i mean it. we promised each other through thick and thin, right?" she asks. you nod against her.

"but you don't--"

"i don't care." she says. "i'm a fucking idiot, you know that." she says. you let out a shaky laugh. "i'm not leaving." she says again.

in your first trimester, sevika's still a little hesitant-- still a little distant.

she's not sure how to handle all the emotions in her body, all the love and anxiety swirling up at all times. she puts her energy into making you comfortable, holding you when morning sickness takes hold, stocking up on prenatal vitamins and your favorite snacks, pampering you even more than usual.

this, she can handle. she loves taking care of you, she loves babying you, and with all the anxiety in her mind surrounding the baby, caring for you helps her quell it.

she doesn't talk about the baby much. she's still too nervous to talk about it.

but in your second trimester, you start showing. no longer just a little extra fat on your stomach, your baby's actually visible now. your shirts start riding up your abdomen, a little swell peaking out every time you stretch or move, and she can no longer ignore it-- there's a baby in your belly. and it's hers. and it'll be here soon.

you wake up many nights with gas or aches, and find sevika already awake, a furrow in her brow and her lip between her teeth as she gnaws on it. you ask her what she's thinking about, and she just curls around your body and kisses you back to sleep.

sometimes, you wake up to her hand hesitantly rubbing your belly, like she's scared to touch you. you just rest your hand on top of hers, interlacing your fingers and keeping her hand on your stomach while you both fall back asleep.

if she was better with words, if she had the words to express herself, sevika would tell you that she's scared. she hasn't even met the little fucker yet, and she already loves it more than anything else in her life. it terrifies her, for all the same reasons you do. she has a dangerous job, and second in command to a revolution isn't a suitable job title for a new mom.

sevika knows what it's like to grow up without a parent.

sevika knows what it's like to grow up with a jaded parent, too, someone who's closed their heart off to the world to avoid being hurt, and in turn can no longer love. and she doesn't want to do that to your baby. she doesn't want to do that to you either.

and at work, when she gets in scuffles, or gets a knife drawn on her, or gets shot at, it takes her twice as long to catch her breath.

since meeting you, she's always seen your face flash before her eyes when she dodges a fatal hit. and now, it's ten times worse.

sevika was never scared to die before she met you. and then, seemingly overnight, she became horrified of dying-- scared of what her dying would do to you. she can barely stand seeing you suffer from a headache, the thought of leaving you behind, the thought of breaking your heart like that-- it nearly kills her.

and now she's got a kid to think of too.

so, one late night, sevika approaches silco with a grimace on her face and a case of fancy imported cigars in her hands.

he knows something's up. he's known for months. but he lets her stutter out an explanation as she pushes the case across his desk.

"i-- i think you need to find a new number two." she mumbles. he raises an eyebrow at her.

"second thoughts about the cause?" he asks, flipping open the lid of the case and grinning at the quality.

"no, never." she spits out. silco chuckles and holds a hand up, reassuring her that he was only teasing.

"it's your wife?" he asks. sevika blushes at the word 'wife' like she always does, then looks away.

"no. she's tough, she'd be fine without me." she says fondly. "i..." she gulps then takes a deep breath. "we've got a kid on the way, silco." she whispers.

he freezes, his jaw dropping in shock. sevika never calls him silco, no matter how many times he insists she does. she's serious.

"i didn't take you for the mothering type." he says. she chuckles.

"no, neither did i." she says with a shrug. "but... i'm not mad about it." she says. "i'm... actually really excited." she whispers.

silco laughs, then rises from his seat, rounding his desk to shake sevika's hand. it's the closest to a hug the two of them will ever get.

"you'll be an amazing mother." he says sincerely. she has to blink back tears at his words. "come, let's smoke to celebrate." he says, waving her over to his desk.

the two of them spend the night negotiating a new position in silco's crew for her. she'll stay on as his consultant and strategist, and take on more responsibilities at the legally run bar and club downstairs, but he'll be finding somebody else to take on the more dangerous and criminal aspects of her job.

sevika doesn't tell you for a few weeks, until the change is complete.

she stops coming home with bruises and scrapes. she starts being lot more openly lovey dovey, no longer waiting for the dark of night to place a hand on your stomach, praising you at any chance she can get, even buying parenting books and beginning the 'babyproofing' process.

you don't ask her what's up, knowing she'll tell you in time.

and one day, you get home from work to a home cooked meal and candles on the dinner table.

sevika grins at the sight of you. you fawn at the way she walks you to the table, pulling the chair out for you, pressing kisses to your head and shoulders.

"what's going on?" you ask, giggling as she sits beside you. (she never sits across from you, she can't touch you from the opposite end of the table.)

"i'm in love with you." she says. you laugh.

"we've been married for two years sev, you better be." you say. she laughs, and kisses you again.

"i've never been more excited for my future in my entire life." she says quietly against your lips. tears well up in your eyes as you grab her hand. "we're having a baby." she says reverently, like it's the first time she's finally processing it. you don't tease her for it, you just squeeze her hand in yours and kiss up the tears that race down her cheeks.

"we are."

"and it's gonna be here in three months." she says, a beaming smile on her lips. you smile right back and nod.

"it is."

"i... i want to be the best mother i can be for the little fucker." she whispers, staring down at your stomach. "i want to be the best wife i can be for you." she adds on, her eyes flicking back up to you.

you nod at her, still unsure of where she's going with her conversation.

"and i can't do that if i'm dead." she says. you blink and nod and she sighs. "i talked with silco. we got a new arrangement for me at work." she explains. "just paperwork from here on out." she says. "i'm gonna get all lazy and weak sittin' behind a desk but..." she shrugs. "it's worth it for you two." she says.

you abandon dinner to fuck sevika on the dining room table.

(it's not a big deal though, sevika's never been a good cook, and she tried her best, but the food that grows cold on the table was already burnt and unevenly cooked and so over-seasoned it was basically just a pan of garlic powder.)

silco, surprisingly, is incredibly invested in the little fucker. sevika comes home once or twice a week with a new onsie or toy for the baby, gifted to her by your kid's self-appointed god-father.

by your third trimester, sevika's more excited than you are for the baby to come into the world, which is a hard feat, because you're constantly achy and sore and peeing and bloated and uncomfortable and cursing sev for ever putting her hands on you in the first place. she takes all your complaints in stride, endlessly spoiling you, constantly massaging your feet and tits and shoulders, pressing kisses against all your hormonal acne and strange patches of hair, accompanying you to the bathroom the fifty times you have to go a day.

and when your daughter finally arrives, sevika cries like a baby the first time she holds her.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

[hauntingkiki]

HII!!! can i request Venture with pregnant reader? how will they react finding out shes pregnant? headcanons on them taking care of her throughout the pregnancy, giving birth, etc? Even them taking care of the baby later on!! and Venture parent headcanons in general!! sorry if it’s a lot, i’m just thinking of Venture as a parent!! SO CUTE!!! love ur writing btw!!

OMG AWWW YES! this is so cute! and it’s not a lot dwdw!! and thank you! i’m glad you enjoy reading my work!

Venture x Pregnant! Reader

Overwatch

2nd POV

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

- i want to start this off by giving a quick headcanon!!(idk if ive said it already) but i TOTALLY believe that sloan has a huge family, and i mean HUGE. bunch of brothers, sisters, cousins, nieces and nephews, so they’ve ‘experienced’ what it’s like to have someone who’s pregnant

- but anyways, into the request!

- so! a few weeks after the two of you got 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂, sloan noticed that you were a little…off?

- something didn’t sit right with them, but they kind of shrugged it off to ‘it’s been a while, and we both have shitty sleep schedules; it’s probably that’ and they went to work

- you knew something was wrong, so you took a pregnancy test from the bathroom

- ^ the girls in sloan’s family gave some tests for you just in case

- but anyways, you took the test, patiently waited the three minutes and-

- you were pregnant.

- sloan got home a few hours later, and you told them you made a discovery while they were at work. sloan’s mind immediately clicked to you finding a geo in the backyard but they closed their eyes, and opened them to reveal a positive pregnancy test!��

- they were so happy!! started crying tears of joy while they peppered you in kisses and engulfed you into so many hugs!

- when you’d have really bad morning sickness, sloan would hold your hair back and just sit with you on the bathroom floor

- they know you’re going through a lot, and you’re going to go through more as the months go on, so they’ll accommodate to your every need:)

- one of my irl pookies gave me a headcanon😳 she said, “venture the typa parent to act ike theyre calm and collected the whole pregnancy but constantly freak out and worry about their partner” WHICH I SO AGREE ON!

- even though sloan went through this multiple times, they’re so stressed out because it’s YOU! their partner!!

- you’d be in bed, upset about something then sloan will come to the rescue!

“don’t worry, i’ll go get you something!” *stands completely still*

*in disbelief while tears are STREAMING down your face* “WHAT ARE YOU DOING??”

“I-I DONT KNOWWW!”

- they panic so much cause they don’t want to make you more upset or anything:)

- sloan tries their HARDEST to not make you mad at them, but it just ends up with you crying because of how sweet they are towards you

- whenever you have a new craving, sloan is so down to try it. a good 70% of the times they like them! but the other 30%…never again.

- have you seen those cute gender reveals where it’s just the parents and they cut the cake? yall did that

- this and this tiktok are MY FAVORITE GENDER REVEALS EVERRR!! and it’s EXACTLY how i imagine it!!(kinda)

- the two of you were somewhere pretty, like a lake, flower garden or a beautiful meadow! and you two had the cake in front of you, the glasses in hand.

- little oneshot real quick for this😳:

“you ready?” sloan muttered, hands shaking as they held the beautiful champagne glass that was going to cut the cake to reveal the gender.

you nodded faintly, heart hammering against your chest. your hands shook violently, your wedding ring tapping against the glass, a faint ding sound ringed through the glass.

the two of you hovered over the cake, both glasses clinking together.

“i’m so scared.” you sighed, your voice cracking as tears stung your eyes.

sloan brought their fee hand up to your face, caressing your cheek before letting their hand rest on your arm. “it’s okay!” they reassured with a chuckle, rubbing their thumb across your forearm.

sighing, you nodded, the two of you closing your eyes and pressing down into the cake, pulling your glasses up once they were filled with cake.

“okay.” sloan chuckled, rolling their shoulders. “3…2…1…”

the two of you opened your eyes, you bursting into tears while you dropped your glass into your lap, the frosting staining your dress.

sloan let out a breath, eyes wide as they examined the glass in their hands before leaning it against the cake, pulling you into a hug as they two of you cried tears of joy.

it was a girl.

- once sloan found out you two were having a baby girl, they went on an outfit shopping spree; buying everything that they found cute for her.

- months have past and you were going to name your baby girl, d/n (daughter name), but, you were trying to figure out what she was going to call sloan when she starts talking

- you were looking for gender neutral titles for your lover, before sloan walked into the living room and sat next to you, unaware of what you were doing

- they turned to you the same time you turned to them, a sad look on your face as you open your mouth but sloan beats you to the punch

“…i’m going to be a dad.”

- your due date inching closer, the stress was getting to both of you. both of you were ready to see this baby but, what the fuck do you do?

- sloan backed a backpack full of necessities and left it in the car a month prior, so you were good there. the nursery was all set with everything the baby needed, baby monitor was also installed, stroller was purchased- the list went on

- then, it happened.

- as soon as the words “my water broke” left your lips, sloan suddenly locked in and knew what to do

- it all happened so fast, one minute you were in your apartment then the next you were in the hospital

- while sloan and you were waiting for you to be fully dilated, they helped you do some stretches and get your mind somewhat off of the pain, which helped a ton

- they held your hand the entire time, not letting go at all. they held your hand when you were getting your medication for the pain relief, and when you were pushing- they were at your side the whole time

- when you were pushing, you were expecting them to pass out, but they didn’t (you weren’t super surprised since they’ve been through this before)

- constant words of encouragement from them! they’d also give you small pecks on the lips during your breaks before kissing the top of your head

- then, many hours of pushing, the baby had arrived

- sloan started bawling the second they saw her, obviously letting you hold her first as the two of you cried happily together

- when you passed d/n off to sloan, you were a little nervous, but they did fantastic holding your baby

- while you were getting some sleep after the birth, they were just holding her. their mind was blown that they were a father, a parent!

- when they were getting sleepy too, they joined you on the small ass hospital bed, but they let you be practically on top of them, so it was a win in their book LMAO

- i think that’s all the pregnancy head canons😓 so let’s dive into the general parenting headcanons!

- they’re 100% playing in the dirt with your daughter, looking for rocks, worms, and other critters and surprises

- d/n definitely got sloan’s love for rocks and nature, she’s constantly begging her father if they can go outside

- you two hardly get mad at her, since she’s such an easy kid

- sloan deffo limited the amount of trips for work, only going on week long trips instead of month+ trips, but as she got older and more mature, they started going back to work again

- the wayfinder’s absolutely ADORE HER! she calls everyone aunty/uncle there and they treat her like she’s family(she basically is)

- if you and sloan want to go on a date night, sloan would drop her off and they’d happily take her in:)

- as she got older, sloan and her got more into archeology; them telling her all about their adventures and even about overwatch too!

- oh, and (mostly) everyone at overwatch loves her too

- rein, ana, and sigma have honorably taken grandparent titles

- they would so want to give her a quinceañera when she’s 15 (since mexican from sloan), but they won’t force her to have one if she doesn’t want one

- they’ll speak spanish to/around her, that way she can get familiar with the language and she can communicate with family members who only speak spanish

- and you do the same too! if you speak another language, that is

- they’re the overprotective parent when it comes to dating/boys

- if she wanted to have a sleepover with 10 friends, they’d so let her! sure, you’d probably get a little upset, but sloan would help feed them and clean up after them:)

- but, overall, they just really love their little girl. they’re so happy to have a family, especially with you!

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE!! thank you for requesting!! i hope you enjoyed!:)

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Adam Swapped Au Part 3

For making 900+ followers! Thank you everyone! 💖

TW: Mentions of rape

When Adam woke up he felt so well rested, the bed he was in was so comfy he never wanted to leave. Slowly he opened his eyes and frowned.

So it wasn't a dream he was actually still in Hell, very fucking pregnant and the devil's wife apparently.

Fuck him.

Adam groaned as he made his way to the bathroom to clean up for the day, Lucifer was nowhere to be seen and that was just fine with him.

There wasn't much in the way of clothes he could wear, there were a bunch of maternity clothes. Adam grumbled as he pulled on fresh sweat pants and a long shirt (NOT A DRESS) and went downstairs.

Adam furrowed his brow when he could hear voices coming from the lobby. It peaked his interest when he heard his name.

"I hope Adam is okay, maybe some sleep will do him good." Lucifer said as he paced in the lobby. Something was obviously wrong but he couldn't shake the feeling.

Charlie fiddled with her braid. "You don't think that he was, you know?"

The thought had crossed Lucifer's mind that maybe Adam had been kidnapped, raped, and left for dead. But for this long? He wasn't sure, Lucifer had to find out if the baby was his.

After all, they did sleep together before he went missing.

"I don't like to think about it Char. Maybe I'll take him to the doctor's just to make sure everything is okay." Lucifer needed a professional opinion to see what was troubling his husband.

"Don't I get a fucking say in this? I don't want to go to no gay ass hospital with you." Adam growled as he entered the room. He sat down on the couch looking completely pissed off.

Lucifer needed to be delicate, Adams mood swings were not one's to fight with. "We just want to make sure you're okay."

"Of course I'm not fucking okay! That little bitch of a maid you have in the shit hole stabbed me in the back 28 fucking times!!" Adam roared his eyes ablaze, his back throbbed at the memory.

Lucifer and Charlie's eyes went wide. "What!? Nifty did you stab him?" Charlie looked to her little friend who looked very confused.

"I would never stab one of the baddest boys, hehehe."

"Adam, do you remember anything from before you disappeared seven months ago?" Lucifer asked, he came over to sit beside him.

Adam snorted. "I haven't been missing, this is some nightmare joke! You're married to Lilith who has been missing for seven YEARS."

"Lilith." Lucifer spat out her name as if it were poison. "I bet that bitch is behind this."

"I wouldn't put it past heavens commander dad."

It clicked for Adam then, he was in a universe not only married to Lucifer, but him and Lilith have fully switched places in the entire storyline!

Adam felt himself get emotional, why was he crying!? He couldn't stop himself he was full on sobbing now. Adam felt arms wrap around him and he didn't seem to mind, they were actually comforting to him in the moment. "Shhh, it's okay it's not your fault."

For some reason Adam believed it cause what the fuck, this whole situation wasn't his fault he never intended on being an alternate universe version of himself. Especially one that apparently has Lucifer's babies.

-

They did end up taking Adam to the hospital to get checked out.

It had been super awkward getting a vaginal exam, Adam was sure his face was as red as a tomato. The doctor concluded that there were no signs of sexual assault which everyone was relieved about.

"So we are looking for a paternity test for the baby?" The doctor asked.

"Yes." Lucifer answered, not knowing was killing him. Adam was curious himself.

Doctor nodded and pulled up a needle. "Okay, I'll extract some amniotic fluid to test."

"That's not going where I think it is, is it?" Adam asked, panic setting in. That fucking thing was huge!

"You won't feel a thing your majesty, I swear."

Adam didn't believe him.

It was uncomfortable at best but he still didn't like it. There was a rush out in the results to be tested against Lucifer's DNA.

Adam crossed his legs and groaned, that fucking sucked.

-

It took an hour for the results to come back. And it was determined that the baby was in fact Lucifer's baby.

The King sighed in relief. One mystery solved.

Part of Adam was even relieved, at least his other self wasn't some slut having the baby of some random John, Dick, or Jerry.

Lucifer would put money on it that the reason for Adam going missing and having no memory, but also memories of a life that never happened on Lilith.

She never could get over letting Adam go. Her and Steve were, ironically, a match made in Hell.

If Lilith and Steve were behind, they would pay for this.

[wisteriaiswriting]

can you do a fic where kiriko, tracer and sombra get a call (or somehow getting informed) that the reader is in the hospital after a pretty serious accident?

ℍ𝕠𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕝 𝕍𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕥:

Words: 474

She tries really hard to hide her reaction when she gets the call, barely able to as she’s rushing out to see you.

Tries to stay calm during her visit but fails, constantly asking about you. Making sure you’re safe and comfortable.

Everytime she comes for a visit she will get you a gift until you return home.

***

“アコヤ!” Kirikos shouting was directed at the fox yipping at her feet, seemingly excited about your return. Managing to manoeuvre around her to gently sit you on the couch.

“Stay here, I’ll go get you some actual food.” Swiftly leaving the room, Akoya took this chance to get some long wanted attention from you. Landing on your lap before yipping at you, calling for pets.

Which you gave, causing her to get comfortable on your legs. So focused on her you miss Kiriko in the doorway, who was melting at the scene.

***

アコヤ - Akoya

She panics, so others have to try hold her back so she doesn’t rush over to you, likely finding a worse site.

When she finds out what happens she’ll start crying, but that won’t stop her from joking around with you.

Obviously upset when she has to leave, always promising to return the next day.

***

Everyday felt the same, hearing the same voices and repeating your new routine. That was until the rushing of footsteps arrived, getting closer until they reached your door to pause.

The faint and muffled voice of one of your main nurses was heard. After she was done the door slowly opened, with a certain someone peeking her head in. Over at your side in an instant.

“You’re finally awake, I’ve been waiting forever!” She dragged out the sentence for effect, and that's something she did pretty often. “And here I thought you would be waiting for me, guess not.”

Even as she spoke her actions said otherwise, cuddling close as possible to you. Her hands never left yours.

She was already on her way when you got into trouble, but unable to arrive in time.

Due to being with Talon and a criminal she can’t visit you like normal. So she arrives after hours, and is now able to visit for longer.

During this time she makes sure you have anything you need or want.

***

The nurses had finally finished their questioning, tests and whatever else. And you don’t think most of them know how, surprisingly tiring that all is. So you were just ready for bed and sleep.

Of course at the hospital there was always something to keep you up. Right now it was the blinding purple flash from your side. Hearing and feeling someone get comfortable on your bed before looking over.

“Amor despierto?” Her hand reached over to cup your cheek.

“With this I might.” Pulling her hand away.

“Rest up, I’ll be right here~”

***

Amor despierto? - Awake/Awaken love?

[lanitalay]

Before I Say Goodnight Chapter 8

a/n: This one is short but let me tell you its juicyyyyy and I could not wait to upload it.

Word count: 1.5k

Other Chapters

Azriel’s days at the House of Wind always started one of two ways: usually his shadows would let him know the sun was about to come up or he would have a nightmare. These days, the latter was a rare occurrence but every once in a while he’d wake up in a panic, feeling flames and oil on his hands. Up until recently he had never been woken up by his shadows informing him there was someone pacing outside of his door. It’s no threat, they whisper. He huffs a bit but gets up to see what they are talking about. When he opens the door he sees y/n. She jumps, startled by his sudden presence and when she looks towards him he can see the glimmer of tears down her cheeks. He was tired of seeing her cry, it made him feel completely helpless, it awoke something primal in him to protect. He scanned the hall but there was no immediate threat. She seemed to be doing better the last few days, over breakfast yesterday she even told him a story about her parents without shedding a tear. Although, there was still a shadow of sadness at the mention of family or whenever someone asked a question about her realm that she wasn’t expecting. “What’s wrong, y/n?” She stands still for a moment. He wishes he could read her mind whenever she takes long pauses like that “I had a nightmare”. “Do you want to talk about it?” she shakes her head, it's as if she’s trying to shake an image from her mind “no, no. It’s ok”. “You can tell me” she looks at him, her eyes lined with silver “does it not bother you to constantly be comforting me? Cause even I get tired of all of my crying and blubbering” he shakes his head. It was surprising to him how much it didn't bother him, trying to comfort her felt like second nature. “Nothing you do bothers me” she sighs, he wishes he knew what that meant. “I keep having this nightmare about someone dragging me back to the circle and everynight it hurts me in a different way. The first night it sunk its claws in my hips and tonight it bit my arm. And it feels so real…” she rubs her hands over her arm as if she’s soothing a wound. Azriel motions for her to follow him as he leads her to the kitchen “when we were kids and would get nightmares we used to sneak out of our rooms and make hot cocoa. It didn’t take the fear away but it was better than sitting around, I think it’s where I get my sweet tooth from” he looks at her and catches a gentle smile flicker through her face. 

“Any updates on the portal?” Rhysand asks. Azriel nods “yes, Gwyn said they found something and is planning on trying it out soon, but I have a concern” Rhys motions for him to go on “y/n has been considering the possibility that she was sent through the portal as a test subject, that it was some sort of trap she got caught in”. Rhys raises his eyebrows briefly “what do you think?” “I think it is a possibility, but I have no idea who could be behind it. Nothing else has been reported near the clearing so if it’s still open on the other side it hasn’t been used. But maybe whoever sent her is waiting to see if the portal works both ways. I fear that if we send her back, there'll be something waiting” Rhysand thinks, “how sure are you that she didn’t open the portal herself?” He can’t be serious “completely sure, you saw her memory”. He nods “yes but memories can be tampered with, there is a span of time before Lucien found her that is unaccounted for”.  Azriel stays silent, “just continue keeping an eye on her, if something else happens let me know”. 

“My best friend makes her hot cocoa with nutmeg” she recalls “is my cocoa not up to your standards” she laughs. “Don’t be silly, this is delicious'' then proceeds to take a long sip “see?” He smiles and sips from his own mug. “Azriel?” he hums “who do you like more Gwyn or Elain?” He chokes. “What?” “Oh come on, I know you like them and if you like Gwyn more I could totally talk you up” he shuffles on his feet and his wings constrict a bit “I think they are both very nice in their own ways” you roll your eyes “Azriel, please let me help you with this, I’m a great wingwoman” he shakes his head “I don’t like them like that, sorry to disappoint” this conversation is not going where he thought it would. “Is there someone else?” He stills “I don’t know” her eyes go wide “what do you mean you don’t know? Who is it?”

“You know how Rhys can be, brother. And now with Nyx he’s even more overbearing than before” Azriel understands his brother’s protective nature “I’m worried we will send her back to a trap, at least if she stays here she’ll be safe”. Cassian nods “I understand, but what if she wants to go either way? You can’t just keep her here against her will” Azriel doesn’t know so he changes the subject “did you know Eris was at the Manor when y/n was there? She said he had a meeting with Lucien” Casian’s brows furrow “I didn’t, last I heard from Eris he was working on keeping Beron distracted. Though, that was a few months ago” Azriel has never trusted the male. “Do you think he might be planning something with Lucien?” Cassian shakes his head “no, Eris isn’t dumb, but Lucien is due to come over soon, we could ask him”. 

“Please tell me” y/n asks for the fourth time “it was a joke, there isn’t anyone else”. "Pretty please?” Azriel grabs her mug and puts both of them in the sink “fine, I’ll stop asking”. She remains silent for a minute and then asks another question “Gwyn wants to try to open the portal in the clearing. She was wondering if you and Cassian could take us” he keeps his back towards her, meticulously scrubbing the dishes. “I’d have to ask him when he’s not busy”  he doesn’t want to ask him, he doesn’t want her anywhere near another portal. “Thank you” she looks at her hands and picks at her nails “I should try to get some sleep, can’t let the nightmare win” he wants to stop her, to keep talking. She slowly gets up from her seat and he swears she’s lingering. 

“What are the probabilities that it’ll work?” Gwyn pinches her brows “Az, I don’t know these are ancient books and I’ve never tested it out. For all we know that type of magic doesn’t exist anymore but maybe it does” Azriel is following her through the different racks “that’s not a helpful answer” she stops and turns to face him “all you need to do is fly us there and we can test it out, have you asked Cassian?” “Not yet” her eyes bulge “Azriel! Ask Cassian, we promised to get y/n back as soon as possible” someone in the library shushes her. 

She walks in the opposite direction of the rooms. Azriel doesn’t move. She stands in front of him and opens her arms. Azriel doesn’t move. She wraps her arms around him. A hug. “Thank you for being my friend, I know I haven’t been the easiest to be around” his chest tightens and he forces his arms around her “of course”. He feels that she let go too quickly and she pauses when she realizes his arms are still at her sides. His heart is beating fast, his mind is racing but he stays still. She looks confused, her brows furrow revealing a small crease in her forehead and her head slightly tilts. “Az?” The nickname punches him in the gut, the familiar lilt feels like a slap. She always called him by his full name, occasionally she refers to him  as Shadowsinger but never has she called him Az. The familiarity of the name gives him goosebumps. He still doesn’t move. Not comprehending what is happening to him. Unconsciously, he leans forward. Her face remains the same but she lifts her chin to maintain eye contact as his face nears hers. Blood is roaring in his ears and all he can hear is his heart, pounding. He could stop, he thinks, but that idea vanishes when he hears her small gasp. His lips graze hers in a chaste kiss. Testing. He begins to pull away but her arms wrap around his neck and keep him close as she crushes their lips together. His hands go to her waist and he lifts her to be seated atop the counter. Her legs wrap around his hips. He bites her bottom lip and slips his tongue in her mouth. It's a clash of lips and teeth, the kiss having opened the floodgates. His hands are everywhere now. He breaks away to trail kisses and bites down her neck and she moans when he grazes a particularly sensitive spot. At the sound Azriel pulls away, eyes wild. Her arms go to his shoulders. He stiffens, waiting for her to push him away and tell him it was a mistake. Her cheeks are red and her braid is disheveled. He wishes he could freeze the image and keep it in his pocket forever. “What?” She asks. “You’re beautiful” then kisses her again, and again and again.

[ghost-n-butteredtoast]

Can I get a Miranda fic where Reader is having a terrible day and Miranda notices and decides to do something about it. Fluffy please and thank you 😁

Well...I am not fond of Miranda, so I find her difficult to write, but I welcome the opportunity because she and I are going to have to get to know one another in my RE8 AU fic soon. Soooooo... dear @geekyarmorel, I hope I have delivered enough fluff here. Thank you for the prompt! Enjoy!

The Assistant

Mother Miranda x Reader prompt Requested by : @geekyarmorel

She was so…promising.

Vitals were stable. No immediate mutations. You turned your back on the subject for only a short while and disaster strikes. Pure, bloody disaster. 

Immediately you are pinned to the cold floor of the lab by the test subject now turned moroaicǎ. Its newly formed fangs that have ripped from its gums drip black blood onto your face. It rears back, gearing to lunge at you once again, but cries out in pain, suddenly going rigid and falling to the floor beside you.

Your eyes are wide open in panic and shock, and there is a ringing in your ears that muffles the soothing voice coming from somewhere close by, but you can not see the source.

"Miran-MIRANDA?" You cry out as you try to sit up. Gravity and pain send you back to the floor and into a small, warm puddle with a sickening splat. The room goes black.

"Still yourself, my little hummingbird." Came a voice from your side.

You wake up in your bed and find Miranda in a chair next to your bedside. She places her journal on your nightstand and rises from her seat to inspect your wounds.

Your hand finds the back of your head and you wince. "No touching." She commands as she takes your hand away from your aching head. "A minor laceration, but one that required multiple stitches. The scalp bleeds so easily, quite the puddle of blood I found you in. You had me worried. Luckily you incurred no fractures."

"The test subject. It was exceeding my expectations and suddenly it mutated! I - I have failed you once again." You said, warm tears making their way into your hairline.

Taloned fingers lift your chin gently.  "You never fail me, my sweet."

"But Eva… I just hoped, that maybe this was the one. I want this so badly for you!"

Miranda removes her hand from your face and studies you. She had grown fond of you while you had worked under her watchful eye. But at those words, your words, she could not help but feel more for you than she had cared to admit. She thought you only had an interest in the science of it all, the process, not the actual purpose…bringing back Eva…for her.

Slowly, Miranda stands to blow out the candle on your bedside table, and removes her robes, revealing her alabaster skin and raven-black feathers. The light of the moon shines through the window and illuminates her form. She stands bare before you, offering herself completely.

"If you were to feel me, every inch, you will find not a single muscle nor drop of blood harboring disappointment in you, my love."

"M-my love?" You whispered, your heart nearly exploding.

You are in complete awe of the woman who stands before you; so powerful and vulnerable, and you find your hands aching to touch her. Never did you ever think she would love you. You slide out of bed and fall to your knees. You wrap your arms around her, your head resting on her lower abdomen, and you begin to weep.

"No." She insists, her taloned fingers taking your chin again. "Rise. You do not belong on your knees before me. Your devotion to me and to my cause, my Eva, proves you worthy of being eye to eye.”

Your hands never leave her soft skin as you make your way up off the floor and into her arms. Once there, she holds your trembling form and caresses the back of your head tenderly making sure not to upset your wound.

“There, there, my sweet hummingbird.” She cooes. “Save your tears for times of joy. We will resurrect Eva in time….together.”

[azureashes]

Bless Me Father, For I Have Sinned Chapter Two: Screams and Sermons

18 + MDNI The next part of the Priest!Sukuna AU. Something's wrong with me. Someone stop me. TW: Voyeurism, Incels lusting after you, Religious Themes, Manipulation of Religious Ideals, Cult Themes, Domestic Violence, Family Wounds... and I think that's it. Chapter 1 I Chapter 2

"He could so easily find out who it was. So easily wreck his life, his reputation, his future… but wouldn’t it be so much more satisfying to have you do it? Instead of always turning away from the gun you carried, promising it was unloaded… What face would you make the first  time you pulled the trigger? He wanted to know." 

Darkness surrounded him, damp, palpable and ominous. His wrists were bound painfully behind his back, the zip ties digging brutally into his skin. He struggled to regulate his breathing, trying not to let the icy grip of panic close in on him, but it felt futile. 

He was Ryomen Sukuna’s captive. 

And anyone who knew the priest well enough to know that he was dangerous, rarely lived to warn others. No, they were caught and hidden away. Either they reappeared months or years later, suddenly enjoying unexpected wealth and success – or they were never heard from again. 

With a pained groan, he tested the binds once more but it was fruitless. His arms were bent backwards around a large metal water pipe that went cold or burning hot as the church above turned the tap. His screams were never heard over the church service, over all the footsteps passing overhead and the hubbub of the congregation. Thirst and the strain of crying out for hours on end to no avail had robbed him of much of his voice in the days he had spent in this rank prison, and what little sound he could summon was muffled by the pungent rag that he had been gagged with.

Sukuna hadn’t been to see him for two days and that mere knowledge terrified him, upending and laying waste to what he thought he knew about the man. If he was useless to the priest it meant he had no chance of survival. He craned his neck to look up at the ceiling and thought he could make out distant strands of light through the cracks in the floorboards of the confessional. But it was hopeless, there was rarely anyone in the church after the service ended, as Sukuna preferred to use that time for his own business. Business that Sukuna hid away on the priest’s side of the small confessional chamber. Business that he had hoped to discover. 

With a grimace, and tears pooling in his eyes, he resigned himself to his fate. He shouldn’t have been greedy. He should have listened when the team leader had told him to leave well enough alone. But the tip off that a local priest was actually running a secret criminal underground was too tempting. It could have made his career as a journalist – and now it would be the cause of his death. 

He remembered slinking into that confessional, trying to ask subtle questions, drawing out his notebook in what he had hoped was a discreet manner. He remembered being asked what he wanted, what he truly wanted, and his mind had blanked. He didn’t remember what his answer had been, he only remembered that it had been a lie. A wish for a nonexistent child of his to regain health, a wish for a promotion, anything he had hoped would be believable. 

But the silence that had followed was menacing. 

“Ryuzaki,” the priest had spoken his true name in a gravelly voice that froze the marrow of his bones. “You waste my time.” 

Before he could even wrap his mind around how the priest knew of his true identity, the floor had gone out from under him with a terrifying creak and a heart-stopping thud as the trapdoor crashed open. His stomach had lurched painfully and he had fallen ten feet, landing badly on his left leg that was undoubtedly broken. 

He had hoped Sukuna would come to interrogate him, had hoped he would still be of some use that he could leverage to get out of here but after two days… he had no doubt the dark priest would leave him here to rot. 

Tears burned in the corners of his eyes. His mother would say that he was not one for displays of emotion. That he had not even wept much as a child. But he cried now, in the dank, encroaching cold, on the unyielding concrete floor, in the face of certain death. Sobbing into his gag as he accepted his inevitable fate. 

Suddenly, a voice broke the silence, echoing sweetly against the walls of the empty church. 

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned….” 

Hope coursed through him with all the force of a round loosed from a shotgun, and the kickback left him reeling, shaken. Someone was there. Closer than ever. Someone who might hear him. 

He whimpered, then cleared his throat. Please. Please! Hear me! But he could do no more than pull at his restraints and try to scream hoarsely through his gag. Something warm and wet dripped down his bound wrists – blood. He did not care. Struggling to scoot forward, closer to those faint lines of candlelight far overhead he raged against his binds like a beast. Screaming and groaning and gasping, hoping against hope that the young woman would hear him and summon the authorities. 

He heard her gasp and hope crested for one impossible moment, until he heard Sukuna’s low, seductive murmurs, not at all like the threatening voice of intimidation he had dominated Ryuzaki with. Those low tones were followed by muffled moans, sharp intakes of breath, the wet sound of flesh slapping against flesh. The sweet cry of a woman on the cusp of ecstasy. 

His cheeks burned in shame at being an unwilling voyeur to their coupling, even as outrage coursed through him that the damned priest would so abuse his position of power. Out of options, Ryuzaki slammed his head against the water pipe behind him. The clanging echo deafening to his own ears, he could only hope the girl would hear. He repeated the motion, again and again and again until blood trickled down his temples, until he felt dizzy and lightheaded, until he vomited against his gag. 

Weak and weary, he hung loosely from his bonds, exhausted. Suddenly, he felt something splash against his forehead. A drop of water, then another. Almost like rain. He pulled back and watched the liquid drip, drip, drip into a small puddle right between his outstretched legs. 

Muffled conversation sounded overhead. The scraping sound of the girl rising from the confessional. The smooth, sultry baritone of Sukuna wheedling yet another gullible woman around his finger, and then they were gone. 

And he was alone, again, in the darkness. 

—----------------------------------------------------

Who had closed the door?

You jolted upright in bed as the thought occurred to you. Sukuna – you tested the name on your tongue again, relishing the shape of it, the taste of it – had been with you throughout. There had been no one else in the church. You were sure of it. The door to the confessional had remained open – Sukuna’s build was far too large to fit the both of you and close the door. In your nervous state, you had cast repeated glances over his shoulder to be sure no one was there and you were sure there hadn’t been anyone…

But then, who had closed and locked the church door? You distinctly remembered Sukuna lifting the latch as he let you out, although the door had been ajar when you had entered the church. These perplexed thoughts plagued you all morning as you prepared to face the day and made your way towards the dining hall, taking your designated seat automatically. You bit down on the tip of your thumb as you contemplated what that had to mean. Was there someone else? Hiding in the shadows? Or…? 

“Stop that!” your mother slapped your hand away from your mouth. “Nasty habit.” 

You swallowed thickly and lowered your hand, surprised as you had scarcely noticed your mother’s presence in the room as she arranged an arrangement of tulips in a vase. “Right, sorry mom.” Even as your brain unhelpfully reminded you of someone else’s fingers that had explored your mouth rather thoroughly the night before. The taste of them, the shape of them, how good it had felt to gag on them. 

You jumped suddenly to your feet, your face aflame as you realized you were quite unprepared to play it cool in front of your mother. “I’ll go help Linda in the kitchen,” you announced suddenly, hastening to make your escape. No one could know what had happened in that church, you reminded yourself as you slipped through the doorway to your family’s large estate kitchen, where Linda prepared breakfast along with two helpers. 

Thinking about the encounter nonstop from the necessary distance of your family home had given you some much needed clarity. A priest had had no business taking such liberties with you. Why, if anyone learned of it, it would cost him his priesthood! Not to mention, you admonished yourself with a glance at your ring finger, you were engaged to be married and you took your promises seriously. No, that had to be the end of it. You would not meet the wayward priest again. 

You could not quite explain what had come over you. The entire encounter had been so surreal. Like something out of a dream. And so, you were determined to consider it precisely that, nothing more than a dream, and move on with your life. 

“Young miss, there’s no work to be had for you here,” Linda announced brusquely with the merest glance at you as she pulled fresh buns out of the oven. “You’d best get on back to the dining hall.” 

“Please, Linda,” you breathed, still fighting back the warmth that had rushed to your cheeks. “I’m just trying to get away from my mother for a bit.” 

The brown-haired housekeeper gave you another once over and tutted. “Fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into, miss. I’ll be hoping young master John is responsible for that glow in your eyes and naught else.” 

“John?” you blinked at her, what did he have to do with anything? 

Linda stared back, nonplussed, and gave a stern warning glare to the other servants in the kitchen before crossing over to you, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. 

“Lord in heaven,” she exclaimed in a harsh whisper, gravely concerned as she took in your expression. “Where were you at all odd hours of the night, miss?!”

“What?” your throat felt thick with the lies you tried and failed to summon, and settled instead on the truth. “I was at church.” 

“Oh, right, church…” sarcasm rolled off her tongue, and I was born to a mermaid in a bar off a cove of South Italy, I was.” 

Your eyes went wide, “you were?” 

Linda smacked you with the dishcloth, “Of course I weren’t, you fog-for-brains!”

“Oh,” you rubbed your arm, embarrassed. “Then why did you say that?” 

Linda released a heavy sigh and took another long, worried look at you. “Listen here, young miss, I’ll say this once and once only.” Her eyes were brimming with love that she kept under careful lock and key. She had known you your whole life, raised you on her tea and cakes, and held you through countless fitful nights, where you clung to her, awash with tears and self-loathing.

“If you don't want to marry Mister Jonathan Engels, then for the love of all that is holy, have a word with your father, won’t you?” 

All playfulness forgotten, your shoulders slumped and you stared at your feet. 

“It’s all very well and good not to be fond of him, ye hear? But break it off proper-like and don’t go inviting other men into your broken heart while you’ve got enough of a mess on your platter, yeah?”

You hadn’t invited anyone in, per se, but that was far too difficult to explain to Linda. And if her perceptive eyes saw a “glow” on you then you would need to get yourself in check before you dared appear before your father. 

You knew Linda meant well, that she was only looking out for you. She couldn’t possibly know that you had tried to speak with your father. That you had voiced your concerns, your fears, your despair. But he had explained to you that John was your last chance at saving face within the family. That he was well-loved and accepted and would serve as the glue that would bind you to your loved ones as well. He belonged to a family of clockmakers that had expanded their business to all the reaches of the country, they were very well-off and your father’s bank had invested heavily in their business. Why not join hands more officially, they had thought. Children came and went, but business was forever.

When you had insisted you could not marry him, shakily standing your ground, you were rewarded with the back of your father’s hand. You never brought it up again. 

“I was at church, Linda,” you repeated solemnly, taking care to school your expression into something carefully neutral. “I swear.”

“Well, alright then,” she conceded, giving you one long, last look before turning back to her work. “But think on what I said, aye? Now get you back to the dining hall, ye little distraction.”

You nodded, a small, fond smile on your lips as you watched her a moment longer and then returned to the dining hall where your mother waited, now perusing a small novel as she sat at her place at the table. You sat beside her, offering a polite nod as you took your seat, duly sobered by your close call with Linda. 

“Goodness,” your mother scolded, reaching for the high, starched collar of your pale blue blouse. “It’s far too warm for such attire.” 

Instantly panicked you caught her hand before she could pull down the thin fabric concealing the purple bruise on the side of your neck. The best poker face in the world would not be able to save you then.

“That’s quite alright, Mama!” your voice was slightly higher than you would have liked and you winced at the sound of it. Clearing your throat, you smoothed out your blouse and added softly, “I felt a bit of a chill this morning.”

Your mother looked at you as if you’d lost your mind, but you were saved from further conversation as kitchen servants in crisp white uniforms quietly brought out an extravagant breakfast on gleaming silver platters. The spread included freshly squeezed juices, artisanal breads and pastries with clotted cream and preserves, a vibrant fruit display, and an array of perfectly cooked eggs and breakfast meats. Fluffy pancakes and crisp waffles were offered alongside a lavish cheese and cold cuts board. A final cart rolled in with fine teas and freshly brewed coffee, all served in exquisite porcelain cups. 

But the sight and scents of the food were lost on you, your stomach tying itself into knots as you waited for your father and your brothers to appear. You sat beside your mother, silently, watching the steam waft up into the air, until finally, footsteps sounded in the hallway, sharp leather heels clacking against checkered tile. 

You rose to your feet as your father entered, your brother close on his heels. You offered a small nod and murmured good morning in greeting, but he scarcely took notice of you as he took his seat at the head of the table, one of your brothers on either side of him. 

“Let us say grace,” he announced, his burly demeanor and brusque voice inviting instant obedience. You took hold of your mother’s hand, and she joined hands with your brother. Your left hand was empty. You stared at the lines of your palm as your father droned on, recalling what it had looked like when Sukuna’s black robes had been clutched in your fist, what the smooth fabric had felt like against your fingers. 

You did not hear a word of your father’s prayer, reflexively adding on an “amen” when you felt your mother pull her hand away. 

Now, your father looked at you as he cut through his bread, reaching for the meat as he eyed you warily. Your brothers instantly selected the same type of bread from the basket, the same cut of meat, imitating your father’s choices to the slightest detail. You did not notice your father’s sudden, unnerving attention, or how the table had gone very still as he watched you, engrossed as you were, staring at your own palm. 

“Where were you last night?” 

You jumped at the gruff sound of his voice, heavy with accusation, and your head whipped around to face him. “Oh, I…” the weight of judgment in his eyes made your mind scramble like static. “I was at church.” 

You thanked God that it was the truth. You doubted you had it in you to stomach a lie and stick to it before his all-knowing gaze. 

A moment’s weighty silence passed and then he questioned, “what church?” 

“There’s an old building in the market square,” you answered, your words tumbling over each other like a babbling brook as you tried to fight back any feelings of guilt, sure your father would catch on immediately if you looked like you had anything to feel guilty about. 

“So late at night?” he stared at you doubtfully, “What possible business could you have had there?” 

“I went to confession,” you answered promptly. And was fucked to within an inch of my sanity by the hottest priest known to man, your brain added on unhelpfully. 

Not finding fault with your story, but not quite satisfied with it either, your father scowled. “There was no need to go so far, or so late at night. The local church should have done you fine.” 

“Yes, father,” you agreed, and butterflies fluttered fitfully in your stomach chasing the next words out of your mouth before you had even consciously decided on speaking them. “This church has been very helpful, father, in helping me understand…” 

Your father cut you a sharp glance, warning you to weigh your next words carefully, and your brothers stared at you in anticipation as they chewed, open-mouthed, causing your mother to slap them on the shoulder. Anything that differed from the norm was met with contempt and suspicion, and you did your best to remain calm. 

“Well,” you began, suddenly overwhelmed by the attention. “It’s just that you know, I sometimes struggle with… obedience…” the word felt heavy on your tongue, “and understanding why God has required us womenfolk to submit to the men in our lives.”

“To question the gospel is blasphemy,” your father snapped, his eyes narrowing.

“Yes, of course!” you agreed hastily, eager to put his mind to rest, “That is quite why I was glad to have found this church that is helping me put my doubts to rest. I think I would like to go there again this Sunday if that is alright with you?”

You weren’t sure what alien force had put the words on your tongue. Hadn’t you just determined not to see Sukuna again? Hadn’t you just decided that his behavior made him unworthy of the robes he wore? What of his vows of celibacy? Well, granted, he had only pleasured you during your encounter, his own clothing had remained largely undisturbed. Perhaps there was a loophole in his priestly vows?

Your father considered this, his eyes narrowed at you distrustfully as if he felt you were trying to manipulate him. 

“What did they teach you there?” He wanted to know.

You fought back the warmth in your face as you skirted that dangerous line between truth and falsehood. You thought of Sukuna, the smell of him, the feeling of being surrounded by his muscular form, power almost rippling off of him. Of his confidence, his self-assurance, his easy, attentive manner.

“That God has blessed a man with power and leadership the likes of which he did not give to us women, to me. That in following him, I will be saved as well.” You could scarcely believe the words rolling readily off of your tongue. Words you would sooner have died than speak under other circumstances. 

A man, you thought to yourself. One, specific man. With a shock of pink hair and sanguine irises. 

Your father seemed satisfied and, leaning back, unfolded his newspaper, dismissing you. “Go there, then. See to it that you lend them ear.”  

“Yes, father,” you agreed, your heart rioting in your chest as you realized that in only three short days, you would be seeing Sukuna again. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Where have you been?” Jonathan scowled at you, hazel eyes narrowed in suspicion.

You glanced up at him innocently, “Whatever do you mean?” 

“Don’t give me that look, bitch,” he snarled, “I know everything.”

You shrugged and turned back to the ice cream sundae placed before you. “Well, if you know everything, then I’m sure you don’t need me to answer you.”

You were in the parlor of the Engels home and Johnathan’s parents were out of the house. He had dismissed the servants as well. It was you, him, and your ice cream that was melting almost as quickly as your sense of confidence. 

An invitation had arrived from the Engels House earlier that day, and as all the servants were aware of it, your father would no doubt be informed as well. And there was no possible excuse that he would accept from you as to why you did not answer your fiancé when summoned. 

And besides, you didn’t want to stir the pot now that Sunday was so close. 

Jonathan crossed over to you in two short steps and glared down at you. “You are my fiancee, I will not bear this disrespect.”

You shrugged, licking leisurely at your spoon. “Then don’t. How is that any of my business?”

His response was so sudden, it would have been comical under other circumstances. Without warning, his hand struck out and connected with the side of your face with such force that the spoon in your hand went flying, clattering over the marble floor loudly. You watched it strike the wall at the opposite end of the room and frowned. So much for your ice cream. 

You ignored the burning sting in your cheek, the bruise that would likely follow, and sighed, as if the slap was no more than an irritation and had caused you no pain at all. Straightening, you turned towards him once more. “Now, Jonathan,” you refused to let your voice tremble as you channeled your best imitation of your mother, “Was that truly necessary?” 

He showed no remorse and closed in, “I called your house two nights ago. You weren’t in. Care to tell me where you were? Who you were spreading your legs for, whore?”

You held his gaze beneath furrowed brows, weighing your next words. “I was at church, with a priest, Jonathan. I went to confession to seek guidance on our many conflicts and penance for my wrongdoings. So, unless you think a man of the cloth would ask me to spread my legs, as you so delicately said, as an offering… Well then, there you have your answer.”

You rose from the high stool you had been seated on and smoothed out your skirts, preparing to make your exit. Jonathan blanched and it gave you immense satisfaction to see it. “I - I’m sorry,” he stammered. You weren’t fool enough to think he was sorry for what he had said to you, no, he was ashamed to have inadvertently insulted a priest. 

You wanted to scoff at him. Sukuna would never.

He ran a hand through his hair, the fight going out of him. “Why didn’t you say that to begin with?” he frowned, “I was so worried. You know I’m only this way because I care about you.”

He reached out and cupped your cheek tenderly, it took everything you had not to recoil. Any conflict today would undoubtedly reach your father’s ears, Jonathan was always quick to tell tales about you and your father was always quick to believe him. So you gritted your teeth and allowed his touch.

Jonathan breathed your name as he sidled closer to you, his other hand also rising to cradle your face. “I have such great need of you, forgive me. Only, I cannot bear this separation. I want you to be mine, already.” His lips grazed your cheek and settled at your ear, “Let me hold you.” 

Then his hands began to wander and you rolled your eyes, knowing he would not see. It’s not like he was looking at your face. You huffed, wondering if there was a way to extricate yourself from this situation before Jonathan got too excited. You wondered if your father knew that Jonathan had taken liberties with you. You wondered if he cared.

When his hands cupped your breasts through your blouse, a flash of recollection burst into your mind’s eye. A crooked smirk, bold, regal features, eyes the color of blood - an endless hunger burning within them. Hands like the warmth of the sun, solid and all-encompassing. Something white-hot burned through you. “Jonathan, stop!” 

You caught his hands in your own and took a step back, breathing heavily. No, no, no. He could not do this again. Not after you had known warmth and pleasure. Not after you had been touched as if you were made of liquid gold. You could not let him have his way with you again. 

Jonathan smirked as he noted your labored breathing, the rise and fall of your chest, and you registered dimly that he mistook your outrage for lustful passion. The absolute moron. 

“No need to be so shy, baby,” he whispered, coming closer again. “It’s not like it’s our first time.” 

You clenched your jaw, trying to refrain from hitting him. 

“I fear I must disappoint you, for I…” your mind raced for something to stop him, anything. “I am on my terms,” you said finally, watching him carefully to judge his response. 

He immediately stepped backwards, as if stung, struggling to disguise the plain disgust on his face. “Oh,” his eyes journeyed downwards towards your skirt and what lay hidden beneath. “Well, that is quite… God, you could have said something!” 

“I did say something,” you grind out sweetly. 

“You’d best go on home, then,” Jonathan whisked up his coat and made for the door, eager to let you out and you felt a rush of relief that your ruse had worked so well. You really were getting cleverer by the day. 

Only a week ago, you would have been ashamed to deceive him this way. Him, your father, your mother, Linda… but now, you felt nothing of the sort. You had no time for a guilty conscience, because on Sunday, you would see Sukuna, and you had a feeling he would tell you that you had done well. 

—-------------------------------------------------

When you stepped into the church on Sunday morning it was a far sight from what it had been earlier that week. The sun shone brilliantly on the imposing building, and you realized that the stone walls were not black but a very deep burnished, coppery red. All of the ominous chill that had surrounded the building seemed to have dissipated in the morning light and churchgoers bustled to and fro, greeting one another as they prepared to enter the building for the service. 

You felt suddenly awkward and shy. You didn’t know anyone here, and the crowd outside of the church was full of smiling faces, they all seemed to be bold, confident individuals. People that seemed so sure of themselves, as if they had drunk of Sukuna’s own confidence, and – you noticed with a start as the crowd began to stream through the church doors – they were predominantly women. 

You blinked in surprise, following the crowd as you made your way to an empty pew, trying to get as close to the front of the church as you could manage so that you could have a good view of Sukuna, and wondered what it had to mean that so many women chose to follow this particular priest, this particular church. 

You settled into a seat two rows from the altar, and pulled your purse in close as other congregants settled in beside you. The dark grandeur of the church remained just as it had been on that fateful night, its twisted elegance both unsettling and mesmerizing. The mournful notes of organ music reverberated through the dimly lit space, filling the air with a haunting resonance. 

The flickering candlelight danced across the macabre artwork and grimly beautiful carvings, casting shadows that seemed to come alive in the gloom. The scent of incense hung heavily, its acrid smoke curling through the air like spectral fingers – although this scent was not as intoxicating as the incense that had burned in the confessional. 

The rituals unfolded while you were still occupied with your thoughts but the solemn entrance procession of the priest and altar servers startled you from your reverie. There he was, just as you remembered him. Tall, imposing, and devastatingly handsome. Always carrying himself with the air of one who knew the darkest secrets of the universe. He did not so much as glance at you as he made his way to the altar, the servers following close behind and you could not help but feel slighted. 

The familiar rituals began with fervor, the recitation of the Penitential Act, the chilling "Kyrie" that echoed through the cavernous space. Each element seemed to heighten the unsettling atmosphere, as if wrought with unharnessed energy, amplifying your fascination. As the Mass progressed through its unsettling rhythm—strange hymns, unsettlingly beautiful readings —you found yourself drawn inexorably to the altar, where Sukuna’s bold features tempted your eyes again and again like a moth to flame. At length, he finally began the homily, and his voice carried over the congregation in a booming, deliberate baritone. You shivered at the sound of it. You found yourself leaning forward so as not to miss a word, this was the moment you had been waiting for. You were desperate to hear his views. 

“Children,” he began smoothly, his face impassive – cold, almost. A sharp contrast to the wicked grin he wore when accosting you in the confessional. The address itself was odd as well, you thought, as most priests addressed the congregation as “brothers and sisters” suggesting an equality in the eyes of the faith.

“As we gather in this sacred space, let us unveil a truth that stirs beneath the surface of our faith—a truth both exhilarating and transformative. Within each of you,” his gaze swept over the congregation, the many women from different walks of life who had come to hear his words, but although your body tensed expectantly, his gaze passed over you as if you were not there. He continued, “Hidden within each member of my congregation lies a divine strength, simmering in wait. One not merely latent but alluringly potent, ready to reshape our world.

Reflect on the ancient stories we revere. Think of Jael, who boldly did what few others had done. What society might have frowned upon. But as she embraced the potential slumbering within her and cracked open Sisera’s skull, that act was more than courage; it was a declaration of divine authority. Her decisive action, emerging from the shadows, showcases the meaning of true power. And the blood on her hands made her holy.”

He extended his hands to both sides, almost in invitation as the sonorous tones of his voice washed over the congregation, weaving a spell over them. 

“Did not Esther use her understated influence to alter the course of history, proving that profound impact often comes from those they considered negligible and weak?

But how did she come to that power? Through the use of her beauty, through the allure of her charms… the very ones you are asked to conceal?” The lilt in his voice, persuasive and almost sarcastic, as if mocking those that would seek to constrain you, sang in your ears like the sweetest church bells, promising liberation. It was exhilarating.

You recalled the familiar biblical tales, how Jael had murdered the last of an opposing army who had come seeking shelter at her tent. How Esther’s beauty had earned her a place in the king’s court, and how she had then used that influence to further the interests of her own people. But Sukuna’s takes on them shed a new, uncertain light on these well-known events. Twisting what you thought you knew of the commandments of your faith.

“These are not mere tales, rather, they reveal a seductive truth: your untapped potential has the power to turn this miserable world on its head.” There was something dark and menacing in his voice and it sent a shiver down your spine even as you craved more of it. “Why else would men seek to control you? Why else would they twist the tenets of your faith to keep you far from the divine force that slumbers within you? 

But power is not simply handed to us.” He shook his head disparagingly, his keen eyes and hypnotic tones raising the fervor of the assembled. Although he spoke calmly and evenly, his sermon felt like a call to action, like a summons. “It must be claimed. Though it idles within your very flesh and blood, it demands courage to be unleashed. In order to grasp it, we must sacrifice the traditions and covenants that shackle us. We must cast off the constraints of what we think we know,” 

His powerful voice filled the chamber and echoed back to your ears. It wasn’t just you, you realized. Every single woman present stared at him unblinkingly, as if on the edge of their seats, hanging on his every word.

“And it is my humble purpose, the vow that I make to you all, that I shall leave no depth of power unexplored, no energy untapped. I will bring every single one of you to the height of your own divine potential, unlocking the fullest extent of your power and authority.”

He pressed a dramatic hand to his chest, beneath which his heart beat steadily, meeting the eyes of his congregation solemnly. 

“Let me awaken the truth of your own power within you. So that you may recognize that your worth is shaped not by external judgments and constraints but by the immense divine force flowing through you. Embrace this power with the understanding that it is formidable and unrestrained.

As you leave this sanctuary, carry with you the awareness of your divine authority and the knowledge that your path is guided by a higher hand. Embrace my guidance with the assurance that through unity and trust, you are empowered to fulfill a purpose that transcends the ordinary. That you are the custodians of the future, the inheritors of the world.

Amen.”

Resounding echoes of “amen” filled the church and you released a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding. You had never felt so seen. So alive. So important. 

In all of your years, all of your Sundays, you had heard sermon after sermon speaking to the men - and recalling the women present merely as an afterthought. When you were addressed directly it was to remind you of your duties in house and home, your obligation to obey first your fathers, then your husbands, then your sons. 

You had never heard a sermon like Sukuna’s in all the years you had lived. His ideas were dangerous, they flew in the face of societal standards and practices, and they were exciting. Addicting.

It was only when the women around you began to rise that you recalled where you were and collected your bag, breathless. You turned towards Sukuna, wondering if you would get a chance to speak to him, but were dismayed to see that a crowd was already surrounding him, each of them eager to get a word in edgewise. 

You lingered at the edge of the group, glancing at the watch on your wrist, wondering how long you could delay before you would be missed at home. You chanced another glance at Sukuna, but of course, he was not even looking in your direction. 

You noticed that some other women lingered, as you did. They didn’t share that same starry-eyed look that you and some of the other congregants had. By the looks of them, they seemed to be highly successful in their individual fields. They had that unique way of carrying themselves. The solemn expressions of women who did not need to smile if they did not want to. 

“Jessica,” you startled as Sukuna’s voice sounded just behind you, and the woman you had been observing, blonde and severe and beautiful, turned at the sound of it, as if this was what she had been waiting for. “A moment of your time.”

The words tinged the tips of your ears red. Sukuna asking for someone’s time didn’t always carry a hidden meaning, did it?

You watched him lead the blonde woman a short distance away, only to then discuss something of seeming importance in low, murmured tones. Maybe he was telling her how he wanted to get her alone in the confessional. 

You slapped a hand over your own mouth in reproach at the unkind thought. He had been very gentlemanly and perfectly priestly and you had no right letting your jealousy…

“New here?” you looked up at the woman who had spoken. She wore her black hair short and a tattoo you could not quite recognize peeked out from under her sleeveless blouse. She smiled at you, not unkindly, and you returned the gesture. 

“Is it obvious?”

“Painfully,” she laughed, “did you come here for Father Hotness or to ‘unleash your hidden power’?”

“I…” you weren’t quite sure. “I met him unexpectedly and he promised to help me with something. That’s why I’m here now.” 

The other woman blinked in surprise, “Well, that’s one I haven’t heard before. Although be warned, nothing gets you nothing. If he offered his help, he’ll be wanting something from you as well.” 

“Yes,” you tried not to blush, “I know.”

“As long as you know what you’re getting yourself into,” the black-haired woman nodded. 

“Are you,” you glanced over your shoulder where Sukuna was still engaged with the woman named Jessica, “a believer? I mean, in this church, in the things he says?”

“Would I be here otherwise?” Her blue eyes sought out Sukuna’s familiar form. “To think that the simple idea that we should not have to be ashamed simply for existing as women is that radical… the world really has gone to shit. But I love every damn word out of that man’s mouth, I won’t deny it.”

“Oh,” you shifted awkwardly on your feet. Was there no one else confused by how different these teachings were from everything you had been taught your whole life?

“Amelia,” the blonde woman had returned and nodded at the tattooed stranger. “It’s time to go.”

“Got it,” Amelia clapped a hand on Jessica’s shoulder and winked at you. “Take care, stranger. And don’t worry, he won’t bite… unless you let him.”

You stare after her in confusion as the two make their way to the exit, only noticing by your own elongated shadow that someone was standing close behind you. You whirled around in surprise to find Sukuna standing tall over you, an amused eyebrow raised at your expression. 

A quick glance around the nave revealed that everyone else had gone, but you had been so engrossed in your conversation with Amelia you hadn’t noticed. 

“You came.” A small smile graced his lovely features and it was suddenly worth everything you had risked to make it here. The fond expression was so at odds with the demeanor he had worn all morning that you almost believed it was just for you. 

“I… yes,” you answered, distracted, as you took another look at your wristwatch. Your family would be nearly home already, if you lingered much longer, there would doubtless be trouble. 

You glanced up at Sukuna, who seemed displeased by your distraction, and offered hasty excuses, “I’m so sorry, I really have to go. There’ll be trouble if I hang around too much longer.”

“Nonsense,” the dismissal was so confident that you briefly doubted your own words. Sukuna reached out for your elbow and began to lead you deeper into the church. 

“N-no, I’m serious, you don’t know my father, if I’m late…” 

He glanced down at you, those sanguine irises glowing ethereally in the candlelight, a simmering threat within them. “Would you like for me to know your father?” The question was spoken coolly, innocently, but you were suddenly afraid.

“No, that’s alright…” 

“This won’t be long,” Sukuna assured you, and you nodded. There was no denying that you wanted his attention, that you had hoped for precisely such a private moment – only about an hour or so earlier. 

As you approached the sacristy, which you were quite certain you weren’t allowed to enter, your eyes caught on the confessional just to your right. The site of your shame caused blood to rush to your face, thoroughly embarrassed. Your eyes caught on the hand holding your elbow, realizing that those very fingers had been inside you… and recalling precisely what they were capable of. 

God have mercy…  you sighed internally and struggled to put on a brave face. Sukuna’s smirk went completely over your head. 

“Where are we going?” you asked suddenly.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” was the simple answer as Sukuna pushed open the door to the sacristy. 

You tried not to be disappointed. Really, what had you been expecting? A repeat of five days ago? You were awful. Disgusting. Shameless. 

“How did you like the sermon?”

The question broke you free from thoughts of self-loathing and you found yourself answering easily. “It was very interesting. Very different from what I’m used to.” 

“Mm,” he agreed. “And how has ‘what you’re used to’ been serving you?” 

You fell silent as he led you down a marble hallway, empty but intimate and cozy. Not as showy as the main area of the church was. As you walked, you contemplated his question, and admitted the answer  – quietly to yourself, and aloud to him, “poorly.”

“Yes,” he hummed, guiding you with a nod down the hallway to your right. “Otherwise you would not have come to me, now would you?” 

You glanced up at him. It was true that your anguish had driven you up the steps to his church, but more than the guidance and salvation he had promised you, simply knowing him felt rewarding enough. You might have liked to meet him outside of the church, as an ordinary person. If he were a simple salesman, or something of the like, if he liked you even a little, you might have given up on your engagement for him. Maybe the two of you could have stood up to your father together. 

“I’m glad I met you, Father,” you confessed shyly. “Even outside of the context of the church.” 

A dark chuckle left his lips as he finally slowed down. “What a naughty thing to say,” he turned you towards himself, cocking his head to the side as he considered you. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

Any attempt at unaffectedness gone to the wind, your face burned a furious crimson as you blurted hasty denials, “Goodness, no! I would never!” 

He stopped entirely then, turning towards you, stepping closer until you were backed into a wooden sacristy armoire. “Never?” he purred, delighted by your distress. He tutted as you stumbled backwards, nearly falling over the armoire. “You wound me.” 

“But you,” you averted your gaze, suddenly shy and wanting to sink beneath the floorboards. You rose awkwardly to your elbows, unable to rise entirely as he hovered over you. “You’re a priest.”

Sukuna stepped closer, his right leg passing between both of yours, his knee brushed against your inner thigh, setting your lower lip trembling in anticipation. “And you’re engaged,” was the simple answer, his scarlet gaze dancing across the gem on your right hand, before wandering lazily back to your face to hold your gaze with an indecipherable expression. “Yet, here we are.” 

“I…” you didn’t know what to say. “I didn’t mean…” You desperately wanted this, but at the same time, you knew it wasn't right. Your mind was a jumbled, confused mess. The things he said in his sermons, the expectations of your family, your own twisted desire for a man you couldn’t possibly have. 

His hand found your face, cupping your chin, lifting your gaze back towards him. “I would seduce you,” he confessed on a low, husky whisper. “I would have you come undone, begging for me, moaning my name. I would have you relinquish every thought but the thought of what I can do to you.”

“I…” you built up the courage to finish your sentence. “I’m quite sure you’ve already done that.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” there was something demeaning about the epithet, something condescending in the malicious glint of his glowing eyes. “I haven’t even gotten started.”

“Lord Sukuna,” a halting voice called from down the hall. You were immediately brought back to the present and struggled to straighten yourself, but Sukuna refused to budge. Cold, lethal displeasure tainted his features as he glanced over his shoulder at the speaker. The shift from darkly seductive to deadly ire was so sudden that your breath caught in your throat. You wanted to draw his eyes back to you, to see if he would shift back to that hunger he liked to tease you with. Wanted to know if his tender seductions truly were meant for you alone. 

At the other end of the hallway stood a man of medium build, with long black hair tied back in a ponytail. He shifted nervously as he stole sneaking glances at the two of you. His foot was wrapped in a cast up to the knee and his face was gaunt as if he had not eaten in several days. 

“Ryuzaki,” Sukuna growled, a sound you had never heard before. One that had your heart skipping a beat. Whether in fear or delight, you could scarcely tell. “You were to wait until summoned.”

“I’m sorry, my lord, I thought…” Now the pitiful man glanced at you. One, two fleeting looks before his gaze was glued back to the floor. You could not help but pity him.

You pressed a hand to Sukuna’s chest, easing him off of you, grateful for the distraction. The priest had been weaving that dark spell over you again. The one that reduced you to putty in his hands, and you had promised yourself not to let it happen again. You weren’t going to sleep with a priest, for goodness’ sake! You were from a noble family, you were engaged to be married, and you had a sense of dignity! 

Get it together, you crazy bitch, you censured yourself. 

“Is this the person you wanted to introduce me to?” you asked, wriggling out of the cage of his arms. 

Sukuna drew back, acknowledging that the moment was over, but there was a lurking hunger in his eyes, still, that gave you the distinct impression that he would collect later – with interest. 

“Yes,” he waved a hand in a lazy introduction towards the slight man, “I would like for you to meet Ryuzaki.” Suddenly, his voice was all magnanimity again, bold and generous. His priests’ voice, you realized. The voice he used to bend people to his will. “Ryuzaki, this is the young woman you will be interviewing.” As an aside, he added, “Ryuzaki is an aspiring journalist, and he will be writing about our church. What better way for him to learn about our ways than through the eyes of our newest member?”

“Interview?” you paled, if your father caught you giving an interview… if your name were published somewhere, if anything you said consisted of ideas he did not approve of… 

“Sukuna… I mean, Father, I’m not sure I’m the right person.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sukuna dismissed with a wave of his hand as he led you to the chamber where Ryuzaki had been waiting moments before. “You’ll be doing that sack of bones a favor as he’s struggling to get back on his feet.” There was something menacing about the way Sukuna had said that last sentence, but you couldn’t quite tell what it meant. “And you’ll be helping out the church as well, of course.”

Sukuna settled himself in an armchair, gesturing for you to take the loveseat opposite and crossed one knee over the other as he watched your dilemma play out on your face. He did not seem to notice or care what Ryuzaki did with himself. “But,” you worried your lower lip between your teeth, anxiety threatening to overwhelm you. “If my father…” 

A glint of disapproval flashed in his dark eyes, as his eyelids lowered. He rested his chin on the knuckles of his right hand as he watched you fidget with the fabric of your skirt. “Ah, I see. You are your father’s possession then, are you?” 

You balked, your eyes darting towards him to see if he meant what he had just said, “No, of course not, I just…” 

“Then he owns your tongue, does he?”  

Feeling frustrated, you straightened as you crossed your arms over your chest. “He certainly does not!” 

“Who does, then?” Sukuna’s voice was dangerously light and unassuming. 

At your confused silence, he leaned in closer to you, without a care that Ryuzaki was watching the exchange with wide, hungry eyes. 

Sukuna cupped your cheek and drew a warm thumb over your lower lip. The simple touch brought you back to that cramped confessional, to the heights of ecstasy, the depths of desire. 

You averted your gaze, pulling your mouth free from his touch. “No one does,” you insisted quietly, your heart beating wildly in your chest. 

“That’s not quite right, is it?” Sukuna purred, digging his hand into your hair, taking a firm hold of your loose strands to tilt your head backwards, forcing you to meet his gaze. 

“Do I need to remind you?” he cocked his brow at you, waiting for you to deny the painfully obvious truth.

“You can’t mean for me to say that it’s you,” you protest on a ragged whisper, nearing the edge of your senses at his proximity, at the hypnotism of his dark whispers. All the seduction of honeyed whiskey and twice the intoxication. “Not after your speech about power and authority.” 

“Then deny it,” murmured Sukuna softly.  

The words were perched on the tip of your tongue, emphatic denials and blustering outrage, but you could not bring yourself to voice them because deep down inside, you feared a part of you did belong to him, in a way you had never belonged to anyone before. As if fate had led you to this eerie church, to that dark confessional, to this twisted priest.

You paused, considering, feeling both precariously at a tipping point but also quite safe in his unyielding hold. “I can’t,” you confessed in a hushed whisper and the beginnings of a smirk curved at the corner of his lips. You reached out and steadied yourself with a hand on his knee. “But I’ve spent my whole life trying to prove to my family that I’m not the enemy. For me to make a public statement of any kind would negate all that I have worked for.”

His eyes lingered over your features a moment longer, discerning and calculating. He seemed not to hear what you had said. His thumb brushed over your left cheekbone and you fought the urge to close your eyes, to lean into the tender caress.

“What’s this?” he breathed, a note of displeasure in his voice you had never heard address you with. 

You blinked, rudely awakened from the pleasant haze his touch had conjured over you, and realized that all of this touching must have cleared away some of the makeup on your face and that your ugly bruise from Jonathan’s slap must have begun peeking through. You drew back, alarmed and embarrassed, and sucked air into your lungs as if it would somehow clear Sukuna from your senses. 

“It’s nothing,” you answered too quickly and lifted a hand to the sore area. 

Silence lingered, painfully tense between you as you sat across from each other, your knees still touching. 

“Very well then,” Sukuna nodded, a veil lowering over his usually expressive gaze as he leaned back. “You will forgive me for overstepping.”

You rubbed the back of your neck, suddenly awkward. “There’s nothing to forgive.” 

“Lord Sukuna,” Ryuzaki said suddenly, Sukuna glanced coldly at him as if disappointed that he still existed, “perhaps I could…” he licked his lips and stared at you again. “Perhaps she can be reasoned with.”

You shook your head, “I can’t help you. The minute my words end up in print it will have irreversible consequences for me.” 

“You wouldn’t be helping me,” Ryuzaki licked his lips again. “But Lord Sukuna is facing considerable pressure to have his church closed down. This article could make a difference in public sentiment.” 

“Is this true?” you turned to Sukuna, concerned. His narrowed eyes were fixed on Ryuzaki contemplatively. 

“You’re certainly aware that this church isn’t popular,” he shrugged finally.

You bit your lip again. “I do want to help… I just…”

“There is no need,” Sukuna dismissed easily. “There are plenty of congregants willing to make a statement. It doesn’t have to be you.” 

“Oh,” you don’t know why you’re disappointed. “That’s good, then. I don’t know why I  was under the impression it had to be me.” 

“Yes, because of what you asked of me.” Sukuna waved his hand casually. “In order to gain what you have never had before, you must do what you have never done before. Power requires sacrifice,” Sukuna reminded you. “What are you willing to sacrifice?”

Your gaze fell to your feet as you were forced to recall that while you were willing to sacrifice a great deal for those you love, there was almost nothing that you were willing to sacrifice for your own happiness.

“Surely, a part of you must be curious to know,” Sukuna’s low voice cast its net again, spinning your mind in dizzying circles. “If you open your mouth and stop holding back…” He tilted his head to the side, his chin tucked between his thumb and forefinger contemplatively. “What kind of scream would come out, I wonder? How far would the echoes reach?” 

You blinked at him, suddenly curious yourself. What would you say if you weren’t always having to watch your words? How would the world receive it? If you stood up, as yourself, and all eyes were on you… what would they see? 

You glanced at Ryuzaki again who stared at you unblinkingly, before turning back to Sukuna, “Can I have some time to think about it?” 

“Naturally,” Sukuna agreed amiably. “Take all the time you need.” 

You nodded gratefully and as you did so, caught a glimpse of the wall clock to your right. You jolted in shock. “Oh, my God!” You were well over two hours late now, and anxiety and trepidation threatened to overwhelm you as you jumped to your feet. 

“I’m so sorry, I really have to go!” You scrambled to collect your purse and awkwardly straightened out the cushions – somehow leaving them more haphazard than they had been before you touched them – and bolted for the door. As an afterthought, you glanced over your shoulder and called, “I’ll be back Sunday!” And then you were gone with all the suddenness of a tempest at sea, leaving behind an unsettling quiet.

Sukuna’s amiable expression lasted until you had disappeared out of the sacristy, then a frown marred his elegant features as he began to wonder if you were perhaps too timid to be of any use. No matter, he would bring you around eventually. He always did. You were not the usual type of woman he took into his employ. Not nearly rebellious enough, not nearly accomplished enough. But the look on your face when you had confessed that you were evil had sunk hooks into his mind, refusing to release him.

You were so desperate to prove that you were good, to prove that you were no monster, that he was overcome with a twisted desire to see just what kind of monster he could turn you into. You wore a bruise on your face as if it were the natural order… the man who had raised his hand to you would be lucky to have bones in his face at all when Sukuna was done with him. 

He could so easily find out who it was. So easily wreck his life, his reputation, his future… but wouldn’t it be so much more satisfying to have you do it? Instead of always turning away from the gun you carried, promising it was unloaded… What face would you make the first  time you pulled the trigger? He wanted to know. 

His contemplations prevented him from paying notice to the quite insignificant Ryuzaki, who stared after you, nearly sick with desire and longing. He had recognized you immediately of course. The lovely lilt of your voice, the sweetness in it when you addressed him. It brought back memories of your gasps and moans in the confessional overhead. And you had been the one to get him out. Not long after you had left, Sukuna had arrived. Sure, he had crushed Ryuzaki’s leg under his foot, rolling it back and forth as a child might play with a log, listening to his screams as if they were the sweetest salvation, washing over him.

But then, he had offered Ryuzaki a deal. And the journalist was certain it was because of you. There was something about you that had led Sukuna to reconsider the fate he had chosen for Ryuzaki, though he did not know what.

His near death experience had made Ryuzaki understand that all that mattered in life was the pursuit of one ‘s desires, so as to be left with no regrets. The sight of you had awakened a terrible need within him. He was engulfed, still, in the scent of you that had wafted past him as you rushed out of the chamber, sweet and womanly, a light floral perfume. You were a perfect lady. Except that you were not. What perfect lady would allow a priest to toy with her virtue in a confessional? He knew the sounds you could make, he was sure he could drag them out of you as well. And although you wore that sweet and innocent scent in public, he knew what lay hidden beneath. He knew the heady musk of your release that had dripped down to meet him in his dark prison. Ah, but he craved it. He wanted to smell it again, taste it again.

For what he had wanted more than anything, as he had eventually confessed to Sukuna, was a woman to truly love him and stay beside him, and what he was now beginning to realize… was that he wanted you to be that woman. 

After all, a woman who spread her legs for a priest would surely have no scruples about spreading them for him. 

[tma-entity-song-poll]

Battle of the Fear Bands!

B6R2: The Eye

Ruler of Everything:

“S5 John”

Welcome to the Internet:

“The curse of knowing too much.”

Lyrics below the line!

Ruler of Everything:

Juno was mad, he knew he'd been had So he shot at the sun with a gun Shot at the sun with a gun Shot at his wily one only friend

In the gallows or the ghetto In the town or the meadow In the billows even over the sun Every end of the time is another begun

You understand mechanical hands Are the ruler of everything (ah) Ruler of everything (ah) I'm the ruler of everything in the end

Do you like how I dance? I've got zirconium pants Consequential enough to slip you into a trance Do you like how I walk? Do you like how I talk? Do you like how my face disintegrates into chalk? I have a wonderful wife, I have a powerful job She criticizes me for being egocentric

You practice your mannerisms into the wall If this mirror were clearer, I'd be standing so tall I saw you slobber over clovers on the side of the hill I was observing the birds (circle in for the kill)

I've been you, I know you, your facade is a scam You know you're making me cry, this is the way that I am I've been living a lie, a metamorphical scheme Detective undercover, brotherhood, objective, obscene Oh, no, no, oh yeah

Do you hear the flibbity jibbity jibber jabber With an, "Oh my God, I've got to get out of here or I'll have another Word to sell, another story to tell Another time piece ringing the bell" Do you hear the clock stop when you reach the end? No, you know it must be never ending, comprehend if you can But when you try to pretend to understand You resemble a fool, although you're only a man So give it up and smile

Do you hear the flibbity jibbity jibber jabber With an, "Oh my God, I've got to get out of here or I'll have another Word to sell, another story to tell Another time piece ringing the bell" Do you hear the clock stop when you reach the end? No, you know it must be never ending, comprehend if you can But when you try to pretend to understand You resemble a fool although you're only a man So give it up and smile

You understand mechanical hands Are the ruler of everything (ah) Ruler of everything (ah) I'm the ruler of everything In the end

Without looking down, gliding around Like a bumbling dragon, I fly Scraping my face on the sky Oh, no, no, oh, yeah

Welcome to the Internet:

Welcome to the internet! Have a look around Anything that brain of yours can think of can be found We've got mountains of content, some better, some worse If none of it's of interest to you, you'd be the first

Welcome to the internet! Come and take a seat Would you like to see the news or any famous women's feet? There's no need to panic; this isn't a test, haha Just nod or shake your head, and we'll do the rest

Welcome to thе internet! What would you prefеr? Would you like to fight for civil rights or tweet a racial slur? Be happy! Be horny! Be bursting with rage! We've got a million different ways to engage

Welcome to the internet! Put your cares aside Here's a tip for straining pasta; here's a nine-year-old who died We've got movies and doctors and fantasy sports And a bunch of colored-pencil drawings of all the different characters in Harry Potter fucking each other

Welcome to the internet! Hold on to your socks 'Cause a random guy just kindly sent you photos of his cock They are grainy and off-putting; he just sent you more Don't act surprised, you know you like it, you whore

See a man beheaded, get offended, see a shrink Show us pictures of your children, tell us every thought you think Start a rumor, buy a broom, or send a death threat to a boomer Or DM a girl and groom her, do a Zoom or find a tumor in your— Here's a healthy breakfast option, you should kill your mom Here's why women never fuck you; here's how you can build a bomb Which Power Ranger are you? Take this quirky quiz Obama sent the immigrants to vaccinate your kids

Could I interest you in everything all of the time? A little bit of everything all of the time? Apathy's a tragedy, and boredom is a crime Anything and everything, all of the time Could I interest you in everything all of the time? A little bit of everything all of the time? Apathy's a tragedy, and boredom is a crime Anything and everything, all of the time

You know, it wasn't always like this

Not very long ago, just before your time Right before the towers fell, circa '99 This was catalogs, travel blogs, a chatroom or two We set our sights and spent our nights waiting For you! You, insatiable you Mommy let you use her iPad; you were barely two And it did all the things we designed it to do Now, look at you! Oh, ha, look at you! You, you! Unstoppable, watchable Your time is now; your inside's out; honey, how you grew And if we stick together, who knows what we'll do? It was always the plan to put the world in your hand

(Laughs)

Could I interest you in everything all of the time? A bit of everything all of the time? Apathy's a tragedy, and boredom is a crime Anything and everything, all of the time Could I interest you in everything all of the time? A little bit of everything all of the time? Apathy's a tragedy, and boredom is a crime Anything and everything and anything and everything And anything and everything and All of the time

[dracowars]

Hi!! I love love loveee your writing so much ❤️ if your requests are open, may i request a fluff soft draco comforting the y/n cause she has such abusive parents that abuses her physically and mentally cause they think that its her fault that she has all these trauma but actually that trauma itself was caused by her family 😞, and draco already knows about it but one day she just started crying because something happened and draco was just comforting and giving soothing and sweet words!! I'm sorry if my request are too much and might be triggering to you, you can write it if you want and its okay if you dont want to either :) i just need draco to comfort me thru these fics :"D I'm sorry

against the world | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x reader

word count: 0,6k

summary: where y/n is suffering from trauma due to her parents

a/n: hopefully i could do this justice <3

warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of trauma, physical absue, mental abuse, toxic parental relationship

universe: harry potter

"And then he went on blaming me for not paying enough attention. Like, come on, it wasn't my fault the other team was clearly better", Draco scoffs as he is rummaging around his bag, fishing out some of his books for different classes before neatly placing them on his bookshelf, making sure they don't fall over. "My dad can be so annoying sometimes. Always fucking criticising me for nothing."

While Draco absentmindedly started talking about this topic, you are sure he did not realize what it inflicts in you. And you really want to listen, you really want to help him and give him advice, but there are no words coming from your mouth as you are pulling your knees closer to your chest, your back leaning against the wall while sitting on Draco's bed.

"I perform poorly in a test, I'm dishonoring the family and I'm a shame to the Malfoys. Oh, but when I actually get good grades, well, I wasn't good enough, I could have done better", he rambles on, still looking around his room, looking everywhere but you who is slowly sinking together, your forehead on top of your knees.

Terrible images appear in front of you, of your parents screaming at you once again, blaming you once again for being weak, for being traumatized by the things they did to you. They would never let you voice your opinion, they were never accepting any of your words, any of your feelings. All that mattered is that you behave according to their strict rules.

But you didn't.

A wave of emotions rolls over you all of a sudden when you think back to what they did to you, your own parents, physically and mentally, and you can't help yourself but to let out a loud, deep sob that finally catches Draco's attention. Without hesiation, he is at your side in a second, laying one hand on your knee while making sure to give you the space you need.

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking about what I was saying. I didn't mean to- I'm so stupid, I'm sorry. Please forgive me", Draco whispers in a fast manner, truly feeling bad for being the cause of your sudden emotional outburst. But it is not his fault, it definitely is not. You should have overcome your fears and trauma a long time ago, but these wounds are so deep that there will always be a scar.

Your own parents scarred you for a lifetime.

Wiping away your tears with the back of your hands, trembling, you allow Draco to put his arms around you and to just hold you, in his safe embrace where no one can ever hurt you. With one of his hands on your upper arm, he presses you into him, making you feel warm, while the other is slowly and carefully caressing your cheek.

Enjoying the feeling of his touch, you sink further into his side, your panic and anxiety slowly decreasing as Draco is holding you close, not ever letting go while constantly mumbling a mixture of apologies and reassurence.

"They can't hurt you here", he says, so quietly that you can barely hear it, but you just know what he means. You cuddle further into him, putting your arm across his stomach, your cheek on his shoulder, and listen to his slowly but steady breath which is calming you down. Draco puts his chin on top of your head, inhaling your scent while now caressing your arm. Where everything felt dark and restricting just moments ago, it now feels calm, quiet and safe.

"It's us against the world", Draco whispers, softly kissing the top of your head, making sure that you feel safe with him.

[ransprang]

BFF's Dad (Vergil x Reader)

It was a typical sunny day in Red Grave City, and you were hanging out with your best friend, Nero. You two had been inseparable ever since you met during a demon hunting mission a few years ago. Nero had become like a brother to you, always there to support and protect you. Little did you know that these innocent feelings would soon be tested.

As days turned into weeks, you began to notice a change in Nero's behavior. He seemed distant at times, lost in thought. One day, as you both sat on the rooftop of Devil May Cry, overlooking the city, Nero finally broke the silence.

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you," he said, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

You turned to face him, curiosity piqued. "What's on your mind, Nero?"

He took a deep breath, his blue eyes searching yours. "I... I think I'm falling for you, Y/N."

Your heart skipped a beat, and a mix of surprise and confusion washed over you. "Nero, I... I didn't expect this."

Nero's shoulders slumped slightly, his voice laced with disappointment. "I'm sorry if it's too sudden. I just couldn't keep these feelings to myself any longer."

Before you could respond, a familiar voice interrupted the moment. "What's going on here?"

Both you and Nero turned to see Vergil standing at the rooftop entrance, his piercing gaze fixed on the scene before him. Panic rushed through you, realizing the situation you found yourselves in.

"Vergil!" you exclaimed, trying to regain your composure. "This isn't what it looks like."

Vergil's expression remained stoic, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of concern. "Explain, both of you."

Taking a deep breath, you began to recount the truth. You revealed your secret relationship with Vergil, how you had met during a mission, and the challenges of maintaining your connection while keeping it hidden from others.

Nero listened in silence, a mix of shock and hurt etched across his face. As you finished speaking, you could feel the weight of the revelation settling upon all of you.

Time seemed to stretch as silence enveloped the rooftop. Finally, Vergil spoke, his voice calm yet filled with regret. "Nero, I understand your feelings, but Y/N and I have been in a relationship for a while now. I apologize for not revealing it sooner."

Nero's fists clenched as he struggled to process the information. "Why didn't you tell me? We're like family, Y/N. And not to mention you’re…younger than me!"

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to Nero, your voice trembling with sincerity. "I never wanted to hurt you, Nero. I hope you can understand why we kept it a secret. Our love was born out of circumstances, and we didn't want it to affect our friendship or cause any complications."

Nero's anger softened as he saw the tears in your eyes. He sighed, his expression a mix of resignation and acceptance. "I guess I can't blame you. But it still hurts, and feels very weird you know."

Vergil stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Nero. "You will always be my son, Nero. Our bond is unbreakable, regardless of any romantic entanglements. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive us." Nero shot his father a disgusted hurt look and stormed off.

Months passed, and the wounds began to heal. Nero, Y/N, and Vergil slowly rebuilt their friendship, acknowledging the complexities of their intertwined relationships. Nero eventually found solace in a blossoming connection with someone new, realizing that love could come from unexpected places.

As for you and Vergil, you continued to navigate the challenges of your secret relationship. Each stolen moment together became more precious, and the love between you grew stronger.

[igot-sarang-ggg]

Jolyne's Teacher pt.3 (Teacher reader x Jotaro)

Chapter 3- Coffee

Chapter 2- Panic |Masterlist| Chapter 4- Monday

Small Summary: It's a new school year, you're a third grade teacher at an elementary school in Florida with Jolyne Cujoh being in your class.

It was now Friday, "Alright class see you all on Tuesday. You'll have a sub in on Monday since I have an appointment I can't miss." I really wish I didn't have that appointment, "So, please behave while I'm gone."

"Yes Ms. L/N!" They all shouted, "All right, the bell is about to ring. Grab your things. Those taking the bus can leave once the bell rings." I grabbed my things and waited until the final bell. "Ms. L/n my dad wants to thank you for your help on open house." Jolyne spoke, "You're welcome just be careful and don't do that again, okay." She nodded and smiled, finally, the bell rang. "Have a great weekend guys see you all on Tuesday!"

Exiting the room with the rest of the students I locked the door and headed out with them. As I walked behind them someone tapped my shoulder, "Y/n, you have any plans for the weekend." Ms. Jones asked, "If you don't then we could go out and have a girl's night out. What do you say?" I smiled awkwardly at her, I've never really liked her and neither have the other teachers. "I already have plans for the weekend, sorry."

"With who? Last I checked, you were divorced and weren't seeing anyone." This bitch. "It doesn't concern you who I go out with. Plus, I have an appointment I need to prepare for... So, Enjoy your weekend alone." I gave her a fake smile and continued walking to the car pick-up area and into my car.

Once I got in my car, that's when the tears finally rolled out and I began to cry. Damn it, why would she... There was a knock on the window I quickly wiped away my tears and rolled them down. "Oh, Mr. Cujoh, what a surprise." I tried my best to smile at him but couldn't, "Sorry, didn't know that you were... I just wanted to say hi and I'll call you later today, okay." I simply nodded and we said goodbyes. Closing the window I took a deep breath, tried clearing my head, and headed home. Once I got home I took a shower and started grading some exams from today's test.

Today was a calm day, other than crying in front of Mr. Cujoh I'd say today was a success! It was now 11 pm getting close to midnight, I guess he might have forgotten to call me. I lay in bed getting ready to sleep when my phone rang, "Hello, Y/n speaking."

"Hey, it's Mr. Cujoh," He finally called, "Sorry for calling so late I was finishing up something for work and lost track of time. Is now a good time to talk or do you wanna talk in the morning?... You sound tired... Were you about to sleep?"

I cleared My throat, "No... Well yes, but we can still talk."

"Okay, I won't take up much of your time. We didn't discuss the location we'll be meeting tomorrow morning." I got out of bed, "Give me a moment. I don't know the address by memory." I looked through some draws and found the address to the bakery cafe. "Okay, so the address is..."

"Thank you... Would you like me to pick you up or will we meet there?" I would like for him to take me but I think it's best if we go separate. "We can meet up. Around Ten or eleven. Is that okay?" I put the paper away and sat on my bed. "Around Ten would be fine. I'll get going then, get some rest. See you tomorrow." His voice sounded soft but deep a the same time. "You too, Mr. Cujoh have a great night." I hung up the phone placed it down on my nightstand and stared at it for a moment. Now that I think about it, this would be the first time a parent has offered to take me for coffee to pay for what trouble their kid had caused. Mr. Cujoh seems like a great guy for taking the time to apologize to me this way.

The next morning came I was laying in bed thinking about Monday. I looked at the clock on the wall  I had an hour to get dress to meet with Mr. Cujoh, I got out of bed and headed to the shower. Starting the water I got in the bath and soon felt like someone was watching me. "Y/n, my sweet Y/n." I could feel his arms  wrapped around me and could hear his voice close to my ear, "Why have you forgotten about me? I gave you everything didn't I."

"Leave me alone you're not real. You're dead." 

"That's no way to talk to your first love that way." His hands traveled to my neck. "There was no love between us. Just fear." The voice stopped but I could still feel his presence and his arms wrapped around me. I turned off the water and stepped out the shower and presence was now gone. I sighed wrapping myself in a towel and exiting the bathroom. He still haunts me even after death. I continued getting ready for today

I arrived at the Cafe, went inside and looked around for Mr. Cujoh... To be honest I don't remember much of his facial features due to being in a state of panic because Jolyne was alone at school, so his face is kind of a blur to me. "Excuse, Ms. L/n." Someone tapped my shoulder causing me to jump slightly. I turned around to see Mr. Cujoh... well more like his chest, "Hi Mr. Cujoh. Thanks again for inviting me for coffee." I smiled at him, "Your welcome, its the least I could do."

"Hi, how can I help you?" The cashier called us over. "Yes, I'll have the Cheese cream Pastelitos." I looked at Mr. Cujoh he seemed uncertain about what to order. "If you don't like Coffee they also have soft drinks, tea, and some baked goods too."

"I'll have the same thing as her and add three muffins." The cashier placed our orders and then we waited for them to be done. After it was done we sat down at one of the tables in the back. I took a sip from my drink not knowing what to say to him or how to break this thick ice in the air. "How long have to been teaching?" His question caught me off guard for a moment. "Since I was twenty years old. I taught in Japan for awhile and then moved to Florida." He raised an eyebrow, "You taught in Japan?" I nodded, "Yes for about two years before moving."

"I'm from Japan... born and raised there actually." I smiled slightly, "Same here, but I was only there until the age of thirteen and soon moved to Italy with my... family. My Japanese is a bit rusty." I chuckled, Mr. Cujoh tipped down his hat slightly. "So, tell me. Are you a marine vet or..."

"I'm a marine biologist. I guess you saw the pictures around the house." Before becoming a teacher I wanted to be a Vet and work with animals, "Yeah, I saw a lot of dolphin picture. I'm guessing you like dolphins huh?" I took a sip of my drink. "I do, they're one of my favorite marine animals."

We spent the rest of the morning talking about his work and research his been working on and about Jolynes grades in class. "It was nice getting to know you Mr. Cujoh." I started getting out of my seat when suddenly I felt as if someone was pulling me back, I lost my balance. Mr. Cujoh noticed and tried reaching his hand out to grab me. I closed my eyes waiting for the impact of the cold ground but it never came. Instead I felt something soft, warm, and a bit firm hit my body. "You okay?" I opened my eyes and was met face to face with Mr. Cujoh, "Y-yeah thank you," I took a step back trying not to panic at the sudden closed distance between us. "I must of lost my balance when I stood up, sorry." Looking at him he seemed to be lost in thought, he looked at me and smiled slightly. "No problem, just be careful next time."

 I nodded, "I have to get going I told Annie's parents I would pick up Jolyne at around twelve." I looked at my watch seeing it was now 11:53 pm. "Oh my, you should get going. Thank for the coffee Mr. Cujoh." 

 "Your welcome..." He walked me to my car, "My name's Jotaro by the way."  He took out his hand, "Y/n." I placed my hand on top of his; he firmly grasped my hand and shook it. "I have to get going. It was nice meeting with you y/n." He gently let go of my hand, "You too Jotaro." And with that he entered his car and drove off.

Series Masterlist

[huffle-dork]

Glitch into the Hufflverse Chapter 3: SCLERA

Read Swapboys | Read Crystal’s AUs

Read SITCV | Read SATCV | GITHV Masterpost

When everyone starts to wake up- they realize they’ve been moved out of the main lab space they were brought into and put somewhere entirely new. The walls are bright white- almost blindly so. Alt, Schneep, JJ and Jackie all find themselves in separate small rooms. Each one has a tiny bed (that they weren’t even put on) and a collection of monitors along one wall. A camera whirls up in the upper corner, focusing on their every move. Windows are placed along two walls on each cell, positioned so they can all see each other. 2 rooms facing the other 2. Alt and Jackie on one side. JJ and Schneep on the other.

As they all wake up and take stock of their bodies- they’ll all notice there’s now a cuff on their ankle, tethering them to the wall.

Alt instantly starts to panic, trying to pull at the cuff or glitch- but he gets shocked for even trying, causing him to cry out. JJ isn't far behind in the panic department. He runs up to the window, pressing his hands against it and staring through the glass. He tries to cast some magic to break through the window but receives a similar shock.

Jackie's first instinct is to pull at the cuff, testing its strength. No good. The tether is sturdy and the cuff itself is tight around his ankle. "Fuck!" he shouts. His eyes dart around this small cell. There's a bed at least—that's good. A camera—bad. Monitors—unusual. He feels his breath quickening but he refuses to panic like Alt and JJ are. This can't be too bad. He's been through worse. At least this time he has the smallest bit of hope that someone will find him. Surely the others from this world will come looking for their friends.

Schneep feels around the room, getting a hold of his surroundings. The sparse furniture and small size mean he's quickly able to get a hang of it. Which... does not bode well for what's going to happen to them. If they don't care enough to give their subjects more than a bed, that's not a good sign of these people's intentions. He can sense souls nearby. It must be Alt, Jackie, and JJ...but...

JJ stares out the window at the others... and realizes something. The Jackie across from him... He's different. You're not my friend Jackie, he signs, staring at him.

Jackie looks up and shakes his head. "No, sorry. It's a bit hard to explain."

“Fuck!” Alt shouts, his voice breaking a bit at the end. He staggers to the windows and looks over at the others, “Fucking shit I… I’m so sorry guys- this… none of this was supposed to happen! I… I never thought they… that they’d get Chase…” he grits his teeth and then hits his fist against the window. “Fucking shit-!”

“Don’t blame yourself, Alt,” Jackie says quietly. “I don’t think any of us could’ve predicted that.”

Schneep shakes his head. “I should have run when you told me to instead of coming back. I would be more help out there than in here.”

“It’s fine Schneep… you’re not one to leave your friends…” Alt mutters.

JJ looks at him as well. That’s Schneep but… it’s not any Schneep he knows. I’m sorry, I’m very confused, he signs slowly.

“Don’t worry about it, you were tripping balls the whole time, that doesn’t exactly lend itself to a clear head. Fuck that Overdose woman.” Jackie runs a hand through his hair. “Basically we took you and Alt to the hospital because you were in danger, but it turned out to be a trap and we all got captured. You’re in another universe, by the way. And me and Schneep also aren’t from here.”

“Oh, so this Jameson also uses sign language?” Schneep comments.

“Yeah, what do youohhh shit, right, you wouldn’t be able to read signs if you’re blind!” Jackie gasps.

Schneep chuckles a little. “No, I would not. My JJ and I have a system, but I think it will be difficult if we are all in separate rooms.”

“I can relay it for now, don’t worry,” Jackie says.

JJ looks around some more. He still seems pretty confused, but nods slowly.

“By the way, where is other Chase?” Schneep asks. “I cannot feel him nearby.” Maybe he should go looking? Can he leap out of this cuff? “Ow!” Nope, the moment he starts, there’s a distracting shock.

Alt looks guiltily at Schneep and sighs, “…you won’t be able to use your powers here… not unless they want you to.” He looks sad and glances down the hall. “…I dunno where Chase is… but I’m guessing they’re… they’re gonna keep… using him.” He shudders and grits his teeth, eyes flashing brighter in anger.

Alt slowly takes a deep breath then looks away, “…I’ll catch you guys up though… fill in some gaps. So… I heard you all got sucked in here by… by rifts. They’re… new. The device I used to visit you all just… broke. And Basically the rifts are broken holes that suck people into different worlds …or even different timelines. but I… I thought they wouldn’t be able to come here but that’s… another long story. JJ- like when you all fell here these are… other versions of our friends I’ve met. I’d… explain how they’re different but-“ He glances at the camera in his cell and glares at it. Then he deflates, “…fuck it. I think they already know more than I think… Schneep is from a world where… his Anti is made of black magic… and he’s also Jackie and Marvin fused together. 

“And Jackie is… from a world where everyone but Anti is… well evil. Jackie’s trying to be better now though and their Chase has been put through some massive shit but… his Anti? He’s one of the most powerful ones I’ve met. He was able to get me, Bro and Jackie home after the TRVLR broke.” He laughs dazedly and shakes his head, “…I’ll have to try to see if I can c-contact him to get you all home but I… now we’re here and…

He shakes his head and looks between Jackie and Schneep, “Oh and for you two… JJ here is a magician in his world. Like me… he uses mainly ice magic though. But in his world… everyone’s roles are switched around from how you and me know things… like- their Jackie is a doctor… and their Schneep...  Volt- he’s a superhero.”

The others listen to Alt talk for a while, staying quiet, their expressions all varying types of shock. Once Alt is done, they look at each other with wide eyes, really taking the other two in.

“I know you said your Anti was evil, but… you didn’t say your Anti was me,” Jackie says to Schneep.

“It didn’t come up—though I don’t know if I would have told you if there was an opportunity,” Schneep replies. “I am not sure how to tell someone that they are part of a black magic abomination.”

“Well Alt just did it,” Jackie points out.

Schneep chuckles. “He did, didn’t he?”

“It’s easier for me to say I think… since I’ve been to every one of your universes.” Alt says with a shrug, “If I didn’t point out and learn your differences you’d all blend together…”

“But… also… the Anti from my world is gone now,” Schneep says slowly. “I… do not want to talk about him too much. It is in the past.”

Alt perks up at hearing Anti is gone and he smiles warmly, “You guys saved them? That’s… that’s great. I’m glad that… that’s over.” 

Schneep nods. "Yes... we are so relieved it's over," he says quietly.

“Oh.” Jackie blinks. “Well, uh, Jameson. Do you have an Anti?”

JJ nods. Nothing like yours, though. Anti is just a normal person there—one of my dear friends. Not some fusion or… whatever your Anti is.

Jackie repeats JJ’s words for Schneep, then adds with a shrug, “Anti is Anti. I think the closest description is some sort of electrical being.”

JJ nods. Are we really… that bad in your world?

“Are you really that bad? Uh… I don’t want to upset you or anything but… yes, absolutely.” Jackie nods. “I mean… my Schneep could probably get better, his case is kinda complicated, but my Jameson is… the worst. Just… just the worst.” He shudders.

JJ’s shoulders slump. He’s not sure how to respond to that.

Alt looks at JJ with understanding. “I know it’s hard to hear that J… but you and him are completely different. You’re the jaunty Jackson, you’re you.” He then laughs a bit bitterly and shrugs, “and well… if it makes you feel any better… I’ve really only met one bad Jameson… there’s way more evil Antis out there…” He grips his arms and lets himself feel for a second before shaking it off.

Schneep decides to brush this news off. “So… I am a superhero in another world.”

JJ blinks and smiles. A very brave one.

“Do I have powers, or…?”

In a sense. You have a lot of advanced technology.

Schneep nods. “I can see that.”

Alt laughs, “Volt is super cool Schneep… you’d like him.”

JJ still looks a bit disturbed by the news of an evil him, but he nods in agreement with Alt's statement. You do sort of remind me of him—more than the Schneep from this world.

"Yeah, it's strange," Jackie adds. "You definitely also remind me of my Schneep...but you know, a sane one with morals."

Schneep laughs. "Hearing you does sometimes remind me of my Jackie, too. And I know I have not interacted as much with you, JJ, but if Jackie is accurately translating your signs you at least speak a lot like mine."

"Doing my best." Jackie shrugs.

“God… if I had my spells books I’m sure I could find something to help you understand better Schneep,” Alt grumbles.

I may know something that can help, at least letting you understand my signing, JJ offers. Though… seems I can’t use my magic here. He looks down at the cuff.

"The JJ in my world also has magic," Schneep says. "Though... he is not a magician. It is very strange, he simply... gained magic one day. Very specific magic, too. It can help others, but not himself."

JJ tilts his head. He might be a warlock, then. Sometimes if a human is desperate enough for something, and has already been exposed to lots of magic, they gain magic of their own that's targeted to helping them achieve that goal.

"Yes, that does sound familiar," Schneep says slowly.

"My Jameson has magic, too... but it's not like either of those," Jackie mutters. "It's all contained in his pocket watch."

Oh, so he's a witch, then? JJ asks.

"Yeah, I've heard others call him that."

Alt looks very interested in the break down of different kind of magicians. Huh… interesting. He’s heard Mag call himself a sorcerer… is that what Alt is too…?

Jackie laughs. "You know... I think our three worlds might have more in common with each other than with this world. I mean, I'm sure this world is great, but things feel... different."

I've been here before, they ARE slightly different, JJ says. It's interesting.

Schneep tilts his head, thinking. "Perhaps... our three worlds are close to each other. And that is why a rift appeared in each of them."

Alt nods with a hum, “That makes sense… you all were really close to each other on the list the TRVLR had. Though…  I dunno. I’ve definitely noticed that outside of mine and JJ’s worlds… that every other one had our friend group in pretty similar roles. Like… Schneep is normally a doctor. Jackie usually fights crime somehow… Chase is usually, normal? Sometimes a dad… mostly a dad actually now that I think about it. Marvin’s a magician… or powerful. JJ too… usually Marvins and JJs are like… really close… and JJ usually has something to do with… time? Old fashioned if nothing else… and Antis are… glitches. Evil electric… things. Not human…” He digs his fingers into his arms, shivering as he remembers all the horrible antis he’s faced. “…there’s other exceptions but… that’s a pattern I’ve noticed.”

“Huh. Well… I guess there are… similarities, then,” Jackie says slowly.

“Not too many,” Schneep says. “In my world, Marvin and Jamie are not close at all. They are really barely friends, in a way.”

And those roles don’t fit my world at all, JJ adds.

“Well he did say there were exceptions,” Jackie points out.

“Still… if anything is possible, surely there are many worlds that don’t fit those patterns,” Schneep says. “It’s simply that maybe… maybe this is a pattern in the worlds we can reach, and it breaks down the farther away you go.”

“Yeah…” Alt shrugs, “Universes get… messy. Usually you can tell who’s who based on looks though or like- certain behaviors or mannerisms. JJ always has a mustache or is mute somehow, always uses some type of sign language. Jackie always wears red or a red hoodie, Schneep is always German. Usually brunette. Chase always wears a hat at the very least… he’s the easiest for me to recognize though.” Alt laughs a bit hollowly. “And Antis…” He touches his neck and then pulls away his mask to show his scar. “…if they don’t glitch then… they usually have a wound like this. Or… green eyes… sometimes green-blue, like mine.”

Alt quickly reties his mask and sighs, “But… yeah… that’s basically the gist of patterns I’ve seen. We’re always together too… always connected somehow.” He smiles a bit, “…I think that’s… cool, you know? You always wonder if… you’d know your closet friends if things were different…”

"Your closest friends," Jackie repeats a bit darkly. He shakes his head. No, he shouldn't be jealous of others. Just because things didn't work out in his world doesn't mean it's anyone's fault. "Well... I guess it's kind of... sweet, somehow, that these people always find each other."

Alt gives Jackie an apologetic smile. “…you all were friends before…” He tries to say before shaking his head. “Again it’s… complicated.”

JJ frowns. There isn't a Chase in my world, though. Then he pauses. You said he usually wears a hat...? Why does it feel like he's forgetting something? Like... he's on the edge of a cliff and about to tumble into an important realization?

Alt makes a bit of a choking noise at JJ’s comment and then swallows nervously. “S-Sometimes there’s gaps… I-I wish I knew what… h-happened to your Chase, JJ…”

Schneep chuckles. "So you have an impressive mustache, too, Jamie. Good to know."

JJ is distracted from his thoughts by that comment. He grins. I'm quite proud of it, too!

Alt laughs, “Never met a JJ with a bad mustache! Unless they couldn’t grow one yet.” He smiles thinking of the younger JJ he met.

But then he sighs and looks at their surroundings. “…now that we’re caught up with that… I guess I should tell you guys about this place…” he waves his hand at the cells. “This is Sclera… Jackie, JJ… it’s similar to your IRIS. Except Sclera is more focused on studying magic with science than just… science. So… they know how to handle super powered people… or strange things like… people from other worlds.” He rubs his wrist underneath the purple bands on his right arm. “…they’ve captured me before… experimented on me… I-I don’t know what they’ll try to do to you all but…” He swallows shakily, looking scared.

"Oh..." Jackie isn't sure what to say. "I... I'm sorry. F-from what I've heard from Anti about IRIS... that's bad."

JJ shudders. He sits down on the bed, pulling his knees up to his chest. Alt... Not too long after we got pulled into your universe, something similar happened to my friends and I. Well... a lot of stuff happened before that. But eventually we were all taken by our IRIS. So... I know what you've been through.

Alt’s expression falls, “JJ I… I’m so sorry…” He grips at his wrist, “…no one should ever have to go through that.. I’m…” He growls in frustration and his hands light up with his magic as it reacts to his emotions. He gets shocked for that though and he yelps and stumbles back. 

Schneep is quiet, looking troubled. "I... think there is an IRIS in my world, too. B-but they just make technology. I have not heard of any sort of... experimentation..."

Alt shakes out his head and addresses Schneep, “On the outside… that’s what these companies do. Experiment in secret to push their futuristic tech to the masses… trying to gain more control…” he growls, “It’s fucked.”

“Aw… thank you for the glowing endorsement, Mr. Brody~!” Dr. Cornelius’s voice echoes down the hall.

Alt glitches in surprise and then yells out as he’s shocked again and tumbles to his knee as he holds his stomach. “Motherfucker…!”

Coming down the hall and towards their collection of cells walks in Dr. Cornelius, Overdose… and Chase. Dazedly and stoically following after the scientists.

“Hello gents~ have a good nap?” Overdose giggles.

"Oh fuck off," Jackie growls, as close to the cell windows as he can and glaring. "Fuck both of you. Fuck you so hard."

“Oh- the tough one’s feisty~” Overdose giggles and goes to meet him at his window, grinning wide. “I like that… they’ll be fun to break~”

“Jin, please don’t rile up the subjects too much,” Dr. Cornelius chuckles.

Jackie just glares back at Overdose. He's not going to be broken. He's not going to give them the satisfaction. He's not going to cry or scream or beg. He's had enough of that.

JJ stays where he is, looking at the doctors silently. He tries to stay calm but can't help but shrink away. It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay—he has to keep telling himself that because he doesn't know what he'll do if he stops.

Schneep inhales sharply. "Chase?! Chase is that you?!" He can feel him approaching—is it true? Is he really being controlled by the scientists?!

Chase looks over at Schneep, something flickering in his eyes, but Cornelius snaps and his focus is brought back towards him.

“Yes it is~ Chase has been a wonderful helper for us here!” The mad scientist laughs.

Alt gets up and slams his hands against his window, his eyes burning bright and toxic with held back magic. “The fuck did you do to my brother?!”

Cornelius grins at Alt and then looks back at Chase and shrugs. “You know what? I think it’d be better to hear from him. Hero, why don’t you tell Alt what got you here, hm?”

Chase’s eyes slip shut and he slumps a bit, before he shakes his head rapidly and seems to wake up from his daze. He looks out at the others and seems panicked. “W-What…? How- no…! Alt I-!”

Cornelius snaps his fingers, “Hero, stay focused.”

Chase stiffens and looks a bit scared but he mumbles out. “I… a-after the TRVLR broke… I… I was trying to find more information about the rifts and I… I wound up here.” He looks at Alt with tearful eyes, “I thought they… they could help. I thought it’d be different- just getting i-information-! I thought I knew the risks… I thought it’d be okay- I’m sorry Alt, I’m so so sorry- I wanted to help-!”

“That’s enough, Hero.” Dr Cornelius snaps and Chase’s mouth shuts and the emotions drain off his face as he stands stoically still once again.

Alt watches his brother get controlled by the man who tortured him and- he can only stare back with a heartbroken expression. 

“And from there… we slipped in.” Cornelius grins, “Just enough so he would be none the wiser… a few subliminal videos here- some experimental things he could try for us in exchange for information…  soon enough we were able to make a pretty little sleeper agent out of Mr. Fantastic~ while he was none the wiser.” The doctor sighs though, “It was tricky to get a hold of though… there’s some kind of mental block that prevents true mental control. But… luckily there are other ways to control a body~”

Schneep staggers back, listening to Bro talk. The control this Dr. Cornelius displays over Bro's actions... it's bringing back awful memories. Memories of what happened to his own Chase, with Anti. Then he walks up to the glass, practically trembling with rage. He doesn't say anything, but his eyes change color, his scleras darkening to black and his irises turning a greenish turquoise.

JJ shakes his head, stunned. Seeing someone who he knows as a brave hero, acting like this... it's terrible. You're sick, he says, not knowing if they'll understand him.

"Yeah, they are, aren't they?" Jackie mutters in agreement.

Dr. Cornelius merely shakes his head at the others' attempts at insults. "Are we sick? Perhaps... only to those who don't see the good in what we do~! We're on the way to capturing magic for the masses to use! To understand its principles like they should be understood... by logic."

"How are you doing this...?" Alt asks quietly, glancing back at Chase.

"Hm? Oh, how are we controlling your brother?" Dr. Cornelius grins sharply, "It's fascinating, really! We're using a similar process to that dormant chip of yours Alt~" Alt stiffens and grabs his wrist, holding it close to his side. "We're capturing the energy that fuels his power- and only taking a bit of his brain power. Mostly controlling the limbic system and the thalamus- and generally leaving the cortex alone in case we need to influence something there~" He giggles. "We found that only in trying to control the whole of his mind was when we would get the... snag. That moment where something would hitch and he would break it. But, now? Well... these last few months have been very enlightening~"

Alt then yells in anger and hits the window. "You fuckers-!" He screams, electricity starting to rise around him. "I'll kill you for this-! I'll-!" He then screeches as Dr. Cornelius seems to click something in his pocket and Alt is shocked even harder than he has been. It only lasts a few short seconds, but Alt screams as his limbs jolt and jerk out of his control. He can't help but slump into a heap in his cell, clutching at his chest.

Jackie and JJ watch in horror. Schneep flinches upon hearing Alt scream. "Alt! A-are you okay?!" he shouts, facing towards him, a concerned expression on his face. JJ also rushes to the side closest to Alt, pressing against the window and staring at him, hoping he's alright.

"I-I'm okay S-Schneep..." Alt tries to pant, "I... I'm... ngh... 'm fine-" 

"Holy shit," Jackie whispers. "Do you mean—does Chase know what's happening? Or do you—a-are you blanking out his mind?" Both options are terrifying for different reasons. 

"Mmm... a little of both- though mostly the latter." Cornelius grins at Jackie. "He'll only know what we want him to know."

 "You—you fuckers,” Jackie growls. “You motherfuckers!" It's like his Jameson and Marvin started some sort of company to standardize their fucked up business.

JJ shudders, looking back at Overdose and Cornelius. Well, at least one of them understands him. What are you going to do to us? he asks, not sure if he wants the answer but needing to know.

Overdose giggles at JJ and prowls close to him too. "Oh excellent question! Right now... we're just gonna... get to know each other a little better."

Suddenly, mechanical arms shoot out from the walls of their cells. They grab the boys with one arm while the other presses a syringe into the vein on their necks. The injection burns through their veins but soon enough they're released.

"Holy shit!" Jackie's first instinct is to punch the robotic arm, but that only—"Ah fuck!"—hurts his hand. JJ reacts similarly, trying to use his magic but only receiving a shock in response. Schneep yelps and tries to squirm out.

Alt heaves, holding his neck with a look of panic. "W-What was that?!"

"Oh.. you'll see~" Overdose giggles.

Soon enough, they all find their vision getting blurry. Any panic they were feeling starts to flow out of them like water- they start to feel themselves relax. Their heartbeats slow, their breathing gets shallower and everything seems to start to... float. It's similar to how being on ecstasy felt but there's no undertone of panic or pain. It's just... nice.

Dread immediately fills JJ's chest as the effects start, with it being all too familiar to the drug from before. But that dread slowly fades. He giggles a little, swinging his arms as he stands.

Schneep blinks. He tries to walk up to the window but trips over the cuff's tether and falls. He pats the ground. It's still there. Yeah. He's not hovering. Would that be possible, though? These guys are weird and magic. "Mein Gott..." he mutters. "I haven't... felt... like this... ever." He shakes his head. "This... this isn't... good, I think..."

Jackie paces around the cell, trying to see if he can force the effects away with motion. But no, it's not really helping all that much. It just gets harder and harder to walk until he eventually gives up and slumps against the bed. He blinks wildly. His scars aren't hurting as much. That's good, what is Schneep talking about? That's good.

Alt tries to push himself up but finds himself falling over and over. He would normally be angry but he... doesn't feel that. Where did all his anger go? He staggers to the bed and climbs up it clumsily so he can at least see the others. But, that's when his limbs refuse to work anymore and he slumps against the wall, blinking up dazedly. "...what... is this...?"

He doesn't get a response- only one of the monitors on the wall sparking to life. On it- a simple colorful spiral. It has none of the colors that make Alt flinch or feel fear. No these are... nice colors... yellows and blues and whites... Jackie, JJ and Schneep get the same thing on their monitors, drawing in their gazes. Well, except for Schneep... the effect is lost on him.

Overdose giggles, "Why don't we start simple, hm? Let's start with everyone telling me your full names, ages and where you come from~"

Alt feels his mouth falling loose- the urge to answer stronger than anything else. Even as some distant part of him screams not to. That screaming part of him is smothered by the fog overtaking his whole body. "..An... A-Ant..hea... Taran Brody... 27... B-Brighton..." He can’t help but shudder after saying that name. He hasn’t heard that in a long long time.

"Anthea?" Overdose smirks at Alt. Alt manages to find her gaze and growls, baring his teeth, "C-Call me that and I'll rip you apart with my bare fucking hands-!"

Jackie panics for a moment, but... there's no purple in those spirals. But.. spirals... he shouldn't... Huh. It's kind of fun to watch them go... circle... swirling... He finds himself answering the question without really thinking about it. "M'name's Jackie... Jackie Parker. But I used to be Julia. I'm... I think I'm... 29 now? 'm from... this city called Mirygale... Not a good city, I think... but it's mine..."

JJ blinks, staring at the spiral. His head feels foggy... but not the bad kind of foggy. It's a good foggy. He didn't know something like that was possible. "I'm..." He clears his throat. "Jameson Daniel Jackson—" He coughs wildly, throat too hoarse to keep going. Signing it is, but he'll have to be careful. His hands feel distant. 28. From Mirygale, Britain.

Schneep shakes his head, trying to fight off these effects. He hears the others respond... or he hears Jackie and Alt and assumes that JJ does the same after the coughing. He takes deep breaths. Maybe... he should save his strength... for something more important. What harm could come... from this question? "D-Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein. Th...thirty years old. I live in Mirygale... i-in Britain, but... I grew up in Arzhorchal, i-in Germany."

Overdose shrugs and- well it seems her and Dr. Cornelius are taking notes. "Very good boys! Glad to see it's working~ Now let's see... what should I ask you all next?"

She looks at Schneep, JJ and Jackie, "Hm... Mirygale boys- We know you're from different dimensions... so why don't you tell us how your cities are different?" She laughs, "We already caught a bit about how your... little groups are different. Maybe this serum wasn't really necessary, loose lips~"

"Fuck you fuck you fuck you," Jackie says, though it lacks real bite. "We can talk 'f we wanna."

"I-I don't... I-I don't know a-about their cities," Schneep gasps out. "I-I just—i-it's a normal enough city, I think..."

"Not mine," Jackie mumbles. "It's not a good place... there's fucking crime everywhere... a dozen different gangs... and drug dealers and shit..." He looks at Overdose and flashes a grin that can only be described as feral. "An' all the coppers and shit h've been corrupted... most of them, an' more than usual, I mean. Same with... lotsa officials and shit... The city's fallin' apart, really..."

JJ shakes his head, shocked. That's not what mine is like. Mine is fine. We have... He falters for a moment. What do good cities have? Parks... and stage theatres... and trains...

"We don't have trains," Schneep mutters. "Just a lot of office buildings... Crime, but... not like Jackie is d-describing..."

I like it there, JJ says. I... want to go back... I want to go home... He feels tears welling in his eyes, and he hurriedly covers his face to wipe them away.

Alt dazedly looks over at JJ to see his signs and he clumsily tries to push himself up, " I'm g-gonna get you home JJ..! I promise- W-We'll figure something out, o-okay?"

Overdose rolls her eyes, "Alright- let's get a bit personal then. I see you all have quite the bit of trauma amongst you~ How'd you all get your scars and such? Or lose your voice, in that one's case." She points towards JJ. She grins at Alt, "You too, Mr. Illusionist. Tell us how you got that pretty scar of yours?"

Alt growls and glitches slightly- which gets him shocked again. He bites back the pain and then slumps back against the wall, falling back under the drug's pull. "... I was kidnapped... when I-I was 15." He tries to fight saying more but it just slips out, "They... t-they tied me up by my neck- cuz I bit one of the fuckers who took me. I didn't know I could glitch then... but I... I managed to do it and slipped through the binds... the ropes cut my neck though." He dazedly rubs at his neck, feeling the healed skin of his scar.

"I'm... I-I'm so sorry, Alt," Schneep says quietly. "You shouldn't h-have gone through th-that..."

"It was a long time ago," Alt replies distantly, "... its fine."

JJ blinks dazedly. He's always explained it away as an animal attack, but he finds that excuse isn't coming, and instead, the truth spills out. This being called Distorter lured me out of town, made me think a missing friend was there. But it was just Distorter. He attacked me. He wanted to kill me so he went for the throat. I'm only not dead because I have a friend who can divine things, and she knew I'd be in danger. But the damage was still severe.

Alt watches JJ as he signs and inhales sharply, "Distorter... y-you could talk before? T-That fucker...." He spits.

Jackie shudders. "I don—I don' wanna talk about—I-I don't want to talk about what M-Marvin did—I don't... I..." He tries to shake himself awake—but then he looks at the spiral again, and his efforts are in vain. The words come out anyway. "I got... shot and stabbed a lot... when I was out fighting, but... th-the worst of it... was after a magician I knew, Marvin, he... decided he didn't want to put up with me anymore. His magic... burns... It doesn't always leave marks, but when it does, it... burns. I-I don't know how long I spent—" He swallows a lump in his throat, curling up a little. "—it was a year, I think, I-I was stuck down there. H-he hated me. Especially after he... changed. H-he wanted to hurt me as much as possible before he killed me. I... I would've died... if Frederick hadn't found me." His visible eye goes distant.

Alt's eyes widen as Jackie tells his story. He knew some of it but, "A... A year? God... Jackie..."

Schneep turns to face Jackie, stunned. "That... th-that is h-horrible, I-I am sorry. I don't know if it'll help, but I—" No. Wait. This is the important thing.  He shouldn't say this. Not when there are these terrible people listening. And yet, now that he's started, it's hard to stop. "I—I was—I-it was magic that—that is why I cannot see, I—" His body starts to tremble. "Anti, he... h-he took my sight. I-I don't think... he knew it would happen... but he... he..." The word is on the tip of his tongue. Nightmare. Nightmare. Nightmare Nightmare Nightmare—

He suddenly shouts and tries to leap out of the cell again, but cries out as the cuff shocks him for his efforts. But he's not thinking of that word anymore, so he can't say it. Good. Good.

Alt jumps as Schneep shouts and tries to scramble up to look at him. "S-Schneep?! Are you okay??"

"I-I'm... f-f-fine," Schneep says, breathing heavily.

"Damn- you all have been through a lot," Overdose mutters as she scribbles all this down. "Interesting... very interesting... Think this is something we could use, Doc?"

Dr. Cornelius grins, "Oh, absolutely..." He eyes the others and hums, "Why don't you all tell us how your abilities work? Alt can be the exception again, we have a lot about him." He giggles. Alt glares at him and bares his teeth.

JJ shakes his head... it's not a no, it's just him trying to find the words to describe magic as he's always known it. I... learn spells... and I cast them. It's very simple... I think. I like... water and ice... and healing. But I can do a lot of things. Teleport... make shields... I can turn into an animal but I don't do it often... Some spells need gestures or spell words or my mask to focus them... Or I guess I could use a wand instead? Or a crystal ball? He trails off, looking thoughtful.

Jackie laughs somewhat hysterically. "A-abilities? Motherfucker, I don't have any special powers—other than a p-pretty high pain tolerance, I thi—" He covers his mouth. He shouldn't say that he doesn't have powers. He shouldn't say that. Not in front of these doctors. "I can still d-do a lot, th-though," he stammers out, voice somewhat muffled. "Sometimes spells aren't as fast as fists."

"Ah- sorcery... very interesting." Dr. Cornelius hums. He then eyes Jackie and smiles. "...even without knowing what you went through, I know what black magic scarring looks like... you are still a fine specimen to study, Mr. Parker~" He giggles a bit madly. "Oh... there's much to discover there... I wonder how much power lies dormant underneath~"

"I'm... not sure how it works," Schneep says slowly. "I simply... think about it... and I jump to somewhere else. Or I grab something that was not there before. I don't know what happened to make me this way... Something about m-my soul..." Are those two things his only abilities? Well, he can sense souls, too, but... something tells him to push that back. To resist revealing that. Better they think him completely unaware of his surroundings.

Cornelius studies Schneep too, "... curious. Very curious. You can disappear and reappear like Alt but... without the electricity. That is fascinating... definitely something we can try to uncover more about..." He looks to Overdose, "Dr. Sun, any other questions you think we should ask?"

"Oh yes... let's see..." Overdose hums. Then, she grins wickedly. "Give us all your weaknesses. Anything we can use against you."

Since he wasn't brought into this round of questioning, Alt's attention was brought back to the spiral on the wall. So, he answers almost immediately, too lost in the fog to try to fight it. "...loud noises... I... I have m-mysophobia... e-especially if it sounds like s-static... h-hypnosis... m' not very s-strong without my... my magic..."

JJ's eyes flicker. He recognizes that this is something he shouldn't answer, so he folds his arms to stop himself from signing—but as he does so, the words are spilling out of his mouth, anyway. "Not a physical fighter... and if I use too much magic I get sick and collapse. And I... I don't like being... watched... or ignored... a strange contradic—" He coughs again, unknowingly demonstrating another weakness.

"I don' like fire," Jackie mumbles, staring at the spiral on the wall. "Don' like... burning. I can... endure a lot, but... that... M-my head's prob'ly fucked a bit, too, I wouldn't be surprised if my James'n did some stuff... I don't know." Some tears line his eye. "I'm... I'm a bad person... I know that. Tryin' t'be better but... I know it. Maybe th' way scars hurt still is... fate's payback..."

Schneep turns towards Overdose's voice and waves his hand in front of his eyes. "I'm fucking blind, you... you... du verdammter Idiot, du Dummkopf, du Trottel..." He trails off into mumbling German insults.

"Alright alright yeah yeah it was a general question, asshat-" Overdose mumbles. Dr. Cornelius claps his hands. "Well then! This has been very enlightening~ I think that's all we need for now. Why don't you boys try to rest that off, hm?"

He looks at Bro and nods his head. "Hero? Why don't you keep an eye on them for me?"

Bro nods, "Yes, doctor." He goes to stand right at the edge of their cells, straight up against the wall, held at attention like a soldier. He's been here listening the whole time... and there's almost no way to tell if he understood anything that was revealed. Except the slight trail of tears on his cheeks, but his face still remains expressionless.

"Grand! Welp! We'll see you all in a bit~" Dr. Cornelius calls as he and Overdose walk out of the hall. The door shuts loudly and then... silence. Overwhelming silence.

Alt eventually whimpers and goes to curl up, pulling at his hair. "...I hate this... I hate this...!" He mutters through a bit of a choked up voice. "Fuck them... fuck all these fuckers...! Argh-!"

"F-fuck," Jackie breathes. As the serum is fading and his senses are returning, he begins to really process the shit they're deep in. "We just told them all of our fucking secrets." He feels a little sick just thinking about how he told them about what Marvin did to him. Even if he didn't go into detail, he didn't want them to know any of that.

JJ chokes back a sob, pressing his hands into his eyes. What are they going to do next? How are they going to exploit everything that they just told them? He raises his head slightly, and notices Bro. He crawls closer, right up to the windows. Chase, I don't know if you can understand me right now, but we'll get out of here. We will. We'll all be okay.

Bro's eyes flit to JJ's signs and his eye twitches slightly. His hand seems to tremble. But, he can't get himself to respond any other way to him. 

Schneep takes a deep breath. "There are—there are others outside," he mutters. "They—they must be worried. W-we just—i-if they do not come, nothing is perfect in any case. No defense is unbreakable."

"T-The others don't know we're here!" Alt stammers in panic, tears in his eyes. "They probably thought we w-went to the Dooms...! They don't know S-Sclera found us! A-And even if they did... w-what can they do?! Jays a t-therapist! Jackie can do parkour and sorta fight but... h-he's not an escape artist...! H-Henny can do some magic but I... I don't think it'll help here and t-then he'll just get captured too and I... t-that can't happen- H-Hen can't- I-If he got s-stuck here too I-I...!"

"W-well, they will notice if we are not there—" Schneep stammers.

"They won't k-know to look here I... I don't even know if we're s-still in that other hospital-" Alt mutters.

"Alt, hey, hey, deep breaths," Jackie says, scrambling across the cell to get as close to Alt as possible. "He won't get stuck here. None of them will. I-I can—I can do everything I can to make sure they don't, if they show up."

It's fine if you need to cry, but try not to spiral, JJ says gently. We can't get lost in bad what-ifs. I'm sure these people want you to be freaking out.

"Yes, exactly," Jackie says. "If you're freaking out, you're easier to fuck with. Deep breaths, Alt. Deep breaths."

Alt looks at the others with red-rimmed eyes and nods, trying to control his breathing. "... I'm sorry... I know it's not my fault you guys are here I just... I'm so sorry you're all caught up in all this shit... none of you deserve this..." He lets his tears fall quietly, rubbing at his eyes. "B-But you're right... w-we can't give them the satisfaction of freaking out..."

"For what it's worth, I do not blame you at all," Schneep says quietly. "No one is to blame, only those rifts." Assuming those rifts were freak accidents and not caused by someone deliberately, but he doesn't think that'll help for Alt to hear.

"None of us blame you," Jackie agrees.

And if we were not here, you would be here alone, JJ says. He gives him a small smile. I'm glad that you have company, at least.

Jackie nods. "Anything we can do to help..."

Alt lets out a bitter chuckle, "... I hate that you have a point JJ..." He curls his knees up to his chest. "...I'd be more of a wreck if I was alone..."

He's quiet for a second before he looks back at the others with determination. "...which means I have a clearer head... w-we can think of a way out of this." He leaps off the bed, still a bit dizzy but he starts to pace. "Okay... god I can't say too much but... we gotta... figure something out..."

He looks at Jackie and signs close to his chest, trying to avoid the camera, can you break your cuff? or- do you have anything hidden on you to try?

Jackie blinks. He thinks. They took my staff. And I was at home so I didn't have any weapons on me, he signs back. But might as well try. He pulls at the cuff, but finds it too tight to really gain much traction. That's gonna aggravate the scars around his ankle. He sighs, patting himself down anyway. Hoodie, pants, hair—hair. His eye widens slightly as he grabs onto part of his braid. There's something hard in there. Maybe something sharp.

You know we're leaving Schneep out of this conversation, right? JJ says. Not that Schneep minds. He looks deep in thought.

“Ugh I know-" Alt sighs, "I'm trying to figure out what I can do for Schneep..." He starts to pace again, "...his glitches aren't like mine... i-if we can break his cuff somehow then... then maybe?" He looks up at the monitors and all the electric things in the room. His eyes slowly widen, "...maybe I can drain the electricity...!"

"Hmm?" Schneep blinks to attention. "Well, yes, I never even thought about it as glitching before. More like forming a wormhole. I am sure that if this shackle was not shocking me... the things they use for you would not be effective. I'm not getting where you are going with the electricity, though. What would you do with it once you have it?"

Alt nods, "...I dunno i-it could be risky but... the cuffs are electric too. If... If I could find a way to maybe drain enough power or- m-maybe short out the systems...! Then... maybe that could be enough...?" He sighs, "But... that also feels dumb- I'd probably get massively shocked for even trying that... They know I can glitch into electric things so... they might be expecting something like that... Or I could overload myself..."

Through their mutterings, they don't notice another nodule that pops out from the wall. Something that looks like some sort of gun. Without warning, it shoots a beam of black purple magic at each of the boys, lighting up their systems with burning hot black magic.

Dr. Cornelius's voice crackles on one of the monitors, "Well gentleman! Hope you enjoyed your rest but... can't have you all discussing these kind of things~ sooo! It's my turn now~! Let's see how you all react to this!"

Alt gasps as the magic hits him and he falls to his knees. His eyes try to turn black and he grits his teeth as the magic crawls up his skin like veins. "N-No-! No not... t-this shit again...!"

JJ yelps, spinning around to see the gun retreat back into the wall. A hot, irritated feeling spreads across his shoulderblade, outward from the spot where the beam of magic hit. He suddenly feels sick, falling forward, arms trembling as they hold him up. Bits of blue magic spasm outwards involuntarily, triggering a shock each time it happens. He soon cries out and collapses fully. The magic shifts color, bright red joining the bright blue.

"Ow!" Schneep rubs his arm where the blast hit. "What the...?" His vision flickers—static swarms in from the side, taking over the blackness that's usually there. "Ah! Ah!" The sudden light after such darkness is painful. He presses his hands to his eyes, but of course, there's nothing he can do to block it out.

"Hey!" Jackie gets to his feet and spins around, glaring at the camera. "Huh?! So you guys are feeling threatened?!" He spins around. "Alt?! Are you— He suddenly stops, wincing. His scars are aching. They do that sometimes, but this is a spike in pain. A spike... that's not coming down. In fact, it's becoming more intense. "F-fuck. What the—wh-what did you d--" He cries out and staggers over to the bed, sitting down. "Wh-what's happenin—" And he cries out again.

He presses back against the wall, taking deep breaths. Breathing through the rising pain. This is fine. Whatever this is happening, it can't last forever. "Ack!" His eye! His eye is burning! His hand shoots up to his eye-patch, pressing against it. The scars on the back are... glowing, slightly. And so are the ones on his face. It's a dark, dark glow, a strange black light that's purple around the edges. He shudders. As the pain intensifies, so does the glow. He falls to his side—then shrieks and turns over so he's lying on the side that's less scarred.

Alt digs his fingers into the floor and bites back a scream. The magic is eating up his own- corrupting it. Turning it into something it's not. He hears the sounds of his friends in distress and he tries to glitch up, only to be met with another shock that sends him back down on his hands and knees with a yell. He bends his head down and then- starts to giggle. Bright purple is trying to fill his irises around pure black sclera and Alt can't help but let out a manic sounding laugh, even if his face looks pained doing it. He heaves, trying to push it back, but magic is crackling around him.

Dr. Cornelius is so intrigued by what JJ's and Alt's magic is doing- he shuts off their cuffs. If anything bad happens- the hero is there to stop it. And- their cells have better protection than the last time Alt was here.

"Wh-what is happening?!" Schneep asks. "Alt?!"

Jackie hears the strange laughter coming from Alt's cell but he can't look towards it. He picks up the pillow and bites onto it. He's not going to scream. He's not going to scream. Even as his scars burn with agonizing acid, he's not going to let them hear him scream. The strange black glow is brightening.

JJ gasps, lifting his head to look at Alt. His eyes are glowing—a blue core surrounded by red light. With the cuff's magic suppression deactivated, more and more magic splashes off, almost liquid in its movement. Every place the red droplets hit, they spread, becoming a thin layer of red ice. The temperature in the cell lowers enough that JJ's breath comes out in steam.

He staggers to his feet. Suddenly, it doesn't hurt anymore. He presses his hands to the window, red frost spreading from the point of contact and yet not blocking the spot where he's looking. He watches Alt... and his eyes flash with rage as more of the red consumes the blue. His head whips back over to the camera in the corner. Well—why not take this chance?! He throws a bolt of red magic at the camera.

Surprisingly, it connects, splashing over the device in a burst of light. Electricity flies from the camera, a crack forming in its side, and it starts to smoke. JJ grins triumphantly, an unusual malicious bite to his smile.

"What?!" Cornelius's voice says over the comms.

Alt's head snaps up to the sound of the camera breaking, still giggling a bit with black-ish tears falling from his eyes. "J...?" The cuffs- they aren't on..! Alt takes this moment to try to see if he can cut through his connection- but his magic isn't responding to him like he wants it to. Trying to use his magic only makes his core burn and this- madness infesting him go faster. He laughs again a bit of pain in the sound but tries to curl up, twitching and digging fingers into his hair. "JJ-! ah-! t-try to g-get out...!" Alt cackles loudly, trying to fight against the force eating at his core.

"Hero! Don't let them escape!" Dr. Cornelius orders. Bro's eyes burn with blue and he stands more at attention, watching the cells carefully.

JJ's grin widens. The cuffs aren't on? How foolish. How utterly, utterly foolish.

He can't teleport while connected to something—he tried that before, last time he was stuck somewhere like this place. So he sends a spray of sharp magic at the tether, cutting through it. And the moment he's free, he teleports outside.

Bro instantly locks onto JJ as he teleports out the cell and quickly tries to tackle him down.

JJ laughs and teleports again, avoiding Bro's attack. He sends another spray of red magic out, a wide fan that can both hit Bro and the window of Schneep's cell behind him.

The magic scratches against the window but it doesn't break.

It also hits Bro but he doesn't stop in his stride, going to  punch JJ in the face. Bro's fist slams against JJ's face with such force that it knocks him to the ground, stunned for a moment. But he gets up surprisingly quickly, and spits something into his hand. A tooth in a puddle of blood. He puts the tooth in his pocket and grins at Bro, eyes glowing red, blood rimming his gums. This is fun. He hears whispers at the edge of consciousness, urging him to keep going.

He lunges forward, cold red magic trailing behind him, and swipes at Bro's chest with translucent red talons.

Alt tries to stagger to his feet. Chase and JJ are fighting... he needs to help he needs to- destroykillmaimchaoschaoschaos- Alt yells out in pain and grips at his head, twitching and glitching as magic builds up stronger around him. I-It's so hard to fight it-! He doesn't want to hurt the others though...!

JJ teleports again, suddenly behind Bro. Red magic wraps around Bro's neck like a rope, and JJ grabs either end and pulls. If he can get Bro out of the way, SCLERA can't use them! He'll take away their weapon! That's what they get for hurting him and his friends!

"Wh-what is happening out there?!" Schneep gasps. He's managed to push through the brightness to pay attention to the outside—and he can feel a stark difference in JJ and Alt's souls.

Bro chokes, eyes wide, as he scrambles to find a way to get the magic to let go.

"NO!" Alt shouts and in a burst of purple glitches- he's outside the cell too. He attempts to grab JJ and pull him away from Bro as purple lightning crackles loudly around his body.

Bro slumps to the ground, coughing and heaving. Trying to catch his breath. He seems to have a bit more clarity in his eyes.

JJ gasps as Alt pulls him back. He twists around and looks at him in anger. "Don't you understand?!" he shouts, rough voice breaking. He laughs a little. "Do you hear them too, Alt?"

Alt slams JJ back into one of the walls, giggling madly as his eyes fill with corrupted magic. "I do- I-I feel it- I hear it!" He digs nails tight into JJ's shoulders, momentarily enjoying the idea of bringing him pain. His eye twitches and he tries to tell JJ through a twisted grin, "W-We c-can't listen...! We g-gotta try to fight JJ-!"

Then, in a glitch his eyes darken and a more sinister smile curls on his lips. "... then again... " He laughs manically and presses closer to JJ, "what color do you think we bleed now?! I... I- I wanna know!" He throws JJ to the floor and staggers back, giggling wildly. "E-Everything is purple...! Everything is dark-! Has it dyed me inside?! Has it dyed you?!" He keeps laughing- laughing laughing laughing-

"Alt?! Jamie?!" Schneep rushes up to the window, banging his fist on it. "Snap out of it!"

JJ doesn't react to Alt throwing him around—it doesn't really hurt all that much, or at the very least, the pain feels distant. Once Alt throws him down, he staggers to his feet again. "Do you want to see?" he whispers hoarsely. "Allow me to help!" A red crystalline knife appears in his hand and he slashes at Alt.

Alt staggers back and manages to whip out his own purple tinted knife to catch Jamie's. He grins wide and giggles, pushing back against JJ's knife. "I'll find out myself!" He cackles and tries to push JJ back and slash at him. JJ jumps back, avoiding the slash. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he grins with manic excitement. He lunges back forward, his knife glowing brighter as he aims to stab Alt's shoulder. Alt glitches out of the way, laughing crazily. He flips the knife in his hand is about to try to strike again when-

Sudden loud alarms start blaring, bathing the hallway in red light.

Alt screeches and immediately goes to cover his ears, curling up against the noise. "N-NO!"

JJ looks at the alarms in surprise, and then back down at Alt. Well—it's not fun if they're not both participating. He instead rushes to the nearest cell—Schneep's—and sends a ball of magic at it.

The magic rocks the window a bit but, it still manages to stay sturdy.

Bro blinks spots out of his eyes, trying to focus. There's... so much noise. What's happening?  "...Alt...? J?" He whispers hoarsely, trying to push himself up.

Alt gasps and claws at the sides of his face like it will get rid of the noise. "S-Stop it...! Stop it!"

Soon enough, jets pop out from the bottom of the hallway and start to spray that same sweet smelling smoke that Overdose used to knock them out earlier.

Schneep perks up at the sound of the jets. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" He gets up and rushes towards the window, pounding on it in the vain hope that he'll be able to break through after the damage JJ did. Meanwhile, Jackie's barely able to lift his head to look at the smoke filling outside.

JJ staggers back, looking at the smoke. He quickly covers his mouth and nose with his shirt and starts blasting the jets with magic. The jets are easily destroyed, but the blasts are sending magic up into the air and swirling it faster and faster around the boys in the hallway.  

Bro is too disoriented to try to fight- but he sees Alt struggling and tries to reach out.

Alt curls up smaller and smaller, purple eyes darting around in panic. Then, it morphs into anger as purple fully takes over his eyes. "I said- STOP IT." He throws himself forward and finds the nearest spark of electricity he can feel- and then channels all his magic into overloading the system. The lights flicker and the alarm cuts off. The lights don't go completely out though- just dim. but any remaining monitors and cuffs start to short circuit. In fact, they burst so massively in Jackie’s cell the window cracks and then shatters. After this, Alt pries himself away from the wall and staggers back before he collapses onto his back, dazedly blinking out at the thinning fog. But it's quiet...

Schneep can feel access to his powers again.

Schneep leaps out into the hallway, grabbing JJ and shaking him. "Fucking stop!"

JJ staggers back, staring at Schneep with wide eyes. They're still glowing, but that core of blue is back, peeking through the red. His body shakes suddenly as he suddenly feels sick.

"Alt! Bro!" Schneep leaps to a spot between the two of them, quickly checking both their pulses and breath. "Jackie! Help!"

Bro jumps as Schneep appears but gets a more wakeful look in his eyes. "S-Schneep-!" He tries to stagger up and grab Alt, "Alt? Alt?  Can you hear us?"

Alt blinks sluggishly and looks at Bro blankly, the purple fading from his eyes. His sclera is still black but he smiles. "C-Chase...?"

Jackie pushes himself up, breathing heavily. His scars are still glowing slightly, but the burning sensation is fading. He gets up, gritting his teeth, and staggers over.

But... there's an odd feeling coming from the hallway now... a crack in the ground, dark black, pulling at the boys in the hallway's clothes.

"Do... do you f-feel that?" Jackie asks. 

Schneep pauses. His eyes widen. "No. No, it cannot be."

Both Bro and Alt stiffen as they hear the others and looks towards the crack as it expands, the wind picking up more.

Dr. Cornelius can be heard brokenly through the damaged comms, "No--! The-- readings-- be-- rifts-!" Then, it fizzles out into static.

"Rifts?" Schneep looks towards the sound of the comms. "They know about the rifts?"

"Of course they do, if they knew we were from other worlds!" Jackie says.

Bro looks guilty, “I-I told them about them…” he mutters.

Alt gasps and tries to scramble away on instinct then looks at Bro with panic as he sees the wind affecting both of them, "I-It's pulling us in too?!"

"I-I guess so?" Bro answers in a panic. He looks towards the others and then reaches out a hand, "M-Maybe if we all stick together- it won't separate us into f-freaky timelines and shit! Maybe it'll take us to one of your homes!"

JJ nods and grabs onto Bro's hand, not saying anything in response. The red is quickly fading from the magic that flutters around his fingers.

"I guess anywhere is better than here!" Jackie grabs onto JJ in turn, holding onto his arm with one hand. His other grabs onto Schneep's wrist.

Alt narrows his eyes and then looks at the rift. “J-Jackie is right- anywhere is better than being stuck here!”

Schneep doesn't protest. "That makes sense to me—We better stick together, yes? Safety in numbers."

Bro nods in determination to Schneep, “We will.”

Alt sticks his middle finger up towards the ceiling, “Fuck you!”

The rift gets bigger and bigger and soon enough, is big enough that Alt gets pulled in- followed by the rest of the group. Down down down into rushing pitch black night… the sounds of that awful lab fading away.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hi cas, turnip anon here, this might be a long one

Firstly, I think I’m going to start using she/they pronouns, mainly online, I don’t really feel like putting them to use in person, not yet. And I do think I am a demigirl. And I like that label, I think it works well for me

So, that’s that update. But I’m actually more here to vent, if you don’t mind

About 2 years ago I stopped going to school. I was severely depressed, and the effort of getting into school was causing panic attacks upon panic attacks, it was awful. This pretty much happened for a year, where I would be going into school about once every 2 weeks, and when I did go in, I didn’t go to any lessons. I was put on a school avoidance plan, thingy idk what it was tbh. But I had goals to go in 3 times a week for an hour. It didn’t work, nothing worked, so May 2023, I snapped one morning and I told my mum that I couldn’t do it anymore, and she pulled me out of school to start being homeschooled.

It was a big change, and I struggled with it. I always struggled taking work home, like with homework. To me, school was where you learn, and home was where you didn’t. So having my home also being my place of education was difficult. I didn’t end up doing much. I enrolled in this learning centre in my town, and I took a maths course so I was doing something, it just wasn’t much. I hated it there, there was no communication between the teachers and you were placed in front of a computer and told to work for 3 hours straight. Addition to that, the man in charge of the maths course made me very uncomfortable. He often singled me out and spoke to me a lot more than the other people there. I did not enjoy being there. Twas bad

A couple months ago I finished the maths course there, and I took the final test and got a score of i dont even know what, I don’t understand the grading system.

So, this was kinda background information, like I said, this might be a long one

During the 2 years of struggling with school and then being homeschooled, I have been very isolated. I live in a small town away from all of my friends, my older sister is at university, and the town I live in is not the kind of town you meet people in my age range. So for about 2 years, I have been very alone.

I never really liked interacting with people, I still don’t, but I miss having people around me. I miss my sister, she lives just under 2 hours away so I don’t see her too often. I visit her, and sometimes I stay with her and her friends (who are amazing), and those times when I’m there are my favourite because I’m with people I like. Her friends really are amazing, one of her friends, ‘insert friends name’, is autistic like me so when we’re together we just tism about our special interests and hyperfixations. It’s great.

But I miss my 2 friends at school, we hardly talk anymore, and when we do, conversation doesn’t seem to flow easily because we haven’t seen eachother in ages. I hardly know them anymore. I’ve been lying to myself, saying that it’s fine, that I’m fine, but I snapped today. Finally, it was long overdue. But today was prom. I didn’t know, I went on Instagram and saw posts from other people that were in my year group all dressed up saying ‘prom 2024!’ And then I saw one of my friends post and she looked incredible, like really amazing. But I wasn’t there, and I didn’t know, and I missed out. And I have missed out so much and I’m never going to have any of this opportunity again and I feel like I’ve wasted 2 years of my life alone in my bedroom doing absolutely fuck all

I’ve been crying nearly all day, I’ve never been happier to be home alone.

I am so lonely. I don’t feel like I have any friends anymore. My childhood best friend lives 3 hours away, we never message, and we are very different people. We have nothing in common, and I know I shouldn’t but I’m starting to hold it against her. When I do visit her she spends so much of our time together on her phone messaging her other friends or her boyfriend, and it’s so difficult to be around her.

I have nobody to talk to. Nobody talks to me. And I am miserable

I’m going to this college in September, but it is tiny. And I mean, three people in a class. That kind of tiny. I was going to go to this other place but that’s a whole other story and I feel like if I get into that, this will go on for pages.

But, the other place was pretty big. There were a lot of people going there, and then I didn’t get in, and I was really upset. I was looking forward to being in a big environment with lots of people around me. I would of been able to hide away but not be alone. There would of been more opportunities. But I’m not going there, I’m going to some other place. And, okay, it is a nice place, and it seems like, on an educational level, it will be good for me. I know this. But how am I supposed to hide away when it’s one of those places where everyone knows everyone. I know I wanted human interaction, but not that much. My plan for the other place was to hide away and maybe make one friend. I WONT BE ABLE TO DO THAT THERE everything that I had planned for just went bye bye and flew out the window

I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore but I am not okay, I am struggling

I miss my friends, I missed the prom, I didn’t even know about the prom, I miss my sister, I’ve wasted my life, I have zero skills, I have no hobbies and I’m a pathetic waste of space. And nobody cares because nobody knows because nobody asks because nobody is here because I am so alone

And I really wish I wasn’t

Woah, woah, woah, take a deep breath!

Your last paragraph: None of it is true! Listen, I went through something similar in high school- panic attacks, missing a lot of school, feeling removed from my friends, all of that. I was even schooled online for a while.

Here's the thing- I know how you feel. There are certain things that I missed during the time I went to school online, and it made me upset. But the good news is, your life isn't over. You haven't wasted anything. You don't have zero skills and people DO care (I promise. I care).

Just because your high school experience was different doesn't mean you did it wrong. And just because it was different doesn't mean you ruined your life.

You will ALWAYS have more opportunities. Will they be exactly the same ones? Probably not. But they will be just as exciting, just as fulfilling, and just as wonderful.

So now, I think you have a chance to really work on this before college. Try to find a therapist and some coping mechanisms, that way when you get to college, you're ready to take advantage of every opportunity available! Because trust me, everyone outside of high school will tell you: it's not the highlight of your life, whether you go to prom or not. The best parts are still to come <3

If you ever need to talk, I'm here, okay!

[looniecartooni]

Son: A BBU Fan Story

Prologue:

Clack clack clack!

The excited hoof-steps came down the stairs of the theater work shop. Wood shavings littered the floor, separated by pieces yet to be used for this next experiment. It had never felt as scared or anxious as it was feeling now. There was also rush of excitement as it placed it's treasure next to the husk of the tiny marionette.

His thoughts rang, "You've waited so long for this. You've seen what it's capable of. Quit stalling and get it done." He took a deep breath and hovered the gem over the wooden doll's chest. So far- nothing. It could make the doll rise and fall, perhaps lift its arm and wave. But he might as well have just put strings on the thing if he wanted it to do that. Oh- how the papers would love to hear about that. Wannabe Hero talks to a puppet on his spare time: Thinks it is alive.

"No. This has to work. It has to work with this kind of wood."

Then the thoughts chimed in, "What if they hate me? What if I don't know what I'm doing? What if I do know what I am doing and I don't know how to handle this?!" It hated these thoughts.

Thankfully, he had a new thought. "What if I put the gem in the puppet? Make it act like a heart." But the other thoughts rebutted, "No no no- there's no way. There's no room to put it there!" Why won't his inner thoughts let him have any fun?

Instead of debating with itself, it decided it was high time he tested out his idea. But for that, he needed to carve into the project he spent so long making. So much trial and error. So many failed attempts. So many things gone up in flames. But he had the gem. "The gem has to work," he thought.

And he fitted the gem best he could into the marionette's chest. The tiny, single-bucked tooth mouth appeared to be smiling back at him. He smiled back- hoping it would continue to be this happy with him, even in desperate times. But he knew that there would never be a desperate time. He was Dimitri after all- the greatest hero this town will ever see. And no longer would he be lonely once he had his grateful little fan by his side.

He began his ritual- one that had failed him more times than most. But before he was finished with the first couple lines of the spell he found for something like this, he felt a large surge of energy leave his body and proceed to be sucked within the gem. Panic rushed through his body as the puppet began to rise and glow. "Oh no- its going to explode again!!!" screamed the thoughts! No... Dimitri wasn't ready to fail again- not at this.

He thought, "I lost so many things! I tried so hard. I can't let this fail as well! I can't lose-"

A sudden blast of magic erupted from the gem and shook the entire theater to its core. The shake could be felt from miles away, causing citizens to panic. The chimera quivered under the table it had tried to use to shelter itself. As it's eyesight returned to normal, it was shocked to find that, despite being in complete disarray, the workshop did not catch fire. And he was indeed still alive. And faintly through ringing ear drums, he thought he heard a baby crying.

It must have been at a distance as there shouldn't have been a baby at theater. Not at this hour at least. Oh, what a terrible time for the call of a hero to ask for his aid! But the crying grew louder as the ringing grew quieter. Dimitri scanned the room around before his tail had spotted where the crying was coming from. The little marionette with one tooth in the center had finally been animated to life, and it laid helplessly on the floor, crying for the aid of its creator.

The chimera picked it up as gently as it possibly could, fearing that perhaps it too sustained damage. He wasn't expecting the marionette to be this young of an infant. He wasn't sure about how he was going to balance being a hero with caring for a literal baby. But as the yellow eyes slowly opened and met his own, he couldn't help but smile. And he hugged the little infant closer to him. And it slowly stopped crying. He finally had someone to care about now. And his name was going to be...