#he just needs help getting organized enough to use them effectively

[randomly--accessed--memories]

Since Alastor doesn't want to spend time with Vox, the hotel probably throws Vox to Pentious, so he will be his problem. He would be like, " Now I need to baby prof not just for my eggs but also taller people :{ "

In the end, he could be able to help a little (when you bother teaching the person what to do[cough cough Alastor is a bad teacher cough ])

Vox is actually able to interact with the Egg Bois pretty well; he’s not clumsy in most respects, his electricity is just super volatile. As long as he doesn’t turn up the heat too much, he can’t really hurt them (they’re raygun resistant, after all), which is a nice change of pace for him. Doesn’t mean there aren’t still some incidents, but regardless.

Yeah, Pentious is really good for Vox. He’s willing to be patient with him due to the respect he has for (ex-)overlords and the fact that keeping an eye on him/potentially rescuing him was the whole reason he was sent to the hotel in the first place. Vox’s retention may not be great, but if you can keep him calm and on task, he’s actually pretty decent at his job— it just takes some wrangling. It’s convenient that Pen doesn’t have any particular responsibilities at the hotel unlike a lot of the other residents, so he can basically help Vox full-time. It’s with Pen’s help that Vox goes from constantly frying things to only doing so in moments of high emotion or if he spends too much time on/in something.

[ketchuppee]

During the 2008 recession, my aunt lost her job. Her, her partner, and my three cousins moved across the country to stay with us while they got back on their feet. My house turned from a family of four to a family of nine overnight, complete with three dogs and five cats between us.

It took a few years for them to get a place of their own, but after a few rentals and apartments, they now own a split level ranch in a town nearby. I’ve lost track of how many coworkers and friends have stayed with them when they were in a tight spot. A mother and son getting out of an abusive relationship, a divorcee trying to stay local for his kids while they work out a custody agreement, you name it. My aunt and uncle knew first hand what that kindness meant, and always find space for someone who needed it, the way my parents had for them.

That same aunt and uncle visited me in [redacted] city last year. They are prolific drinkers, so we spent most of the day bar hopping. As we wandered the city, any time we passed a homeless person, my uncle would pull out a fresh cigarette and ask them if they had a light. Regardless of if they had a lighter on hand or not, he offered them a few bucks in exchange, which he explained to me after was because he felt it would be easier for them to accept in exchange for a service, no matter how small.

I work for a company that produces a lot of fabric waste. Every few weeks, I bring two big black trash bags full of discarded material over to a woman who works down the hall. She distributes them to local churches, quilting clubs, and teachers who can use them for crafts. She’s currently in the process of working with our building to set up a recycling program for the smaller pieces of fabric that are harder to find use for.

One of my best friends gives monthly donations to four or five local organizations. She’s fortunate enough to have a tech job that gives her a good salary, and she knows that a recurring donation is more valuable to a non-profit because they can rely on that money month after month, and can plan ways to stretch that dollar for maximum impact. One of those organizations is a native plant trust, and once she’s out of her apartment complex and in a home with a yard, she has plans to convert it into a haven of local flora.

My partner works for a company that is working to help regulate crypto and hold the current bad actors in the space accountable for their actions. We unfortunately live in a time where technology develops far too fast for bureaucracy to keep up with, but just because people use a technology for ill gain doesn’t mean the technology itself is bad. The blockchain is something that she finds fascinating and powerful, and she is using her degree and her expertise to turn it into a tool for good.

I knew someone who always had a bag of treats in their purse, on the odd chance they came across a stray cat or dog, they had something to offer them.

I follow artists who post about every local election they know of, because they know their platform gives them more reach than the average person, and that they can leverage that platform to encourage people to vote in elections that get less attention, but in many ways have more impact on the direction our country is going to go.

All of this to say, there’s more than one way to do good in the world. Social media leads us to believe that the loudest, the most vocal, the most prolific poster is the most virtuous, but they are only a piece of the puzzle. (And if virtue for virtues sake is your end goal, you’ve already lost, but that’s a different post). Community is built of people leveraging their privileges to help those without them. We need people doing all of those things and more, because no individual can or should do all of it. You would be stretched too thin, your efforts valiant, but less effective in your ambition.

None of this is to encourage inaction. Identify your unique strengths, skills, and privileges, and put them to use. Determine what causes are important to you, and commit to doing what you can to help them. Collective action is how change is made, but don’t forget that we need diversity in actions taken.

[getvalentined]

An open letter to @staff

I already submitted this to Support under "Feedback," but I'm sharing it here too as I don't expect it to get a response, and I feel like putting in out in public may be more effective than sending it off into the void.

The recent post on the Staff blog about changing tumblr to an algorithmic feed features a large amount of misinformation that I feel staff needs to address, openly and honestly, with information on where this data was sourced at the very least.

Claim 1: Algorithms help small creators.

This is false, as algorithms are designed to push content that gets engagement in order to get it more engagement, thereby assuring that the popular remain popular and the small remain small except in instances of extreme luck.

This can already be seen on the tumblr radar, which is a combination of staff picks (usually the same half-dozen fandoms or niche special interests like Lego photography) which already have a ton of engagement, or posts that are getting enough engagement to hit the radar organically. Tumblr has an algorithm that runs like every other socmed algorithm on the planet, and it will decimate the reach of small creators just like every other platform before it.

Claim 2: Only a small portion of users utilize the chronological feed.

You can find a poll by user @darkwood-sleddog here that at the time of writing this, sits at over 40 THOUSAND responses showing that over 96 percent of them use the chronological feed*. Claiming otherwise isn't just a misstatement, it's a lie. You are lying to your core userbase and expecting them to accept it as fact. It's not just unethical, it's insulting to people who have been supporting your platform for over a decade.

Claim 3: Tumblr is not easy to use.

This is also 100% false and you ABSOLUTELY know it. Tumblr is EXTREMELY easy to use, the issue is that the documentation, the explanations of features, and often even the stability of the service is subpar. All of this would be very easy for staff to fix, if they would invest in the creation of walkthroughs and clear explanations of how various site features work, as well as finally fixing the search function. Your inability to explain how your service works should not result in completely ignoring the needs and wants of your core long-term userbase. The fact that you're more willing to invest in the very systems that have made every other form of social media so horrifically toxic than in trying to make it easier for people to use the service AS IT WORKS NOW and fixing the parts that don't work as well speaks volumes toward what tumblr staff actually cares about.

You will not get a paycheck if your platform becomes defunct, and the thing that makes it special right now is that it is the ONLY large-scale socmed platform on THE ENTIRE INTERNET with a true chronological feed and no aggressive algorithmic content serving. The recent post from staff indicates that you are going to kill that, and are insisting that it's what we want. It is not. I'd hazard to guess that most of the dev team knows it isn't what we want, but I assume the money people don't care. The user base isn't relevant, just how much money they can bring in.

The CEO stated he wanted this to remain as sort of the last bastion of the Old Internet, and yet here we are, watching you declare you intend to burn it to the ground.

You can do so much better than this.

Response to the Update

Under the cut for readability, because everything said above still applies.

I already said this in a reblog on the post itself, but I'm adding it to this one for easy access: people read it that way because that's what you said.

Staff considers the main feed as it exists to be "outdated," to the point that you literally used that word to describe it, and the main goals expressed in this announcement is to figure out what makes "high-quality content" and serve that to users moving forward.

People read it that way because that is what you said.

*The final results of the poll, after 24 hours:

136,635 votes breaks down thusly:

An algorithm based feed where I get "the best of tumblr." @ 1.3% (roughly 1,776 votes)

Chronological feed that only features blogs I follow. @ 95.2% (roughly 130,077 votes)

This doesn't affect me personally. @ 3.5% (roughly 4,782 votes)

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) How He Is with His Newborn Baby

Hunter: He adores them and spends a lot of time holding them. Hunter is also really big on the whole skin-to-skin contact, so it becomes a common thing to see him walking around shirtless with the baby cradled snugly in one arm. He gets pretty good at performing tasks around the home with the baby. He's enraptured by the little one, but also very attentive to your needs. Hunter makes sure you take the time you need to eat, shower, and just have time to relax every now and then. Literally, any excuse to hold them some more, and he's giving it. He is good at rocking the baby in such a way that they fall asleep instantly in his arms.

Wrecker: The baby has him wrapped around their tiny finger already. He's already telling them how much he loves them and how proud he is. Wrecker also just spends time telling them all the fun things they're going to do together when they're old enough to walk, talk, etc. He is so unbelievably gentle and sweet with the little one in general, and also of course with you. He'll randomly stare at you and tell you how beautiful you are and what a good job you're doing.

Tech: This baby is not at the point where they can retain any information yet, but Tech spends plenty of time just talking to them. He talks about anything his mind can conjure up. The baby becomes so accustomed to the sound of his voice that it has quite the soothing effect. Additionally, Tech is very quick to pick up on the baby's cycle of needs. It gets to the point where they cry, and he can glance at his chrono and pinpoint exactly what they need according to the little schedule he's created. He also regularly checks the baby's weight, vitals, to make sure they're in good health. From time to time he voices yet again how fascinating the miracle of birth is and how proud he is of you, also checking your health.

Echo: Spends the first few weeks only holding the baby when sitting down. He can't get over how fragile they are, and he just sits there and stares at them as long as he can in amazement and adoration before they wake up from their nap or fuss about something they need. When the baby bursts into a fit of wails, he goes into a bit of a panic mode worrying about what's wrong. Eventually, he gets more comfortable and gets used to the idea that the baby is just communicating a need. It doesn't take long for him to become a professional dad. He gets pretty organized with the diaper bag and supplies so that he can just pull out whatever the baby needs at the drop of a hat.

Crosshair: He spends a good while just quietly holding the baby in his arms and watching them. Internally, he thinks they're absolutely precious and realizes he loves them so much. He already knew he'd love them, but he didn't realize it would feel like this. The baby is heart-wrenchingly cute, and he'd do anything to protect them. You come to find that he becomes more vocal, telling the baby in a sort of Crosshair-style sarcasm that they need to get their act together every time he has to handle a diaper change, feeding, etc. He's up with you at any hour day or night to help with the baby without a complaint, and regularly makes sure you're taking care of yourself also.

[kellysue]

The Suit-Making Metaphor

[Written in January, 2024] The cold eventually got bad enough that the Grandma, the kids and I fled to a hotel while Matt stayed at the house with the dogs. We were fortunate to be able to that of course, and sharing a room in a nice warm hotel was not suffering by any stretch of the imagination. Even so, it was stressful. We brought ipads, paints, books and needlework to keep the kids entertained and alleviate some anxiety, but time also had to be made for school work—especially as they would be going back to class just in time for finals. We made lists of their classes, what they had to study, what we could help with and what questions would need to be put to their teachers.

Henry’s 16 now (!!) and instead of an exam, his Humanities final was a personal essay. We chatted a bit about his writing process, what he liked about what he had done so far and what was frustrating for him. Though he had a terrific topic, he’d written and rewritten his opening paragraph several times and wasn’t making any real progress.

Been there, buddy.

As we talked, I stumbled on a metaphor that I found helpful, and so I’m going to try and share with you roughly what I said to him, and perhaps some of you will find it helpful too.

I get it, I do. It’s exactly my inclination as well. But writing like this-- where you try to perfect everything as you go, effectively writing the third draft before you finish the first--it’s like trying to make a suit from the top to the bottom. You can’t make a suit like that. You can’t start with the collar and get that perfected and then move to the shoulder. You can’t topstitch the upper part of the button placket before the bottom even exists. And even if you could figure how to do it that way, your suit isn't going to fit. Because that’s just not the best way to make a suit. Finishing the thing from top to bottom is not the best way to write, either. You start by choosing your fabric—your topic. What material are you going to craft the suit from? What’s the subject of the essay? You want to write about your relationship to various monsters. That’s terrific! That’s like a nice wool; there’s heft there—memories and feelings and personal details that resonate as truths; it should make a rich and interesting suit. Now, instead of cutting out the collar immediately, let’s choose a pattern. We need a pattern to help us cut the wool into the proper shapes. The pattern is the very basic structure of your essay. How might you organize your thoughts and feelings about monsters? The order isn’t as important as the categories. For the suit jacket, we’ll need right front, left front, sleeves, collar, lining etc. For the essay, what monsters do you want to write about? King Kong, the Rancor, the Minotaur and Bernard the Bull. Perfect. Cutting the pattern pieces out is equivalent to gathering your thoughts on each monster. Write freely about each one, taking the time to remember in as much detail as possible where you first encountered each monster, how old you were, etc. Go through each of your senses to help you recall the moment. What did you see? Smell? Taste? Feel? Who was with you? How did you feel in your body? How did you feel in your heart? Include everything that jumps out at you, you can always edit it down later. In our metaphor, this step is not just cutting out the pieces but also taking the time to transfer the pattern marks. You might not need them all, but you're sure to make a finer suit if you have them all available. Once you have the pieces, the next step is to see how they fit together. Read through each monster and look for connections. Is there an order that suggests itself? Rearrange and then edit and expand to highlight those connections. The first pass of this is basting stitches—loose connections just to test the fit—once you’re happy with the shape you can go ahead and lay in seams. Here is where our parallels start to fall apart: For the suit, you’ll want to do all the finishing touches—the handstitching, buttons, pressing, etc.—and then try it on and style it. But in writing your essay, these steps are reversed—styling is crafting the last paragraph, bringing the piece to a close. Your essay doesn’t have to wrap up neatly, in fact, you don’t want it to be too matchy-matchy. Just as an outfit’s style is improved by personal idiosyncrasies, a piece of writing is enriched by the author's capacity to engage with complexity and ambiguity. With the styling done--when you really know what it is you're trying to say--now you can go back with needle and thread and do that hand-stitching: tighten the prose where you can, polish rhythms, word choice, grammar and voice. With the whole of the thing in front of you, you now have what you need to do the kind of “third draft” finishing work that was impossible to begin with.

This might be the very definition of beating a metaphor to death, but I surprised myself with it. It was as revelatory for me as it was for Henry--probably more so.

And with that, I need to get back to those now-422 emails.

Cheers,

Kelly Sue

PS New creator-owned book coming out late fall this year--first launch in a decade or so, I think? I do need to figure out this whole newsletter/blog conundrum sooner rather than later. Advice and opinions welcome.

[athforskz]

Third Times the Charm - Lee Minho

Masterlist

type: strangers to lovers, college au, slow burn

pairing: tutor!Minho x afab!reader

wc: ~4.7k + 4 text ss

warnings: unbalanced power dynamic, themes of coercion, strong language, mention of failing academia, use of pet names, crying, dacryphilia, light touching, suggestive, reader is kinda tsundere, Minho is lowkey down bad for reader. MDNI.

a/n: there might be a part 2 for this one.

Enjoy lovelies!

“Alright, attempt number three. Here goes nothing,” you sighed heavily while taking your seat in the overcrowded lecture hall. This was your fourth semester in University and out of those four semesters, three of them were spent in your personal hell hole: organic chemistry. The first time you took this class, you had failed it, plain and simple. The second time you took it, your grade was passing, but barely. Definitely not enough to be accredited for the degree you wanted. Thus, you were back in the damned class once again to at least get a grade that wouldn’t tank your GPA. If you didn’t, then you could kiss that shiny degree goodbye.

The class was mainly filled by first or second semester students. They still looked young and ambitious. There were only a few students that were from your semester, and those that looked older were more than likely teaching assistants. While observing your peers, the professor waltzed in; the loud slam of her bag echoed throughout the lecture hall, effectively quieting the students.

“Okay everyone, time to settle down!” The professor’s voice was loud, authoritative even as she surveyed her new brood of students with sharp eyes. Yes, you’ve taken this class twice before, but never have you seen her teach it. Maybe she was new to the university? Most of the class was filled with going over housekeeping topics, such as the syllabus, laboratory requirements, and expectations for the upcoming semester. You tuned most of it out with having been through this same song and dance numerous times before for all classes. You huffed with your chin resting in the palm of your hand as you doodled mindlessly in your notebook, maybe decorating it would motivate you to study more.

You looked at the time on your phone and saw that it was about 10 minutes before the end of the lecture. You started packing your notebook and pen away just as your professor exclaimed something that caught your attention, “And please don’t forget to use your teaching assistants to your advantage. They are here to help you! Seek them out when you have questions or need someone to study with. I’m sure the TA’s will have no issue in aiding you on your journey through this course. Matter of fact, they will come up to introduce themselves to everyone!”

The few teaching assistants or ‘TA’s’ as your professor dubbed them seemed to look a little frazzled, well all except for one. He didn’t look like he was paying attention at all. One by one each assistant introduced themselves to the class. A couple of them were nervous, rightfully so, it takes a lot of guts to speak in front of a mini auditorium full of students. “Good morning, all! My name is Yeji; I am a graduate student here at the University. Chemistry is my passion, and I will be more than happy to help anyone that needs it. Please, let’s all have a good semester and finish strong!” The woman seemed so happy. You made a mental note to approach the bubbly one that deemed herself, Yeji, so you could make a study group with her. She spoke about the subject with ease and had such a warm confident aura about her. Yeah, she’d definitely be the key you needed to ace the course this time.

The last guy to go was the one that looked less than thrilled to be here, he stalked up to the podium before letting out a loud sigh. “I’m Minho, please hesitat- er.. don’t hesitate to reach out with any problems you may have.” He smirked at the end of his very brief introduction, if you could even call it that.

Was that supposed to be funny?

Even with that horrible introduction you couldn’t deny the man was attractive. Eventually, the end of the class came, and you quickly picked up your bag before the rush of other dismissing students carelessly kicked your things aside. You made your way down to the front of the lecture hall to hopefully introduce yourself to Yeji. It’d be better to formulate a study schedule with her now rather than later. You tried to push through the crowd that didn’t seem to be moving only to find out that the remaining crowd was packed around the TA you needed to speak with. It seemed as if you weren’t the only one that was drawn to her vibrant personality. You had a bit before you needed to get to your next class, so you decided to wait for the crowd to filter out.

Another 15 minutes pass and you can finally get the attention of your desired TA. “Hey! Yeji, right?” She nodded with a bright smile, “my name is Y/n, it’s nice to meet you! When do you think we could meet up for regular steady sessions? I’m free most days after 5pm.” You were being sweet and straight to the point, not wanting to waste time. Her face fell, “Oh, I’m so sorry. All of my sessions have filled up so quickly and I’m not able to offer one-on-ones with my schedule. Maybe one of the other assistants can help you.” She was still so polite, even when letting you down gently. You shook your head with a forced smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes. “It’s okay! I’m sure I can find help with another. Thank you though.” Yeji offered a half bow before making her way out of the classroom. The other two teaching assistants were long gone by now and they probably didn’t have room nor time to individually help you either. “Fuck… now what am I gonna do?” You whined while smacking your forehead.

“I can help you.”

You whipped your head around to the mysterious voice coming from behind you. It was the last TA that introduced himself. You’d already forgotten his name, and that he was even an option for that matter. “No that’s okay. I don’t want to inconvenience you or anything,” you tried to convince him. He took a few steps closer, even the way he walked was nonchalant, then he looked at you up and down slowly with his eyes as if analyzing you. His gaze was making you feel hot, but you couldn’t let him know that his stare was causing something to stir within you. “Seriously, it’s not an inconvenience. To be honest, I probably have the most free time out of all the others.”

Gee, wonder why that is? Maybe because you don’t take things seriously.

“So..?” He further inquired, waiting for your final answer. You raised a brow as if actually debating. “How about we just exchange numbers, and you can reach out if you change your mind,” he pulled his phone out from his hoodie pocket then handed it to you. “Isn’t it more formal to exchange university emails?” You asked while taking the phone from his hand to enter your number. He shrugged with the ghost of a smile on his face, “possibly, but looks like you don’t mind.”

A snort left your nose after you sent a quick text to your phone so his number could be saved in the contact list. After returning his phone you waved him off without another word. Even if he was your type physically, you didn’t really see yourself ever messaging him for help. You only allowed the exchange to happen to avoid coming off as rude. Plus, you didn’t have any other excuse to blow off his gesture.

Another couple of days pass with nothing too eventful happening. The normal hullabaloo at the start of a new schedule not really affecting you anymore since it was the fourth go-round. However, today was the day the chem course had its laboratory portion. The labs weren’t as big as the lecture hall, the entire class was divided into three smaller groups. Along with doing experiments instead of taking notes, the professor was not in charge of the labs, the assistants were.

You had hoped Yeji would be the assistant for your particular lab. Upon strolling into the laboratory, your eyes were blessed with the sight of the vibrant woman. She waved at you with a smile before going to help another student. You watched her with bright eyes while lost in thought:

This will make things so much more bearable! Maybe I’ll even have the chance to ask her a few questions abou- Oh no… you can’t be serious.

Your lips turned down when you caught sight of his handsome features. The other TA that seemed to not take things seriously. He hadn’t seen you yet as he was busy drawing a rather odd face on the chalkboard. Once he finished his little doodle he labeled it ‘jerumi’ prior to nodding his head in satisfaction as if he were proud of his work.

You sighed with an eye roll before heading to your assigned workstation. You familiarize yourself with the equipment and introduce yourself to your lab partner. As you’re exchanging contact info for future project collaborations, you felt a presence looming over your shoulder. A yelp left your mouth, startled, as the man standing behind you looked down at the device in your hands. It was him, of course it was. You placed your phone down on the workbench to avoid your shaky hands from dropping it.

“Do you mind?” You took a step forward to put some distance between your bodies (even though you liked the brief closeness). “Just making sure you aren’t getting off topic. By the way, you haven’t asked me for help yet. We should probably talk about schedules, ya know?”

What in the world is he talking about?

The expression on your face let him know that you had no idea what he was referring to, “remember I’m supposed to be helping you study? I’ve been waiting on you to text me.” That’s right! You made it seem like you accepted his offer in him giving you study sessions. “Right, right! Totally forgot, so sorry about that. The start of a new semester just has me a little frazzled,” you recovered quickly and even punctuated the situation with a fake laugh. You were hoping by not reaching out he would get the hint and leave you be. Obviously, that wasn’t the case and now there’s no hope in just avoiding him since he’s one of the lab assistants. “How about we talk about this later? I’ll definitely remember to shoot ya a message,” you lied. You wouldn’t remember, or rather you flat out wouldn’t do it even if you did remember.

All he did was raise a brow. You chewed the inside of your cheeks, hoping he’d buy the suggestion. The man retrieved his own phone from a pants pocket and did something on the device. Soon your own cell vibrated where it was set. The ever inquisitive (and nosey) man peered at the lit screen, “you don’t even have my number saved.” You quickly snatched your phone and shoved it in your back pocket. “Uh I- I was just trying to think of a good way to save your contact!” you fibbed sheepishly. “Just save it as my name, simple.” He shrugged like his name was the best thing to ever grace a person’s ears which means you should remember, right?

“Riiiight…” you swallowed thickly, praying to whatever higher power that he didn’t ask if yo-

“You don’t remember my name, do you?”

Fuck!

“Of course I remember!” You said a little louder than you intended, now classmates were looking your way, even Yeji peaked over to make sure everything was fine. Your hands covered your cheeks trying to cool yourself down from embarrassment. “Then what’s my name? Go on, say it.” He had a smirk on his lips and a devilish glint in his eye. 

Was he teasing? And why does he look so damn good like that?

You kept your mouth shut and avoided his gaze. Moments of silence passed before you heard him scoff, “Figures you don’t remember. It’s Minho. But my friends call me Lee Know if that’s easier for you.” He spoke so fast that you didn’t quite catch what he said. “Lionel?” You repeated.

“No, Lee Know,” he said slower this time. If you weren’t still reeling from the prior embarrassment, you’d think this ‘Lee Know’ is making fun of you. You simply nodded your head to acknowledge you got his name memorized… you think.

Thoroughly satisfied with having checked on you, he went to the next pair of students to annoy help them. You breathed a sigh of relief that he finally left, and you carried on with your lab partner for the remainder of the period.

About a month has passed and the semester is in full swing. Everything had been going great in all classes, even chemistry. You hadn’t needed much help as it was just the basics and because you flat out refused to ask Lee Know for help anyway. You’ve even successfully avoided all of his attempts so far to talk to you after class or in lab. Part of it was because he was actually helping other students (when he wasn’t acting standoffish, nonchalant, or sarcastic). The other part had just been pure luck, or bad luck since you couldn’t stare at his cute face.

However, you didn’t catch how he was aware of your avoidance. Minho could tell in your body language that you rather not associate with him, but he couldn’t figure out why. Why were you so stubborn in accepting his help? Had he done or said something wrong? Couldn’t be that; he’s barely had a real conversation with you. Or maybe you picked up on how he looks at you or how his eyes go soft once he hears your voice. Minho’s heart rate would even increase whenever he got near you, albeit he hasn’t come close to you often, but that’s not the point. He was utterly infatuated at first sight and had to get close to you in some way and those study sessions were his best bet.

You had just made it back to your dorm when a ding echoed from your pocket. The already slumping bag fell off your shoulder and you kicked your shoes off without a care. Thankfully, you didn’t need to worry about being super organized because you got a dorm all to yourself this year. Your hand reached in to pull out your phone to see who had messaged you. Probably just a friend asking if you wanted to grab food later, but no, it wasn’t a friend. It was Minho.

A sigh fell from your lips as you read yet another message from the man. Damn was he persistent. He would occasionally send a message to see if you needed help, but you would always ignore it. You had never messaged him except for the one simple ‘hi’ when exchanging numbers.

Seriously, what’s it going to take for him to catch a hint?

Maybe, just maybe if you respond to him this time and say you don’t need a tutor then he’ll leave you be. The more direct approach oughtta do it.

Well, that’s definitely not what you were expecting. Now you had a so called ‘study date’ with him Friday evening. 

Was he being flirty or just overly friendly?

You could think of a million other things to do rather than spend your Friday night studying the subject that’s the bane of your existence with your way too persistent TA. Then again, maybe being locked in a room with him wasn’t a bad idea.

The end of the week came faster than expected, which was both a blessing and a curse. Yes, you were ready to be free from school for the weekend, but before that you had to make it through this study session with Minho.

It shouldn’t take long. I’ll just go in there and show him I know what I’m doing, then boom! Home free. What could possibly go wrong?

You made your way to the underground study rooms that were agreed upon as the meetup point. There was only one room marked as reserved, the rest of them open on account of it being Friday and other students having more fun things to do with the weekend at hand. You took a deep breath before pushing open the door. There sat Minho, his soft hair pushed back out of his face as he organized a few things on the wide tabletop. His focus making him effortlessly attractive. You looked up at the whiteboard on the wall to see a slew of organic chemistry reactions that seemed unfinished. Is this what he wanted you to do today?

Minho looked up from his spot and greeted you with a toothy grin, “Y/n, you actually came!”

Why was he so happy? Did he take his position as teaching assistant seriously for once? He’s so much cuter when he smiles.

“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it for the world..” you trailed off with sarcasm in your tone. You sat opposite him at the table, slinging your backpack onto the ground and taking out your notes. Minho got up from his seat and made his way around to you. You didn’t pay attention to him at first as you were focused on finding a certain section in your notes. Right as you found the page you needed, Minho slammed his hand on the notebook and closed it. “Hey! Why’d you do that?!”

“You said you already knew everything that would be on the exam. So, you shouldn’t need this right?” He waved the journal just above your reach then tossed it to the other side of the table. “Show me what you can do. Finish and balance the reactions on the board,” he nodded towards the dry erase board at the front of the room with a smug look. Great, now his teasing is carrying over from those messages the other night. On top of that, his devious looks aren’t helping to quell the erratic thump in your chest. You stood to your feet while shooting him a glare and stomped over to the board then picked up a purple marker. The marker thumped against your palm as you were looking at the problem on the board trying to figure out the answer.

After a few minutes of thinking you hastily scribbled out your answer. Once finished you turned around with a confident ‘hmph’ as if to challenge him to tell you that you were- “Wrong,” he blurted out while standing from his spot at the edge of the table. Your jaw dropped. “No its not! That’s one of the easiest reactions to do in chemistry. There’s no way I got it wrong.” You protested as he walked over and plucked the marker right from your fingers. You continued to berate him as he ‘corrected’ your answer.

“You’re right ab-“ he started.

“Yeah, I know I’m right and you just messed it up!” You interrupted but he let you finish before he pushed his face dangerously close to yours. You’d have backed up if the table wasn’t already pressed into your lower back.

Minho’s voice was low when he spoke, “As I was saying, you’re right about it being an easy reaction to solve, but you still balanced it wrong. We’ve got some work to do if you can’t even figure this one out y/nnie.” He gently patted your cheek then made his way back to flip through your notebook. To say your head was spinning was an understatement. You weren’t even sure what emotions you were feeling right now. Anger? Embarrassment? Confusion? And maybe turned on?

No, there’s no way he just spoke to me like that! He’s acting all condescending. And what was that tone for anyway? Plus the nickname?? He’s just trying to rile me up..

You shook your head of any other thoughts and emotions before he caught a glimpse of your flustered state. You were now hellbent on proving this man wrong, that you did in fact know how to do easy reaction equations.

“Do you always space out with a scowl on your face?” You hadn’t even noticed he was staring at you when he asked the question. “Only when the mood calls for it,” you answered plainly.

“The mood?” Now his brow was raised. “Yeah, like when someone tells me I’m wrong when I’m not.”

He sighed with a shake of his head, “You aren’t going to learn anything if you’re just going to back talk me the entire time.”

“Well I wouldn’t back talk if you’d explain your reasoning on why my answer was incorrect. Oh, that’s right, you can’t because my answer wasn’t wrong in the first place!” Now you were the one being condescending.

Minho’s eyes narrowed at you. “Maybe if you would shut up and listen, I can tell you what’s wrong so you can actually pass the class for once.”

Ouch, that struck a nerve.

Your demeanor instantly weakened as he stood there and read you to filth. Minho could tell he went too far, and his eyes softened as your gaze averted to a blank corner of the room. “Look I’m really just trying to help you,” he pleaded.

“Then help me, Lee Know.” You sniffled with the faintest of watery eyes. Were you crying? Goodness, Minho sure hopes so. He has a thing when someone cries for him. Minho thinks you look so pretty on the verge of tears, it made him wonder what else you’d look pretty edging, but he shouldn’t focus on that right now. You wiped your eyes with the edge of your sleeve before a tear could fall. Trying to muster up the strength to continue on with this hell of a study session.

After emotions had calmed down, he came closer and showed you how to do the basics correctly. Minho explained that you had been taking notes improperly which made simple things more complicated. Your eyes widened at the realization of how much easier everything became after that.

Maybe he’s not so bad after all.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Minho’s study session actually helped you. You passed the exam the next week with flying colors. Now that you and he know you’re benefiting from the one on one time, Minho had suggested another session after the next lecture as the topics covered would be more difficult. You wanted to make sure you got things right the first time, so you agreed to meet with him again. Plus spending more time with an attractive guy that is secretly your type was a bonus.

Minho managed to book a different study room this time off-campus. You had heard of the place in passing from a friend but never thought to check it out. When you got there it was more of a lounge type of vibe but you appreciated the change of scenery. Staying on university grounds all the time could make you a bit stir crazy. You made your way towards the back of the building to see your personal tutor already hard at work in one of the study rooms. Your fist made light contact with the doorframe to let him know you arrived. 

“Ah, y/nnie come in. Close the door.” He got up to greet you with a hug. 

Touching? That's new.

You were caught off guard by his warm gesture but gave him a hug back, your body heating in the process. It was the least you could do since he’s helped so much. You decided to not put much thought into it as you got down to brass tacks. You sat on the couch in front of a coffee table since the desk in the room would be too small for collaboration.

Minho would walk you through each new topic to make sure you had a good understanding of it. All the while he sat dangerously close to you on the couch, his leg brushing against yours. Each time you made a mistake on a structure he’d take your hand and guide you on how to draw it the correct way. At first you really hadn’t noticed, but what tipped you off is when you caught him staring at you instead of the work. Then you started taking note of his lingering touches on your hand or his breath ticking your shoulder. All of this touching was making your body buzz.

Now, Minho was touching your back feening it as just an encouraging gesture but his hand position was low and his fingers danced along your spine. You never told him to stop because you weren’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was making you breathe heavier and lose focus.

Damn, he smells so good.. and that sultry voice he’s using is gonna make me melt.

 A hiss from the man brought you out of your fuzzy thoughts and snap your head towards him instead of the paper in front of you. “Watch where you put that hydrogen molecule, kitty. Can’t have you making dumb mistakes.” 

Did he just say kitty?

“Hey, I’m not dumb!” You retorted but there was no bite in your tone. You ignored the nickname, thinking it was just a slip of the tongue. He chuckled at your furrowed expression, “that’s not what I meant.” 

Minho’s hand came to squeeze your knee then proceeded to rub along your thigh. 

Seriously, when did this man get so touchy? 

The remainder of the study session went on without any major mess ups from you. The only time you did make a mistake was when Minho got bold with his touching. You never told him you didn’t like it though, his hands were warm and who were you to tell him no if it didn’t hurt anything. 

Eventually studying with Minho became a twice weekly regular thing and so did his touching. He remained respectful with the placement of his hands… until today. 

You were sat in your dorm room with Minho as all the study rooms were taken on campus and the place off campus was booked too. Guess everyone needed to lock in with midterm exams around the corner. 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get this oxidation method down. It’s so complicated for no reason,” you groaned while throwing your head back. “You just need to remember the steps, y/n. It isn’t too bad.” He laughed at your dramatics. 

“And how in the world am I going to remember it so easily?” 

“Easy. Muscle memory.” He said with almost no inflection. You turned to look at him as if he had three heads. “Lee Know, what the hell are you talking about? In case you forgot this isn’t your dance class we’re studying here. I can’t just pop and lock an oxidation reaction into my body.” 

“Sure you can, but it won’t exactly involve dancing.” Now he looked as smug as the Cheshire cat. You were still beyond confused and motioned for him to elaborate, “Ya know I can get you to remember anything by just making you feel good.” Minho’s voice lowered as he leveled himself to your face. “All you have to do is let me touch you. Whaddya say, kitten?” 

When did he get so close? 

He was so close that you could feel his breath fanning across your neck. Your brain was fuzzy and still swimming with questions, but your body was already having such a reaction to him. You shouldn’t say yes, but saying no isn’t an option either. You needed to do well in this class, you simply didn’t have any other choice. 

Without further thought you nodded your head in agreement, “Yes..” Your voice came out shakier, more breathy than intended. 

“Yes what? Say it.” He demanded with a stern tone, his hand coming up to hover over your cheek, not yet touching it until he gets an answer.

“You can touch me.” You whispered while leaning into his palm. Your response caused Minho to lean his head back with his eyes shut, a satisfied groan leaving his throat. “Good, now let’s get to work. You’ve got a lot of memorizing to do and I intend on burning it into every inch of your skin.” He placed his hands on your thighs giving them a hard squeeze while spreading them apart. Your skin already felt like it was on fire, but little did you know this was just the beginning.

You had no idea what kind of power you’ve just given to this man but he was definitely intent on showing you. 

Surely it couldn’t be that bad, right?

Special thanks to my honey @doitforbangchan for being my beta reader <3

Taglist: @doitforbangchan @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny

[vidavalor]

Well, Aziraphale went Down like a...

Bullet = lead.

Ball = root word of balloon.

...lead balloon.

Loon (contained within balloon): a rascal.

Rascal: from rabble, meaning: a mob.

Loon: a diving bird. A bird with a love for diving into the sea.

Loon: a boor. Boor: from bovis & bos, meaning cow or ox.

Boor: a farmer; a dweller. Someone who is part of a community.

Loon: One who dives; a diver. A fall involves a dive.

Loon: A mentally unbalanced or an eccentric person; from lunacy.

Heaven's ideas are, as Crowley accurately put it, lunacy.

Loon: An ember-goose. Geese: you know, as Muriel would say: big, cross ducks.

Cross: to be upset, especially angry. You don't want to cross Aziraphale when he's cross.

Also: the thing Jesus was murdered on.

Embers: the small, still-burning bits of a dying fire.

But...

Embers: the small, still-burning bits of a dying fire that are often used to stoke that fire back up to a roaring blaze.

The essential element of a fire that never dies.

Lead: Alternate meanings: one who goes first..

...and one who acts as a guide. So, Crowley...

Lead: Alternate meanings: primary; main. The character whose story arc forms the outline of the story. So, Aziraphale...

Bullet: from French boulette, meaning cannonball and small ball.

Ball: a three-dimensional, round object. Also: a party.

Information that "goes down like a lead balloon" is information that generates a negative response in the recipient.

Like when you tell off a fascist floating head over Heavenly Zoom like the total badass that you are... but then he decides he doesn't like it so he lets Satan have at tempting you... and then Satan shows up the next morning looking like said fascist floating head guy to help with his temptation because the fascist floating head is the only person who can give you the power you think you need to more fully protect the love of your life... which also just so happens to be the only thing that would ever, ever, ever tempt you to Hell...

Aziraphale already having spoken to The Metatron the night before seems to be implied in this bit here:

A "Lead Balloon": A balloon made of lead, which is heavy metal. The heaviness of the lead inhibits the balloon's ability to float in the air. It is too weighed down to be its otherwise light, joyous, balloon self. Ahhh, the scent of Aziraphale metaphor...😊

A lead balloon, by design, is never going to be able to stay Up. It's unlikely it ever was truly, fully Up in the first place.

The lead balloon is always going to fall Down.

From its beginning, its fall has been inevitable.

To "bite the bullet": An expression meaning to accept an impending difficult situation or hardship and endure the pain of going through it with fortitude.

To bite a bullet (literally) is to successfully survive The Bullet Catch.

The expression is thought to have originated from doctors who would have patients bite down on a lead bullet in order to redirect their focus enough to help them endure the pain during an operation that was occurring without anesthetics.

I'm not suggesting any bullet-paralleling shenanigans here; Crowley is a metaphorical bullet here enough as it is. This kiss is as painful as an operation without anesthetics, though...

An operation (in espionage): organized spying on and manipulation of enemy targets.

An operator: an effective, clever manipulator.

A lift operator: a person who operates the buttons in an elevator.

As we know, in Britain, what Aziraphale gets into is referred to as a lift. In the United States, it is called an elevator. This lift/elevator is in the doorway to a pub-- The Dirty Donkey. Why this location for the lift/elevator, of all the shops on Whickber Street?

Are you going to be surprised at this point to learn that I think there's a word-related reason? 😂

Elevated: Slang for being drunk, off of the notion that being drunk is experiencing a kind of high.

A high, though, is not necessarily an experience of elevation; it is just a generic term for any mental experience that is outside the norm, due to the influence of an ingested substance or substances.

A high? Can bring you down.

In Crowley's foreshadowing/paralleling case in 1827, he was elevated from the laudanum-laced wine when he was dragged down to Hell.

Alcohol is what they sell in The Dirty Donkey where the elevator/lift is.

Alcohol is not a stimulant. It may appear to send you up... but it does not actually physically send you up, no matter what it appears to be doing on the surface.

Alcohol is a depressant. Alcohol sends your body down...

It also can come with a real crash down if you have too much of it. That crash down, as we know, is called a hangover. Remember when we heard that term used in S2?

From Crowley, when Hell first showed up on Whickber Street and started to circle closer to Aziraphale:

A hangover (one of two original meanings): a thing left over from before. Like the fact that Satan and The Metatron were pretty pissed off about the end of S1. Like the fact that S2's cliffhanger, hangover ending is going to carry into the plot of S3.

Elevated is a slang term that uses language of "going up" (elevated; high) to actually describe "going down" (drunk; depression).

That other, original meaning of a hangover, though?

A survival. 😊

[in1-nutshell]

Hello! I hope you’re doing well! So, in G1, there is an episode where four Autobots ended up briefly turning into humans, called Only Humans. That episode was fun, but sadly, there were too much actions and not enough bots experiencing common phenomenons of a human body, which would have been SO fun! So may I request a similar scenario with TFP Ratchet, Optimus Prime, Arcee, Bee, and Bulkhead? But this time the times where they stayed humans were longer than that G1 episode, and during the time these guys got to experience all kinds of human body experiences like hiccups, goosebumps, throwing up, falling inside of their sleep, strung by mosquitoes, and maybe even a cold, so on and so on. And tbh I just want to know who do you think would be the ones to freak out ant goosebumps (think that bugs are crawling under them) and who would be the one to think that a 39 Celsius fever + a nasty throw up is probably normal for human body and no cause for concern? And to make this funnier I ask for a random unlucky Autobot to actually got to suffer from motion sickness (ironic, since they used to be cars themselves, and now they can’t even ride anymore without feeling like dying), and another to be truck by a tough cold/flu and had to suffer through unfamiliar symptoms like coughing, sneezing, chills, and stomach aches, and another to find out they have nasty allergies of a random kind and effect (these can all be more than one if you are feeling evil)

but of course the three kids are there to help them through this tough time— not without occasionally making fun of them a bit tho.

you can do this either in a story telling form, where you write out a whole entire story chapter, or the bullet point list regarding how different the reactions of everyone would be.

YEEEE! This request was fun to do! The bots are going to get the 'whole' human experience.

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy and the Kids helping turned humans Ratchet, Optimus Prime, Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead

SFW, Platonic, mentions of puke, Human reader

TFP

Relic accident. Enough said.

The relic, as it turned out, had the capability to turn anything of Cybertronain origin into the organic version of it depending on the planet it was on.

That was how the charges found their guardians on the floor looking dazed and confused.

Thank goodness they had clothes on.

After further inspection from Wheeljack, they all got the news.

The good news this was all temporary, they would turn back when the effects wore off.

The bad news was that this was going to last for entire week.

Which shouldn’t have been a problem… if some of them didn’t get sick.

Oh joy…

Ratchet

The Cold.

Ratchet was fine for the first day, though he was constantly complaining about the work that still needed to be done.

It was the next day that the symptoms came up.

Buddy and Raf are the only ones who manage to convince him to lay down and rest.

“Please Ratchet, your sick and need rest.”--Buddy

Ratchet trying to pass Buddy but Raf steps in front of him.

“Do it Raf!”--Buddy

“Do—cough—what?”--Ratchet

Puppy Dog Eyes activated.

“Please?”--Raf

“… fine.”--Ratchet

Buddy high-hives Raf before helping him back to his bed.

His immune system was new to its surroundings, easier for illness to sit in.

Worse that he was older than the other as well.

He was much more vulnerable to catch simple things.

Most of the bots and recently turned humans are worried about Ratchet’s health when he started sleeping more. But June and the others reassure them that Ratchet’s going to be fine.

Ratchet wants to work, but the kids and Buddy don’t let him.

Jack and Buddy oversee Ratchet’s temperature and basic medical supplies.

Buddy does their best to explain to him what is happening to his body, for reassurance.

Miko plays him classical music for once.

Blame it on the pitiful sick look on his face.

He expected some loud rock music but found it surprising when Miko began playing the keyboard softly.

Its an almost foolproof way to get him to sleep fast.

Raf sat by him telling him stories and helping him eat his food.

This wasn’t his best experience, but he certainly has much more respect on human biology and for the kids now.

Ratchet now has a mini human well-care kit in his habsuite.

Optimus Prime

The Hiccups.

Optimus was just trying some of the different waters the kids had been recommending.

“And what is this one?”--Optimus

Optimus already starting to drink.

“Sparkling water.”--Buddy

Optimus stops and looks at the water horrified.

“Why are you looking at it—OH! Wait Optimus its not ‘sparkling’s’ water is a type of water with minerals!”--Buddy

Optimus puts the water down but swallows the water in his mouth.

“Human’s drink minerals? As in the deposits?”--Optimus

“… I’m not explaining this one. Raf! Your turn!”--Buddy

Then they heard the sound.

Optimus was surprised to hear it.

Then he made it again.

He looks a bit disturbed.

He wasn’t voluntarily making the noise it was just coming out of him just like that.

Jack and Miko try to explain what hiccups are.

He gets a bit more disturbed yet intrigued.

This wouldn’t be so bad… if that noise would stop trying to interrupt him from talking and making his chest go bump!

Raf suggests ways to get rid of them.

They all go through the list until they reach the last one.

Scaring him.

They knew it was going to be a tough one, Prime wasn’t scared easily.

But Buddy had an idea.

A very dumb idea.

Optimus was talking to Jack when he noticed Buddy leaning on the railing.

He was a bit on edge seeing them so casual near the ledge.

They sat on top of it.

Then began tittering backwards until half of their body went to the other side.

Optimus is running to Buddy’s side trying to stop them from falling backwards.

Buddy just hung from their ankles looking up at him with a smug smile.

No more hiccups.

Problem solved.

He does try and scold Buddy for the recklessness… but he is also glad the hiccups are gone.

When Optimus turns back to normal, he insists to Agent Fowler to have better rails in the base.

Arcee

The Mosquito bites.

Oh, Jack had warned her about these little guys.

And now she knew why the kids were complaining about.

She wanted to eradicate every single one.

Arcee trying to squash some of the mosquitos with her hands.

“Why!”-Arcee

SMACK!

“Won’t!”--Arcee

SMACK!

“These!”--Arcee

SMACK!

“Things!”--Arcee

SMACK!

“Die!”--Arcee

SMACK!

SMACK!

Buddy and Jack already dosed with repellent.

“Felt that.”--Buddy

“Yep.”--Jack

The two humans fist bump while watching Arcee fail to smack another mosquito.

With some heavy rain, some had managed to get into the base. There weren’t many, maybe four, but they were enough to leave Arcee’s arms and legs littered with little bites.

The kids did get bitten too, but not as much as she did.

Arcee did try to use the repellent, it didn’t do anything for her.

Buddy and Miko help put anti itching cream on her, but she wants to scratch them all so bad.

When she thought they weren’t looking she would begin to scratch furiously.

Arcee didn’t know that her skin would show that she had scratched. She freaked out a bit when she scratched a bit too hard on one and it started bleeding.

Raf and Jack clean and disinfect the scratch which welcomes her to the pain of antibacterial spray.

She swears that it was the most painful thing she had to endure yet.

Raf decided to decorate the little scratches with band aids so she would scratch them.

When Arcee turns back to her normal self, she is relieved.

She has much more respect for the things humans have to do daily.

Will never tell Jack to suck it up when he has a mosquito bite again.

Bumblebee

The Motion sickness.

Oh, the Irony.

Bumblebee was a fast muscle car before!

He shouldn’t get sick when going over 15 miles per hour!

Now he was getting queasy in riding with Smokescreen and Buddy.

He feels awful.

Sweaty

Clammy hands

And something feels like something is trying to crawl out of his throat.

Bumblebee looking a bit pale as Smokescreen makes another sharp turn.

Buddy looks at Bee.

“Hey Smokes, you mind rolling the windows down a bit?”--Buddy

“Why?”--Smokescreen

Bumblebee groaning.

“Unless you want to see what the inside of a humans stomach holds, I suggest you open up the windows.”--Buddy

Windows immediately roll down.

Bee sighs with a bit of relief as the wind rolls past his face calming his stomach.

At first the two thought it was Smokescreen crazy driving that was making him sick.

But that wasn’t the case.

Buddy Bee and Raf were inside Ultra Magnus and he got queasy there too.

Magnus was one of the safest and slowest drivers on the team.

It was just him.

Bumblebee refused to leave the base after they came back.

He’d rather hang out with the kids on the couch and play games with them than go outside in another vehicle.

When Bumblebee returns to normal, he is so thankful the queasiness didn’t follow him.

He is now much more attentive to the kids when he is driving now.

His subspaces now have barf bags, just in case.

Bulkhead

Throwing Up.

All Bulkhead wanted to do was have the full human experience with Miko.

He went with her to a monster truck rally that Buddy had managed to get tickets to.

“Wow! I can’t believe you got us ticket to the rally!”--Miko

“Me neither!”--Bulkhead

“No problem, guys, just enjoy yourselves.”

“I mean I tried booking these babies in advance, but everything was booked or too expensive. How did you get the tickets?”--Miko

Buddy simply starts drinking their soda.

“Buddy?”--Bulkhead

“What you don’t know, don’t hurt.”--Buddy

“What?”--Bulkhead

“What?”--Buddy

The trio bought all sorts of junk food and sodas.

He found himself enjoying the time at the rally.

Everything was good.

Until he got back to base.

He suddenly became pale and sweaty.

The next thing Bulkhead knew, he was staring at a trash can with a bunch of mushy stuff with Buddy and Miko on either side of him.

Buddy had some of the mushy stuff on their arms, while Miko was rubbing his back gently.

The mushy stuff did stink a lot.

He felt something come out of his mouth and spew it into the bin, once again getting it on Buddy’s arms.

Bulkhead tried to apologize but it was hard to catch his breath.

Turns out a whole lot of junk food and soda was not good for you after all.

No matter how good it tasted before.

He doesn’t want to touch food while he is like this.

The kids try introducing him to lighter foods so he can at least eat something while his stomach recovers.

He likes the different kinds of broth they bring in.

When Bulkhead returns to normal, he asks Miko to stash barf bags in his interior.

He wants to have them just in case the kids need them.

Has so much more respect for them.

Will slap someone in the head if they mention to the kids to get it over with while their stomach is not feeling good.

[gammija]

PLEASE tell us more about your vampwolf au

i WILL!

First of all, the main purpose of this au is to have fun imagining vampire!martin and werewolf!jon and secrets/newly discovered abilities. so the details are very vague unless i could come up with something i found interesting

Elias is a centuries-old vampire who runs the Institute partly because he wants to gather and keep knowledge on the supernatural, partly as his personal bloodbank (shamelessly stole this idea from this fic). The supernatural is, just like in tma, not believed in outside of specific circles. Vampires are more or less typical; need to drink human blood every so often, can't go in sunlight, can turn into bats, can make thralls. New vampires are supernaturally bound to the one who made them.

Somewhere in the latter half of the 1900s, Elias turns Martin. Martin half-knew what he was getting into, but he did it to help his mom and he was lonely enough that he didnt particularly care about the consequences. Idk what Elias specifically hoped to get out of it - perhaps his previous lackey died and he just neede someone new to do his dirty work.

After Martin becomes a vampire, it becomes clear that he's quite talented at doing subtle short-term thralls on humans. A useful skill, Elias decides to keep him around for that as well, and sticks him in the basement as the archivist, which isn't a specific role in this au - just an excuse so that Martin doesn't see the sunlight. He's not allowed to snack from the Institute's employees, he's got to source his own blood. Basically Martin's life sucks and the only fun he gets is messing up the organization of the old files that get sent down.

This next part is a lot vaguer but maybe Elias wants to experiment with different combinations of supernatural creatures - there's quite a few that are born out of humans, and what if you could stack the effects somehow! and what if he could control whatever monster results from it by making them his vampire! but the problem is, as soon as someone becomes a vampire, their body stops changing, so no new supernatural abilities can stack. So he needs to keep his experiment bound to him with more normal, capitalist means until they're done cooking. or maybe he has a cursed contract for employees, idk

IN ANY CASE researcher Jon is investigating some odd deaths around the Lukas' estate. Other employees tell him to stay away from that place, it's not worth it, and Elias is like "oh nooo Jon definitely don't do a stake-out at their mansion during the full moon ;)"

Obviously the Lukasses are werewolves (they're lone wolves lol) and when Peter spots one of Elias' guys around his home, he decides to make an example of him. He attacks Jon in his car, drags him out, nearly chomps his leg off, leaves him for dead on the grounds.

Martin is sent by Elias to go and save Jon, and he can't really refuse, so off he goes. He drives a half-conscious Jon back to London and drops him off at the hospital, making sure to mind-control the people he meets into believing that Jon had come there alone. As soon as it seems like Jon won't die, he leaves.

Jon recovers in the hospital, needing to walk with crutches for a while after, but he goes back to work. because now he has a new mystery to chase: who saved him? He had lost a lot of blood by that point and he's not great with faces so he doesn't recognize Martin, but he knows there was someone there, he couldn't have driven himself back, especially with his leg. Despite this obvious truth, somehow all the nurses are convinced he came there by himself? he needs to figure this out. Also, for some reason he keeps having to shave a lot more often and craving rare steaks for dinner, but surely that's nothing.

Meanwhile Elias is happy that he's now got a werewolf who's already tied to the institute, and sticks Jon together with Martin in the basement so his vampire can keep an eye on his wolfy, make sure that Jon doesn't die while he goes poking around at other supernatural creatures as he tries to find out what happened that night, or that he doesn't kill someone and get sent to jail come next full moon. Set-up, done.

After that, I don't have a very strict idea. I think it'd be fun if Leitner (or someone like him) does his thing where he nearly threatens to tell Jon about Elias' plans for him, and Eliase has to kill him - except he lets Martin do it in the classic vampire style, so Jon can walk in on him as he sucks the lifeforce out of Leitner. Extra fun if Jon hadn't put together that Martin is a vampire yet.

Jon flees and goes to Georgie who's like 'oh yeah werewolves are real nbd'. Then, the most tragic part of this au kicks in....

as a werewolf, the Admiral is instinctively scared of Jon 😔

[raygunny]

Tav Goes Missing

Ok uh holy shit this is long, I hope you all like it - it was a labor of love 💙

Based on my prompt by the same name

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Tav

Word count: 7,556

Synopsis: Tav is under a lot of pressure - she’s suddenly been shoved into leading a team of parasite infested misfits, everything seems to want to kill them, and a certain vampire has been on her mind far too much. She needs some time away from camp, but while venturing out on her own she gets hurt - and even worse, stuck. Who will come to her rescue?

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

Trudging back to camp Tav feels a heaviness descend upon her. In her body, sure, but that’s an unavoidable fact of life at this point. More so her mind feels weary, and she’s pretty sure it’s not the parasite’s doing. At least not this time.

There’s been an anxiety hovering over her, one that only seems to kick in as they return each evening. The events of the day and the many before catching up with her as she enters the safety of camp. She should be relieved each time they make it back with all their limbs still attached, but lately, she just feels dread.

Tav feels somewhat guilty at the thought.

It’s been a pleasant surprise how much she’s enjoyed traveling with her new companions. Who would have thought that being in constant danger and sharing a psychic tadpole would be so effective in bonding them together?

If she’s being honest, though - it can be a bit much at times. There’s always some crisis, some literal life-ending problem popping up at the worst time. Really it doesn't matter what it is, Tav knows she can't bring herself to let any of them to deal with it alone. She knows that feeling all too well.

And truly, she is happy to have people around who need her and who she needs. Who enjoys her as she enjoys them.

So then why do I always feel so alone still?

Tav dismisses the thought. It’s not their fault, everything has been too much recently. Too much fighting, too much talking - trying to save their skin at every turn from some new, twisted form of danger. During the day she has no other option but to stay strong, to push the anxieties away. Failing at that means risking the safety of the whole party.

Upon their return to camp, all those thoughts suddenly come racing back. Sometimes it feels impossible to shut them off - and she needs to figure out how to shut them off. Even within the bounds of camp she knows she needs to be their unwavering leader. Sure of herself and them - carrying none of the doubts and fears that keep running through her mind. 

She just needs a minute to think - to breathe. Some space would do her well, just for a couple hours so she can get this out of her system. As tempting as it is to wander off without saying anything, she convinces herself to check in with the others.

“What can I do to help?” Tav asks as she approaches Gale. He’s building a fire, preparing to cook dinner.

Gale looks up, “Well, well - if it isn’t our fearless leader!” Tav winces a little at that. 

He doesn’t notice, glancing around, “Hmm, I think most of it is covered. I suppose we need firewood? And about this much kindling.” He holds his arms out making a circle away from his body. She resists the urge to roll her eyes, he could’ve just said an armful. “There’s enough to get us through cooking dinner, but we won’t have enough into the night.”

Shadowheart is nearby, helping Gale with dinner by chopping carrots. She pipes up, “I just saw Karloch with her axe heading towards the other side of camp. I think she’s going to chop some wood for us.”

Tav surveys the rest of their camp. Wyll is by the communal chest, focused on going through their inventory, trying to organize everything they’ve gathered in the last few days. Hopefully they’ll be going to the market tomorrow to sell some items and pick up some much needed supplies. She’s relieved, silently thanking Wyll - her brain could not handle that task right now.

Next to him is Lae’zel, who like clockwork can be found cleaning and sharpening her weapons each evening. She’s doing just that. Tav smiles as she notices Wyll’s sword and one of Karloch’s many axes at her feet.

Lately, Lae’zel has taken to helping the rest of the camp keep their weapons in top condition. Slowly but surely beginning to open up to them - in her own way of course. “You take such poor care of your blade. You clearly are unsuited for such a task, I will take it to my tent and return it to you later,” she says, her face giving away nothing. But Tav sees how she pays attention, how she knows who needs their weapons taken care of on any given evening.

Gale interrupts her train of thought, “Sounds like that leaves kindling Tav, do you want to grab some? Dinner won’t be ready for a while.” He starts talking about the stew he’s making and stresses that it needs an absolute minimum cooking time of two hours for optimal tenderness and flavor. He starts complaining about how they haven’t had a hot meal in far too long. 

It’s been like a day, Tav sighs internally. That’s fine, it just means she’s got plenty of time to burn.

“Patience is a virtue,” Gale finishes, holding one finger up. Turning it towards himself he continues with a grin, “And I’m quite virtuous”. She’s amused but won’t let him see it, he’s been incorrigible lately. 

Her stomach rumbles loudly. She, on the other hand, is not particularly virtuous it would seem. Fishing out an apple and some bread from her larger pack, she makes purposeful eye contact with Gale and raises her eyebrows. He shakes his head chuckling a little and turns back to building the campfire. She stashes the snacks in her satchel, she won’t be gone that long but it doesn’t hurt to have on hand.

“I’ll go get the kindling, I might be a little while though.” Gale waves a hand in her direction and just tells her to have fun.

Tav goes to change into her camp clothes and as she strips off her shirt she notices a tear in the sleeve. It’s going to need to be mended. She grabs it and heads towards Astarion’s tent.

As far as camp duties go, Astarion typically gets away with minimal work - instead focusing on looking pretty while reading one of his many books. He swears up and down that he’s doing it for research purposes, “You never know what kind of helpful information can be found until you find it, darling. If you think about it, I’m doing the most arduous work here! Now shoo.”

Occasionally, he can be convinced to mend clothing and the like. She approaches Astarion’s tent, knowing there’s about a 50/50 chance she’ll be able to talk him into fixing it for her. Better than it used to be, she thinks with a smirk.

Seeing the shirt in her hands as she walks up, Astarion doesn’t even wait before he says, “Oh no you don’t - you better not be coming over here with that. I’ve already mended plenty of clothing this week! It’s getting ridiculous really, I hadn’t realized I’d become the camp seamstress,” he huffs. “I mean honestly Tav, can’t you tell I’ve got plenty of reading to do,” he gestures to the books haphazardly stacked next to him. She can see the smile he’s trying to hide and knows he’ll do it for her if she chooses her next words carefully.

“I don’t see those books going anywhere anytime soon, Astarion.” Her eyes flick to his, “Plus, I’ll make it worth your while, I promise,” she says, knowing he’ll take the bait.

“Worth my while?” the corners of his lips twitch before revealing the smile he had tried hiding. She very much enjoys those smiles, the ones he doesn't mean to let slip. “I like the sound of that”, he purrs, effortlessly switching into a more flirtatious tone.

She steals one of his moves - a quick look up and down, as if shamelessly admiring his beauty while simultaneously sizing him up. Bringing her eyes to his, she flirts back with, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, handsome. We’ll have to see how good of a job you do before we work out payment.”

“That hardly sounds fair,” he fake pouts.  

Time to appeal to his more practical side, “Besides, you need to make yourself look busy before you get pulled into doing something more labor intensive by the others.”

He strokes his chin thoughtfully before making up his mind, “Fine, I suppose you can’t keep walking around looking like a slob. Hand it here.” She goes to hand it over and he brushes his long fingers across hers purposefully. That flirtatious tone comes back, “And don’t forget, you owe me.”

She almost rolls her eyes, but reminds herself she had encouraged it. Sometimes he can be so frustrating. One second he’s there, present and having a good time, then something happens and she sees one of his many masks slip into place. It was difficult to spot at first, but now that she’s gotten to know him better, it’s hard not to notice. Tav still can’t pin down the why - it seems so random at times. Despite her curiosity, she doesn’t call him out on it. She’s gathered enough bits and pieces to know it’s not the kind of subject that leads to an easy conversation.

And to be fair, it is fun to flirt back and forth with him.

“See, was that so hard?” she teases before turning away. Waving over her shoulder she throws out a quick, “Thank you Astarion!” and is off.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters back, lost in thought, eyes still glued to her as she walks away.

Tav knows he won’t say it, but he likes people coming to him, needing his help. At least in this kind of way. The small, satisfied smile he has on his face when she examines his handiwork and praises him for the quality of it - “Wow, good as new!” - is all she needs to know.

She heads towards the edge of camp. Sure enough, Karloch is going to town on the surprisingly large tree limb she’d carried back a couple days ago. Tav catches Karloch’s eye just as her greataxe finds itself driven into the wood once again. Karloch waves, yelling out, “Just letting off some steam!” with a proud smile on her face. “Pun fully intended!”

Tav just chuckles and waves back.

----

It’s turning into a pleasantly cool evening, the sun will set in the next few hours but that gives her plenty of time to gather wood at her leisure - relishing the alone time this affords her.

She knows where she wants to go and starts heading that direction. They passed a cave the other day, but despite her pleas the others didn’t want to explore it, saying they were too tired. Tav suspects none of them are going to be interested in going back so she figures, if she has to go pick up sticks, then might as well do it somewhere interesting.

Her mind begins to wander. Thinking about the events of the last few days, dissecting a recent fight with some Harpies near the grove.

They’d caught the party by surprise. It was a rough start to the encounter. Shadowheart, who was closest to the beasts, immediately fell into a trance, charmed by their song. Karloch wasn’t in an ideal position either, too far from the harpies to charge them but also too low down for her ranged attacks to be effective. She settled for stepping in front of the child to create the best tiefling shield she could. That was good thinking on her part, Tav notes.

Tav and Gale caught each other’s eyes and silently agreed to move towards higher ground. Both scrambling up the opposite sides of the embankment, ready to use their ranged spells.

Despite the initial disadvantage, they were making good progress handling the beasts. That is, until two more flew in - this time heading straight for them. One descended on Gale, kicking him square in the chest. He was thrown off the embankment right as he used a fireball scroll to finish off the harpy singing across the water.

Thankfully, that broke Shadowheart’s trance and she quickly oriented herself to cast silence on the two harpies closest to her, a much welcomed relief. With the third preoccupied - trying to stomp Gale into the ground albeit - at least they didn’t have to worry about being charmed for now.

An arrow wizzes by, finding its way into the neck of the harpy attacking Gale. Astarion had tagged along that day as their fifth member, saying something about how dreadfully bored he was and that he needed to go to the market. It was a good thing Tav let him, he was the one really covering their asses at the moment. He had secured a hiding spot high on the nearby cliffs and relentlessly fired arrow after arrow, crippling their enemies from the shadows. With the one near Gale now critically wounded, Astarion immediately turned to shoot the one closing in on Shadowheart - it dropped right out of the air, hitting the ground hard. Tav sees it from the corner of her eye, nice one.

Karloch, happy to finally be able to properly hit the damn things, finishes off the one standing over Gale with a quick swing of her axe. She then proceeds to run to the now badly injured harpy lying on the ground, a fury of ruthless swings befall it and it soon lies still, thoroughly dead. The final harpy screeches and takes flight, in the next second Tav is pinned. She tried to free herself but was running on fumes, already hurt pretty badly. Astarion is the one who drives two arrows into its back, killing it before it can get another swipe on her. Shadowheart, out of breath but generally unhurt, runs over and proceeds to heal everyone. After almost getting their asses handed to them, they really needed it.

“What in the nine hells was that all about?!” Astarion yells, only sounding slightly hysterical. “I was practically carrying the whole team just now!” His pitch somehow increases, “And I’m not even supposed to be here!!”

They collectively groan. Rubbing her sore shoulder Tav just says, “Not now Astarion. We weren’t expecting to fight on this side of the grove.”

He scoffs, “Really though, is that how you all fight when I’m not here? Next time try to be a little more perceptive. You’re extremely lucky I came along today. I can’t always be the one saving you from danger!”

Tav glares at him, about to argue. Instead, Karloch steps in to defuse the strange tension that’s begun to form between the two of them. She smiles cheerfully, “Of course you can soldier, that was some top notch fighting out there.” Looking at the others she says, “Shall we head back to camp?” Her tone is light but they can tell it’s an order, not a question.

Shaking herself out of the daydream, Tav smiles - despite the ambush and the drama, the team had worked well together. They’ve been working well together for a while now, she reflects. In this relatively short amount of time, they really have fallen into a good rhythm. Learning to trust each other and adapting their fighting styles to compliment one another. Thinking back to what camp looks like right now, she realizes it’s not just battle they’ve fallen into a good rhythm with either. She feels a little bit better at the thought.

Slowing down Tav takes a moment to re-orient herself - she hadn’t realized how far she’d walked. The cave should be nearby but she’s not sure. Up ahead there's an overturned tree stump, they’d passed it the same day she spotted the cave. She relaxes, it shouldn’t be much further. 

Marching on, the cool air has gotten even cooler, starting to feel heavy with moisture. The trees are swaying gently as the wind picks up, their leaves fluttering above her.

It’s going to rain, she realizes.

To her disappointment, there will be no time to explore the cave today. She turns to head back to camp, miffed about walking all this way for nothing, but knowing she’ll need to pick up her pace if she’s going to get back before it rains. She considers leaving without the wood, after all, they’re probably not going to be able to keep the fire going tonight with the rain. She decides against it, they’ll need dry kindling for the morning.

The storm clouds are rolling in and have darkened the sky, by proxy the forest darkens as well. This is not good, Tav thinks. She really needs to pick up the pace now. Her arms are completely full of twigs and branches, making it difficult to walk. She stops, shifting to get a better grip. It’s hard to see over the pile in her arms and the light is fading fast.

She should've just grabbed wood near camp then went exploring. She mentally kicks herself.

As Tav begins to hurry along again, she doesn’t get very far. A tree root jutting out of the earth finds itself in her path. She doesn’t see it and as she steps forward, directly on the root, her right ankle gives out. As Tav swings towards the dirt, she lets out a startled, “SHIT”.

She finds herself not just hitting the ground, but tumbling down into the ditch she’d been walking along. A fiery pain shoots up her leg. Tav groans as she rolls over and sits upright. Taking stock of herself, she tries moving her ankle but that intensifies the pain. Yeah, that’s messed up for sure. She reaches up to her brow where she feels a trickle of something wet. She brushes her fingers over the area and winces at the sting of a small cut. It’s bleeding, but that’s the least of her worries right now.

She takes a deep breath to calm herself. Getting back to camp will not be fun, but she’ll have to try her best. The wood is a lost cause, strewn about in a rough pile on the ground. She tries to gain her composure before attempting to prop herself against the side of the ditch. It’s a steep incline, she’ll need to stand to have a chance to pull herself out. She tries several times to shift to a better position, but with her right foot dangling uselessly she’s not going anywhere this way. The pain in her ankle is no joke, but she’s been hurt way worse than this before and kept going. It’ll be okay, she tells herself.

Her optimism is met with rain. The universe makes it clear that it is staunchly opposed to giving her a break today. It’s only sprinkling for now, but the incline out of the ditch is only going to get slicker.

----

Back at camp the others begin to wonder where she’s at. It's getting dark and they’ve noticed the rain clouds too. They’re gathered near the fire, discussing what they should do. “She said she might be a while,” Gale chimes in, “I bet she’ll be back any minute now. She’s not going to want to miss my delicious stew.” It’s a hopeful statement, but his voice still carries a tinge of worry. 

Karloch frowns, “I don’t know Gale, she should be back by now. Gathering kindling doesn’t take that long, even if she was taking herself for a little walk.”

“Yeah, plus it’s about to rain.” Wyll backs her up.

While the group continues debating if they should go look for her or wait just a little longer, Astarion is quiet. He’s been painfully aware of the approaching rainstorm and how long it’s been since she left, but he also knows Tav is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. 

Though...they did see some juvenile gnolls the other day, but never found their den - he can’t shake the thought, something else occurring to him - shit and she probably ventured out to that damn cave she was going on about the other day.

He tries to push away the worry in the pit of his stomach, but those two thoughts make up his mind. “You lot do whatever you want - I’m not sitting around here any longer to wait until it starts pouring to go look for her,” he says, storming off in the direction she had exited camp. He hears Karloch and Wyll volunteer to go look too, splitting down different paths to cover more ground.

Astarion heads in the general direction of the cave. It’s a much farther walk than he was expecting, several times doubting if he was going in the right direction. Soon it starts raining lightly, and to his annoyance his nice clothes are getting wet, his poor shoes muddying as well. Ugh, and his hair must look a mess. He combs a hand through it, pushing it back and off his face. If Tav is back at camp right now and he’s out here for nothing he’s going to be pissed. With the path getting muddier by the minute, he considers heading back. The gnolls flash through his mind and a feeling of dread rises inside his chest.

No, not quite yet, he thinks.

Soon he sees the large stump they’d passed the other day - he’s getting close. Astarion keeps an eye out for any signs of Tav, soon coming across a rough pile of sticks down in a ditch. It looks suspiciously like someone had gathered wood and then chucked it down there. Looking a little closer he sees what appears to be drag marks moving away from the pile. Shit, that’s not good. The dread turns into real fear. Now he’s certain Tav has to be nearby.

“Tav?” he calls out loudly before he can stop himself. After all, someone or something nefarious could be lurking about. That thought is interrupted by Tav’s relieved voice calling back, “Astarion, is that you?”

Duh, he thinks, who else sounds like him? He hurries in the direction of her voice. She’s not far.

When he spots her, his throat feels tight. She looks an absolute mess - covered in mud, scratches down her chest and arms, and her head is bleeding. He rushes over and climbs down to her. “What in the hells are you doing down here? What happened? Are you ok?” He starts looking her over, positive she can hear the worry in his voice, but he doesn't care about that right now.

He looks rather disheveled, Tav observes. The rain has picked up and his hair is wet and matted to his head, his shoes and now his pants covered in mud. His shirt clings to his chest, slightly translucent from the rain. She’s never quite seen him like this. Focus Tav, she thinks.

“I hurt myself and couldn’t get out of the ditch,” she grimaces, gesturing to her ankle. “I was trying to drag myself to higher ground in case a flash flood came through here.”

“Well, that’s one smart thing you did.”

Tav wants to be offended, but now is not the time. She can see he’s upset - whether it’s at her or the situation she’s not sure. “Did you bring any healing supplies?” she asks hopefully. 

He deflates, “Uhhh no, those seem to have, uh, evaded me.”

She just looks up at the sky, fat raindrops falling on her face, cursing whatever deity has it out for her today. 

“What? Don't be like that. I rushed out of camp and came all this way through the rain and the wretched mud to rescue you.” He frowns. “Of course it would've been ideal if I had thought to grab a healing potion or two but..” trailing off there’s nothing else to say except, “I’m here alright??”

She lets out a sigh, “Just please get me out of this ditch before you get stuck down here too.”

She doesn't need to tell him twice. Astarion bends down and without warning throws Tav over his shoulder in one smooth motion. He’d already come to terms with the fact that he’s going to be covered in mud by the time they get out of here. She lets out a startled yelp. “Shit, Tav, I’m sorry - did I hurt you?” She can hear the worry creep back into his voice.

She feels a bit lightheaded, “Ah, no. You just surprised me. Didn’t expect to be hauled over your shoulder like a rag doll,” she tries to play it off with a joke, but it just comes out lamely. In actuality, she didn’t think he could lift her like that - but she won’t dare say that. He’s strong, don’t get her wrong, but not the Karloch or Lae’zel type of strong. It’s kind of impressive actually.

“Honestly Tav, if you’re going to keep criticizing my rescue attempt I can leave you right here.” While he is genuinely annoyed, they both know he doesn’t mean it one bit.

“No no, you’re doing a great job hero-ing it up. Please just get me out of here, I’m tired of sitting in the mud.”

He doesn’t even justify that with a response, instead taking a few steps forward and shifting her so he can boost her up to grab another tree root. She has to push up with both legs for a moment and she lets out an actual cry from the pain.

This is awful, Astarion thinks.

She makes it and he pulls himself up right behind her, she is grimacing in pain on her hands and knees. Astarion puts a hand on her back and her arm around his neck, helping her up to stand on one foot.

The rain is quickly turning into a downpour and it’s almost fully dark now. Now what? Try to carry her back to camp, through the mud and rain? He doesn’t think that’s an option at this point. They need to find shelter.

“You were out here looking for that damn cave weren’t you?” he asks. 

She looks at him sheepishly, “Yeah it should be just past those trees.” She points to a nearby cluster of trees. “Are you thinking about sheltering there until the rain passes?”

He doesn’t answer her question, just scoops her up in his arms and starts walking.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she says, but doesn’t give him any more attitude than that. She’s starting to feel bad, knowing that this is not what Astarion had planned for his evening. 

He just keeps looking forward, trying not to think about how nice she feels in his arms. She’s shivering, but compared to him she’s so warm against his chest. It feels good, clearing away some of the worry that's been knotting in there for the last couple hours. Relief, he supposes, unconsciously holding her a little tighter.

They reach the cave and he sets her down gently on a rock right inside the entrance. He peers further into the cave, obviously wondering if they’re the only occupants, the threat of gnolls popping back into his head. “I’ll be right back,” he says as he quietly makes his way further in. Astarion returns a couple minutes later and reports there’s nothing else in there with them. He picks Tav up again and carries her further into a larger, dryer portion of the cave.

She spots a bedroll in decent condition, discarded near what looks to have been an extinguished campfire. Some wood even remained stacked next to it. Someone must have been here recently.

“Do you think anyone will be coming back?” she asks, pointing to the firewood.

Astarion sets her down again, this time on the ground so she can lean against the wall. “No, I don’t think so. There’s too many cobwebs covering that pile, I doubt anyone has been here for a while.”

She agrees and relaxes a little. Her ankle is throbbing in pain, she’s really noticing how bad it is now that they’re in relative safety. Sounds about right, she thinks, shivering again. 

Astarion looks at her, lips pressed together as if to keep himself from saying what’s really on his mind. How unusual.

“You’re drenched and disgusting.” 

Ah. There it is. She fires back, “Well you’re not much better off, pal.”

His frown deepens. “Very observant Tav, that is in fact correct,” he hisses. His voice rises dramatically, echoing through the cave, “AND who’s fault might that be?”

Yikes, ok, she needs to cool it with the comments. He is understandably not in the mood for her shit right now. It’s just so hard to resist poking at him, she likes it when he gets riled up. And usually he does too, though he hides his amusement the best he can.

He takes a breath, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. Looking at the ceiling of the cave as if asking, why me?  

“Look, I’m not going to catch a cold but you might,” he finally says, and she fears that frown on his face isn’t going away anytime soon.

“We can build a fire while waiting for the storm to pass,” she pauses before asking, “You can build a fire, right?”

She’s on thin ice. He huffs, “In theory, yes. In practice, I’m not sure. That’s usually Gale’s job.”

She knows he just needs some encouragement. “I think I have a flint in my satchel, grab it and I can walk you through it.” He turns and does so without any complaints - that’s also odd for him, she notes.

Once the fire is going she can see Astarion relax a little. Tav looks down at her muddy clothing. Astarion looks at her again, “You should probably take your clothes off.” 

Tav understands what he’s saying, but still she jokes in a scandalized voice, “Astarion, now is hardly the time for that.” He rolls his eyes and she gets the tiniest smile out of him. She knew it, he can’t help himself either. She holds her hands up in peace, “Sorry, just trying to lighten up a pretty shit situation.”

Astarion shakes out the abandoned bedroll, ripping a strip of fabric from its bottom layer. He then lays it down near the fire. It’s not ideal but better than lying on the uncomfortable cave floor. “And I love that for you, darling, but excuse me if I’m still feeling a little on edge.”

There’s no real venom behind the words. That guilty feeling creeps back up on Tav. “Hey, I’m really sorry about this. I-”

He’s not ready to talk about it yet, interrupting her by saying, “At least take your pants off so I can look at your ankle.”

Tav gives up, she won’t argue this time. Moving to undo her pants she says, “I’m going to need some help with these. They’re soaked and I’m not the most…mobile right now.” She looks up at him, her exhaustion is starting to show, “Please?”

Something flashes across his face, a look she hasn’t seen before. It stays put this time, no flirtatious words or familiar mask taking its place. He moves closer, leaning down.

“Grab my shoulders,” he says, his tone a little gruffer than she’s used to. Tav does as he says, wrapping her arms around his neck. One of his arms wraps around her waist while the other hand travels up the back of her right thigh, holding that leg steady so she doesn’t have to put any pressure on it while he stands her up. 

Clinging to him as he lifts her off the ground, her face finds its way into his neck. She exhales and can feel a shiver run down his body. Tav was not expecting whatever this is. Her heart rate picks up and she can feel a blush spread down her neck. 

Astarion moves them towards where he laid out the bedroll. He doesn’t lay her down but instead continues to hold her tightly. He moves his leg between hers, removing his hand from her thigh and bracing her against his own, so her hurt leg still dangles a little off the ground. She feels tingly and a little lightheaded, she’s quick to blame it on the fact that she hasn’t eaten much tonight.

The arm wrapped around her waist helps keep her up while the other moves to her waistband. He pulls back and looks at her for permission, all she can do is nod breathlessly. He maneuvers his fingers gently into her waistband, sliding her pants past her butt and down to her thighs as far as he can go.

“I’m going to set you down now.” He places his hand on the back of her thigh again and begins lowering her back down. His voice still sounds a little strange.

She’s stunned - what the hell was that.

He doesn’t say anything else as he continues on, gently pulling her boots off first, her pants soon following. He makes sure to be especially careful with her injured foot. Her ankle is already swollen and a concerning shade of purple.

“What do you think doc?”, she breaks the tension in the air. 

He clears his throat, his voice sounds normal again as he says, “Tsk, I don’t think you’re going to make it.” He shakes his head solemnly, “Such a shame - before all of this you were my favorite one at camp.”

He doesn’t leave her any time to retort before standing up to go lay out her pants on the other side of the fire. It won’t fix how muddy they are but it will dry them out. “Do you want to dry your shirt too, or no? I can always, ahem, help with that if needed.”

Tav can see the mask reforming, whatever happened moments ago slipping away. Don’t go, she thinks - instead she says, “No need, I’ve had you do enough for one day.” She only feels a little shy as she takes it off, tossing it over to him. He follows suit, stripping his shirt off, but briefly hesitating before slipping his pants off as well. He’s practically never the shy one, it’s something he’s done thousands of times - but with Tav he suddenly feels vulnerable.

Something in the air still feels weird between them. Tav can’t think of anything to say except, “Nice undies.” She apparently just cannot help herself with the comments today.

That charming face is fully back on. Deflecting, he makes a comment about her getting lost out here to seduce him. “All you had to do was ask and we could both be in my tent, in a similar state of undress, nice and warm right now.”

She looks at him and blurts out, “Why do you do that?”

His face drops for a second. “What do you mean?”

“Your face, it..changes sometimes, like you’re flipping a switch.” She hesitates before adding, “Or putting on a mask.”

“I’m not exactly sure what you’re getting at..” he starts to say, but he’s tired and decides to be somewhat honest. She’s certainly being direct with him. “Well, I suppose when you’re as pretty as I am dear, people expect a little flirtation.” He looks down at Tav, trying to get a read on her after asking him such a strange question. “Usually it’s welcomed, but...I mean, if you’re uncomfortable I can tone it down.” 

She shakes her head, “I don’t mind per se, but I feel weird sometimes because it doesn’t always seem authentic.”

Shit, she’s way more perceptive than I thought.

“I don’t mean that in a bad way, but..” she trails off for a second. “You do know we can just be friends, right? I don’t need you to flirt with me to like you, Astarion.”

Now he really doesn’t know what to say.

“Why?” is the only thing that comes out of his mouth.

“Why would I like you even when you’re not flirting with me?”

“Yes, that’s usually what everyone wants.”

She’s starting to understand a little better now, so she says, “Well, I guess I don’t particularly want anything from you, Astarion.”

Ah, there it is, so she just doesn’t want him around in general. He can’t even lie to himself - it stings a little bit. He’s not used to being rejected, especially not by someone he actually gives a shit about. He laughs louder than he means to, “Well I can’t fathom why my company isn’t wanted - I’m a delight, if I do say so myself - but if you want me to leave then so be it. I can go and grab the others now that you’re in a safe place.”

She’s slightly baffled by his response, “What? No, Astarion, I do want you around. I just mean I will take what you’ll give me. I don’t want anything from you that you don’t want to give.” 

Ok, now she’s really not making sense. What does that even mean? He tries to hide his confusion. “Ah ok I see...but why?” he asks again. This time there’s curiosity behind it - instead of an accusation in the form of a question.

She shrugs, “Do I need a reason? I enjoy you Astarion. I like your company, you’re fun to talk to. We’re friends, and friends don’t have to do anything for each other. We can just be.”

He doesn’t say anything so she continues, “I admire you in a lot of ways - how you speak your mind, your sense of humor, the way you indulge me when I’m being annoying.” She sees an amused look form on his face and she smiles, “How you make me feel protected.” Oh no, it’s getting too serious now - she recovers, “I mean, your proclivity for violence definitely comes in handy.” Her eyes swing to his with a mischievous look on her face. 

She hadn’t even mentioned anything about my looks, Astarion thinks, digesting her words. He’s practically naked too. Usually he would feel offended, but this time it feels..nice. “We’re friends?” It’s the only thing he can think to say.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

This is not how he imagined this conversation, let alone this night, going. He decides it’s his turn now, “Well if we’re friends then let me ask you a question.”

Tav raises one eyebrow, “Go on.”

“Why did you go off all this way by yourself? And don’t you dare say it was just to explore this awful cave - there’s more to it.” Astarion knows he’s right. After all, Tav’s not the only one good at reading people.

Tav sighs. “I guess I’ve just been very overwhelmed lately. I needed some time away, to sort through my thoughts and figure shit out. Just exist without the weight of the world on my shoulders for a little bit.”

Astarion ponders that for a second then says, “I may not have the most experience in this arena, but isn’t that the kind of thing friends help out with? ‘Venting’, I think they call it.” She snorts and he continues, “Everyone is always coming to you, but you never come to us.”

He’s not sure if he should say this next part, “You say I have a mask, but I see yours too.”

He’s not wrong, she thinks. “I don’t know, everyone else just has these big huge things going on and I’m just..here. How could I not help?”

He rephrases his statement into a question, “Ok yes, but why do you feel the need to help literally every single person you come into contact with, yet still can’t ask for it in return?”

She looks at her hands, another sigh escaping her lips, “Probably because I’m used to handling my own problems by myself.”

The thought of her being alone is surprising to him. Tav seems like the kind of person who has lots of friends back home. She’s funny and charismatic, always taking care of others - he can’t think of one reason why she wouldn’t have people eager to be her friend. He’s not going to dig further into that at the moment, he senses it’s not what she needs right now.

“I may not know much about friendship, but I do happen to know a few things about loneliness.” He sits down facing her, gingerly propping her hurt leg up in his lap and carefully begins to wrap her ankle with fabric he tore from the bedroll. His bedside manner isn’t the worst she’s experienced. “Back in Baldur’s Gate I couldn’t let myself get close to anyone. If I did, they would just become another weakness for Cazador to exploit against me.” His face twists, “And honestly, people weren’t exactly lining up looking for friendship from me.” He keeps going, “What I do know is the last several weeks traveling in a team has been…good. I feel lighter, safer. Like I can actually somewhat enjoy my days, even when you all are acting insufferable.”

He just had to throw that last part in there, Tav thinks - letting out a small chuckle. She doesn’t care, she’s just happy to hear him open up to her like this. She feels less alone.

He moves his hand to her shin, not even thinking as he nervously rubs small circles into her skin. “And Tav, I attribute most of that to you.”

Her breath catches for a second at the look on his face, she can tell he means it when he says, “I may not be the best at it, but I want to be here for you as well.” He clears his throat. “So you need to get it together and start relying on your friends.”

Her face is on fire, but she tries to play it cool. Once again, she was not expecting that at all. 

“What I’m hearing you say is that you do like me after all,” she teases him, a grin on her face now.

He groans in response, “Don’t make me regret this.”

They both sit in silence for a minute, each thinking about what the other said.

“So hypothetically, what if I wanted to keep flirting with you?” Astarion asks, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

She laughs, of all things that’s what he wants to circle back to? “If you want to flirt with me, I’m all for it - but only if you hypothetically really want to.” She tries to read his face.

He looks at her now, eyes straying to her lips. She’s so beautiful in the light of the fire. Hair wet, cheeks rosy, eyes sparkling with amusement. Even slightly scratched up and muddy, she's a vision. He can’t stop himself, “And what if..what if I wanted to kiss you?”

Tav's heart is racing so fast that she can feel her own pulse. What is going on today? First the worst luck she’s had in a while, and now this? The universe is messing with her.

Time to put her cards on the table. She wants to show him she’s sure about him - sure about whatever the hell is going on right now. “I would welcome it.”

He moves her leg gently, placing it back on the ground. In the next moment he’s moved up next to her, studying her face the whole time. He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

His eyes are so round and soft - the softest expression she's ever seen on his face. His voice is much lower now, "What if I wanted to kiss you right now?"

Looking to his lips and then back at his eyes, she leans towards him. Only a breath away now, Tav whispers, “Then I would kiss you back.”

And with that he closes the distance, her lips are so soft and warm that it makes him shiver. His tongue swipes against her bottom lip and she welcomes him. It’s not fair how good she tastes. His hands come up to cup both sides of her face and he kisses her more deeply. Her head is swimming, it’s by far one of the most passionate kisses she’s ever received.

He pulls back, slightly breathless, and moves his face to rest against her cheek. “I was really worried about you today.” It's a confession. 

She doesn’t move, just says, “I know,” and brings her hand to cup the back of his neck. She can feel the tension there. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“Anytime.”

And she knows he means it.

--

--

--

--

Bonus:

“Ok but seriously, where are the others at? They just let you venture off alone to rescue me?”

He shrugs, “I know at least Karloch and Wyll also went out looking, but I’m sure they’re back at camp by now.”

“What about the others?” 

“They just don’t like you as much as I do apparently.” he cracks a mischievous smile.

“That’s messed up.” She says, but she’s laughing. He loves it when she laughs.

Astarion chuckles, “I can tell you that Gale’s probably making love to his stew right about now.”

Tav shakes her head still smiling, “That sounds painful.”

[superultrachicken]

We need a version of the Justice League where Wonder Woman's team mom.

I noticed that the Justice League is primarily made of orphans. Even if they're not an orphan, they've at least lost a single parent, usually their mother (because woman in the fridge is such a prevalent trope).

So... Diana is over 2000 years old in most comics. Even if we're just counting years spent outside of paradise as a demi-goddess experiencing the rest of the world, she'd still be around 85 mentally, even if she doesn't age. So when she starts finding these wayward children, she starts getting attached to them as if they were her own children.

Here are some ideas for how it could work:

Superman - She was a close family friend of the Kents while Clark was growing up and would often watch him while they were on a date night or the like. She was around so often that she acted as a secondary mother figure. Having multiple strong feminine influences during an overall good childhood makes him the most well adjusted member of the Justice League and he attributes a lot of that to Diana. She sees Clark as her son.

Batman - Adult adoption. This is after he's adopted most of the bat-family, she asks him why and in a moment of vulnerability he tells her that it's because he knows what it's like, it's why he love Alfred, because Alfred's been a father to him, even if he didn't really know how beyond being protective. That he had a rough childhood. Diana's motherly instincts kick in and she starts comforting him. After a while, they get close enough to be considered family, some of the bat-family actually start calling her grandma and she's more or less become a part of the family. She asks him if he'd be interested in adult adoption and though he struggles with it, Bruce eventually says yes. She brings presents for Bruce's kids every time she comes around. She includes Barbara in the gift giving too so she doesn't feel left out.

The Flash - Adoption. Barry effectively becomes an orphan in his backstory due to his father being in prison after being wrongfully convicted of the murder of Barry's mother. She raises Barry from childhood having no clue that he'd end up getting his powers later in life. Using New 52 here because they actually made Reverse Flash a good villain instead of being a lazy palette swapped evil version. It also amuses me to think of Bruce and Barry as siblings.

Aquaman - She knew Arthur's father while he was growing up. While she'd only see him while she was in Boston, he left a lasting impression on him as one of the few feminine influences he had. After the first few times she'd even bring gifts for both him and his father from Metropolis.

Green Lantern - Same as Arthur, knew Hal's parents growing up and got super close with the family.

Martian Manhunter - Close friends. He's the only other member of the group who can comprehend living as long as she has.

As other members start joining, she starts feeling responsible for them. Effectively mothering most of them. She also formed the Justice League in part to protect the salt of the earth, working class people that raised most of the other founding members. These are the people she spends most of her time with when she's not out saving the world.

She also has a red lantern ring that only activates with her mom rage. Gods help any soul dumb enough to hurt one of her children.

Clark suggests calling the organization the Super Friends and Diana's like "I love you Clark, but we need something a bit more official, like the Justice League." Bruce and Barry simultaneously chime in with "I agree with mom." Barry doesn't waist time doing the jinx, he's just adjusting to having a much older brother very quickly.

[absolutedestinyapocalypsse]

Raine is the embodiment of trying to fix the system from the inside, of the idea that is taught to us by people in power that the institutions that are designed to hurt us are neutral, and need only be wielded by the right people. If the finale of the show is trying to teach how you dont owe forgiveness and kindness to people who dont want to change, Raine's part of the story exemplifies how even the kindest, most forgiving person can be rendered helpless by these institutions if they try to fight from within them, how sometimes the very institutions we accept as given in our word dont deserve our forgiveness either, don't deserve our hope that they will change for the better, because they were always designed to hurt people.

Raine became head witch because they wanted to be a mentor, to help- this intention is never muddied or changed at any point in the series (this is very important- Raine is not corrupted by the power or position, it's not a matter of good people becoming bad with power, its a matter of good people being unable to do good within the system)

It's an isolating job- it appears to be them alone against the covens and belos. But the most effective change we seen them enact is not through their status as a coven head- something they are not comfortable or suited for as someone who "can't stand an audience"- its done through the CATTS, a group outside the coven system designed to persuade and help people against the throne. They get to wear a mask, get to perform in a way that makes them comfortable get to overcome their fear in a group setting. The CATTS organize in a very realistic way, and through them Raine meets Eda again, comes closer to the love and community they lost around the time when they joined the Bard coven.

But then, the plan changes- they go under cover. Pretend theyre working with the emperor until the last moment, use their status as a coven head to change the outcome of the day of unity. Whe they're doing that, they have to very publically denounce all of their beliefs, and behave as if the system that's trapping them is good. They aren't actually being controlled at this point, but the nature of the plan is such that they have to act like an arm of the emperor, going against everything they believe in. So, in a very real, non-magic way, they still are being controlled.

And the plan ends up being a disaster. All that work, all that deep cover planning, none of it stopped the day of unity from happening. Meanwhile, Raine's spent all this time- what was probably their last opportunity to reconnect with Eda and build back a damaged relationship before the world ended-compromising their beliefs and behaving as a propaganda machine for Belos. It appears, at the beginning of season 3, that Raine has given up everything- their autonomy, their friends, their love- for nothing. So, of course Belos picks them to possess- he's so used to Raine being a puppet in every other way. They have inadvertendly made themself a vessel for the will of the emperor through trying to stop him.

And now, they have another internal battle to fight- one over direct control over their own body (I don't think it's a coincidence that the biggest trans character in the show has this struggle, but thats for later.) What has been more of a symbolic or ideological control for all of the series becomes an inescapable physical control, one that they fight with every inch of their being to overcome. And they do overcome it- they push Belos out- but it doesn't stop him. Just like how it was being a coven head, being a tool for Emperor Belos didn't actually give Raine the power to stop him, it just put them in close enough proximity to him to be hurt more.

It's meaningful that they finally do get to take down Belos when he's without the system he build to prop himself up and put down others, literally ripped from the heart of the titan- nothing but a manipulative pile of goo. It's meaningful that they do it surrounded by friends and allies and lovers, and it's meaningful that they get to enjoy it, after all this time scratching at the surface and trying to change the coven system for the better, the thing that finally destroys it- destroys Belos is an alliance- a found family- curb stomping him into oblivion.

[decolonize-the-everything]

If Americans shouldn't vote for Biden what should they do instead? Vote for trump? Vote third party? Not vote?

(I know most people would probably ask you this in bad faith but I'm just really distraught at the state of politics and keep hearing people say "don't say he's the only option and don't support him" but there's never alternatives given and I don't know what an effective alternative could even be)

I think a good place to start that a lot of people are comfortable with is probably volunteering and petitioning for 3rd parties to make sure they Do have ballot access next year. So that ppl Can vote for someone else next year.

And yes, vote 3rd party this election. Or don't vote at all.

Besides that? Learn some basic defense and join protests. Support encampments and do things leftists say like join a union and organize your own community whether it be your schoolmates, coworkers, or all your friends and their friends.

Y'all see the news right?

Censorship and propaganda are rampant right now, along with transphobia and racism and even Nazis are back. Tensions are high to say the least and everyone is worked up about the election and Israel.

Figure out what you wish someone else would do and then do it. Is that de-arresting protesters? Organizing a bail fund, fighting cops and throwing tear gas back at them when they make things violent?

There's a lot to fight against and even more to fight for. Find what's worth fighting for (to you) and actually start fighting for it. Don't let cops or your principal or boss or anyone else stop you.

I think one of the most important things we can do right now is remind the government and those that serve the government that they won't take our rights so easily. That if they want to silence us then we're gonna make sure it'll hurt more than it'll help. That we can and will fight back.

And that's why it's so vital that we show them we won't settle either. We won't vote for Biden.

We settled for Clinton and look where that got us.

Does it feel like voting for more and more conservative blue candidates actually helped prevent harm? Or does it feel like you were manipulated and lied to?

Gonna be real, it feels like the government is a manipulative abuser and we're all it's gaslit victims who don't want to believe things are that bad just cuz he killed someone else instead of us.

Which is like...it doesn't mean good things for us that our government could do that and we'd rationalize it, you know?

How we want to get out of this fucked up dynamic is up to us. We work, we pay taxes, we listen to the governments rule of law, and still our government won't codify rights, our trans friends are being abused by the government, or it's banning apps with censorship. And the whole time it's telling us to shut up and be grateful it isn't worse.

Abusers never ever tell you that it could be better too. And they don't want you to know that. Cuz then you leave. And if you leave then they can't manipulate and abuse you.

So yeah. They'll shit on us for doing Anything that doesn't result in us staying, for doing anything that results in us choosing our own well being instead of theirs.

But that's what we need to do.

And you need support before you do that. That's what organizing is. It's like calling the besties who hype you up to leave your shitty ex. Except it's a bunch of people agreeing to support each other when they choose to stand up for something. Organizing is making sure there are people watching back and making sure if one of you is harmed or arrested that there'll be someone there to help bail you out.

The more people you have to bail you out, the less you have to worry about being outnumbered, spoken over, or physically stopped with force.

So yeah. Do that.

Organize. I hope I stressed that enough. The people on our front lines need us to be there for them as much we need Them to keep fighting for us.

Also since I'm here: make sure you and your friends don't talk shit about protesters even when they get violent and break shit. It's not abuse when the victim finally hits back at their abuser, it's self defense.

[lesbicosmos]

day 1 of @painlandweek !!

day 1 prompt: language of love / sickfic

summary: charles gets hit by a witch's spell that was originally intended for edwin. edwin takes care of him in the aftermath.

notes: title from unknown/nth by hozier <33

also on ao3!!

i could break beneath the weight of the goodness, love, i still carry for you

Ghosts couldn’t get ill – at least, not in the traditional sense. They had no immune system to be affected, so they never had anything to worry about in terms of typical human diseases. It was possible, however, for a ghost’s physical form to be altered by supernatural intervention: curses, enchantments, hexes, and the like; and the side effects of these could resemble what a ghost would recognise as sickness or injury.

Running a detective agency for troubled ghosts meant Charles and Edwin had dealt with their fair share of paranormal maladies. Luckily for them, Edwin’s extensive collection of medical tomes and the many spells he had learned over the years were usually just the thing they required to help the soul in need. It was usually a client; it was very rare that the soul in need was either of the two of them – and it never happened on any of their ‘typical’ cases.

Their current case was not a typical one.

They had thought they were done with witches after the pandemonium with Esther Finch back in Port Townsend, but they could not have been more wrong. They were currently fighting another one, who was ironically also trying to trap ghosts – not to hook them up to her spectral energy super-battery, but to use them as test subjects for the potions and spells she invented. They were ‘free guinea pigs’, she had claimed. ‘An abundant supply.’ Of course, the Dead Boy Detectives Agency couldn’t have that. When they had a young woman who had died sometime in the 1960s come by the office to tell them about her 18th century girlfriend who had been kidnapped, they immediately took the case.

So, several days of researching and keeping watch on the witch later, the four detectives had arrived at her house, prepared for anything. They had distracted her for long enough for Charles to sneak down into her cellar and rescue the ghosts trapped down there in iron cages, including their client’s partner. Now all they had to do was get rid of this witch once and for all, or at least come to an agreement. They didn’t enjoy having to take drastic measures against those who wronged their clients, but sometimes they were necessary.

The four of them were outside in the garden facing the witch, who didn’t look alarmed in the slightest. She wasn’t amused, though. She hadn’t got that manic grin on her face that Esther had when she was torturing souls. No, this witch clearly just wanted the four of them out of her way. And evidently she was more than willing to use force. As Crystal gripped her arm, slipping into her mind, Edwin prepared a spell. He was focusing intently, desperately trying to ensure it was ready for when Crystal let the witch go. Unfortunately for him, the witch also had psychic abilities, and was much more efficient at fighting back against Crystal than they had anticipated. She broke free of her grasp, Crystal falling backwards into Niko, and the witch turned to Edwin.

He was still crouched on the floor, swirling a blue liquid in a vial and muttering something in Latin, and hadn’t had the chance to move or attack before the witch made her move, muttering something in an ancient tongue and throwing her hand forwards in front of her.

Edwin shut his eyes tightly out of instinct, preparing for whatever this witch had cooked up for him in her mind.

“Edwin!” he heard Charles scream.

He heard footsteps quickly approaching, presumably the witch drawing closer to increase the strength of her attack. A green light shot forwards, so bright Edwin could almost see it through his eyelids. A strangled gasp echoed around the walls of the garden as ghostly body collided with concrete patio.

Edwin’s eyes burst open at the gasp that was most pointedly not his own.

Directly in front of him, Charles lay on the ground unmoving, his cricket bat thrown aside. A green glow gently faded from his chest, where the spell had clearly hit him square-on.

“Charles!” Crystal shouted, moving to run to him, then retreating when the witch turned instead to her, her hand still pulsing with the magical light.

The witch simply laughed. Edwin fell to his knees beside Charles, who still hadn’t moved a muscle since he collapsed.

“Charles!” Edwin gasped, out of breath and panicked. “Charles, can you hear me?”

Edwin gently shook Charles’s shoulders, and his eyes slowly opened, looking up. Then, his eyes moved downward, and Edwin followed his line of sight until he reached his hand, where Charles was weakly giving a thumbs up.

Fundamentally, Charles was fine. He couldn’t feel any pain, aside from the dull ache of where the spell had hit him directly. It wasn’t that he couldn’t move, only that it suddenly felt as though he weighed several dozen times more than he did before. Even lifting his hand to signal to Edwin had made him feel as though he was trying to deadlift an elephant. It was strange, feeling this sensation of exhaustion, something he had not physically felt in so long. He’d felt it mentally, emotionally; there had been many times he’d gone to sleep – or, at least, the closest a ghost could get to a state of rest – but he’d never felt the tiredness so viscerally, never ached all over just to move.

“Can you talk?”

He tried. It didn’t work. Not only was it too much to open his mouth, but he came to realise he couldn’t even breathe. When he tried, it was even worse than lifting his hand, this time as though he had the weight of a building sitting on top of his chest. It wasn’t that he needed to breathe. He hadn’t actually absorbed oxygen into his lungs since that cold night in the attic, but it was their strange ghostly equivalent to breathing that allowed him to speak, and right now he couldn’t.

Charles’s head moved ever so slightly from side to side. That was just manageable.

“Not full paralysis, okay…” Edwin muttered under his breath, looking Charles up and down. “You’re going to be okay,” he said, this time looking him in the eyes.

Edwin didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t leave Charles in this state, but there was still a ghost-napping witch to deal with. But if he didn’t know the specifics of the spell Charles was hit with, he couldn’t know what the full effects would be. He could be off trying to deal with the witch while Charles ‘s spectral form faded away for all he knew, unnoticed in the silence. He began to panic. He needed books, but all the volumes he could think of that would help were back at the office. He looked up to Crystal and Niko, who were still facing the witch.

All of a sudden she dashed off, through a gap in the hedges at the edge of the garden.

“Get him back to the office,” Crystal told Edwin. “We’ll deal with her.”

“Are you sure?”

“We’ve got this, you go and help him!"

Edwin hurled the vial he had finished concocting to Niko, who caught it in one hand.

“Throw that at her. Make sure it smashes, and make sure you do it on the property. It should trap her here for now, we’ll figure out what to do with her another time.”

The girls nodded, turning and following the path the witch took out of the garden and out of sight. Edwin turned back to Charles.

“I’m going to lift you up now,” he said.

Charles didn’t do anything to argue – not that he physically could – so Edwin got his footing before sliding one arm under Charles’s shoulders and the other under his knees, lifting him up.

Something in Charles’s mind had expected that Edwin wouldn’t be able to lift him. He was far too heavy, too weighed down; Edwin was strong, but he wasn’t that strong. He had been wrong, of course. The spell hadn’t actually turned Charles to lead; it only felt like it had. His limbs fell straight downwards as Edwin carried him through the witch’s house to the huge mirror on the wall in the entranceway.

He stepped through it, and they were in their office within a second. Edwin hurriedly but gently lowered Charles down onto the small sofa.

Charles really didn’t like that he couldn’t breathe. He knew he didn’t need to, knew he hadn’t really breathed in years, but that didn’t stop the habit. He was panicking, and that only made him feel the need more. Soon, he was gasping, desperately trying to inhale but being unable to as his chest wouldn’t rise an inch.

Edwin had been carefully arranging his limbs on the sofa, desperate to make him as comfortable as possible. That helped calm him down, but it didn’t stop the attempts. He had to breathe. He needed to breathe. Not being able to reminded him of being under that lake, hiding beneath the surface for as long as he physically could to shield himself from the oncoming attacks from the boys he had once considered his closest friends. He so desperately wanted to reach out, to grab onto Edwin’s arm, but the most he could do was wriggle his fingers around.

Clearly noticing his distress, Edwin grabbed his hand and squeezed.

“Charles, you don’t need to breathe my dear. You’re okay. Just try and relax, I know it’s uncomfortable.”

Edwin’s voice grounded Charles, and he closed his eyes, focusing on the sound and the feeling of Edwin’s hand in his. He wished he could squeeze back, thank him for being there as always.

“Are you alright?” he asked once Charles was no longer trying to gasp for air.

Charles barely managed a nod. Edwin placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head before standing up, letting go of Charles’s hand and pacing over to his shelves. He thought for a moment before reaching out and grabbing a book, an old one with yellowing pages and a dark purple cover. He flicked through, his eyes darting back and forth across the pages until he found what he was looking for.

“I think it was a paralysis hex gone somewhat wrong,” he explained, moving back over to Charles and sitting on the sofa beside him, the book open on his lap. “It’s a specific type of witchcraft, a spell which the caster has to specifically cater it to the intended victim. Since she forged the spell for me, it’s having a milder effect on you.”

This is mild? Charles thought. He would have groaned in annoyance if he physically could.

“It should wear off on its own, but I’m afraid it’s going to be several hours.”

Charles closed his eyes once more, rolling them as he did so. Edwin turned to place the book on the arm of the sofa, giving him another free hand to comfort Charles with. He placed it gently on his chest.

“Can I do anything to help?” he asked.

Charles’s hand twitched next to Edwin’s thigh, moving ever so slowly towards him. Edwin looked at Charles’s eyes, and could tell by the soft pleading look he found there what he was reaching for. Edwin took his gloves off, reaching out to take Charles’s hand back into his own. He knew he would need the direct contact, the softness of skin-on-skin, the only true feeling he could have in his afterlife. Edwin gently stroked circles on the back of his hand in the repeating pattern he knew always calmed him down.

Edwin hated seeing Charles like this. He was always so energetic, constantly moving around wherever he was, barely ever stopping to relax. It felt wrong seeing him stuck so still, unable to move and unable to talk. It should have been me on the other end of that spell, Edwin thought. Charles’s endearing yet frustrating need to protect him had ended in suffering for him once again.

He was shaken out of his thoughts when he felt Charles squeeze his hand, just weakly. He turned to look at him at once, worried.

“What’s wrong?”

Charles managed to shake his head. Nothing was wrong, he was just trying to tell Edwin something. Holding his hand was perfect, just what he needed to ground him and ensure him he was still there, this ailment was temporary. But there was one other thing that would help even more; one thing that had helped Charles calm down and relax so many times since they had met, even if it had taken quite a few years for him to ask for it. He moved his eyes back and forth, hoping Edwin would notice, looking at him and then at the desk behind him, over and over until Edwin got the message.

Edwin turned his head to the desk. The only things on it were a stack of books, the ones Edwin was currently part-way through reading.

“The books?”

Charles nodded. Moving his head and face was becoming more bearable by now, so he managed to open his mouth just slightly - even though he still couldn’t talk, he managed to mouth something, and Edwing could easily make out what he was saying.

“Read to me,” he said soundlessly.

“Of course,” Edwin smiled.

It was strange, how much Edwin reading to him comforted Charles. It wasn’t even the book itself, not usually. What really meant so much to him was simply hearing Edwin’s voice, so gentle and only for him. He’d always thought he shouldn’t like it. It should remind him of the night he died, the night his life slipped away from him as this strange ghost boy read his favourite detective comic aloud. And it did remind him of that night, but that night wasn’t a bad memory for Charles, not really. The hours before the attic, the months of abuse from his father that led up to it…they were the bad memories, the ones Charles wishes he could forget. But the trauma of his death itself had been diminished by the presence of that kind boy, the boy who had become Charles’s everything. So yes, Edwin reading to him did remind him of his death, but it reminded him of the kindness of a stranger, of just why he had chosen this boy over heaven itself in the first place, of why he loved him. Edwin’s voice made him feel at home, more than the house he grew up in ever did.

Edwin stood up to pick up the book from the desk, but as he turned around he found Charles seemingly trying to shuffle around on the sofa.

“Charles, what are you doing?” he asked worriedly. “You’ll exhaust yourself.”

Charles’s eyes flicked to the space on the sofa beside him, his deep brown eyes looking into Edwin’s, asking a question.

“Ah,” Edwin realised. “Let me help.”

He placed the book on the floor in front of the sofa, kneeling down.

“Are you alright with me moving you?”

Charles nodded. Edwin repeated the movements he’d done at the witch’s house before: one arm under Charles’s knees; the other under his shoulders, and he lifted him just enough to move him further towards the back of the sofa, leaving space for Edwin to climb next to him.

That was just what Edwin did, sitting beside him and manoeuvring them so that Charles’s head rested on his chest, the way he would have been if he could have moved himself. His movement did seem to be improving gradually, and he shifted his own legs to tangle with Edwin’s. Edwin supposed it was because his legs were furthest from his chest, so didn’t suffer the effects of the hex as drastically.

Edwin intertwined his fingers with Charles’s, picking up the book with the other hand. He pressed another gentle kiss to the top of his head before beginning to read.

In addition to not suffering from normal illnesses, another thing ghosts didn’t do was sleep. Similar to the supernatural intervention however, they had their own complicated equivalent to restore their energy when required.

Neither of the two of them required it, though. And ghosts didn’t get sore throats from reading aloud for too long either, so Edwin read Charles the entire book. By the time they finished, the sun had already half-risen, a pinkish orange glow illuminating the office.

“How are you doing?” Edwin asked, after the first few minutes of silence in several hours.

“Brills,” Charles replied, his voice back, and as confident as always.

He snuggled impossibly closer to Edwin, burying his face in his chest.

“Wait,” Edwin said, pausing the gentle strokes of his hand up and down Charles’s arm. “When did the hex wear off?”

“About an hour ago,” Charles admitted, his voice slightly muffled against Edwin.

“Why did you not say something?” Edwin chuckled. “Or start breathing again?”

“Didn’t wanna interrupt you. I like your voice.”

Charles lifted his head slightly, rolling further onto his front to look up at Edwin, smiling.

Edwin laughed softly, smiling back.

“Thank you,” Charles said. “For doing that.”

“Of course, Charles,” Edwin held him somehow even closer. “You know I am always here for whatever you need.”

“I’m always here for you too,” Charles assured.

“Yes, well…it was very reckless of you to jump in front of that hex for me.”

“What was I supposed to do? You said it yourself, it had a weakened effect on me. It would’ve been worse on you.”

“Well, yes I suppose, but my point still stands.”

“Sorry love but there’s nothing you can do to stop me. I’ll always jump in front of witches’ curses for you,” Charles kissed the tip of Edwin’s nose softly.

Edwin sighed. He knew there was no arguing with Charles, ever-protective as he was.

“Well, did you enjoy the book?” he asked, changing the subject before he thought too much about the extent of Charles’s devotion to him and started to feel like crying over how much he loved the charming impulsive boy he got to call his boyfriend.

“Oh. Uhh…” Charles trailed off.

“Did you pay attention to the plot at all?” Edwin laughed.

“Your voice is very relaxing.”

Charles didn’t know how else to answer. It was the truth – what was being read wasn’t important, only that it was Edwin reading it. Edwin shook his head slightly, the smile never leaving his face.

“I suppose I’ll just have to read it to you again, then,” Edwin faked disappointment.

“Oh no,” said Charles, dramatically leaning backwards to put his hand over his heart in faux shock before leaning in to kiss Edwin.

Just as their lips brushed, the front door to the office burst open. Both of them sat up on the sofa to see Crystal and Niko running in.

“Oh, thank god you’re okay,” Crystal sighed, rushing forward to hug him.

Charles hugged back with his free arm, the other still wrapped around Edwin’s waist, and Crystal squeezed next to them on the sofa. Niko knelt on the floor in front of them.

“’Course I am,” he said proudly. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, and I had Edwin to look after me.”

Charles turned to face Edwin, his signature smile plastered across his face. Edwin could only grin back.

“The hex faded on its own, Charles,” he said. “I did nothing.”

“You read to me! That helped.”

“Aww,” Niko smiled.

“How did you two get on last night then?” Charles asked the girls.

“We were done in like an hour,” Niko explained.

“Yeah, that potion you made worked its magic and she couldn’t leave.”

“I’m glad.”

“We went back to Crystal’s after. We figured Charles would want some time to get better before we came barging in here.”

“Thanks Niko,” said Charles.

“We’re just glad you’re alright,” Crystal squeezed his arm.

“I’m aces, don’t worry.”

Charles leaned his head on Edwin’s shoulder, holding both him and Crystal close. The case wasn’t fully closed yet – they still had a witch trapped in her own house with all her equipment she could easily use to figure out a way to escape to deal with – but for now…yeah, for now they were aces.

[phantoms-lair]

Trying to Organize my writing brain, so writing this to get it out of my brain meats

FFXIV x BnHA

When Izuku is (second/third grade age) he and his mother are caught in one of the early instant villain attacks. And the guy who was tagged may have had enough secondary mutations to look like he had a heteromorphic quirk, but his actual quirk was a warper. And dosed up on trigger it was enough to warp the two people closest to him (Inko and Izuku) clear to another world

Inko and Izuku are zapped to Hydaelan and are quickly found by a minstrel who seems to have some kind of precog quirk and a man with a cat quirk

The two explain that they're on another world, this has happened before and usually sorts itself, but they're happy to help

It shows no signs of sorting itself out. The adventurer mentions he at least has a house he doesn't use often in Limsa, so offers to let them stay there

Inko and Izuku are flabbergasted to discover quirks flat out don't exist in this world. Inko is literally the only quirked person on the planet.

Izuku realized in this world being quirkless wouldn't stop him from being a hero!

He's bummed to learn he still can't be a hero because that's not a job here. Like there's adventurer, but that can run the gamut from errand boy to god-killer.

The adventurer (Aki Sha'gai) helps them settle in. He teaches them about this world and things like using Aetherite travel, and listens when Inko reminisces about her old friends and Izuku talks about heroes and quirk theory. When it becomes obvious they have no way home Inko decides to get a job and he gets her an interview at the Bismark. Her knowledge of 'Doman' cuisine gets her in the door instantly.

There's a bottle of Fantasia in the house. Their host said they were free to use it as he had no use for it, but didn't want to sell a gift.

Izuku had body image problems. Nothing directly tied to appearance, but spending a lot of his formative years being told his body was wrong stuck with him. He knows at one point he's going to use it, but tries to hold out.

He eventually gives in and after playing with races and gender presentation in his dream, ends up becoming a Mi'quote like Sha'gai-san. (Roegdalyn and Hrothgar just felt too far from his image to himself, Elezen too close, and he didn't want to be short forever to Lalafell was out. He basically coin-tossed between Mi'quote, Veira, and Au Ra)

Upon waking up his mother inquired about the change and panicking (still doesn't want to tell her about the bullying) blurts out that he wanted to look more for that Dad that had to travel for work but always came back and listened and cared for him, as opposed to the man who abandoned him without a second thought.

Inko cries because she didn't realize her separation from Hisashi had bothered him so much. Aki was just 'He sees me as a father?' and immediately becomes full Dad. Izuku's okay with this.

It actually takes years for Izuku to realize his new Da is this world's equivalent to All Might. (He heard stories of the Warrior of Light, but never by given name. And none of Da's friends call him that.

It's not until he take Inko and Izuku on a vacation that they hear him referred to as such and Izuku needs a bit to cope

Aki and Inko are not in a relationship, they're just co-raising a kid

Izuku starts studying Red Magic and hope to be an Adventurer and a member of the Scions (aka his Aunts and Uncles).

Meanwhile All For One repurposes the quirk that sent them there to turn it into Warp Gate. The destruction of the original quirk reverses it's effect. Izuku and Inko are home

Neither are as happy about that as they thought they'd be. But at least between his magic and his cat mutation no one's saying Izuku can't be a hero

Bakugou: Why are you a cat?!?!

Izuku still end up in Class 1-A, doing much better as he actually knows how to control his powers here.

USJ happens. Izuku has hi rapier and is ready to fight to the bitter end to protect his classmates

The air opens with a crack and the Warrior of Light breaks through, having been trying to find his son since he and Inko vanished off the face of the Earth

The League of Villains have a bad time

[jadeazora]

My versions of Lysandre and Sycamore headcanon (with some Diantha and Malva too)

Lysandre

One of his biggest pet peeves is those who have a slobbish demeanor about them, he absolutely hates sloppiness

Is quite musically talented (violin and piano)

Classy drunk, keeps his shit together a lot better than Sycamore

Pan, appreciates the beauty of all sexes and genders, has had an on/off thing with Sycamore before and is currently dating Malva, biggest celebrity crush on Diantha tho (she turned him down)

Diantha knows he's trouble, all of the 🚩🚩🚩 vibes on-sight.

His whole relationship with Malva is her going "I can make him worse lol 😈" (this is a woman who, in Masters, stood by and smiled as he implicitly executed two Rocket grunts. There's something definitely wrong with her too.)

Roughly the alignment chart we're looking at:

All manner of misfortune (violence, murder, madness) runs in the family, originating around the time of AZ and the Ultimate Weapon, seen as something like a curse, particularly on the male side. As such, Lys is the last of AZ's descendants.

Dealt with those sorts of intrusive thoughts by becoming a philanthropist in an attempt to counteract them, but it ended up having the opposite effect, fueling them and making them worse instead. (He was always destined to fall.)

He had convinced himself of a feeling of disconnect with him using the Ultimate Weapon and those that would die, but he would end up becoming directly responsible for the death of the one who became the Lumiose Ghost Girl. It wasn't initially his intention to kill her, he wanted to try to convince her to not go public over the Holocaster's spyware/Flare's schemes, and wasn't able to, leaving him with little other choice than to silence her. (He's unaware of her haunting, or that she's looking for him.) Probably the closest he's been to realizing he needed to STOP, but Malva was the worst person he could have called to confess to.

Has committed orchestrated a few murders "disappearances" since tho (some himself, some by other members of his organization, they're functionally a secret police), there were some people becoming more aware of Flare's activities and presence. It's said to be unsafe going into certain areas of Lumiose City at night.

Despite things between them being strained, still would prefer trying to save Sycamore and the children as "chosen ones", by force if he has to. They have to come around eventually that things were better for the future this way, right?

Sycamore:

Is an absolute, clumsy menace on rollerskates. Has nearly cracked a rib more than once.

Lysandre gifted him those bright red-orange socks

Party drunk. More than once, Lys has had to half-drag, half-carry him to his Cafe before to get him something to help sober him up

Seriously, do not trust this man with any alcohol

Sina and Dexio have also had to deal with this (they do get "apology pay")

Disaster bi, disaster magnet (probably what attracted him to Lysandre in the first place)

Diantha had (quietly) warned him about Lysandre, while the man was in the room, while they were dating. Sycamore just mentally standing there dying from awkwardness.

Masks a more jaded streak from failing to dissuade Lysandre of his misanthropic views, and plays oblivious when they're around each other now. (He's also somewhat aware of Lysandre's end goal, tho not really of the "when" or the "how.")

He's not at the point where he wants his old friend dead despite his awareness of Lysandre's intentions, but there is the looming horrifying thought that it just might be in Kalos's best interest if he were. He hates it, especially that he's not strong enough a Trainer to stop Lysandre himself.

Not sure if learning of Lysandre/Flare "disappearing" a few people would be enough to push him over the edge fully on that tho. (He still harbors some feelings that he's been trying to shove down.)

It really bothers him having Calem and Serena basically fight his battle there, there's a good amount of self-loathing over his failure to talk some sense into his friend and that the kids are doing the adults' job.