#like someone once said the world as a place of existence is fair its just some humans doing unfair shit out there

[glimpsesofeuterpe]

even if it is the wrong timeline I'm glad we got to meet at least

feliix i am glad too!

[navybrat817]

His Favorite Person

Pairing: Librarian!Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Summary: You want to be more than friends with Ari.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff, sweetness, friends to lovers (of sorts), Ari Levinson (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @lovebittenbyevans requested Librarian AU, friends to lovers with Ari, and to dig his Toes in the Sand (fluff) with prompt #7 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You stood on your tiptoes to reach a book on the top shelf. You huffed out a breath and tried to stretch a little bit more, but your fingers barely skimmed the spine. It would’ve been easier to ask for some help, but you didn’t want to bother Ari. You bothered him enough during his shifts.

You should’ve known he was only standing a few feet away, watching the display with a smirk on his ridiculously handsome face. “Need some help?” He asked.

Managing not to fall into the shelf from the slight scare, you pointed to the book you tried and failed to grab. “If you wouldn’t mind?” You asked, dragging your eyes from his chest to his eyes. It was like looking into a storm, but warmth lingered in a way that told you not to fear any destruction left in its wake. “Please?”

Rugged was the word that came to mind whenever you glanced at him. A dark beard to match his long hair and jeans that showed off his large thighs, he even had the sleeves of his tight shirt rolled up so you could see his veins. The man could've easily passed for an adventurer instead of a librarian and you were certain he caught you staring at him more than once.

It wasn’t polite to stare, but was it fair for him to be so good looking?

“Don’t mind at all,” he said, plucking it from the shelf and placing it in your waiting hand. “You could’ve just asked me to grab it from the start, but you just had to be stubborn.”

“I wasn’t being stubborn,” you argued. He raised an eyebrow in response. “You just have a lot to do and I didn’t want to bother you,” you said, hugging the book to your chest.

“You were being stubborn, you’ve never once bothered me, and it’s part of my job to help.” Ari made a show of looking around, his silky hair flowing with the motion. “But I guess you’re right. I have so much to do since it’s so crowded today,” he joked.

It wasn’t a secret that the library was hit and miss in town. So many wanted their stories electronically and didn’t appreciate the feel of a book in their hands. Ari did what he could though since he took over as head librarian. Between overseeing the daily operations and managing his employees, he took his job seriously. You had no doubt he’d bring a much needed spark back to the place.

“Yeah, well, thanks for your help,” you said.

“Another romance novel, huh? Didn’t you just bring one back today?”

Your face grew warm before you nodded. Of course, he’d notice that. “You know me,” you mumbled, hugging the book tighter.

He took a step closer, searching your face with a gentle gaze. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with reading what you love.”

There was no judgement in his eyes and that made the corner of your lips lift in a smile. “I appreciate that.”

Being single, reading books like that allowed you to dive into various worlds and experience love. You could immerse yourself and imagine having a partner who would not only overcome obstacles with you, but would ensure that there would be a happily ever after. In a world often dark and negative, the escape gave you hope that one day you'd manage to find someone who could love you so deeply. You didn't want to think that romance only existed in books.

If only you were brave enough to take a chance and ask Ari out.

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you,” you began, walking beside him to head to the front desk. He took up a good portion of the aisle with his beefy frame and you had to tell yourself again not to stare. “I spoke with my boss about adjusting my hours and they approved it! I can do Story Time on Tuesdays.”

“That’s great!” The smile on Ari’s face was worth moving your schedule around. “I really appreciate you doing that for me. I owe you one.”

You wished you would’ve teasingly suggested a date as a form of payment, but you shrugged. “You don’t owe me anything. You’re my friend and that’s what friends do,” you said, cringing inwardly. It sounded lame to your ears.

“Yeah. Friends.” His smile faded slightly as he walked around the counter. “Just this book today, right?” He asked, slipping into his professional tone. Still pleasant to hear, but a touch of the usual warmth was gone. Like you were just like every other person who walked into the library.

“Yeah,” you replied, passing over your library card. “Did I say something wrong?” You added, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No, you didn’t,” he said, his large hand placing your card on top of the book. He passed it over to you and you couldn’t ignore the jolt of electricity that moved through you when your fingers touched. “Why would you think that?”

“It’s just…” Putting him on the spot wasn’t your intention and you didn’t want to point out his slight change in demeanor. “You do consider us friends, right?”

You didn't have a lot of close friends, but you considered Ari to be one of them. At the very least, he was friendly with you. It was possible that you read things wrong. Engrossing yourself in one too many books could’ve blurred your version of reality.

“Of course, I do. You’re my favorite person,” he replied. You leaned on the counter with a relieved and dopey smile at his statement. Were you really his favorite person? “But just because you’re my favorite person doesn’t mean I have to be yours.”

“But you are my favorite person,” you blurted out, covering your mouth when your voice echoed. “Sorry,” you added in a hushed whisper. It was a library. You needed to be somewhat quiet.

He chuckled and leaned on the counter, too, his eyes zeroed on you. “Oh, I am, am I? So, you don't actually come here to borrow romance novels. You’re just really looking for an excuse to see me.”

Your heart pounded, but you took a breath to keep your cool and hopefully not make a fool out of yourself. “I come here for the books and to see you, Ari,” you said carefully, the corner of your lip twitching in a smile. “But you obviously want to see me, too, otherwise you wouldn’t have asked me to do Story Time.”

“Well, yeah,” he smirked before softly adding, “Seeing you is the best part of my day.”

How did your knees not buckle? “It is?”

“Yeah, it is.” He smiled, almost to himself. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did, but you can ask me another question,” you teased.

He stretched across the counter a bit more. “If I'm your favorite person and you're mine, why haven't we gone on a date?”

For a moment, it felt like the room sucked up all the oxygen. Breathing should've been natural to do, but you couldn't inhale as you stared at him. Glancing down at the book to get your bearings, it dared you to take a chance. A leap of faith. With a deep breath, you did.

“Because I've been waiting for you to ask me out and you haven't yet. And I've been too chicken to ask you myself,” you replied. You regretted the words the moment he stood up straight, his expression unreadable. He didn’t actually want that, did he? “I’m sorry. Forget I said that. Please.”

A second passed and his lips slightly parted, but he didn't speak. His silence said it all. Nodding with a heavy heart, you turned to walk away from the counter. You could lick your wounds later as you read another happily ever after.

“Shit. Wait.” Ari moved with impressive speed to block your path, his grip gentle on your arms to stop you. “Did you mean it? You really want to go on a date with me?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I do, but I understand if-”

“Thank fuck,” he sighed, your eyes rounding at his words. “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for days and I got worried there for a moment with the ‘friends’ comment that you didn't want anything beyond friendship.”

Your stomach did somersaults. Ari liked you. He wanted to ask you out. God, you almost ruined things before they started. “I’m sorry I worried you, but trust me. I'm very interested in you, Ari,” you smiled, forgetting you were in the library as you stepped closer. “And if you ask me, some of the best romances come from friendships.”

“They do.” He smiled back, his cerelain eyes lit up like yours. “And our story will be more romantic than any of those books you’ve been reading.”

Biting your lip, you watched as his gaze dropped to your mouth. What would it feel like if he bit your lip? “I don’t know. That’s a pretty tall order.”

He brought his mouth to your ear. “I’m a very determined man,” he whispered. No doubt he felt you tremble in his grasp. “Saturday night?”

“It’s a date.”

A date and the beginning of your love story.

We know this man would plan the perfect date, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[thepersonnamedsam]

mornings spent well - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x reader (basically gn, just one mention as bride)

summary: You woke up in a bed, where the sheets felt like a bad night out with your friends. And that’s exactly what happened the night before. 

pt. 2 / pt. 3

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none, maybe a bit angst, generally fluff, google translated french

note: it’s weird writing about existing people, so just ignore the awkwardness plus it’s not proofread 

masterlist / taglist

Your head was spinning, and you felt like you would throw up any second if you moved your body more. You closed your eyes in hopes the world would stop spinning. Breath in, breathe out. You tried to remember what happened last night, but all that came to your mind, or more your mouth, was that awful taste of tequila.

You didn’t like tequila, its taste is weird, you don’t understand the salt and lime thing and it makes you do questionable choices. Like waking up in someone’s bed. That’s exactly what happened, because those sheets weren’t itching like crazy, and they actually felt cozy.

You lifted those cozy sheets to discover nothing. You weren’t naked, you were wearing shirt and underpants? And your socks are still on? Who undressed you last night and they were too polite to actually undress you? Not that you complained, you’d rather wear this than nothing.

With a sigh you wanted to get up without puking. But the moment you were ready to take the first step of sitting up the door opened.

You looked to your left and there was an empty bedside. The covers were pulled back and you saw the crease in the pillow, obviously from someone sleeping on it. You still weren’t sure where you were. This wasn’t the bedroom of your best friend nor was it of someone you knew and had been at their home.

The person standing in the doorway watched your every move, from looking at the bedside to wandering your gaze over the bedroom and finally landing on him. He saw you looking at him and locking eyes. A familiar feeling overtook both of your bodies, and you just couldn’t place what that feeling was.

The handsome man was still looking at you and you couldn’t lift your gaze from him as well. His hand reached his neck where he scratched it. As he took his hand back down you saw it, a silver wedding band. You slept in a married mans bed?! You lifted both your hands to your face to rub your eyes and that’s when your silver wedding band sprung in your eyes.

You had a wedding band? And the same one as the man standing in the doorway?

He cleared his throat and you looked at him. “This is awkward”, he said as he was scratching his neck once again, this time with his right hand. You cleared your throat too, nut trusting your voice after too much tequila from last night.

“Qu’est-ce qu’on va faire, merde. What are we gonna do, shit.” So, he spoke French. But you still didn’t know his name. “I guess, I mean looking at the evidence on our hands, I guess we are married?” Your voice went quieter the more you spoke. You were still hoping it wasn’t true or a dream, but his answer let those hopes disappear in a second.

“Oui, I guess we are married. You woke up in my bed and we both have a ring on our ring finger, that counts as something right?”

You let your body hit the mattress. Your head still hurting, not spinning as much, but still hurting like a bitch. And it made processing the new information very hard. “Okay, so let me get it straight; we don’t know each other, but we got married last night?” Your questionable look made him scoff.

“I know you, what are you talking about?” Now it was you who was scoffing. What did he mean by ‘I know you’? You were thinking hard, where could you have seen this man before. “Charles, Charles Leclerc, we met last week in that coffee shop where you work, and you gave me your number on the coffee cup? Do you recall?”

It hit you like a brick, of course you remember! You couldn’t believe you forgot that gorgeous face. You gave him your number, but he never texted you.

“You never texted me”, you stated. His face twisted into an apologetic look. “I texted you last night?” He was shrugging and you could see his whole upper body tense under the action. This man was built like a Greek statue. “I was in this club with my friends, and I was feeling lonely, that’s when I remembered I had put your number into my phone, so I texted you.”

“And what happened next?”, you had to ask, how did they go form texting to marrying? “You showed up and we took some tequila shots and that’s all I can remember.” His face said it all, the look of confusion and sorrowness. He didn’t know how they got from shots to this.

This was a disaster. All of this is not how you like to spend your mornings. And he didn’t like it that much as well.  

He lifted his body from the doorframe and started to walk towards you. He was just a breathtaking view. “Au moins j’ai épousé une belle mariée. At least I married a beautiful bride.”

He looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing on this planet. And he thought you were, he thought it the moment he saw you behind the coffee machine. He was so glad he discovered your number on his cup, because he was too afraid to ask for it. Though he was confident in most of his tasks, especially girls, he just couldn’t seem to find his confidence when he first looked at you.

He has no clue how he ended up marrying you a week later. He asked himself where the hell you two could’ve gotten married. You were in Monaco and not Las Vegas. Did you just go to the registry office and asked to be married? You were drunk as hell; how would any civil servant legally marry you? Were you even legally married? You were just wearing rings, that doesn’t mean you two actually got married.

His body hit the bed as he sat down, and you felt the mattress dip down on his side. And as he took his phone form the bedside table you admired his back. His muscles flexing under his every move. Fascinated by his back you didn’t notice how he had sighed multiple times after another.

“We are legally married; I just found the certificate in my emails.” His head now turned to look at you. His eyes staring into yours. Realization hit, you were no longer single and are actually married to this man in front of you. You blinked, once, twice, a hundred times maybe, you didn’t know. 

You couldn’t believe it, you were married. “Do you think we should like, get a divorce?”, your voice was shy, you didn’t want to insult him. You didn’t want him to feel like you wouldn’t be married to him. Because you would. 

Would you not have married him if you weren't drunk? Because he would have. He would marry you again in heartbeat. “If you want to, we have to be married for at least 12 months until we can get a divorce. I say we at least try to live a life as a married couple?” He looked at you with hopeful eyes. And you couldn’t say no to those eyes, it would be cruel. 

“12 months? How do you know that?” - “ I just googled it”, he shrugged his shoulders again. “I guess we could try, I don’t think I would mind it”, your voice once more shy, not sure if he heard what you just said. His eyes lit up; “Really? You would try?” You smiled at him and just nodded your head. 

“Can I kiss you?”, he asked with hopeful eyes. You nodded again and before you even closed your eyes, his body was turned towards you and his lips on yours. His lips as soft as a cloud and the kiss so sweet like sugar. You couldn’t believe it, kissing you husband, what a weird sentence going through your brain. 

“I guess I have to put your new name into my contacts”, you laugh at him as he removed his lips from yours. He smiled and said: “And what would that be?” As you typed in his new contact name he tried to sneak a glance but he didn’t succeed. Husband was now gracing the top of they're messenger chat. 

He smiled as soon as he saw it. And he couldn’t stop smiling. He was smiling like a little boy who just got ice cream. His face even started hurting a bit after smiling so much. He was sure he’d have muscle ache the next day. But you were smiling too. He was making you happy and you didn’t know how or why. He just did and you were content with that. You didn’t question why your heart fluttered every time you looked at him or how he made you smile with just a short glance. Everything just felt normal and right, like it had been that way for ages. 

°°°

next part

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 13 - Sex, Drugs, & Rock n Roll

Summary: Up and coming Rockstar Eddie meets his dream girl on Corroded Coffin's first tour. And she's nothing like what he thought she'd be like...

Word Count: 991

Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie x Pornstar!Reader

Rating: T - I KNOW LISTEN BEAR WITH ME...we're playing with the oxymoron ok? ITS NOT ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP

Warnings/Themes: minor discussion of the rockstar/pornstar life (of which I have no experience), mention of smut but nothing graphic, strangers to...somethings, AU within an AU, satire, metafiction, angst, fluff, friendship

Note: Keeping in theme with Saturdays tying into my existing series, this entry takes place in the dream-AU that I just established in the last chapter of my series Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction, which is a story about Eddie realizing that he's been written into a crossover fanfiction with his favorite fictional character (you) from a cult classic television show called Port Geneva (which exists in-universe but obviously was made up by me). Does it sound like a headache? Because it probably is. STFF is EddiexFem!Reader. But its fun and if you're willing to give it a shot...idk I'm biased but 10/10 recommend.

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you didn’t start on Day 1, you can still join!

Tagging: @the-unforgivenn at her request.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

If someone would've told Eddie that he would meet his favorite porn star--let alone sleep with them--he would've said they were delusional.

But there you had been.

In the pit at one of the shows on their first tour. A face and body he'd seen dozens, if not hundreds, of times on tapes from the adult section at Family Video.

Someone he'd convinced himself he loved, in some weird and desperate way; the world was unforgiving and you were reliably in the VCR anytime he needed you, so could you blame him?

He'd intended to find you after the show, but you had the guts to come and find them first. To tell them you'd been a fan of theirs after seeing them at the state fair last year.

Then one thing led to another...

It was wild, what coincidences and experiences his rising fame brought to him, especially in a dinky town like Port Geneva.

"It's not that dinky," you laughed. You were curled on your side, hand tucked under your head, staring at him like he’d just hung the stars. Maybe he had; he’d made you scream, after all.

A feat he was pretty proud of, actually.

“I’d never even heard of this place before coming here,” he scoffed in return. "Couldn't even tell you what state we're in."

You hummed, “it's funny how you'd never heard of this town but you recognized me.”

You'd brought it up more than once downstairs at the hotel bar. Disbelief that he knew your face when the whiskey had loosened his tongue enough to admit it. Almost to the point of self-deprecation.

“It’s just a job,” you explained. “It pays the bills. Makes relationships hard. But I have a little trinket shop in town. M'sure it’d be closed by now if I didn’t get those checks.”

And whatever stories he'd made up about you in his head before to convince himself it was ok to sort of be hopelessly in love with someone on the other side of his television screen were soon replaced with facts about the real you.

The reality of this situation made him, in contrast, feel almost too embarrassed by himself and his so-called fame. You, happy to stay here unknown, and him, riding his rising star all the way to the top if he could.

There was a long way to go.

”Well I’m surprised you’d heard of us,” Eddie scoffed. “We’ve only had one or two singles on the radio. We don’t even sell out our shows.”

“You will.”

“You have a lot of faith in us.”

“You don’t?”

“I feel like we’d do better if I still sold weed at the merch table before our gigs.” He smiled as you laughed, genuine joy radiating in his heart to see it.

“That’d get people in the door,” you agreed. You poked his cheek. "I forgot to get a t-shirt, by the way. Was too busy chasing after you like some hopeless fangirl to stop."

This was how it’d been all night. Nothing like he expected.

None of it was, actually.

It had been a whirlwind and he knew he wasn't the only one who felt like that. One day they were managing their own shit, going from state fair to state fair on their real first "tour." Then they had music on the radio and a manager and were on their way to making their first album...eventually.

Albums don't make money, Phil had said, shocking them all when Eddie had asked about it. Touring does.

They'd been offered uppers when they were tired, downers when they got too riled up. There was more money thrown around than any of them had seen their whole lives. And then there was a stern discussion where they had to decide what their future looked like and if they were in it for the long run.

They were just a bunch of guys in their 20s...and they had to decide their whole future right now.

But tonight's show was the first where he actually felt in command of the stage and not just like he was playing pretend.

He and his friends finally got their dream.

People knew them, knew their music, some people even sang along.

You hadn't even been the only one to approach them after the show.

Did they even deserve it?

"I'm just a guy from Hawkins," he whispered to you. "Waiting to wake up from this dream or for them to send me back."

Or something else. There was a lingering feeling that there was just something else waiting for the penny to drop.

Eddie continued spilling his soul to you, in hushed whispers across the pillows, about his hopes and fears, and before he could get to a point where he was certain he was about to cry...you crossed the distance and pressed a kiss to his lips.

It could have been a shut up, you talk too much kind of kiss, but there was something so soothing about it, about the way you caressed his cheek and dropped tiny pecks against his mouth when all was said and done. Two kindred spirits, finding their way to each other in a mess of uncertainty.

"The future is scary," you told him. "But you have to be ok with the choices that you make."

"Do you have any regrets?" he asked.

"Maybe. But then I wouldn't have gotten to meet you." You looked bashful for a second and then rubbed a hand over your face. "Yeah. The rockstar and the pornstar...definitely power couple material."

"We could be. They could write stories about us one day."

"Eddie, it's a one-night stand."

"Doesn't have to be."

"And who is this they you speak of."

"Our adoring fans."

"Uh huh." You snorted. "You have to buy me dinner first before we have some epic love story worthy of stories written about us."

Eddie just smiled.

"How about breakfast?"

[blue-razzslushie]

My HL AU Rewrite: Ancient Magic [Analysis/Deep Dive] 🔥

I've been real excited to post this onto my page for a hot second. I wanted to wait until I finished getting my references drawn, since I've had art decline and was trying to focus on the MC drawings I did; and all of my ideas so far strung together to become fluid and tie together. I love doing things like this and in the future I will be adding what is written here into my art and lore As in I'm going to start making lil comics and such instead of just drawing my MC over and over. so without further ado, let's get started! !

[PLEASE NOTE: what is here isn't canon nor apart of Hogwarts Legacy or Harry Potter Lore. So if something isn't Accurate, don't attack me for it ^^]

Part 1: A Spiritual Start

So even in the Canon story of Hogwarts Legacy, we never really got a full beginning on how the magic existed in the first place. And to also be fair, I've basically had nothing as well. but I came up with a small idea of its origin, but honestly it most likely to be susceptible to change if I find any more ideas! But I would love to hear if anyone else has a good idea!

As already known, since the beginning of ancient times witches and wizards have been known to be able to act upon and hone magic. However, the soul of a witch and wizard controls how powerful and how controlled the magic is. In special cases, EXTREMELY rare, special cases; the soul of a Witch or Wizard is so strong, so powerful, they can dig further into their magic capabilities then others. Otherwise known as Ancient magic.

This magic is a bit different then the typical spells, They connect directly to the user themself. The magic adapting to the personality, emotions, quirks, and overall mindset of the individual. For example, someone who's creative that has the ancient magic ability could have the power to create structures or make their ideas come to life at the blink of an eye. . . So on so fourth. One thing I might add, These individuals practically have no control over what magic they possess. Only way it may change is if the mind of the user drastically changed over time, or evolves in any way shape or form. Since the magic is imbedded into the vessel of who posseses it, it's almost an instinctual tool.

Part 2: the Tale of 4 "Saints" and a "Sinner"

just as in the canon lore of the Keepers, they all had the ability to see and use Ancient magic. Percival Rackham, Charles Rookwood, Niamh Fitzgerald, and San Bakar all had about the same mindset, they had about the same beliefs, goals, and morals. Therefore, Their Ancient magic was about the same. They had some differences, for example Niamh Fitzgerald had a somewhat more creative personality then the others. Which further on in the game goes into when she made her unique trial in the world of a storybook. But, Nevertheless with their shared ability with ancient magic they concluded they way they used it was the only way to use it, if at all. They all had a small fear, a caution if you will about this ability apparently nobody else had. So they were cautious and very rarely used it, however. . . Remember how I said the magic is instinctually used earlier? That came in hand when they stumbled across a small hamlet enduring a drought, they had the ability to try and help. . . So why shouldn't they? They proceeded to use their magic to fix the drought, unbenouced to them a small girl was looking at them in awe. She could see what they did. . .

That girl, Isadora Morganach, came to Hogwarts late as a fifth year later on in life. And coincidentally shared the ability to see ancient magic. Once this came to the attention of the Keepers, they took her under their wing to teach her about the "Proper way" to use Ancient magic. It worked for awhile, Isadora being persuaded to think the way the keepers do, therefore producing a rather similar type of magic to the older users. This all changed after Isadora's fathers depression got worse, taking a rather big mental toll on Isadora. As previously stated, The mental health and thought process of a user of ancient magic ties into the way the magic is used. After many attempts of trying to convince the Keepers to experiment with their magic to see if they could find a way to help her father, Isadora gave up. . . And began to doubt the keepers as friends, and also in the process began doubting their beliefs, making her own in how the magic should be used.

Now with a poor and fragile mental state Isadora currently had and on top of that beginning to experiment with a uncharted and unpredictable type of magic was. . . Not a very good combination to say the least. So once she managed to make the spell to "take away pain" it wasn't as full proof as originally expected. (And as you know the spell ends up taking away ALL emotions). The lore continues as canon, The keepers fight with isadora on the use of the magic, Isadora makes the repository, experiments on students, gets killed by San Bakar. Then the keepers make the trials and safeguard the magic and yada yada Bullshit. Despite making the trials, for all of their life and hundreds of years after, they never again heard of someone who possessed the power they had. That was until a black haired child with a resting bitch face entered the Map Chamber.

Part 3: The Tragedy of a Star Child

-Star Child // Adjective

"These children are naturally gifted, intuitive, often seem naive, often struggle with over-stimulation, and have a very pure heart."

Now onto my favorite part: Addressing the magic of my MC; Rory! I tried to put as much detail as possible!! And this part has the ART REFERENCES I MADE OH YEAHHH!!!

Rory from a young age always was a bit. . .different then others. Not just with ancient magic, as well as thinking differently and having almost nothing in common with people their age. [I swear to Merlin I'm not trying to make them a "not like other girls" MC just letting y'all know!!]. While others preferred to play tag or play hopscotch on the sidewalk, Rory always preferred to be alone, Reading books or just drawing. They developed their own ancient magic ability at a young age unbenouced to them, since until they met Professor Fig they didn't even know magic really existed. But their magic acts were always small, for example being able to make their candlelight brighter if they were reading in a dark place or at night. It was small things, mainly because they had no experience or knowledge of what they were doing. This went on for years, through the family split up to the Orphanage days, all the way until Professor Fig came into their life, then everything changed.

They learned about magic, got to know a few spells themself and a few offhand things like potions and their ingredients. Then on the way to Hogwarts, The dragon attack, the Portkey container, Gringotts. . . things began to take a different turn. With the new stresses of keeping Goblins, Ashwinders, Poachers and Other creepies away. Rory's magic began to develop, evolve to help them. It became like fire, a destructive yet protective force they could use to help defend themself. The choice of fire also represents Rory's personality, Fire is frequently used to symbolize wisdom, knowledge, and power as well as the emotions of anger. Rory themself is a smart kid, and despite that they always have had severe anger issues and have been prone to flying off the handle at times. When their emotions directly effect their magic, it goes unstable. Harming and burning anything around including themself.

As shown here

When their magic is controlled, they use their wand to create Cyclone fires if you will. Like the fire attack Poacher Executors use in battle. Over the course of the year they've managed to learn to control their anger a bit better and stay calm even when under the stresses of their now daily life. As well as figure out more ways to lie to their friends when they show up to class with clothes scorched.

FightOrFlight shipping my Beloved (I finally figured out a good ship name for Imelda and Rory so YAY)

I personally have little Headcanons for Rory regarding the fire, like when they are Agitated they can "huff out" blue bits of flames or smoke, Like a comical Dragon or something. >^<

But that's all I have on my rewrite so far, PLEASE LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!! :]

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Chapter Sixteen

Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Y/N Burgess is the granddaughter of Alex and Paul, and after having spent so many summers at their manor and always wondering why she was forbidden from entering the basement, she descends the steps into the world of the Order. She broke out the being that had been trapped in that glass cage, but what does he want with her now that he is free?

Warnings: Language, Morpheus So Jelly That He Forgets That He Is Not Supposed To Indulge On His Desire For Reader, Morpheus Stakes His Claim (Once Again), Sexual Tension, Reader is Pissed Off (Once Again), It Get’s Steamy.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Female!GranddaughterReader, based on Netflix’s ‘The Sandman’, Reader now has long-ish hair for plot reasons (Just so Morpheus can tug on it later).

Word Count: ~3.2k

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Your shivering had subsided after spending only a meager five minutes in the bath. You had added a descent amount of bath oil and soap that smelled of flowers so a fair amount of bubbles had been produced and the scent filled your nose. The anger and rage you had felt coming from the other room was nearly nauseating, but the satisfaction of getting a hit in on something like Morpheus was more than enough for you to be pleased. He couldn’t get mad at you for kissing someone else and then turn around and act like you were a burden he was placed with. He couldn’t treat you like a prized possession no one else was allowed to touch and then act like you didn’t exist or had feelings. He couldn’t treat you as a toy. Either he wanted you, or he didn’t. He couldn’t play both fields. Not with you. You rested your head on the back of the tub and closed your eyes. Exhaustion quickly caught up with you.

The sun bearing down on you warmed your skin thoroughly until you felt like its rays were kissing your skin free of the cold. You were stretched across a lounge chair, your limbs splayed out like a cat sun bathing, both legs stretched out. You had one arm lightly resting on your stomach and the other hanging over the side of the lounge chair. Heaven, you felt like you were in heaven. Then a shadow blotted out the sun and its warming rays disappeared from your skin. Cracking your eyes open, you looked over the large sunglasses covering your eyes and saw that a woman was standing in front of you. 

“You’re blocking the sun,” You commented politely, holding your hand over your eyes and squinting at the woman.

“You have balls to talk to my brother like that.” The woman spoke, her voice floating down to your ears. You raised an eyebrow in confusion. 

“Sorry? Have we met?” 

“Oh yes, though I must admit you were quite sloshed after a night of tossing back liquor.” The woman said, finally moving to take a seat in the lounge chair beside you. “I’m Death, Dream’s older sister.”

You blinked at her, the sunglasses sliding down your nose as you stared. Death? Morpheus’s older sister? And you had talked after you had gotten drunk? You will presume it was during your trip to London to meet up with Jemima. Death gave you a friendly smile. 

“You won’t remember but you gave me quite the tongue lashing that night. Going off on me about not helping my brother and saying that I didn’t deserve him.” You said what now? To Death!?  The woman chuckled at you, so she must not be too terribly irate with you for yelling at her. “Never had a mortal yell at me like that, it was rather refreshing.” 

“Your… welcome?” You spoke hesitantly. She waved off your hesitation. 

“You don’t need to be nervous, I know I should’ve done something but I can’t change what I’ve done now.” Death spoke, maintaining her calm and down to earth demeanor. Reaching up, you pushed the sunglasses to the top of your head and lurched yourself into a better sitting angle to have a conversation with her. 

“I’m really confused right now,” Death smiled again. 

“I know, but I figured it would be easiest to talk to you without my brother meddling when you pulled yourself into a dream. We need to talk.” Talk. With Death. Well it wasn’t like you were going to have much of choice in the matter and perhaps it would be nice to talk to someone who understood him.

“Okay… so can you please start by explaining why you think I have balls?” Another laugh. She had a nice laugh. 

“No one, and I mean, no one, talks to my brother like the way you do. Let alone slam a door in his face. Last time anyone dared, he threw them into hell for eternity,” She chuckled and shook her head as if she still had a hard time believing it. You made a face. 

“I’m tired of him giving me mixed signals, okay? It’s bloody confusing and I’m not going to let myself be treated like a disposable toy. Even if he is an immortal being.”

“You’re far from disposable, Y/N,”

“Does he know that?” You spoke, enunciating your words. “One moment he’s going all he man ape shit over the fact that I want to kiss someone, then the next he’s distant, aloof, seems like I’m just another mortal to him. A stupid little toy. It’s like he can’t make up his own mind about what to do with me!” The last part was shouted and you bit your lip and looked away. “Does he, or does he not want me because what I’m seeing and what I’m hearing are two different things. It hurts.” 

Death leaned forwards and took your hand in hers with a frank look. 

“Y/N, my brother’s an idiot. Think’s he’s always right, a bit self centered, selfish, never asks for help and has a big habit of pushing away those that care about him. He hurts the one’s he loves because he’s got a misguided notion that he has to solve all his problems by himself.” You snorted at her words. Everything she said fit Morpheus to a T. “He’s probably pouting that he’s had his toys taken from him and the little games he likes to play are over. He’s unfairly taking it out on those around him. That’s you.”

“So he’s just acting like a spoiled brat?” Death cocked her head to the side, her lips twitching. 

“Kind of. My point, Y/N, is that Dream had a choice in who he bonded himself to within the Burgess lineage, and he chose you. He could have waited longer, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t have chosen you if he didn’t see something he liked. Now add his territorial yet distant treatment of you? I think he has no idea what to make of you and that scares him. Your souls are intertwined, no Endless has ever experienced that before.”

“What is there to be scared about being bonded to a menial human who apparently vexes him?” You pointed out. Death rolled her eyes and looked out to the ocean, eyes distant for a moment. 

“Plenty if you believe it, you two are stuck with each other for eternity.” Your heart seized in your chest. 

“I’m what?” Death’s eyebrows pinched together before she seemed to realize something. 

“Oh don’t tell me he hasn’t told you yet!?”

“Told me what?” You asked sharply. “I haven’t been told anything about being bonded to him and am figuring this out as I go!” 

“You are even bigger idiot then I thought Dream.” Death sighed out dramatically. “So here’s the basics, you and Dream are soul bound now, your fates are tied and there isn’t anything you can do about that. There will always be a part of you in each other. Nonnegotiable, that’s why you can pick up on each others emotions.”

“Morpheus has a lot of rage right now.” You commented, pleased that he was emotionally disturbed. You weren’t going to be the only one. 

“Yeah, well he’s been confined for a century and his bonded is giving him the worst case of blue balls I’ve ever seen and I’ve been around the block.” Death answered dryly. You blanched at her words. Worst case of blue balls? You were talking about the same man… right? She waved your expression off. “Never mind that, you’ll get there eventually… The biggest thing my little brother has failed to mention is that since your fates are intertwined, sealed, is that you’re gonna live as long as he does. Say goodbye to your mortal life and hello to immortality.” 

What. The. Fuck. Morpheus! 

Morpheus hadn’t said anything about that… how did he fail to mention that you weren’t going to age anymore? Or that you were going to be living forever, stuck at this age presumably? Death rocked back in her seat.

“Judging by your facial expression I’m gonna guess Dream has some explaining to do… but you can’t fault him for neglecting to tell you.”

“And why not?” You snipped out tersely.

“He’s been alone most of his life, sure he’s had a few flings, even got married for a period… but most of his relationships never lasted beyond a decade or two. This is new to him as well.” You drooped were you sat. So Morpheus was simply being an idiot because he didn’t know what to do with you or his feelings. Lovely. You were bound to an emotionally constipated Endless.

“So does he, or does he not want me?” Death gave you a chilling smile. 

“Y/N, my brother is starving and you are the only thing in this universe that will ever sate his appetite.”

Death had long since left you alone on the beach to simmer in what she had told you. You were slowly getting used to the idea of living as long as Morpheus... but it was still hard to compute that in all his rage, snippy words, and cold shoulders, you would be the only one he would ever want. He wanted you but was trying to keep you at arms length when he could. What an idiot. This was a clear case of his selfishness since he probably hadn’t ever considered how you felt. 

Softly groaning out and rubbing your aching shoulder which felt sunburnt, you rose from the lounge chair and looked in the distance for cover from the intense sunlight. You could see what looked like a cabana in the distance and immediately started heading that way. Your mind had taken you to a warm place but didn’t think to give you a bathing suit coverup to protect your skin from the sun. Jogging over to the covered cabana, you let out a sigh when the suns rays stopped beating down on your shoulders. Looking around the cabana, you trailed your fingers over the extra wide lounger which could probably fit three, maybe four people, as your eyes took in the view of the ocean. It was extraordinarily beautiful and you don’t think you’ve ever been to a beach as nice as this one. 

Climbing up onto the large lounge, you crawled to the top and laid down on your side, setting your eyes on the rhythmic crashing waves. You didn’t know why this dream felt particularly exhausting, perhaps it was because you had managed to finally get some answers about your predicament. You just were going to have to fight Morpheus until he stopped trying to push you away, however long that many be. You did have eons to sort this out, you just hoped this didn’t last that long. Your eyes drifted shut.

You were jarred awake not that much later by hands pressing your wrists flat against the lounge. Eyelashes fluttering as you opened your eyes, they went wide when you were greeted with the blazing gaze of a very unhappy Morpheus hovering over you. You went to squirm but found that Morpheus had an unbreakable lock on your wrists. Your legs flailed and he just pinned them down with his. Your eyes blazed, echoing his in both color and anger.

“Morpheus, what are you—“ You cut off when his face dipped down and his nose brushed yours. Lividity oozed from his black clothed body.

“Not. Another. Word.” He growled out, his lip curling at you. A traitorous shiver ran down your spine at his commanding tone, but you didn’t back down from his glare. No, you kept your features calm and collected, reversing your facial expressions for once. “Do you think this is a game?” 

“A game? Hardly,” You quipped back, the corner of your own mouth quirking with a biting smirk.  It probably was. “But if it was, we both know who’s winning.” 

You didn’t know it was possible to anger him any further, but Morpheus was rippling with untamed rage barely contained by his skin. Perhaps he would explode from his mortal form and rain his fury down on you cosmically. 

“Y/N,” He hissed, your name rolling off his tongue like it was poison… or ecstasy. You knew better now. You raised an eyebrow and echoed him, enjoying the way you could feel his emotions billow from him like thick smoke from a fire. 

“Morpheus,” You breathed back tauntingly, hoping, craving, the intimacy that you knew burned like wildfire between you and him. In his eyes, past all that fury and might, you saw want. He did want you. He wanted you so bad it might tear him apart, at this rate it would. Just a little taste of your lips, that’s all. A sample, something to tide you both over until you could finally have each others bodies. Just. One. Little. Taste. 

His patience broke. One moment you were staring into his pretty eyes flashing with all sorts of unbridled rage and anger, and the next his teeth were sinking into your neck. A ragged gasp tore it’s way from your parted lips and your body arched with grace, crashing into his harshly. Desire nipped, Dream bit. Heat flooded your sun kissed cheeks, seeping into every nook and cranny of your body, your soul. You felt that dreams ran through your veins, nightmares made your shadow, and what beat your chest was a ruby heart, glittering and gleaming with life. For a moment you thought that was the end of it, that Morpheus was just throwing a tantrum because Desire had marked up his toy. No, it became clear that he was only just getting started. 

Flopping back against the lounge when his teeth released your skin, you let out a moan from the sharp sting that now radiated from your neck. You had very little reprieve from his action. As your chin tilted inward and your hair fell to cover the mark, Morpheus released your right wrist and took a hold of your throat. He was then pushing his fingers upwards, brushing against your jaw while he curled them into your mess of hair. Your head was forced back to the side by the thumb still on your jaw, revealing the stretch of skin he had sunk his teeth into. You let out a soft grunt and wriggled your body, your now free hand sinking into his shoulder and pushing. Morpheus didn’t even move a millimeter. 

As you tried to push him back, black silky hair brushed across your jaw and lips pressed against the stinging marks. This time he was harshly pulling at the skin with an intention to leave more than teeth marks. Your struggles started up once more, body wriggling and writhing under his, trying to fight back the warmth that flooded sun kissed skin and the growing desire that simmered deep within your body. You wouldn’t give in to his intentions, whatever they may be. Trembling and gasping as lips dragged across tingling skin, you twisted your torso to try and get more control of your body. It didn’t work. Morpheus simply tightened his grip on your jaw and roughly brushed his lips up your neck until they skimmed your ear tauntingly. 

“Stay. Still.” He growled lowly, his voice a darker than you had ever heard. You froze in place, your back going ramrod straight and your chest heaving against his. Your eyes strained as they connected with his dark soaked ones. You could feel his powers wash over your body like a tidal wave, but they weren’t what had you freezing in place, spun up in his enchantment. It was his voice. His voice was going to be your downfall. Satisfied that you weren’t going to struggle anymore, Morpheus drew his lips back down your neck, igniting every nerve ending they passed over and drawing your mind and body up into a tizzy. Your breathing quickened, growing labored as you struggled against his demand. Morpheus took a moment to nuzzle the juncture where neck met shoulder, his lips pressing a gentle kiss against the skin. He could be soft if he wanted, when he wanted. Now wasn’t the time. You let out a small whimper and received a few more delicate kisses against your flesh.

But that softness was quick to end and he went right back to ravish his bite. Morpheus was far more greedier with your skin then Desire, licking and kissing it until blood vessels broke and color bloomed. His lips carved up your flesh like a hot brand until you were visibly shaking from your efforts not to start thrashing against his hold once more. You were over sensitized and ached for more everywhere. It wasn’t enough just to have his lips on your neck, you wanted them all over your body. You wanted them on your hips, on your thighs, on your wrists, on your chest, anywhere you could have them. But just as quick as his assault had started, it ended, leaving you sprawled on the lounge with labored breathing and a neck that felt like it was on fire. Hot and bothered. All alone…

“That dodgy, two faced—“ Your world shifted and turned in a jarring sensation. Seconds later you were sputtering on and spitting luke warm water out of your mouth. You were back in the hotel bathroom, your hair hanging around your body in a met mess from you slipping into the water while asleep. 

“Careful,” Morpheus’s overly smug voice was demure and gentle. Nothing like how he had just been in that dream. But you could pick up on that not so hidden smugness. What the hell was he doing in the bathroom? Your eyes blazed to life as you set them on him and you gave him a scowl that would have made any other man shrivel up. But not him. No, his smirk only widened. He knew he was getting to you. Your eye twitched. 

“What the bloody hell was that for you arse!?” You hissed at him, your neck aching. His eyebrow twitched as he grabbed a clean, dry towel hanging from the nearby rack. 

“Making myself clear, Y/N.” He stated. “You. Are. Mine. You keep forgetting that it seems.” 

You snorted in disbelief. 

“Are you serious!?” You exclaimed, your fingers gripping the edge of the tub in a white knuckle grip. 

“Quite,” He enunciated. 

“Well it is my understanding that if I am someones, than I get to give and receive love and affection,” You snapped at him. “And since it has been made quite clear that you don’t plan on giving me either, I may as well find it elsewhere!” 

That put a damper on his smirk and made his eyes glow silver. Checkmate. He was ever so easy to rile up now that you knew the truth… and to drive in the nail, you gripped the tub and pushed yourself to your feet, tugging the drain for the tub. Morpheus’s jaw clicked once more as you stepped out of the tub, showing off every inch of your body. He went ridged as you prowled right up to him and took the towel he had been holding. Morpheus didn’t even give you any resistance, letting the towel slip from his fingers. Shaking the towel out, you ever so slowly wrapped your body up. Hiding everything that he, only moments before, had been lustfully staring at. 

“It takes two to play this game, Morpheus,” You told him, staring at his black jacket before flickering your gaze up to his. “When are you going to stop trying to bend the rules in your favor and simply play?” 

You left Morpheus frozen, staring off into space in the bathroom, too dumbstruck to reply or even move. Moving about the hotel room, you changed into a spare set of clothes and sat at the table with the book. Matthew fluttered over. 

“What happened between you and Lord Morpheus, Ma’am? He looks like he’s had the rug swiped out from under him and you look bothpissed and smug. What did you do?” Matthew asked, cocking his head at you and blinking curiously. 

“Nothing he didn’t didn’t deserve, Matthew,” You stated crisply, licking your finger and changing the page you were on. 

Date Published: 10/7/22

Last Edit: 7/8/23

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[maeve-is-annoying-about-books]

Blue Eye Samurai

Is really fucking good, but in such a strange sort of way. It feels like it flows with and goes against convention all at once. The show will play up an anime trope about training weights in one moment, and then in the next will deliver one of the most striking fight scenes that paint a visual pastiche of the characters within. Mizu barely needs to speak to communicate the depths of her determination and hatred, meanwhile Fowler is extremely plain an upfront about speaking his evil. Mizu spent an entire episode climbing a castle filled with fantasy traps. But when it comes time to seal the deal on this heightened sense of fantasy the show stopped and slapped me with an ice-cold bucket of reality. More in-depth spoilers to follow.

Moon above the visual storytelling in this show feels so on-point. I cannot believe that a show with a literal *takes training weights off* moment could be the same show that made the episode "The Ronin and the Bride". Then for that same fucking episode to take its own training weight joke and elevate it into character dialogue. Like that's insane to even think of doing but the writers really did make it into something genuinely beautiful. The FUCKING training weights trope.

I think this incredulity sums up my feelings about Blue Eye Samurai. It can feel so... discordant at times, but it keeps sewing that discord into something touching and creative. Or bone-chilling and stomach-turning. But when this show has me it's by the throat, I can't look away from Mizu's journey.

And like... what a journey of someone constantly caught in two worlds. It's the way her mixed-race nature never lets Mizu settle anywhere but the outskirts of society. Others keep calling her an onryo or demon at each turn, but it's not just for her eyes but all of the "otherness" she has accumulated. It's in the way he scorns womanhood because it offers no path towards the revenge he wants. It's how she'll never be society's view of manhood because honor has no use to her. It's in how he can fit into the crowd with a little aid from his glasses, but is just as "marked" by society as Ringo is. The way she could almost find happiness as a wife, but only by being himself and finding genuine enjoyment in sparring. It's the way he has to learn, through the metaphor of reforging his sword, that she cannot do things alone yet. Yet at season's end she hasn't her blade or friends, only a ship with Fowler.

You've noticed me playing with Mizu's pronouns a bit now, haven't you? Considering how much this show directly deals with gender and its presentation, I think it's only fair. I know what the creators have said, pertaining to Mizu's gender, but I don't think it's something that can be put into simple words. I guess I get the feeling that it isn't incorrect to use other pronouns when referring to him. Like it's too complicated a discussion within the show itself, and it simply lets each character beat be without the others giving us a conclusion. Is the scene of Mizu writing poetry upon herself an acceptance of her womanhood, or is an acceptance of the female body he was born with? I like that it's left to be demured. To simply exist in the moment like we're overhearing Mizu's dialogue with themself about who and what they are outside of vengeance. It's honestly a bit beautiful and meditative.

Which makes it all the more of a shocking, horrid moment when Fowler realizes Mizu's birth sex. Not only is it in the most fucked up, sadistic way, it's also an invasion. An invasion into Mizu's dialogues, into their fight, into the scene. It almost feels out of place, jarring, like being struck by the words. The castle is burning down and murder is in the air and Fowler is talking about how Mizu's bones break like a woman's. It's the height of intrusiveness onto her being.

Just... gosh. How could I hope to summarize this series in one post? There's so much to talk about and it's so good. The show kept me engaged with the right amount of show, don't tell where it counted. There are mistakes, missteps, missed opportunities, but they all allow for this story to really exist in its own language. Like Mizu's sword it is a thing not like many others. Its component pieces are hard to weave into a coherent, whole story and there's always the allure of sanitizing your work to be overly pure. But it is, I think, better for it to let itself be unique. To be wholly itself without excuse.

[fortunatelychaoticphantom]

So, just to be clear, The Good Place is the greatest show in history, it is my heart, my soul, my everything. That said, after the bilionth rewatch, I need to talk about a couple of things:

1. Not a single person in the real Good Place should have been okay with the concept of the Bad Place from the beginning of time. The thing is that eternity, of any kind, is inherently cruel, and I was so happy that the show actually delt with it and acknowledged the problem of it, both as punishment and as a reward. But it makes no sense to me whatsoever that a person who is presumably good and caring would reach paradise and learn that there are people who will never ever reach it, and not immediately demand to talk to the manager or start a riot. In fact, even the people in the bad place wouldn't accept that. And not necessarily just about themselves! Knowing that people will suffer endlessly for the rest of time, regardless of their actions, is beyond horrific for the majority of people in the world, let alone ones who get into heaven. Even in the fake Good Place, there's no way that someone like Chiddi wouldn't be disturbed by it. You can say that Eleanor and Jason had other things to worry about, and that Tahani was too self centered at the beginning to care (though I don't think she was so self centered that she would become that cruel as to think that eternity of suffering is okay for anyone), but to know that your loved ones would never be there with you, that humans will suffer for the rest of time... I don't know how anyone could live with that. Or technically not-live with it, I guess. You know. Cause they're dead. Anyway, I know that we wouldn't have a show if this wasn't the case, but it still doesn't really make sense once you think about it.

2. Even if the humans in the existing system wouldn't revolt over the cruelty of infinity, I feel like the accountants should have. Technically speaking, within the existing system amazingly good people and generally good ones still went to the Bad Place because they had like 1,150,000 points instead of 1,200,000, and not to mention every other person with points between zero and the lower cut of the Good Place. The system makes no sense from its inception. Why on earth should a person with more than a million point literally burn in hell? Why would accountants be okay with this? To see so many green points go to hell? It's horrible.

3. Also, infinity doesn't apply only to humans - it is cruel and unfair that all non-humans in this world are immortal, and on top of that, forced into a job essentially from birth. They did touch it with Michael both changing his job and later becoming mortal, but it's such a shame that the possibility wasn't given to all non-humans. When your only options are forced labour (that you can't choose the type of) or brutal death ("retirement"), you are just as much of a prisoner of the system as the humans.

4. Why exactly is there a system? I know it is irrelevant within the frame of the show, but I am genuinely curious in the philosophical aspect of this, especially since the system in the show is explicitly detached from any religion, religiosity and divinity. Why are humans judged at all? Why only humans? What right or authority do the non-humans have to operate this system and judge humans in the first place? Does this imply a higher being does exist? Or is the universe just really into burocracy, randomly placing atoms in the shape of accountants and fire monsters?

4. Doug Forcett shouldn't have had any points at all. His motivation was just as curupt as Tahani's, and so it didn't matter how much good he did.

5. Funny enough, through the experiment Michael actually found a more moral and fair way to torture people, regardless of how it revealed the flaws in the system. This goes back to the fact that a lot of good people and just normal average people filled the Bad Place. It was established that the Bad Place workers truly believe in justice. They don't do their job because they're evil, they do it because it's their part in keeping the universe balanced. But I can't believe that a demon looks at essentially a good person's file and says "yeah they deserve to get their intestines pulled out of their ass for the rest of eternity". If the revolt wouldn't start from the humans or the accountans (or angles for that matter), it should have started with the demons, who actually deal with the consequences of the flaws in the system every day. Michael's solution is what the Bad Place should have been from the beginning - a tailored torture that fits the crimes of the individual human. Finding out that they're in the Bad Place didn't actually harm the torture at all, it's a form of torture all of its own and should have been incorporated into the new technique (which, technically, it was in the end, when it became the new system). Beyond that, it's just a question of the length of the punishment, which brings us full circle to the first point.

Still the best show ever.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

9 + taakitz for ficlet lines?? pls and ty!

9. "Who said anything about fair?"

--

The city of Veritas was large and imposing. Buildings towered, lining the outskirts like a metal wall. A thick smog looms above them at all times. Closer to the center, the building edge down into a reasonable size, splitting out into a clearing. There's a large cobblestone street that led up to the heart of it all: The first temple of the Raven Queen. It was large, made of thickly cut black and white marble. The ceiling is high and the walls echo with every step someone takes.

Despite its place in the center of the city, it was rarely full. The people of Veritas weren't notably religious. The upkeep of it fell onto the shoulders of only the most devout. Nowadays, if you wanted to commune with your god, your bedroom floor would serve as a decent prayer space. If anything, the Raven Queen's lack of response outside of the temple is what drew people away. Other gods could answer prayers much quicker. Who would choose a goddess who made you wait over one that would grant your wishes in a heartbeat?

The temple is split into different rooms. The main room of prayer and celebration is in the middle. Around it, smaller rooms are made for prayers and rest. There were rooms for guests, those with nowhere else to go. Rooms where people would bring their loved ones to pass away peacefully into the waves of the astral sea. The temple crawled with death, but never with decay. For as many people who passed away in these walls, new ones came up, taken into the Raven Queen's embrace.

Kravitz had lived here his entire left. Years ago, when the temple was headed under a priest who had recently passed away as well, the quiet night had been broken by a sharp rap on the door. The priest had answered, only to find a four-year-old on the doorstep, steeped in fever. She had been certain that Kravitz would die overnight and bought him into the temple to make for easier passing. Upon morning, he was still there. In the weeks to come, he was bedridden from his illness but made a strong recovery. Kravitz couldn't remember his life outside these walls and he wasn't sure he wanted to. This was his home now.

His childhood had been… difficult. When he wasn't sick, he'd go to school. He had acquaintances, sure, but the only place he ever felt at peace was inside the temple. He remembered the day the priest died and he remembered not leaving his place by the alter for several days until a new priest was introduced and Kravitz had been quite literally picked up out of his grief and sent to school once more.

Death wasn't a strange concept to him anymore. Death was just something he had to deal with. Veritas Mortis, the truth of death. Everything had to come to an end and at the very least, Kravitz found peace in that one facet of life. The rest of the world would do what they would like. All Kravitz needed was inside these walls.

Or, that's what he thought.

Kravitz jumped over the trashcan the man in front of him had kicked over, giving chase. Around them, crowds of people pushed through the streets. It was nearly the Winter Solstice and the city was covered with celebration. Colorful stalls turned into blurs as Kravitz ran by them. There wasn't a chance to stop at the place that always sold the earrings he liked, or at the fruit stand that had the sweetest grapes. The man he was chasing took a sharp turn, skidding slightly. Kravitz picked up his pace.

The Winter Solstice was one of the few holidays connected to the Raven Queen. There used to be many but over time they had either faded out of existence or spread to the general public. On the shortest night in winter, the Raven Queen's power was the strongest. Their temple might not have attracted much regular attention, but people from far and wide came to pray and ask for her favors in the week leading up to the Winter Solstice. Upon moonrise on the Winter Solstice, the Raven Queen would grant as many prayers as she deemed fit. Which still wasn't a lot, but it attracted people all the same.

For events such as this, the temple laid down an altar to channel the prayers through. They lined it with palm wax candles and Algerian ivy, both grown in the temple's back garden. Stones would sit in a circle in the middle, surrounding the centerpiece: a raven skull with two sapphire eyes. When the moon's light came through the stained glass windows on the solstice, the raven's eyes with catching the light. The candle fires would flicker before turning bright blue. Kravitz had seen it many times before, but this year was a full moon and the power of the Raven Queen grew twice fold under that light.

Or, it would if they had to skull.

Kravitz rounded the corner, sliding into the alley the thief had turned into. The thief still had his hood up and he was on his knees, facing Kravitz. His bag was on his side and Kravitz could just barely see the sapphire skull in the low light. The thief was striking flint and steel against the ground, trying to set the circle around him ablaze. Kravitz looked down.

A teleportation sigil.

"Hey!" Kravitz said, rushing forward. He held out a hand- Raven Queen bless him, he had never actually had to use this in a fight- and summoned his weapon. The magic formed around his hand, the same brilliant bright blue as the gems inside the theif's bag, and a scythe materialized into existence. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

The thief ignored him, striking the flint and steel again. Kravitz slashed his scythe toward the thief, who was now in hitting range, but he ducked. He did, however, drop the flint and steel. Kravitz swung again and the thief lurched back.

"Oh, fuck this," the thief said. Kravitz swung a third time and missed by an inch. The thief ducked again, falling onto all fours. Kravitz kicked him away from the sigil, which had begun to glow. It went out. The thief wheezed and- vanished. Kravitz sliced his scythe into nothing, stumbling forward at the lack of impact. After a second, the circle began to glow again and a shoe scuffed the ground from behind him. He turned to see the thief reappearing and then-

Black. An uncomfortable, suffocating black, but only for a second. Then suddenly, his vision went white. Kravitz stumbled, expecting to fall back against the alley wall, but instead just fell back into soft red sand. He looked around, squinting to make out anything.

They weren't in Veritas anymore. They weren't anywhere Kravitz could even begin to think of. The nearest desert was hundreds of miles away from Veritas. Kravitz reached out a hand to summon his scythe again, which had vanished during the teleportation, but he had nothing to draw from. For the first time in his life, he couldn't feel the presence of the Raven Queen at all.

"Where-" there was a tremor in his voice. "Where are we?"

"Outside," the thief snipped, gathering up his belongings. He had a wand in his hand. It was pointed at Kravitz.

Kravitz had no magic. He- the Raven Queen should still be there, why couldn't he feel her-

"Give me one reason not to blast your ass right now," the thief said. There wasn't enough light to make out his entire face, especially not from under the hood, but Kravitz got the impression of a very tough glare.

"I-" Kravitz said. What was he supposed to say here? Sorry, I've never been outside the city before and suddenly I can't feel my Goddess. Or maybe, oh, my bad, I thought you were trying to steal this priceless artifact from my temple and I figured I might ask you to return it. He swallowed. He felt very much like he was four all over again. "Because it wouldn't be, uhm. Very fair of you."

The thief laughed- actually laughed, with a full snort to start him off with. Kravitz felt a curl of embarrassment and anger rise in his chest.

"My man," the thief said, wiping a tear from his eyes. "Ohh, boy, that's the funniest shit someone has said to me in years. Who said anything about fairness? Ooh, you're a hoot, Reaps."

"R- I'm sorry?"

"Reaps," the thief said, like that made any sense. "Y'know, 'cus-" he made a slashing motion with his hands. Kravitz tried to reach for his scythe again and came up quite literally empty-handed. "Like the grim reaper or some shit. It's- yeah, not my finest work, I'll admit to that. Anyway, uhhhh, fuck you? Goodbye."

The thief turned on his heel and started walking away. Kravitz scrambled to his feet (surprisingly hard to do in sand) and tried to catch up.

"Oh, you are not coming with me," the thief said. With a flick of his wand, a barrier popped up in front of Kravitz. Kravitz… went around it. Another popped up.

"You stole from my temple," Kravitz said, going around that one too. A third barrier. This one wasn't even knee-high. Kravitz stepped over it. "I'm not going back until I have the skull."

"Yikes," the thief said. He tugged his bag a little closer to him, speeding up. Kravitz stumbled through the sand, struggling to keep pace. "Sorry to disappoint you, thug, but I need this much more than you do."

"I seriously doubt that," Kravitz said. He reached for the bag. The thief held it out of reach, laughing a little. It didn't have the same energy as before.

"You have no fucking idea," the thief said, voice grim.

[crowblincray]

So I have at least 20 years of experience in the janitorial profession. (Work at a grocery store now) The number of stories I have from said time are kinda crazy.

I've cleaned for so many various businesses and have cleaned homes and apartments.

Most people don't think of the cleaning staff. It's a mostly thankless job, you're basically invisible until someone has something to complain about.

The pay usually sucks, at least with the companies I worked for. No benefits, no days off, no breaks.

You get to see a side of the world that most don't even think about.

I have a lot of ghost stories in particular. A lot of places I worked at had weird occurrences and paranormal things. Something about night time in various locations really changes things.

I grew up with an awareness of unexplainable things. My mom never told me ghosts didn't exist or anything like that. If anything, she had her own stories from her childhood.

I don't expect other people to believe my stories or beliefs about things. If you read my stories and want to think of it as just spooky stories, so be it. I'm not here to convince anyone.

That being said.

The most haunted place I ever cleaned for was a private school.

To my knowledge, it's no longer there and was torn down some years ago but I haven't bothered to confirm. I never want to go back to that place.

Now ghosts and weird stuff don't easily scare me. I cleaned for other buildings that had resident ghosts that I became familiar with and even kind of befriended, maybe?

Anyway this place in particular was bad. I don't know what it was about it.

During the day it was beautiful. Birds singing, squirrels running around. 8 acres, 10 buildings. Quiet area.

At night, the place changed. I once had a moment there that felt straight out of silent hill. I worked there with only one other person and sometimes completely alone.

One afternoon as the sun was going down we were outside of the performance building they had for plays and the science fair they did, etc. There was an airforce base within close proximity. The storm sirens at the base started up just as the last bit of light fell behind the horizon. Sounding just like the silent hill sirens. The area instantly felt different, malevolent. The woman I worked with felt it too. A large southern black lady who didn't scare easily. She shuddered at the same time I felt a chill and loudly declared, "Whelp, time to get in the building!" And left to go back inside. Me following right behind her.

The bugs that would infest that place were Massive. I usually don't mind most bugs but I'm talking centipedes that looked like living ostrich feathers that had no fear of humans. Various other bugs I'd never seen or heard of at the time.

It felt like it would rain every night there. Sometimes only on that property. One time I got so mad about it since I had to go outside and walk to each building carrying all my cleaning supplies and would get drenched in the process. One night I screamed at the sky in frustration, "Stop Fucking Raining!" At the top of my lungs at the sky. Oddly enough it did a few minutes later.

The place felt like it had a mind of its own. Like it was alive. I know it sounds crazy. Yes there were ghosts there but there was something about it that scared me more than the ghosts.

You know how at night big glass windows kind of turn into black mirrors and you can't see outside? Just a reflection of the inside?

I'd see kids in the windows all the time following me around. In one building there was a tall black figure I could see following behind me all the time.

The performance building I mentioned earlier had an old man I'd see there sometimes. Now to turn the lights off in that building you had to go All the way behind where the stage was and flip them off and walk back to the front door in pitch black. I didn't have a flashlight either. Now I'm not afraid of the dark, never really have been. I usually find it comforting. As soon as I would flip that light off I'd feel like I had to run out of there. Like I was being chased out by the old man. I don't think he liked people being around after dark.

I'd constantly hear my name being called or people talking though no one was there. I'd ask the other lady if she had called for me or anything. She never did. She was encountering the same kind of things that I was.

It got so bad and I started getting so paranoid and distracted that I started bringing music with me to drown it out. To try and ignore all the creepy crap just so I could get my work done. My coworker began to do the same.

Time would seem to warp some nights. Things that should have only been 20 or 30 minutes long would in actuality be over an hour.

Other times, nights that seemed to go on forever were relatively short. I usually have really good time management with that job so it was really weird.

There is one funny story about that place I'll never forget though.

The place had two huge gates that leads into the campus that were kept locked at night. One being right in front of the very first building.

It was around 2/3am, pouring rain outside. I had just finished bagging the trash in that building and was dragging it out the front door. We would leave the bags of garbage at the front of the buildings to collect at the end of our shift.

I was there alone that night. The road in front of the school was usually completely dead that time of night. I hadn't seen any cars go by at this point.

One lone car is going down the road and comes to a stop right by the gate as I'm putting the bags down. They roll their window down and turn their radio up.

It's blasting Set fire to the rain by Adele.

I stare at the car.

They drive off.

I shake my head and walked back into the building.

When we were given the news that we had been fired from that place I felt no panic or anxiety that I would usually feel at such news.

I was relieved.

I might try and post some other stories here sometime, but that place will always stick in my mind.

P.S. little funny fact. It was the exact same private school my mom had sent me for kindergarten/1st grade. Lol.

[no-where-new-hero]

Fire and Hemlock Readalong: Chapter 3

…in which Hero Business begins and also I realize doing a readalong is hard because the further I get into this book the more I just kind of want to respond by whistling like a tea kettle on high boil.

Much like how the original ballad has kind of three strata of normality (Janet's home castle, Caterhaugh, and the fairy realm, represented by Janet, Tam Lin, and the Fairy Queen), the novel gives us three different home structures: Polly's house, Granny's house, and Hunsdon House (also ruled by three different yet linked women--Mum, Granny, and Laurel. Threes are of tantamount importance in this book, as DWJ tells us in her essay).

And here we finally meet Mum, who is immediately coded in opposition to Granny because “home is not a Fire and Hemlock sort of place.” We get a sense of Polly’s life in her house: stifling (the curtains are like walls) and yet invasive (Mum opens Polly’s mail and doesn’t apologize the way Granny does). I find it interesting how houses that Polly feels comfortable in smell like food and home cooking (Nina’s and Granny’s), whereas Mum makes Polly get takeout dinners and subtly shoves her out of the security a young child should feel in their own home.

The two big movements in this chapter are Seb's return as a main player and Mr. Lynn's letter. Seb enters the novel again in the guise of another game-that’s-real when Nina tells Polly she’s being followed. Already the danger from fairyland is following Polly and Nina into the real world, but in a way that’s also just real world danger: don’t talk to strange men. Don’t go to Caterhaugh. I’m paying attention to Seb more this time around because of a certain line in the last chapter, and I find it fascinating that while he’s an agent of Laurel and Mr. Morton, he’s also enough in their power to have a certain measure of solidarity with Polly. Again, he represents an intermediary between the normal world and the fairy world. He doesn’t tell Laurel about how Polly navigated the Husdon House enchantment (not eating and drinking, the vases), and he does explain a fair amount to Polly that he didn’t necessarily need to about why he’s been following her at all.

As more evidence to my claim about Mr. Lynn’s insufficient masculinity, witness Polly’s “He’s not even a man.” Like. This is a grown-ass divorcee with a job that you’re talking about. But also we know that Polly as a hero sees through to the heart of things, whatever they look like to other people.

Unspoilery letter thoughts: the mistypes always send me. Mr. Lynn’s explicit blurring of Hero’s gender is incredible? DWJ said she needed to write this book with a female hero because that simply didn’t exist for young readers in the 80s, but in a more modern context, I feel like that can be rewritten from “girls can be heroes” to “heroism transcends gender.” Same message but Mr. Lynn really decided that Polly could be a boygirl and he didn’t care. There’s more here about sight/enchantment: Mr. Piper’s insistence that if he cannot see the thing, then it cannot be real. Seeing is believing but he’s also actively trying not to make that connection, but Hero in their youth calls it like it is. I also just love this letter? The vivacity and delight in its prose is really heartwarming and does a good job I think to get to know Mr. Lynn at a distance before we meet him again in the next chapter. Minor letter spoilers below the cut.

This time around, I’m really wondering how deeply Tom knows about his gift to invent things into existence, and that’s something I’ll need to check on once we get to Part 4. If he does, then his actively creating the Hero Business as a Nowhere world for him to slide out from his curse comes across as much more manipulative than if the coming-true was an unexpected byproduct of channeling his creativity and happiness in finding someone like Polly to share that with. I feel like it might have been a combination of both—and also of course the paintings that they pick out together tie into their imaginings, so there’s a lot of symbiosis going on.

[datastate]

nno chapters 6!!! fuuma thangs... much speculation

first off, the assistant nurse is really cute :] i like her little shuriken pin... secondly! i know this might just be another signal of miharu's reluctance to let others care for him openly, but also. but also. the fact he almost immediately turns around once she says she's done to see how tobari is doing. they're killing me. badly.

also i do wonder if his eyesight will be permanently affected... there is the implication of the sort of. 'power level' also helping regeneration, but it'd be interesting to see what they do with this if it stays...

HE'S SO CRINGEEE... also this is probably just me reading into things, but also. but also. the majority of the people here at least Appear to be relatively young, yes... combined with this next part --

would it be especially sickly if i said that i think that miharu's (and tobari's...?!) mother, at least, was originally part of this clan... it would also explain how miharu still ended up fairly close-by after they'd fled. as well as imply the reason behind possible previous losses they suffered that resulted in this fool^ (said lightheartedly) coming to be the leader so early. or maybe he IS just a nepo baby that inherited the role/power passed down to him to succeed the clan. who knows...!

that does remind me though, while i was searching for the site again after having lost it, i had reread the starting chapter a bit, and i find it interesting that yoite's the first one to react...

it's presumably a matter of how in-tune you are with the knowledge of the world in the first place, to initiate any sort of connection with what exists as the 'source' -- that being miharu. you could argue that the main three in those panels represent. yoite very clearly specializing in one of the most dangerous hijutsu(?) methods even if all else is lacking; raimei preferring to take a very physical and practical approach to the world (as a self-proclaimed samurai); mr. freak (i forgot his name) instead being someone very socially involved, well aware of how to motivate & manipulate people, i'd assume... i do not know the ones in the fourth panel though...

but anyway. the dialogue in hindsight it also makes me wonder if this is the first time miharu's power has awoken or if it's only reawoken -- because if it's the first, then my idea of like. the memories also being trapped with that sort of crumbles. or there's the whole question to be asked of what exactly is the inciting incident for it to awaken at all, because it doesn't seem like miharu's in extreme danger by the moment it's already recognized in him...? or maybe this whole thing is just meant to be a symbolic & vaguely threatening opening. who knows...

too silly <3 i do appreciate her determination though :'] she forced herself to bounce back so quickly... she's given this chance to pick herself up again, all she can do is make sure it counts...!! she's not dead yet! this is her second/third/etc chance!

i don't have much to say here, actually... this is just a really good panel & does a good job of getting across how intimidating a force yoite is...

i sincerely hope she steals his maidens. fuuma clan becomes saraba's clan, okay? i'd be okay with a sudden genre change for her sapphic harem. (THIS IS A JOKE. I'M VERY INVESTED IN THE MAIN PLOT AS IS AEGAHA)

NO FURTHER COMMENTARY.

HE'S SO WEIRD!!! but it is a very fair point in how miharu's directionless helps

oh god okay. i had a thought. you know how in mob psycho, shigeo had suppressed himself to the point he didn't even know what he wanted anymore, and so his 'self' upon returning full-force had completely focused in on this singular want. i'm sure nno has its own flair if this is correct (though i am just throwing ideas at the wall), but in this general regard, do you think if miharu's centered his past on the idea that he wants things to "go back to normal/peaceful times" after the whole. oh, you know, your parents are dead... that that's what he's strived for since, but slowly what he had suppressed is coming back to search out what he would do that can't simply be achieved with typical human experience, despite that being juxtaposed against the fact that it's because he's not a typical human that he longs so heavily for that. usually, humans want the unachievable and take pride in their passions/specialties -- someone who already possesses what would qualify them a 'prodigy' finds no novelty in it, regardless of what sort of attention it catches from other people, if it doesn't match their passion. there's a sort of envy inherent to both because of the how the experiences impose something limited. and in many cases, once you breach a certain line then you also abandon the life you could've had.

I DON'T KNOW... I'M PROBABLY WAY OFF THE MARK BUT. GRAHHH... i wanna knowww...

THIS GUY.

MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY. even though i also want to know what tobari is hiding, THIS IS NOT THE TIME...!!! (i am excited though to see. if complications do arise ^_^ <- the sicko)

AHEEM HEEM... oh you had it so well in the first half. rather than acknowledge what miharu's offering forth - "would you want something" - where the only answer is that inevitable "yes" or, kinder than a lie, some sort of "i don't know" ... instead focusing it on miharu's objective, or... desire (which is. the one thing he's not allowed at this point). their wants don't matter right now, they want to know what miharu wants to do first and foremost... sniffle.

but then there's that slip-up... not that it can be helped, because you Want to assuage the doubts, but it just makes it so much more difficult. man... they're all stuck in such a terrible situation right now TT_TT it's so fun to read though...

[kamyru]

@someonesaid18s, thank you for this request. I always love your requests and they mean a lot to me. I changed this idea a little and now they aren't only interacting with their kids, but with their colleagues kids too. I hope you don't mind it. There'll be a lot of fluff and softness. Enjoy! ❤️

The best babysitter in the world, or how they ended up babysitting their coworkers' kids (Oops! I Said Yes?! version)

Author's note: If you like it, I can do it for other games too. Feel free to ask me. Also, tell be who's your favorite. I really want to hear your feedback.

Ukyo Senkawa (with Eiji Takao's and Kunihiro Kasai's sons)

Ukyo was running some errands with his daughter when he met Kunihiro Kasai, whose face was too stressed for someone in the middle of a playground.

"Did your wife chase you away, and you decided to kidnap Eiji's son to ask for money from the Takao family?" Ukyo asked with a too-naive face for the words that just left his lips.

Kunihiro stopped tapping on his phone and turned to his friend with the most disgusted face that Ukyo had ever seen at him. The designer was lucky that a client called Kunihiro, preventing the chain of curses that dreaded to leave his lips. Ukyo gave his daughter a little push to go toward the boys. She made a small step towards them and turned to look again at her father. Yet, she wasn't as lucky as him and tripped on a stone. Before Ukyo could help her, two pairs of hands caught Baby Senkawa and helped her steady herself. He wanted to go to the boys and thank them. Though, Kunihiro's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"I have to go urgently back to the office. Can you look after them? Yui and Aoi finish school in half an hour. They'll come after their brother. But please, don't leave. Eiji will kill me if he finds out I let you have babysitting privileges without his approval."

Ukyo nodded vigorously, knowing better than anyone that he would do exactly what Kunihiro was afraid of. There was no way in this world that he would let the possibility of talking with Baby Takao slip away. Baby Takao was like a narwhal in their office. Everyone knew he existed, yet it sounded like a mythical creature only the chosen ones saw. The designer didn't think it was fair that Kunihiro could babysit him, and he didn't. Baby Senkawa was one of the oldest kids in their group. He had enough experience.

So, when Kunihiro's car was nowhere to be seen, Ukyo called the kids around him, and with a not-at-all-manipulative proposal to eat something tasty, he convinced them to go with him and Baby Senkawa.

It was for the first time when Ukyo was babysitting three kids at once. So, he had to show everyone he was more responsible than people thought of him. Especially to Takao, who didn't want him near his son, and to his wife, whom he tried to convince that they were ready to welcome a new family member.

When Ukyo started cooking, three kids were behind him. However, a few minutes after, Baby Senkawa was washing the vegetables, Baby Kasai was pealing the garlic, and Baby Takao was looking at the collection of board games in the living room of Senkawa's residency. A smile appeared on Ukyo's face when he saw the boy sharing the same interest as him. It took him a few minutes to remember something important, even if his wife talked about this a few times. Mrs. Senkawa said their girl was getting taller, and the board games were heavy. So, they needed to do something with them before she got hurt while trying to reach one. Baby Takao was a year younger than their daughter, yet, he was taller.

In slow motion, Ukyo turned to look at the boy and saw how a glass chess board was half outside its place, on its way to fall right on the boy. Never in his life had Ukyo run so fast. A second before the gravity started to work, Baby Takao found himself against a broad chest. Ukyo could barely catch the board before it broke. He didn't do it because it cost as much as a car and was one of a kind. He did it because he didn't want shreds of glass to hurt the kids.

Baby Takao was lifted from his place, and the board was put on the ground. His hands embraced Ukyo's neck, and a soft "Thank you" left his lips. It was the first time Ukyo heard Baby Takao talking without being asked anything. The boy took a place near the only girl in the house while his friend sat on the other side of the table. When the food was boiling, Ukyo and the kids started to play word chain games with cities, towns, and countries.

However, they were interrupted right before Baby Takao's turn. The doorbell rang, and someone impatient enough started to knock. Ukyo didn't have to look to know the intruders. With the broadest smile he could perform, he opened the door. Instead of greeting his guests, the first words he said were: "I hope you have a good grip, Kunihiro." And he was right. In front of him were his colleagues from Miyoshi Concepts. The older one tried to keep the younger one in place, not to kick Ukyo in front of the kids.

"If you are hungry, I have enough for all of us. Do you want to invite your wives?" Ukyo continued in his typical carefree voice.

"Dad!" Baby Takao shouted from the kitchen. "Uncle Ukyo has the most beautiful chess board I have ever seen. Do you want to play after we eat if Uncle Ukyo is okay with this?"

Eiji got calmer after seeing his son so enthusiastic. He let himself be convinced to eat with Ukyo. However, the problems began afterward when Baby Takao and his father gathered an entire team of supporters around them while they played chess. The tension was so high that none of them said a word. When Ukyo's phone vibrated, he had to step back not to disturb everyone.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Takao, your boys are with me. No, we don't have wine. But we are having enough fun without it. They'll come back home after they finish playing chess. I'll show you pictures with them at work."

Kunihiro Kasai (with Togo Daimon's daughter)

Kunihiro was stealing glances every now and then at the two kids that stood together on his sofa. A few minutes ago, they were playing a clapping game. Now, they were coloring something. Who could have guessed that his son and Daimon's daughter would end up in the same kindergarten and become best friends? The kids were so cute, and their wives so close that the men had to accept it. Usually, the kids were brought to Miyoshi Concepts after kindergarten by one of their parents. Today was the same case.

"Dad says that you are good at giving women what they want," a high-pitched voice said from the other side of Kasai's desk that was tall enough to cover the voice's owner. The girl waited to be alone with Kasai to say this. So, when her friend excused himself to the bathroom, she took her chance.

The girl stood on her tiptoes and put her chin on the man's desk while trying to steady herself with her little hands. A smile appeared on Kasai's face. He was sure that Daimon told his daughter those words in a derogatory way. However, she was too young to understand it.

"Did you get into a fight with a woman?" Kunihiro asked, ready to get on Baby Daimon's side. It didn't matter what the relationship was between him and her father. She was a sunshine that had to be protected, and he was ready to do it. However, it wasn't the case.

"I got into a fight with Mom this morning, and I want to apologize," Kasai nearly choked when he heard the girl. On the one hand, he felt proud that Baby Daimon asked him for advice. On the other, he knew how much it hurt to fight with someone you loved. So, he promised himself to help the girl no matter what.

The second Baby Kasai stepped back into the office, he met his frantic father, who started to put his jacket on him. Both kids got escorted outside the building and right into the parking lot.

"Where are we going?" two high-pitched voices asked in unison.

"To the flower shop. We have to find flowers that mean "I apologize" and the cutest postcard."

Baby Daimon clapped her hands while her friend looked confused from her to his father. He shrugged. At least he got to spend more time with both of them. It was funnier than coloring books. The kids played "I spy with my little eye". However, it soon turned into a mess because they looked at opposite windows, and the car was moving. So, Kunihiro had to calm them before they started to fight. Good thing they arrived soon at the shop.

Baby Daimon's hand was in Kunihiro's while his son looked around at the cacti. In between every sentence, the man reminded him that they could hurt him. In the end, Baby Kasai returned to his father with a cactus needle in his finger. At least he was smiling, finding it fun. Kunihiro knelt in front of his son while Baby Daimon tried to get a look at what was happening between them. The clerk found the three of them in this position. Her chuckle disturbed the group. However, she stopped as soon as Kunihiro smiled at her. Poor thing, the man was married and with kids. Otherwise, she would have tried to flirt with him.

Before they could stop to buy a postcard, Baby Daimon came up with a better solution: to paint it by herself. So, they returned to the office. Baby Daimon tried her best to draw her mom, while Kasai tried to stop his son from insulting the girl's art. He put her on his knees when she decided to start writing the message. Baby Kasai was on another chair. While the kids bickered about how to write some words, Kunihiro already wrote them and waited for them to finish.

By the time everything was ready, Kunihiro had understood that he would have to stay late in the office due to how much work he had to do himself. With a heavy heart, he had to take Baby Daimon to her parents and his son to his mom.

"How can I thank you?" asked Baby Daimon on her way to Togo's office.

"You don't have to thank me," Kasai said in a soft voice.

The girl scratched her chin and smiled when she found her answer.

"Can you lean forward for a second?"

Kunihiro did as asked and got on her level. However, he was still taller than her. So, Baby Daimon put her hands on his shoulders and pressed her lips on his forehead.

"Dad says that everyone likes forehead kisses. Thank you very much for helping me!"

Kunihiro's cheeks got a light shade of pink. It didn't disappear even when his eyes met Daimon. However, instead of getting into a fight, Togo bowed slightly before taking his daughter in his hands. She kissed his forehead as she did to Kasai, which made Daimon's features get softer than his enemy had ever seen on him.

Kunihiro turned to his son. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him.

"Do you know the reason for the fight?"

Baby Kasai took two of his father's fingers in his hand and walked to his mother. For a while, he thought about answering the question or not. Finally, he nodded and hummed in confirmation.

"But I'm not going to tell you," the boy added.

Kasai stopped midway and crossed his hands on his chest in disbelief.

"Why? I am your father."

"And I am her friend. I promised not to tell anyone."

Togo Daimon (with Shu Hasunuma's daughter)

Two pairs of big eyes looked at Daimon, trying to understand what was going on. The man had to get a grip on himself not to melt in front of them. Recently Hasunuma asked him to teach his daughter some English before getting into school, considering that Togo worked abroad. His daughter, a curious bean who didn't lose the opportunity to learn something new, decided to also partake in the lessons.

So, Daimon was reading stories about ponies to the two little girls in front of him who only understood the words princess and pony. He would have tried a different method. However, they manipulated him into this. Maybe his wife was right, and his voice was that pleasant. Though, he had never thought that it would work at taming kids.

"How do you call a cat in English?"

"Pony!"

"No. It's cat. How is a dog?"

"Pony!"

"No. It's dog. How is a pony?"

"CAT!"

The two girls that answered at the same time looked at each other and clapped hands. It was easier to tutor Shu when he was an edgy teenager. They were eager to know everything but too energetic to focus. With a lopsided smile, Daimon combed his hair with his fingers and placed his hands on the desk in front of him.

"What am I going to do with you two? You learned this word last time."

His daughter looked at her father for a second and put her chin, while puffing her cheeks, in her father's hands. Her friend watched the scene in front of her and did the same thing. Daimon heard the front door and breathed in relaxation. Maybe his wife had an idea of how to deal with this. When she called his name, he didn't answer, too busy being a support for the girls' heads. Mrs. Daimon made her way to Togo's office.

"Why are you not answering?" she said when she saw him in his chair.

"Two kittens decided I don't have the right to move anymore."

Before MC could get closer, the girls moved and ran to her. She could barely catch them. It was okay if it was only one of them, but two were too much. So, she looked pleadingly at her husband, who was grinning at the scene in front of him.

"Did you learn something new today?" asked MC when Daimon took his daughter and placed her on his hip.

"Pony in English is CAT!"

MC looked at her husband. She knew that last time they got the right translation of the word "pony". Daimon looked away while whispering: "That's now what I taught them."

A smile appeared on the mother's face. She couldn't wait to see Shu's face after hearing this. The same idea made Togo shiver. Shu trusted him his most precious creature, and he couldn't deal with her. However, it was Hasunuma's turn to take care of both girls next time. The last time that happened, Baby Daimon came home asking about the difference between a spear and a sword. So, they were even.

Kuranosuke Kiba (with Ukyo Senkawa's daughter)

Kuranosuke sat down with a pot of cherry tomatoes in one hand and a trowel in another. He looked at the two girls in front of him who had the same kit, minus the tomatoes and the ground in the pots. Only one kid was his. And if he was totally honest, if someone told him ten years ago that he would let Ukyo's daughter boss him around, he would… probably say that it was impossible, but secretly agree because there was no way he would say no to a kid. Especially when the said kid asked him to teach her how to grow cherry tomatoes.

After making sure that both pairs of eyes were on him, Kuranosuke took the trowel and tried to take out one of the two plants to put it in one of the kids' pots. At first, he wanted to give it to Baby Senkawa. Yet, his two-year-old daughter shoved her pot in front of him. So, while the youngest kid played with the ground that came with the plant, the older one took the other plant to put it by herself in her pot. She looked up, searching for approval from the man. When she saw him nodding, a big smile that reminded The Blizzard of Mrs. Senkawa spread on her face. Her eyes sparkled, and she softly touched the leaves. Kuranosuke felt so proud while looking at Baby Senkawa that he barely stopped himself from patting her head. His hands were too dirty for this.

Yet, when Kuranosuke's eyes moved from the oldest kid to the youngest, he understood that his daughter inherited his wife when it came to messiness. The poor plant took an oblique position while half of the ground from the pot found its place everywhere on Baby Kiba, especially on her hands and face. The architect looked at Baby Senkawa to ensure he could trust her and let her a few minutes alone. With dirty hands, the father touched his daughter's purple dress and led her to the bathroom.

Baby Senkawa was barely five years old. However, she inherited her father's sociability. So, when she found herself alone, even the silent tomato plant couldn't entertain her. She needed to feel at least someone's presence. Her eyes fell on a fluffy ball curled in the living room on the sofa. The smile returned to her face as she made her way near Haru, not caring enough to check her outfit that got a little "hello" from Baby Kiba. Her dirty hand made Haru change her place and turn with her bottom to the girl. Baby Senkawa sighed.

"If you don't want to be touched, I won't touch you. But, please, don't go! I'll tell you about my Mom and Dad! Do you want to listen? I bet that you want it! Everyone likes my Dad. But he loves Mom the most. Just like me because I love Mom the most too. That's why I came to your house. Because she likes cherry tomatoes and I wanted to give her a gift. I hope you're not mad at me for disturbing you, pretty cat."

Kuranosuke cleaned his daughter, yet, he didn't have enough courage to disturb Baby Senkawa in the middle of her deep conversation with Haru. Instead, he waited till she finished and approached her slowly.

"Do you want to get clean too?" Kiba finally asked. The girl turned to him and saw the man with a smudge on the cheek, probably made by his daughter. Yet, it entertained her so much that she decided not to tell him about this. Some minutes after she washed her hands, Baby Kiba, Baby Senkawa, and Kuranosuke sat in the car and drove to Senkawa's residency. The entire road, Baby Senkawa's hands made sure to steady the plant while Baby Kiba fell asleep.

The door was opened by Ukyo, who wore an apron. Kuranosuke assumed that Mrs. Senkawa remained somewhere in the kitchen. Without saying a word, Ukyo's daughter presented the plant to her father. The man patted her on the head and let her enter the house, so she could run to her mother to show her what Kuranosuke had given her.

"I see that you had a lot of fun," Ukyo stated while looking at the ground on Kuranosuke's face. Only when MC returned home, did Kuranosuke understand how alike Ukyo and his daughter were, both of them not telling him about the smudge on his face when it was so visible.

Eiji Takao (with Kuranosuke Kiba's daughter)

Eiji's eyes were slowly getting heavier and heavier. However, it didn't stop a smile from appearing when he heard barely audible snores from the bundle of joy curled against his chest.

A few times, Kuranosuke got asked at the office if he didn't want to have a son more than a daughter. Eiji didn't understand the question at all. Firstly, it was rude to say something like this. Secondly, wasn't it more important to have a healthy kid? Yet, Kuranosuke's tongue didn't lose enough of its sharpness not to respond to everyone who said this: "Have you ever had your daughter fall asleep on you after she repeated how much she loves you?"

Eiji liked this response from Kuranosuke more than anything else. He was lucky to have the twins and his son. However, the twins were affectionate in other ways, while his son inherited his distant personality.

At least the twins' personalities helped him to know how it felt to have an affectionate kid at home. Yui somehow convinced Mrs. Kiba to let Baby Kiba spend a day with them because she was surrounded by boys and wanted to know how it felt to have a sister. After talking with her daughter and husband, the mother accepted and let her kid at Takao's.

It was still a mystery how Yui convinced the parents, considering that it was nearly impossible for Eiji to let anyone else babysit his kids. However, the question disappeared when he saw Baby Kiba running into Yui's hands. One of the softest and most contagious laughs echoed around the house.

Eiji thought that it would be hard to contain someone as energetic. But he had forgotten that the Kuranosuke's genes were strong. So, even if Baby Kiba had a lot of energy, she was very polite and disciplined. It was enough for her to see how Baby Takao tried to solve a Rubik's cube to want to try it too. So, for hours, Eiji explained to the toddlers how it worked. Between his explanations, Baby Kiba told them about Haru and how funny it was to have a cat. For the first time, Eiji saw his son getting distracted and interested in someone else's story as much as he got into Baby Kiba's. He liked it so much that when Yui took the girl with her to have tea parties and do her hair, Baby Takao wanted to partake in this voluntary.

Around lunch, Yui and Aoi took the kids with them into the kitchen under Eiji's supervision. Yui talked so animatedly about cooking that both toddlers were awed. They wanted to help with everything. However, Aoi was there to keep them away from the sharp knives.

By the time they finished eating, everyone was so exhausted that they could barely keep their eyes open. And that was how Baby Kiba ended up on Eiji's chest. She asked him nicely to take her in his hands and soon fell asleep. Eiji let himself relax a little and closed his eyes. When he felt his son cuddling near him and placing his head on his shoulder, he was sure his heart would burst.

It was Yui who heard the doorbell. Eiji opened his eyes when he felt how the weight from his chest disappeared. It was Kuranosuke who came to get his girl home. She felt the familiar scent of her father and hid her face between his neck and shoulder.

"I love you, Dad," Baby Kiba whispered while trying to hug her father. Kiba kissed her forehead and returned the declaration of love. He thanked Eiji for taking care of his daughter.

A groggy Eiji took his son and looked in the distance. What if he could convince the Kiba family to let him babysit Baby Kiba more often?

Shu Hasunuma (with Kunihiro Kasai's son)

Shu had no idea why he got called by Kunihiro to see him in his office. All possible scenarios came into his mind. Yet, none seemed plausible enough. So, barely breathing, he knocked on the door. Instead of seeing a usually happy and easy-going Kasai, a frown was between the man's brows, and his cheeks were covered in pink. Shu started to think of ways to work as a freelancer after being fired.

"I apologize for calling you here in the middle of your work day. But I have something personal to ask."

The Hasu nearly collapsed. He breathed in relief. His family wouldn't lose a pair of working hands.

"My son accidentally eavesdropped on your conversation with your wife and heard you are going to an exhibition of one of his favorite anime. Unfortunately, I can't go, nor can my wife. So, can you take him with you?"

"Yes, yes, yes! Don't worry! I'll happily take care of your son! Thank you for this opportunity!" frantically answered Shu, without even thinking, too happy to know that it wasn't about work.

And that's how he ended up cosplaying some spirit that looked like the ducks from "Spirited Away" while the two kids he had near him looked like knights in shining armor. But who was he to deny them this?

At first, Shu, Baby Hasunuma, and Baby Kasai made a plan of raiding the shops with caramelized apples and cotton candy. Then, after cleaning their hands, they would go to the stand with comics, take photos with the characters, buy souvenirs for their parents, and see what else could be done. But the plan got disturbed in the bathroom.

"This is the best character! Let's take a photo with him first!"

"No! This is the best! Tell him, Dad!"

Shu looked at how the two of them were projecting drops of water remained on their hands on each other while trying to assert dominance. For a while, he let them be. At least they weren't fighting or cursing each other. However, when they both got quiet, it started to be suspicious. Shu tilted his head while looking at them and trying to understand what he had missed. The kids looked both at one point, so the father turned to look at it too. It was an enormous mythical creature that could be ridden. So, the kids took each other hands. Baby Hasu, who was nearer her dad, took his hand in her and led the way. The kids seemed to forget about their quarrel a few seconds ago. While the staff made sure to put the equipment on them, both of them checked on each other to make sure they were safe. After the first ride, they rode it for other four times.

And it began again. They were fighting about what to do next, then saw something that caught both their eyes and ran there. By the end of the event, they still wanted to run some errands while Shu was on the verge of falling asleep. He let them be and returned home later than expected.

On the way home, Shu prayed to all the gods so that the kids would fall asleep. However, it wasn't the case. Both of them wanted to play some games before going to sleep. They were in the middle of another fight about what to play next when Baby Hasu heard light snores from her father. The kids looked at each other and put a finger against their lips. Soon after, they fell asleep on each side of the exhausted dad after getting a blanket for all of them.

When MC returned home with the Kasais, she couldn't stop herself from taking a photo.

[kuorena]

Ok, ive gotta hear the whole Coldhands=Danny Flint theory bc its been bouncing off the walls of my brain since i saw that art. Like, i LOVE Danny Flint and I’m obsessed w her and i wish she had more of a presence in the story. I want it to be true even if its just a “wouldnt this be cool if it happened” theory

Hey, love to see someone else loving Danny Flint that much!

So basically the whole theory is about how Danny Flint could have been the one who became Coldhands because it vaguely lines up with both the timeline and their stories as well as some of the things that were said about Coldhands (and also because it would be awesome):

The timeline parallel can be summed up quickly by him being described as having been "killed [...] long ago" by Leaf, which technically makes him too old to be any of the dead brothers of the nights watch that we met in the time the story took place, while at the same time there are very few historical night's watch members that we actually know anything about, Danny Flint being one of them.

The story part goes a little bit deeper; we know that Coldhands was once a brother of the night's watch, that he was killed by the wights, and that he was raised from the dead, presumably by the children of the forest - he also knows about the black gate under the Nightfort, wanders the lands beyond the wall alone with only his elk, and considers the night's watch men that him and Bran encounter foes. Danny Flint joined the night's watch disguised as a man and faced incredibly cruel consequences for it by her "brothers", who are implied to have murdered her as well, is well known as a legendary figure of songs for her bravery, and she served at the Nightfort, which her ghost is said to haunt until this day.

Now the connection here is really far fetched but there are definitely some interesting parallels that keep me up at night:

-Coldhands knowing about the black gate under the Nightfort even though no living man remembers, Danny Flints ghost haunting it still, and the gate being what connects the Nightfort to the world beyond. Maybe her ghost is still there, and now on the other side

-Danny Flint being an outsider in the brotherhood and trying to fit in standing in direct contrast to Coldhands staying on his own, now an outsider on the other side of the world, but maybe having found peace in his existence among the dead and inhuman, as opposed to the cruel side he saw of humanity

-Her ghost remembering what her brothers did to her and Coldhands seeing the ones he meets as his enemies, with the exception of Sam, whom he found protecting someone else who does not belong with the night's watch

-Coldhands having been killed by "them", whether "they" were the others, the wights, or even who they once were - we literally don't know

To be fair, there's not really proof that any of this is related at all, but there isn't really anything speaking against it either? And yes, it's definitely a theory falling in the "wouldn't it be cool if it happened" category, but literally it would be so cool like. imagine

(Also I should definitely mention that I'm not the one who came up with it and I'm not even sure if its an "official" or even well known theory, so most of this comes from what I read elsewhere, my own thoughts, or possibilities I talked about with friends but its such an intriguing theory nonetheless!)

[sweeteastart]

💫KHOCWEEK 2023💫

Day 2 - New World

@khoc-week

Sika

Who's this but my girl Sika ! A bit about this drawing :

Sika is a very free spirited and adventurous teen. She loves to ran right into the unknown without looking back. With this joyful but impulsive personality of her's, who else than Terra could ground her yet still let her enjoy the experience ?

I can easily picture Sika insisting they land on Lilo's and Stitch world to see the beautiful scenery. Terra obviously would end up folding because he relates to her sheltered childhood and wants her to experience new thing.

This piece was quite a challenge for me as I never ventured to drawing lilo and stitch before ahah

Bunny

The routine of the Vulpes union was all around rather boring for teenagers : taking note of the day's mission, going into some world they already visited hundreds of times before, collecting the bare minimum of lux and going back home black and blue from the fights against various heartless. Bunny couldn't say she hated it.

After all, once in a while, she could team up with her brother or friends. It was always fun to spend time with either even if the whole fighting for her life part wasn't the most relaxing. She felt stuck in a way in this rut, this ever ending circle that never stopped. For years now she has led this existence. The girl wasn't even fifteen and she already felt bored of the responsibilities and expectations everyone had of her.

Walking down a flowery path, she couldn't help but glance at her surroundings. This forest was simply breathtaking. Greenery upon greenery grew out of control, savage yet surreal in its beauty. She wondered when was the last time she came about such a beautiful world before. In the little time she had been exploring, she had seen numerous sceneries. Most were gorgeous… Well, really, all of them were for a child who grew up in a small coastal town.

Her eyes followed the tree seams, the grass paths, the little leaves falling from the sky. She was hypnotized. The nature was calm, birds singing far away. A new and foreign place. That's when she heard it. The splash of water. The slight rustling of someone nearby.

Her instincts kicked in before she even thought about it. Silently, heels barely touching the dirt, she moved towards the sounds. She had nailed the silent walk a while back. It was always a blessing to take vermin by surprise. It also made the job easier when she ran into trouble.

Before she saw her, her voice blessed her ears. The voice of an angel. Loud and clear, a song coming straight from a pure heart.

Jet black hair, as deep as crown feathers. It draped around her fair skin and round face like water. A soft face, smooth like a baby. Long ink coloured lashes stretched out to the infinity just on top of her deep eyes. It was like staring at the night sky during a new moon. The light twinkled in her big, doe eyes as she gazed toward Bunny.

If she didn't know any better, the Keyblade wielder would have thought of her as a goddess who descended straight to earth. Naively, unaware of the danger of a stranger suddenly appearing, the kid smiled largely.

"Hi" she said, a hand still in the river's cold water. "Who might you be ?"

For a moment, Bunny didn't know what to say. So she didn't. She opened then shut her mouth numerous times before words finally came to her. "Bunny"

It was all she could muster yet the girl who looked barely thirteen laughed. Not in a locking way but a loving way. Only with that, this little thing, the wielder knew she wanted to protect this smile.

"Happy to meet you, Bunny. My name's Snow white."

And there's my day 2 ! Soo I decided to do two character per day for this year one with an illustration and one with a little text ! I hope it's now too terrible ahah sorry if the text wonky, it was pretty much a last moment addition and English isn't my first language

[skvaderarts]

Petrichor Chapter 56: Gentleman

Chapter 56: Gentleman

Note: Phew! It’s finally cooling down a little, at least where I live. Thank goodness… 

(-~-)

Not far ahead of the duo stood an older brick building, the aged stone burnished a dark brown from years of wear and tear. It had stood the test of time through cold and rain and waterside winds though, so its construction was not in question. Though the large black framed windows that were set within its well-built masonry were clearly a newer addition, the mist from outside didn’t quite manage to fog them up as beads of water ran down the glass and over the ledge down onto the sidewalk and into the gutter below.

Like most of the buildings on this side of town, it had a sort of old-world charm that the young summoner couldn’t quite place. But he did know that it reminded him of Sirrus’s residence in a way, at least in terms of style. It wasn’t a flatiron, but it was small, sitting at the end of a block at a four-way crossroads. 

And there was something he liked about it. The smell emanating from within. Even through closed doors and windows, he could smell the aroma of hot coffee. And as they approached the building and came within the proper distance necessary to clearly read the signage, the smell became obvious. This was one of those fancy artisanal expresso shops that he’d heard of and seen previously but never actually been in. Not a bakery or a brunch restaurant, but a dedicated coffee shop for only the most discerning of clients. The kind of place that ground your beans in front of you after scooping them out of a burlap bag in the store. The sort of establishment that offered pour-over coffee brewing and served their drinks in frosted glass mugs that were as hard to hold as they were tricky to drink from without burning yourself and looking silly. The kind of place that called you poor just by virtue of existing. And V felt that in his core. They probably didn’t even have prices next to the available drinks, if they even offered drinks in that manner. You probably just told them how you wanted your drink and they made it and that was that like a fancy steak house that just asked you your preferred cut and doneness and absolutely nothing else.

Its diminutive size made a bit more sense now.

Slowing down considerably just as they rounded the corner that led to the door, Sirrus paused and looked over his shoulder momentarily to see where V was, and upon silently confirming that his companion was right beside him, he pivoted so that he was mostly facing him and gave him a more serious look than he was accustomed to, catching V’s attention almost instantly and causing him to slow down and match his speed without being asked. Sirrus clearly had something important that he wanted to get off of his chest before they entered the shop to meet their contact.

“Before we go in, I feel the need to warn you that he can be a bit…“ Sirrus shrugged indecisively, seemingly unsure as to how to explain what he meant. But V was relatively sure that he understood the gist of it just by the look of general discomfort on his face and the way he winced and clenched his teeth. V had made that very same expression internally on several occasions while having a conversation with someone he found unpleasant. “You’ll see. But I wanted to apologize in advance. You disserve fair warning.”

V appreciated that, perhaps more than he let on. The young summoner looked deep in thought, pondering something or another before finally looking up at his friend, that slight, capricious smirk returning to his visage once again. He wasn’t cocky, but he most certainly felt fairly confident. Confident that there was little that Sirrus’s connection could say to him that would ruffle his feathers enough to send him off the deep end like that. He could guarantee that much.

“Don’t worry… I’ll play nice,” V said slyly, obviously not intending to cause any problems, but fully unwilling to take any crap, either. There was a certain look of unbothered indifference on his face that could only be described as “fucking try me” and Sirrus couldn’t help but be amused by that. V wouldn’t be burning any bridges, but he wasn’t going to put them out, either. And frankly, it wasn’t his responsibility to. If he was insulted, he was under no obligation to stand there and take it. And although Sirrus didn’t want to cause any trouble, he also wasn’t going to tolerate disrespect. Not today. No. His contact could say what he wanted to him. That was their agreed-upon dynamic. But there were no such rules of engagement when it came to V. That conversation hadn’t happened yet.

Sirrus scoffed followed by a low chuckle and a slight side-to-side shake of his head. Somehow he doubted that, but he knew that V was good at keeping his cool. That being said, he didn’t have much of a frame of reference to what V’s reaction was to being talked to the way that his contact sometimes spoke to people, so he would just have to see. This would be interesting, to say the least.

“Ah… there you are.”

It took V a moment to locate the source of the voice, but as soon as he did, something told him that they had found the individual that they had come here to meet with. There was no mistaking him. They were sitting at a table alone right at the entrance to the shop, after all.

He was an older gentleman, perhaps in his late forties to early fifties with salt and pepper hair in a very smart suit. A long overcoat appropriate for this kind of weather hung neatly over the back of the chair he sat in, and he wore a rather expensive-looking pair of freshly polished dress shoes. He had brown eyes and a short, well-groomed beard. An air of professionalism, dignity, and decorum radiated from him, but in a very businesslike manner and not in a stuffy, uptight sort of way. He seemed direct, if not a bit cutting with his tone, and it was obvious from his presentation alone that he was not to be trifled with. 

Just standing this close to him put V on alert. He didn’t feel threatened by him in the traditional sense, but he did feel strangely intimidated. He couldn’t bring himself to feel at ease in his proximity. He both failed and passed the vibe check simultaneously in a way that was uniquely perplexing and tremendously unsettling, and V couldn’t say that he liked it, but he kind of respected it. Was this what Sirrus had been talking about when he’d said “You’ll see” back at the front door?”

“Gustave.” The adjudicator bowed curtly in response to the man’s statement. It hadn’t been much of a greeting, but it had been an introduction, nonetheless. And Sirrus was nothing if not professional. And to be fair, he wasn’t expecting a warm welcome from him, especially after asking him to delay the meeting a few hours earlier. He wasn’t a particularly patient man, but that was primarily due to his punishingly tight schedule. “I trust your trip was uneventful?” 

Sirrus and V waited for their new companion to stand up and push his chair back into its proper place at the table. A subtle “hmph” was the response they received as he took his coat off of the chair and regarded Sirrus silently for a moment, his expression difficult to read due to its sheer neutrality. Sirrus returned a similar look to the one he received, although more pleasant than cold as opposed to the older man’s professional and not unfriendly, but somehow still not welcoming expression. The young summoner wondered silently if it was a combination of his resting facial expression and his demeanor that made him so unapproachable. He would have to wait and see.

But he didn’t have to wait for very long for an opportunity to potentially find out. A second later Gustave turned his attention to him, giving him a once-over as he processed information about V that he was not privy to. The young summoner got the sense that he was being scanned in a sense, every detail of his anatomy being harshly scrutinized and cataloged for later reference by the older gentlemen in front of him. 

If he’d been in this exact situation a few months ago, he probably would have physically recoiled at the way that being examined like this made him feel, but after the night he’d just had, he couldn’t say that he was all that concerned about what this individual thought of him. And that wasn’t the result of anything less than a sense of contentment with himself. He held no negative feelings about the man perseu. In fact, he was thankful for his help. But he couldn’t help but think about how differently he might have reacted to this at any other time in his life. A younger version of himself would have been rendered nonfunctional by such judgment, horrified by the prospect of not measuring up. 

Now he felt his eyes upon him, but the difference was that he wasn’t afraid of judgment because his approval wasn’t something that he was concerned with. He already had the approval of the only people whose opinion of him mattered. Hopefully, that was a learned skill that he could retain going forward. He’d spent far too much of his life being fearful of what people thought of him. He… he was almost proud of himself in that regard. Proud that he’d managed to begin to unlearn the years of pain he’d been through and come to some sort of peace and create a launching point from which he could move forward from after the sheer number of obstacles he’d encountered along the way.

Almost.

“This must be our guest,” Gustave spoke succinctly, his tone even and unwavering. Almost as though he were reviewing V instead of speaking directly to him. There was an air of something he couldn’t place in his voice. And absolutely no traces of a clearly recognizable accent to be seen. He could be local or foreign and no one would be able to tell. And V got the distinct impression that he was doing that on purpose, perhaps to conceal his own identity better. An enigma to be certan. 

He’d noticed that Sirrus was capable of doing something similar, leaning more or less into his own accent, and even losing it entirely, depending on his comfort level. But this just felt different.

“So, what are you, then? Certainly not human. At least not entirely.” Gustave inquired, his tone low so as to not be overheard but his question still as direct as possible. He seemed to be more interested in V’s reaction to it than his actual answer, at least from where the young summoner stood. Less of a power play, and more of a test. But a test of what, exactly? His temperament? His disposition? His ability to tell that he was being tested in the first place?

What are you? Now that was something he hadn’t been asked in a while. It brought back memories of a different time, that was for certain. He suddenly felt the urge to call Nero and check in on him. Maybe even Lady and Trish… He hadn’t spoken to her in a while. Not in the way that he would like. He… he had things he wanted to say to her. Things he needed to say to her. The blond devil had saved his life. He wanted to thank her for that.

“What gave me away?” V said with a tone that was more amused than annoyed. It wasn’t a question so much as it was a confession. A confession with no additional details or elaboration. Enough to let him know that he was correct, but enough to frustrate him for daring to ask should he be the type to be easily annoyed by half answers. V still held those cards. He wasn’t that obliging. No, that was info he was going to have to earn access to. He didn’t just go around telling people he’d just met things like that.

Gustave gave him an interesting look, the faintest trace of something close to a smirk appearing on his face for just an instant. He nodded his head in approval for a short moment, seemingly amused by his response. V wasn’t sure he’d passed the test with flying colors, but he’d certainly piqued the man's interest. He seemed like the sort who didn’t fake things for the benefit of others. V was willing to bet that his reaction was genuine.

“I am Gustave, the mistress’s liasson. You will be discussing any and all business with her. In private.” It was clear that he was to be on his best behavior. There was no need to even state as much. His tone and authoritative presence demanded no less than that. “I will take you to her. She is not to be kept waiting.”

V nodded a single time, noticing the way that Sirrus had stepped back ever so subtly to allow them to speak more privately. His arms were crossed and his expression was almost as difficult to interpret as Gustave’s demeanor, but the slow blink that he gave when V made eye contact with him told him that he was impressed with how well he’d handled his first encounter with the older gentlemen. Today was going to be… interesting.

Then we should depart. Post haste.” V said with a subtle tilt of his head toward to door, a sentiment that the man he was speaking to seemed to agree with as he slipped back into his coat and adjusted his collar. They had spent enough time on pleasantries, as far as he was concerned. It was time to leave. They were burning precious daylight.

“My thoughts exactly,” Gustave said calmly, turning his attention to the front door as he walked away from then, heading towards it. He had no problem leaving them behind if they dallied any longer, that much was clear. He was headed to his destination with or without them. It was probably best that they accompany him. There was no time for fancy drinks before they left. Not today. “Attend me. We have somewhere to be.”

(-~-)

I’m interested to know what you are planning to do for Halloween this year, if anything! No one trick or treats where I live and it makes me sad. Halloween has always been my favorite holiday. It bums me out to see it dying out, at least where I am. What did you think of the chapter? I hope you enjoyed it! I’m curious to see how you will react to the next few. This is going to be fun… I’ll see you all next week on Friday!. Take care out there! Bye bye!