#so it is best to keep our distance where we don't have to be uncomfortable at the subtle bias that will pervade through all art

[mantisgodsdomain]

"oh, yeah," we think, "we could probably cross this over into Li nked Uni verse if we actually draw out the canon for long enough, smacking different versions of the same character into each other is always fun especially when it has the potential for massive cultural differences and shit like running into things where the thing that has been forgotten has significance beyond the things that are remembered. Hey, we should probably check the comic in order to comply with the six-month rule, we don't think we ever finished-"

We return from the reference images. We have remembered why we didn't finish looking into the base comic.

[cdbabymp3]

𐙚chris' girl ; chapter one ― matt sturniolo

summary: y/n goes home with chris after the party. matt let's his desires get the best of him. i suck at summaries lmfao

notes/warnings: chris x reader x matt, nsfw !! slight perv!matt, masturbation, vouyerism (??) a hint of toxic!chris, that's it i think idk ?? i've decided to break up the chapters to be a lil shorter so it's easier to read ! that way there will be more of them too <3

read the intro if you haven't already :) LUV YALL IM NERVOUS ABT THIS ONE ....

not caring what response the random guy had to say, matt kept walking. while leaving completely wasn't an option, who's to say he couldn't wait in the car? enticed by the idea of complete silence and peace, matt strolled to the front door of the house and made his way up the street to the car. with a short beep of the car unlocking, he hopped in and shut the door, sighing in relief. after sitting idle for a moment, he was unsure what to do. was this a new low? hiding in the car from my brother and his girlfriend....jesus. defeat struck again, making him rest his arms and forehead against the steering wheel. what the fuck is wrong with me? amid his wallowing, a low buzz vibrates repeatedly from his back pocket. matt grabs his phone, the bright screen illuminating the dark interior of the car. not one, but five texts from nick:

matt rolled his eyes at his brother's hollow threat.

a tinge of anger made its way through matt's veins. of course chris did something. it wouldn't be fair to cuss out chris until he knew the whole context, but, fuck, was he close to. he squinted, seeing nick and y/n walking side by side towards the car, chris behind them on his phone. he couldn't read y/n's expression or chris'. they all got in the car awkwardly in silence. matt looked at nick for a quick nonverbal explanation, but nick shook his head like he wasn't allowed to say a word. with that, matt takes the cue to start the car and head home. in the rearview mirror, he sees ample distance between chris and y/n. chris' hand creeps onto her thigh, but she moves it off.

"you're seriously still mad?" chris mumbles, trying not to draw attention

y/n ignores him, staring out the window for any kind of distraction.

"this is ridiculous." he scoffs under his breath

nick scrambles for the aux cord and puts on some soft music to alleviate the growing tension. matt discreetly nods at nick for his idea.

other than the music playing, it's silent for almost ten minutes until chris starts instigating again.

"can we talk about it at least? y/n?" he pokes her thigh, but her gaze remains on the buildings that pass by

y/n's voice shakes, "no, not right now."

"so you're gonna be mad at me and not tell me why?" he rhetorically asks, raising his voice so that it overpowers the volume of the music

nick's eyes flick to matt's nervously.

"chris, let's not do this in front of them, please. just wait." y/n requests, fighting the urge to match his vexed tone, but it comes out even

matt lets it be quiet for a minute, then clears his throat, "so-uh, y/n, should i just bring you back to our place?"

her eyes meet his in the mirror and he gives her a comforting smile, mutely letting her know that the invitation is open but that she doesn't have to.

"um, yeah, if you don't mind." her eyes hold onto matt's stare longer than he expected, finally returning back to the window.

the rest of the ride is filled with an uncomfortable silence, everyone shifting awkwardly in their seats and checking their phones.

what felt like an eternity in the car was finally over as matt pulled into the garage. not even waiting for the car to be off, chris swings his seat belt off and gets out. y/n tries to keep up, quickly running behind him to where matt and nick assumed was chris' room.

after the garage door fully closed behind y/n, matt gestured for nick and him to get out.

"so you don't know what happened at all?" matt interrogates nick, locking the car

nick opens his mouth to start speaking, opening the door into the house, but puts a finger up to his mouth with wide eyes.

"what?" matt whispered entering the first level of the house

nick shushed him, steadily walking up the stairs to the second floor to reach the living room. curiously, matt did the same.

"i thought i heard y/n...it sounded like she was in pain or something...." nick spoke so quietly, matt had to step closer to hear him. the two brothers turned in the direction of chris' room, waiting for a sound, but there was nothing.

matt starts to walk away, "nick, c'mon-"

"mmh, chris, fuck..." y/n's muffled moan travels down the hall.

matt freezes, blood rushing to his cheeks and ears. holy fuck. the sounds coming from chris' room were borderline pornographic. y/n's sweet mewls mixed with chris' low groans could be heard over the sound of the skin slapping over and over again.

"wow, that was fast. usually, they fight a little more before this part." nick grabs his headphones routinely from the dinner table, "you know, i told chris not to do that shit when we're here anymore. it's fucking weird. but if he's not gonna listen to me, the least he can do is close his door all the way."

with no response from matt, nick looks to him. matt stands completely still, eyes glued to the hallway of chris' room, definitely not hearing a word nick just said.

"matt? what the fuck are you doing?" nick hits his arm, snapping matt out of the trance he'd been put in.

"what? sorry-i think i need to go to bed. i'm really tired." a lie so bad, he cringed the second it left his mouth. thankfully, nick had enough alcohol in him for it to go unnoticed for once.

"well, good luck with that." nick gave him a part on the back, slipping his headphones on and walking to his room.

once nick's door was shut, matt shuts his eyes tightly and took a deep breath. just go to your room, plain and simple. close the door and go to bed. matt opened his eyes, taking hesitant steps into the hallway. with each step, y/n's moans grew louder. it started feeling real, too real. he clenched his fist and held his breath, making it the space between chris' bedroom door and his; conveniently right across from one another. the sounds were no longer muffled and he could almost feel the heat radiating from the room. like he was being timed, matt slipped into his room, closing his door, but leaving it cracked the slightest bit open. peering with a fraction of his face, he could partially see past the crack of chris' door. the sliver he was permitted was of y/n. her eyebrows knitted together, both hands holding her up as she grips onto the sheets of the bed white-knuckled. her body rocks back and forth as she fucks into chris, who drills into her from behind relentlessly. she gasps every couple of thrusts when chris goes deeper. a string of their curses echoes throughout the whole upstairs. matt feels himself getting hard at the sight and sound her. it was so wrong, he knew that. a sudden wave of shame pours over him. if chris knew the things he thought about his girlfriend, matt was certain chris would shoot him dead between the eyes. so, making sure they don't hear, matt closes his door. he kicks off his shoes, peels his jeans and shirt off, and crawls into bed. it's pitch black in his room, leaving too much to the imagination. loud and clear, he can still hear y/n's erotic sounds. so pretty. even when she's getting her brains fucked out, she sounds so fucking pretty. matt had watched his fair share of porn in the past. he could never fully get off to how most of the girls sounded. sure, most of it is scripted after all, but none of it really got him going. there were always too screechy for him. but not y/n. she sounded like an angel.

he almost felt nauseous with guilt about these thoughts he was having. distraughtly, he turned over on his side, making eye contact with headphones that sat on his bedside table. maybe nick had the right idea. reaching for them lazily, he turned them on. a small circular red light blinked on the side indicating a dead battery. great. he rolled over onto his back, both hands pushing his hair out of his face. a loud slap sounded, earning a pleased whimper from y/n. matt's mouth formed an 'o' in shock. he didn't think she was into that...

he couldn't handle it any longer. the bulge in his boxes throbbing so bad it started to hurt.

just this once, matt...

lightly, his hand snuck under the covers, to his erection, palming it. he winced, the mere contact already giving him the relief he needed. another slap against y/n's ass echoed, working him up enough to touch himself underneath his boxers. grabbing the base of his shaft and stroking upwards, he shut his eyes, imagining he was the one making y/n sound like that. it was easy to tap into this fantasy for him, not being the first time, in truth. he could see it so clearly: him holding her hips, moving her body against his as he fucked into her. her soft skin sticky with sweat, little baby hairs clinging to her forehead as he kissed her lips and neck. he would take his time with her. not like chris. he would grab her neck if she'd let him, holding her securely. he'd leave little marks all along her tits. god, her tits. the thought of them alone was enough to make him cum right there. he'd fuck her as long as he physically could, as long as she wanted him to. and the face she'd make when she cums....the way she'd whine his name, holding onto him for dear life.

he was almost there, eyes screwing shut even tighter than before. his chest rose and fell at a brash pace, sucking in air, as he felt his release nearing. his free hand grabs onto his sheets, hips lifting up to fuck himself into his hand. so fucking close...

but then there's silence from the other room. mid-stroke, matt pauses, keeping his eyes closed. suddenly, chris' door slams. a meek knock on his own door causes matt's eyes to flash open in fear.

"matt...?" y/n knocks again, a little louder, "are you awake?"

໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @forevergirlposts , @soimightlikeoldmen69 , @sl0t4matt , @st7rnioioss , @sturn3ol0 , @vickyzloserz , @@mayhem-72

lmk if u wanna be tagged, hotties !!

[yilisbookclub]

"Can't Hurt Me" is a true story written by David Goggins, who used to be a Navy SEAL and a long runner. He talks about his tough childhood with racism, not having much money, and being treated badly. But he didn't give up. He became one of the best long distance runners in the world.

The book is based on Goggins' "40% Rule." This means when you feel like you can't do more, you're really just using 40% of your power. Goggins wants us to go beyond what we think we can do and be okay with feeling uncomfortable because that's how we get better.

What's cool about the book is that it's not just words. There are things to do, like tests about yourself and challenges that make you step out of your comfort zone. Goggins tells us we need to take control of our lives and work really hard to reach our goals, even if things are tough.

People really like this book because it's honest and it makes you want to be better. It gives good ideas about how to grow and do well in life, even when things are hard. It's so good that a lot of people want to read it to get inspired and reach their goals.

Some lessons you can learn from this book:

Don't run away from things that scare you. Face them to become stronger.

Difficulties make you tougher. Embrace them instead of avoiding them.

Keep going even when things get tough. Persistence helps you achieve your goals.

Your mind can make you go farther than you think. Train it to be strong.

Stop making excuses for not doing things. Take responsibility for your actions.

Aim high and set challenging goals. They'll push you to do your best.

Your body and mind can handle more than you believe. Push yourself past your limits.

Get comfortable with being uncomfortable. This is where growth happens.

Be around people who support and challenge you to be better.

No matter how tough things get, don't give up. Keep fighting for your dreams.

[celiciaa]

ELBERT GREETIA MAIN ROUTE....

CHAPTER ONE.

translations are not 100% accurate. expect mistakes.

trigger warning: blood

minors and ageless blogs dni.

In a quiet room with the sound of rippling waves, I pierce the butterfly's back with a needle.

——It’s another beautiful thing I have acquired.

I simply stare at the bright scales of butterflies spreading their wings in the picture frame, as if praying.

This will surely make the "two" happy.

Surely, surely——

A night has passed since the day I saw a spectacle that I shouldn't have seen in London at midnight.

I was able to avoid being killed by carrying out my duties as a "fairy tale master",

Time passed with no sense of reality, and I was once again greeted by the darkness of the night.

——From now on, I will accompany the crown on a mission for the first time.

Roger: Is the inn in question around the next crossroads?

Alfons: According to the information given in advance, yes.

Elbert:….

Mr. Roger, Mr. Alfons, and Lord Elbert——

I was walking through London at night with three companions.

Kate: I thought you said that a certain inn was a temporary storage place for…stolen art.

I was closely observing the "cursed" crowns’ behavior,

As it is my role as a "fairy tale master" to write them down.

(I want to fulfill my responsibilities properly, win their trust so that they can release me.)

(I still can't keep up with them…but I have to do my best.)

Roger: Don't be so hard on yourself, young lady.

Alfons: We are just going to investigate the actual situation, so it won't be too bloody. Surely.

Elbert:…..

Kate: Thank you for your concern, Mr. Roger, and Mr. Alfons.

(Well...if it is my job to write about the sins of the "cursed ones", then I must know about the "cursed".)

Kate: May I ask you all about your "curse"…?

Alfons: Fufu, our dear robin is very studious, isn't she?

Alfons: Lord El is the “Queen of Greed” and Roger is the “Traitor Hunter”. And I'm cursed with the "mirror".

Kate: Queen, hunter, mirror…..

Alfons: I wonder if those who appear in the same fairy tale are destined to interact with each other. (Snow white)

Roger: Haha. Where is Team Snow White?

Alfons: I'm very uncomfortable being lumped in with you, though.

Roger: Don't say that. Right, young lady?

Kate: Ahaha. I agree….

They both speak to me in a friendly way.

I am glad for their concern, but I can't help but smile.

(People who commit crimes on a daily basis…..)

(I'm just afraid to look them in the eye and talk to them.)

Elbert:…What's wrong?

Kate:…Eh?

With Lord Elbert’s words, I suddenly realized that the distance between them was widening.

Except for Lord Elbert, who stopped for a moment, the other two were moving on.

Elbert:…Are you all right?

Kate: I'm sorry, I was spacing out and...! I was thinking.

Elbert: I see. ….Be careful not to get lost.

Just as I was about to get back on my feet——

Elbert:….!

A passing man bumped into Lord Elbert.

Drunk man: Ha? What is it? What a strange, pretty person you are.

A man with staggered legs, barely able to stand upright, looks drunk.

Elbert:….

Drunk man: Let's have a drink, brother. With your treat. Ahahaha.

Elbert:…My apologies. I'm in a hurry.

Drunk man: Ah? Do you want to get your pretty face all messed up?

Lord Elbert is surprisingly unresistant to drunk people.

(I'm not sure what's going on, should I call Mr. Roger and Mr. Alfons?)

Kate: U–Umm…!

It was the next moment when impatience and question marks intersected on his head.

Drunk man: Uu…uuu…why did you throw me away…Eliza… *sobs*

Kate:…Eh?

The man who had been involved with Lord Elbert broke down and cried on the spot without warning.

(What happened all of a sudden…?)

Alfons: Your ability is still a joke as ever, I see.

When Alfons turned his heels, he approached Lord Elbert and laughed.

Kate: You mean…Lord Elbert’s ability is a joke?

Alfons: Yes. It awakens the saddest memories of those who stepped on the shadow.

Alfons: In other words, the other person becomes extremely depressed and dejected.

Roger: It's an ability that works better with people who've been through hard times, but the downside is that he has to choose the right person.

Kate: Depressed….

Still unable to stand up, I just stare at the man crying by the side of the road like an infant.

(This is Lord Elbert’s power.)

After seeing William's spectacular power to force people to commit suicide, it seemed like such a small power.

But——

Elbert:…I'm in a hurry. ....I’m sorry.

And then Lord Elbert used that seemingly insignificant power on a drunken man,

He looked sad as if he had committed a cruel crime.

(…Well, that's a little surprising.)

(I guess the cursed ones aren't exactly accustomed to using their powers either.)

Elbert:…Let’s go.

As we pass each other, Lord Elbert's hair shimmers in the street light.

His golden hair fluttering in the night breeze and his sorrowful profile subconsciously catch my eye.

(….How beautiful he is.)

His beauty was so overwhelming that I forgot for a moment my fears about the mission ahead.

Alfons: Well, the alley is ahead. We can find the inn we were aiming for.

Elbert: Yes.

Then Mr. Roger tilted his head while staring at the dimly lit alley.

Roger: Something strange. I can see a cheap hotel, and I'm sure there were quite a few guests.

Roger:…There is only one human heartbeat.

Kate: Heartbeat…?

I listen carefully, but all I can hear is a small whistling sound.

Alfons: Abnormal hearing is what this man is capable of.

Roger: At a distance of roughly 100 yards, I can tell exactly their location without looking.

Kate: That's great. ......But does that mean there is only one person at the inn?

Roger: Well, yeah.

Kate: Why on earth…..

Alfons: There's only one way to find out.

When I turned the corner into the alley that leads to the inn's back entrance——

(….!!)

——There was a horrifying sight.

Several bloodied people are lying in the alleyway.

A large amount of blood was spreading in the hallway seen from the open back door of the inn.

Kate:….Aah——

My instincts are telling me to run away.

However, as if sewn into place, my legs froze and I couldn't move.

At that moment——

My body was strongly pulled back, blocking the bloodstained scene.

Kate:…!?

My cheeks are pressed tightly against the soft, high-quality cloth.

(Blue cravat.)

Kate: Lord Elbert….?

When I finally realized that Lord Elbert was holding me close, I tried to raise my head.

Lord Elbert's hand was stronger than that, refraining my movements.

Elbert: ——You don't have to look.

(Eh…?)

Elbert:…Because sad memories can easily kill you.

Elbert: So, you don’t have to look.

A sad voice whispers in my ear.

Elbert: You have…nothing to do with what happens here.

Elbert:…You don’t have to carry on what you don’t have to take on. **

(Lord Elbert….)

His voice sounded like a prayer.

He was protecting me with his hand and hugged me tightly.

For some reason, I feel as if I am being clung to, and I hesitate to resist.

(Lord Elbert….you look like you're scared of something.)

Roger: This guy...is an innkeeper and a guest.

Alfons: Judging by the way he's dressed, I'd say there's no doubt about it.

I was listening to the voices of the two people watching the scene while being hugged, at that time——

???:….Uuu…uu…..

( ! That voice just now…..)

Mr. Roger's words about a single heartbeat come back to mind.

Kate: My apologies….!

Elbert:…!

Instinctively, I pushed back Lord Elbert’s chest and lifted my face.

I looked around and saw a woman lying on the corner of an alleyway, moving faintly.

(That woman….)

Kate: Is she okay….!?

Roger: We're not out of the woods yet, but it's dangerous.

Mr. Roger, who had rushed to her before I did, frowned and muttered something to me.

Roger: She needs immediate attention. Take her to the nearest hospital——

Roger:….!

Kate: Mr. Roger? What’s wrong?

Roger: The police are coming. Two….No, three of them.

(Police…?)

Alfons: Then there's no need to stay long. Let's move on.

(What!?)

Kate: What about this woman——?

Roger: Our mission(The crown) is confidential. We have to lay low for now.

Mr. Roger's annoyed profile makes it clear that he doesn't mean what he says, and he swallows his rebuttal.

(But what if the police didn't notice her….?)

I quickly took out a handkerchief and pulled it over the lamp directly above her.

(This should be enough to keep her from being identified. I'm sure they’ll notice her as soon as possible….)

While praying for her safety, I followed the three of them and hid in the shadows.

I will ask how things are going from a little distance away——

The police arrived and I saw her being carried away immediately.

Kate:…I’m glad….

(…I hope she’ll be safe.)

Elbert:….

——We had to call it a day and return to the castle.

But I couldn't eat the food that was brought to my room, nor could I sleep…..

In order to change my mind, I was walking alone in the garden that was too large.

━━FLASHBACK━━

(Tonight, I've only witnessed the aftermath of someone's crime.)

(But someday I may end up seeing such a scene made by the crowns’ hands.)

━━FLASHBACK ENDS━━

(I don't know if I'm capable of….writing it down.) // (I don't know if I can….write that down.)

While thinking about such things, as I walk along the path——

(…..Lord Elbert?)

I found Lord Elbert gazing at the flowers in a daze.

It was like he’s wearing a veil of moonlight. The sight of this painting-like figure again captivated my eyes.

Elbert: Hm…oh…it’s you. Good evening.

Kate: Good evening, Lord Elbert….

Lord Elbert must have sensed something when he saw my face, and tilted his head languidly.

Elbert:….Can't sleep?

Kate:��Yes. So, for a change, I'm going to take a walk.

Elbert: I see….

Kate: What are you doing here, Lord Elbert?

Elbert: I suppose…I'm in a similar case. …..I've always been a short sleeper.

Kate: I see…..

Elbert: That's why…I can become someone to talk to when you can't sleep.

Kate:….!

The way his words seem to be soft and gentle made me feel better.

(If it had been last night, I might have been wary of even his thoughtfulness…..)

Kate:…Thank you very much.

Aware of my wariness, which was beginning to fade, I took one step at a time toward Lord Elbert.

(That's right...just now, I still haven't been able to say thank you properly.)

Kate: Thank you for protecting me earlier.

Elbert:….No. ….In the end, I showed you a cruel sight.

Kate: I wanted to see it, so don't worry.

I tried to sound cheerful, but Lord Elbert looked at me as he narrowed his eyes painfully.

Elbert: If they hadn't taken you to that place...you never would have tried to see it.

Elbert: You’re different from us. …..You shouldn't have come here.

Elbert:…Sin doesn't suit you.

Lord Elbert’s emotions don't show up very often. nevertheless….

I could see the unclouded pity in his eyes, which were like the bottom of the deep sea.

(You're the one whose sins don't suit you.)

At that time——

━━FLASHBACK━━

Even though there was no knife or bullet pointed at me, and my life was not in danger, he tried to protect me.

(I'm sure...so that my heart won't be hurt by the cruel sight.)

(That time, the strength of his arm.)

(It was as if he was afraid I would get hurt.)

━━FLASHBACK ENDS━━

(If he didn't feel anything at that scene, he wouldn't have done that.)

I was told that the people of the Crown feel the same fears, anxieties, and sadness as I do——

I realized again what is very obvious.

Kate: You are very kind, Lord Elbert.

Elbert:….That's not true.

I cherish people's thoughts and feelings. That was my goal in life.

(That's why I chose to work as a postwoman.)

(No matter what kind of crimes Lord Elbert and the others commit from now on, the feelings that are there and——)

Kate:….Thank you for your concern.

Kate: But it's okay if you don't protect me this time.

Elbert:…Why?

Kate: You may come to know a lot of things would be happier if you didn't know.

Kate: I want to know what you are thinking….as you face these things.

I smiled, wanting to respond to Lord Elbert's inclination to be kind, even if only a little——

Elbert:…..

But Lord Elbert stared at me without blinking.

(….?)

The eyes that were fixed on me were very serious, and I instantly felt uncomfortable.

(Ah...I wonder if it was rude to say that you don't have to protect me this time, even though you're worried about me.)

I felt that his overwhelmingly beautiful face became even more powerful when he became silent, and I couldn't help but gasp.

Kate: Umm….

Elbert:….Stay still.

As we suddenly closed the distance, Lord Elbert brushed my hair.

Elbert:…There were petals in your hair.

Kate:…Uh.

Kate: Thank you very much….

(….I see. He was just looking at the petals.)

(I’m glad…)

To calm my beating heart down, I quietly stepped away from Lord Elbert for a little while.

Kate: Well then, if you'll excuse me. I should get some sleep for tomorrow.

Elbert:…Do you think you can sleep?

Kate: Yes, thanks to Lord Elbert.

Elbert: I see...then, good for you.

Elbert:…Good night, Kate.

Kate: Good night, Lord Elbert.

(….I don't know why.)

(But I can't stop thinking about the way Lord Elbert looked at me just now…..)

His abyssal blue eyes burning into mine.

Even after I turned on my heel, his gaze seemed to follow me from behind——

Oddly enough, my heart was stirring. // Strangely, my chest felt tight.

The next morning, my steps to the dining hall were lighter than yesterday.

Kate: Good morning.

William: Good morning. ….Your complexion looks better this morning.

Roger: See? She came here all right, didn't she?

Alfons: I suppose I lost the bet.

Kate: O—Oh, you were betting?

Alfons: Indeed. By now I was betting that you would tear the curtains apart and tie them back together and escape through the window.

(They even thought I was escaping…..)

Liam: This morning, Victor's special scones with extra butter! Kate, do you have an appetite?

Kate: Yes! I missed dinner yesterday and I am starving.

Alfons: Fufu, you are surprisingly strong.

(I'm still a little nervous...but I think I can manage.)

When I decided to face their thoughts and feelings this morning, I was able to look into their faces more closely than I had yesterday.

Elbert is staring at Kate as she begins to eat while exchanging words with everyone.

Elbert:…Al, isn’t she beautiful?

Alfons: No, not at all?

Elbert:…I don't think so.

Alfons:…..

Alfons: This is going to be a little...troublesome.

 ▸       [  next ]

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for not getting my coworkers holiday gifts?

Sorry in advance for the long ask, I have adhd so I'm not always great at figuring out what's relevant to the topic lmao. I (29M) have been working at my current workplace since I graduated college (so ~7 years). For the first few years I worked pretty much alone. I have a close working relationship with my supervisors, and I have a lot of interns filter through, but I was the only person at my 'level' of work, if that makes sense. I would write cards for my supervisors, and with my interns I would do something like bake cookies for everyone, or take them all out for dinner (to clarify I always have at minimum 3-4 interns, I wasn't just taking someone I was in charge of out for a one on one dinner lmao).

Last year, four more people were hired who work in the same position/level as me (early 20s-mid 30s, all F). I get along with them alright as coworkers, but they are all much closer with each other than I am with them. They didn't know eachother before starting here, but I make a lot of effort keeping distance between my work and personal life, vs they have all become friends outside of work. I also have enough issues with them that I wouldn't want to be friends with them outside of work (very condensed version is that I am openly aroace and they are Weird about it). I am firm about keeping boundaries/distance though and that makes it easier to deal with them.

Again, we work together really well when we're actually talking about work-- it's just the non-work stuff that I don't really vibe with. Also, their level of friendship is very normal in our workplace/field, since we are in a very very rural area where the tiny little town we're in is almost entirely centered around the one industry/company that we're at. The fact that I'm not friends outside of work with my coworkers gives me a reputation for being weird/cold (but I don't care if I seem weird as long as it means I can keep some distance).

Last year, we all talked about Xmas gifts, and decided that we wouldn't get each other anything, but rather just pitch in for some wine and fancy pastries for a mini office party. It was nice, except then right before Christmas I found a gift on my desk from one of them (like, a 50$ gift, which is quite expensive considering how much we make). I asked her about it, saying I appreciated it but didn't have anything since we agreed not to get eachother gifts. She said something like she didn't expect anything, just wanted to get me something. I thanked her and but was uncomfortable enough that I ended up giving the thing to a friend of mine (who knew it was a re-gift and was happy to have it lol). I didn't plan to get anything, except then I found out that the other three had all consequently gotten eachother and me gifts as a result of her. I talked to the one coworker I get along best with, and she agreed with me that it would now be rude to not give anything in return, so I just got everyone relatively impersonal gifts (books).

However, finances are tight this year for me (coworkers don't know that) due to some medical bills. We are doing an office cookie exchange, and again agreed not to get each other gifts, but one of them (same one who started this last year) hinted that she had 'a little something' for each of us anyways, but no need to reciprocate.

If it's relevant, we are in the US, all white, and all varying degrees of atheist/agnostic/ex-christian.

No idea if this will even get out of the queue before Xmas lol but: WIBTA if i stuck to our agreement to not get my coworkers Christmas gifts, even if they get me gifts anyways?

What are these acronyms?

[waywardsculs]

This place is a ℂ𝕀ℝℂ𝕌𝕊,

you just see the surface They cover shit under the rug

You can't see they're 𝔽𝔸𝕂𝕀ℕ𝔾,

they'll never be naked

Just fill your drink with tonic gin,

this is the American dream

Hey yo what's up you filthy fucking sinners welcome to my little multimuse blog for Vivziepop's HAZBIN HOTEL and HELLUVA BOSS , featuring characters like VELVETTE , LILITH and FIZZAROLLI .

That said, I go by Ritsu, She/Her or They/Them, 30, Australian and just generally tryna chill. You can find my rules below.

AFFILIATED WITH: @bittcnneck , @hellshoard , @cxncrie , @ochtendster / @dageraadster , @sinfuldxgenerates ♥

Header & Promo Credit. || Pinned Credit. Dash Icon Credit. || Icon Template Credit. MDNI & 18+ Warning Credit. || Divider Credit.

IMPORTANT NOTE : if you ship adam with charlie, for both of us, it would be best you do not follow me if you don't intend to tag it. i'm sorry, but it makes me so vehemently uncomfortable that i just would prefer to keep my distance.

Keep the setting of the show in mind when looking to interact. Not all muses will be friendly or even remotely nice. Don't take it personally.

I'll be as canon divergent as I feel like. Let's face it, the second we take up writing a character we're making shit that ain't ever gonna be canon. Let's just have fun.

Muse ≠ Mun. Shouldn't have to say this, but I will anyway. Some muses might be assholes, but I try not to be. You're free to come talk to me any time, I'm usually just tired lmao.

I will not be following any pre-conceived relationships with OCs unless specifically discussed prior to interaction. For example, one of my OCs (Ambriel) has her main story tied to Velvette, being that she works for her, however this only applies to my Velvette. I will not push this on any others who write Velvette, and I expect the same in return.

I am very into shipping. Our muses should kiss. Bang. Fuck around. You know what it is. I'm a ship hoe and I don't care.

NSFW content may be present. I'll make sure it's tagged as #nsfw cw or #suggestive cw for easy blocking if you guys need it, but don't be surprised if it shows up from time to time. You shouldn't be, not with the nature of the show.

Mutuals only. Meaning you need to be following this blog and be followed in return from my main blog for us to count as mutuals. If you are using a hub blog, please have your blog(s) linked somewhere so I know who you are. Otherwise I block personals on sight.

Due to personal reasons, I will only ever touch on angst threads / content in general with people I feel I can trust immensely. Please do not push me for this. I may also post occasional ideas, but I will be very picky about who I explore these with.

Every ship is in its own verse and completely separate from one another. There will never be any form of infidelity occurring on this blog in any way. To expand on this, I also will not partake in any polyships or any situations where my muse has more than one romantic or sexual partner.

I never try to hide the fact that I do struggle with my mental health a lot, and I cannot stress enough that I need any and all of my partners to be understanding with it. I have been formally diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, General Anxiety Disorder, Social Anxiety Disorder, Major Depressive Disorder and Autism Spectrum Disorder. All of this is by no means an excuse in any way for anything, I simply hope this may help explain some of my behaviour at times.

I have a life away from Tumblr. I won't always be around to write replies or chat. That's how life is. I work, I have responsibilities, and those take priority.

I don't do passwords/pass phrases. If I follow you, it's safe to assume I've read your rules. I always do before following anyone.

I'm not here for drama. I know you see this everywhere, but I'll be real - I barely have the spoons to live lately. I just wanna vibe and enjoy a hobby, not take part in any bullshit. Leave me out of things unless it's absolutely imperative I know about something.

No art on this blog is mine unless I openly state otherwise. The usual. Let's leave it at that babes.

Ships I Will Not Write / Do Not Like

I will not be elaborating on why I dislike them or won't write them. These are simply things I've found I really don't like and, if possible, would prefer tagged so I can simply block them.

AdamsApple (Adam/Lucifer), Velmilla (Velvette/Carmilla), Charlastor/Radiobelle (Alastor/Charlie), Valentino/Angel Dust, Adam/Charlie, Valentino/Charlie

MY OTHER BLOGS @constellaris / @snowaliity / @viindicators

[coffeeandmagicaltales]

The Auror & The Devil part 9

(FLUFF, cozy, nothing really happens, grab your tea/coffee & enjoy) MCxAESOP SHARP

*

The August sun has been rarely seen lately from behind the foggy curtain; most of the Highlands were shrouded in stormy clouds and mist.

Aesop wasn't sure if it was drizzling or if he had entered a tangle of fog, hiding under his umbrella as he walked slowly along the muddy road, supporting himself with a cane.

He was in an area mostly inhabited by Muggles and preferred not to attract attention with a transparent, enchanted umbrella. He stopped for a moment at a crossroads, checking which way he should turn. A black carriage passed by, pulled by horses.

"Lost, sir?" shouted the driver, an old man with a bushy beard, but Aesop denied it, cursing his pride silently. He knew where he was ten minutes ago, and in that time, much had changed.

"Just a moment!" he called, changing his mind, and the stranger stopped the horses. "I'm looking for Marcus Dimm's brewery... Do you know it?"

"Oh, certainly, it's not far. Please, have a seat next to me, I'll give you a ride, but just a short distance, as the brewery is not exactly on my way... Billy Sommerset, at your service."

"Aesop Sharp," he mumbled, grabbing the extended hand. Billy pulled him up, and Aesop clumsily climbed the steps and finally took his seat, silently thanking himself for putting pride into his colorful socks. After a moment, the whip cracked, and the horses started moving.

"It's easy to get lost here, and you, sir, seem not from around here at first glance. I don't recognize the name either... I've seen similar ones on people who recently returned from Africa, have you been there maybe?" Billy tapped his cheek with his finger and glanced at Sharp, intrigued by his scar.

"I'd rather not talk about it..." he answered wisely, having no idea what Sommerset was talking about, and lapsed into silence.

"Well, terrible what happened to our folks under Congella... My neighbor, a young lad, didn't come back. We live in strange times... I've been a witness to too many untimely deaths lately, it's a bad omen... I feel in my bones that something bad is brewing, not that I'm a pessimist... Every moment there's some trouble, they fight somewhere, and they keep inventing worse weapons for war..."

"I guess that's the price of progress..." Aesop confessed with a heavy heart, frowning. "In the wrong hands, it becomes a curse."

"True words..." the man muttered, nodding. "I see you're your own man, Sharp, and I'll tell you in secret, I don't understand this notion that someone deserves something more than someone else because they have a different skin tone or were born in a prettier house... In the end, I take them all on a ride..."

He gestured with his head towards the inside of the carriage. Sharp only now noticed that behind the black curtains, there was a coffin jumping happily on every stone. He felt very uncomfortable, and regretted looking back.

"Old Dimm has been sick lately too..." Billy confessed with sadness. "Morana, his adopted daughter, is doing her best to help him... She's a good girl, a woman to be precise, I don't believe she's 16." Sharp twitched at the sound of the familiar name and felt a pleasant warmth growing inside him. He straightened up in his seat and suppressed a smile. "...Well, she's strange, I can say, and I'm almost certain she's a witch."

"Oh, really?" Sharp pretended to be surprised, focusing all his strong will on not bursting into laughter. Billy nodded, wiped his nose with a checkered handkerchief, and continued.

"You have no idea... A real she-devil. A black cat circles around her, and lately, she brought a sick horse home... I don't know, I don't know... A peculiar beast, heh, no one believes me because no one supposedly saw it, as if it was invisible... Don't be scared when you see it... Here, have some garlic, just in case..."

Suddenly, a clove of garlic appeared in Aesop's hand. He didn't know exactly what to do with it, so he thanked and promised to use it, putting it in his pocket. The rattle of the wheels soon stopped, and they halted at a crossroads.

"I'm turning right," Billy announced and helped Sharp get down, then glanced at his pocket watch. "Almost noon... In a few minutes, Morana should be passing through here. I saw her going to town in the morning; she'll be coming back this way soon. If you tell her you have business with Marcus, she'll surely take you with her. Nice to meet you, Sharp, and I don't say see you soon!" Billy burst into a ridiculous laughter, revealing his missing teeth, nodded, grabbing the brim of his hat, and tugged the reins, signaling the horses to move.

"Likewise, Sommerset." Aesop nodded appreciatively at the gravedigger's dark humor and, leaning against a road sign, watched the carriage go. Waiting for a few minutes didn't seem like a bad prospect, especially since it had stopped drizzling... Well, at least in theory, a few minutes were bearable, but suddenly it started to feel unbearably long, and Sharp, out of impatience, limped back and forth. His thoughts circled solely around Morana... Nervously, he ran his hand through his hair and adjusted his tie. He wasn't sure if meeting her was a good idea. After all, she proposed it herself, but there was nothing stopping him from politely refusing, which he didn't. At that time, it seemed like a pretty good idea and a distraction from the lack of activity during the day... Now, however, he was afraid he might be bothering her... Visits from an acquaintance were probably the last thing the Dimms wanted now, especially her. After all, in a way, she was at work, busy with brewery matters, family...

"Are you going to Scarborough Fair?"

His heart pounded harder; the sound of hooves and the rattle of wheels mixed with a singing voice he knew so well.

"Morana," he whispered, but the smile faded from his face, and each subsequent word of the refrain pierced his heart like a thorn.

"Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme..."

He remembered when he last heard those words. A small cart emerged from behind the hill with a few barrels, pulled by a Shetland pony and its accompanying thestral, its wings masked by a blanket.

"Remember me to one who lives there, for once he was a true love of..."

She fell silent upon seeing Aesop, and he could see from afar how her face lit up with a pearly smile. She raced the horses and sharply halted near him. She loved dramatic entrances.

"Hi," she said quickly, catching her breath, and the smile didn't leave her face as she jumped down and shook the mud clumps off her worn dress. Taking Aesop's umbrella and cane, she tossed them somewhere between the barrels. In the meantime, Sharp patted Hranolka's neck, who demanded affection once she recognized him. Mora grabbed his arm and helped him climb onto the seat.

"Good to see you..." He whispered, and as they set off, he began to tell her about how he got lost and encountered the gravedigger, asking Mora for details about the war Sommerset mentioned, taking every opportunity to sneak a glance at her. Her appearance was slightly different from what he was accustomed to, and he wanted to examine her and not wanting to embarrass her by his stare at the same time. The nightsky of a thousand freckles on her sun-kissed face had increased by several dozen, forming constellations unknown to him. The makeup was also a novelty; her style seemed to deviate from the fashion of subtle colors accepted in both the wizarding and Muggle worlds. Hmm... However, upon reflection, he immediately concluded that the dark, almost autumnal colors on her eyelids, along with the black, thick lines ending with a sharp edge, suited her excellently and reflected her character. Just like the golden earrings she didn't wear at school but now twinkled on the lobes and petals of her ears. He smiled at the sight of the golden star in her nose, which he noticed only when she rubbed it with delicate fingers adorned with numerous rings, as a stray strand escaped from her bun and tickled her. She always seemed modest to him, but here she was: earrings, a Deathly Hallows-themed necklace, jingling bracelets... He was quite surprised, but what could he expect - she was an adult woman, and she probably bought quite expensive jewelry with the money she earned selling ingredients collected during her escapades. Some of the earrings looked almost like goblin work, which immediately intrigued him, and he tried to remember to ask about them someday. Yes, she looked "different," but she was herself; every little movement and gaze of her blue eyes was familiar to him. And her terrible, charming laughter when he showed her the garlic from Billy... He understood how much he missed it... Missed her.

"You won't really satisfy yourself with garlic..." he mumbled upon hearing the rumbling in her stomach and handed her a cupcake wrapped in fabric, which was almost immediately unpacked by her and entirely stuffed into her mouth. He knew perfectly well that, as usual, she left without breakfast, and then didn't have time for it. "Slow down..." he laughed. "Thanks Salazar, I also made a few for the Dimms... Well, to be honest I feel a bit awkward coming at not the best moment..."

"Few people visit them lately; they will be happy." Mora assured him, speaking with a mouthful and placing her hand on his forearm. "Mr. Dimm feels a bit better, but he has to rest..."

"Wiggenweld potion probably did its job..." Sharp mumbled, looking at her askance, and she blushed. "I'm sure you gave it to him because, from what you wrote to me a week ago, he wasn't doing well. In a way... you did the right thing, but I don't want you to have trouble with the Ministry because of it. It believes that Muggles should be treated by doctors, not us... Ugh, don't look at me like that; I don't agree with everything they come up with, I'm just telling you the rules in the wizarding world."

"I added few drops to his tea, no one saw." she muttered, rolling her eyes and blushing.

"It would be right to ask him first if he agrees to alternative treatment. You probably wouldn't want me to dose you with my elixirs without your knowledge, even if they were supposed to help you..."

"Hmm, let me remind you the bottle of liquor they agreed to anything after one drink..." she nudged Sharp's side with her elbow, who nervously cleared his throat.

"Well... I just brewed it... Fig used it."

Morana laughed upon hearing his awkward attempt to explain himself. After a while, however, she became serious and admitted very quietly, "You're right... Next time, I'll ask for their permission, but I panicked... The fever didn't want to go away... Besides, they don't quite understand who I am; I don't want to scare them..."

"Did you talk to them about it?"

"I tried..."

Aesop raised an eyebrow.

"No, you didn't." he summed up, which deep down annoyed Mora but at the same time gave her a strange pleasure. The smirk, which slightly lifted the corners of his mouth, and the peculiar, sly look from under his dark lashes, which literally read her like an open book, disarmed and confused her. She liked the feeling caused by his intelligence and sharp wit.

It felt like she had said goodbye to him yesterday... It was over a month ago. Only a week and a half ago, she received a letter from him informing her about his small investigation and wanting to summarize what he had learned so far. She suggested a meeting, and they agreed on a date that suited both of them. Nothing special. Just a meeting. But no visit from her friends flooded her with such a sense of calm and comfort. She always stressed about someone's visits, wanted to make the best impression, and sometimes, wanting to please everyone (as was the case with Ominis, where butterflies in her stomach flew like possessed, turning her mind into jelly), she overdid it, which always ended with burnt cake or spilled drinks. Aesop Sharp made all her fears take a break, and they seemed to go for a beer to Sirona, leaving her alone with him and his extraordinary gentleness. The sun had slightly burned his nose and bony cheeks, which now had the color of beet soup. She had the impression that he must have dozed off somewhere in the shade recently, probably dreaming of fluffy nifflers, and during that time, the sun had peeked out from hiding and maliciously turned him red... Occasionally, he unconsciously rubbed the itchy skin with his hand. She found it amusing how his pale complexion quickly surrendered to the unusually warm summer. His British soul must have sighed in relief because it had been raining almost non-stop for a few days. Adorable.

"Poor, silly Aesop," she thought, smiling broadly. There was something different about him than usual. Maybe it was the grumpy grimace that had completely disappeared from his face along with the shadows under his eyes. He must have rested quite well, and it seemed to suit him, as he appeared more relaxed; his muscles weren't tense, as if he expected some apocalypse triggered by Garreth at any moment, and his sunken cheeks gained a bit more substance. At school, he ate fairly normally, and when he had too much work, Morana (not seeing him at the Faculty Table) would come to his class to remind him about dinner. Hmmm, sometimes he got so absorbed in his work, wanting to finish checking hundreds of essays on time, that he forgot about his hunger. When he told students that their papers would be returned the next week, it had to be the next week, and nothing could change that because he always kept his word, honorably, as a Slytherin... although, it often turned against him. Morana felt a bit sad, remembering how, towards the end of the semester, he panicked when he lost someone's essay and couldn't find it. They both searched for it for several hours, and only when he casted Levioso on one of the potion-making stations, and Morana crawled under it, did she find the mischievous parchment. It was supposed to be checked the next day, and her assurance that nothing would happen if he told the student to wait one more day completely failed to convince Aesop.

"Submit... not on time?..." he said with a slightly trembling, frightened voice. "No, no, no, Mora, that's a bad idea... I can handle it; there are still 3 hours left..."

"... Until 8 in the morning," she interjected, frowning, raising black eyebrows, and squinting her eyes. His eyes involuntarily closed, and every few moments, he discreetly yawned. Morana could barely stand on her feet, and her tongue seemed to produce words created by her mind with a delay when presenting arguments for him to postpone work and go to sleep. However, he insisted, sat down to read, and that was the end of it. Frightened by the prospect of breaking his promise or maybe appearing as an incompetent teacher, this fear often kept him awake at night, that something would not be done on time, that he would explain something wrong, and as an expert, he should know everything. He tried to control everything, and he took each lesson very seriously, something that practically no one except Morana seemed to notice. Maybe stress was taking its toll, and despite a good diet, it consumed him from the inside. He always looked good, dressed in an immaculate suit that smelled of his cologne (she could almost locate him in the castle by following the trail in the air), well-groomed beard, and perfectly combed hair... and now he looked almost radiant... Could anything be the reason for this other than the vacation? Someone?

Their eyes met. Aesop smiled shyly.

"I wonder what you told them about me? That person coming to them today is... who? Santa?"

Morana cleared her throat.

"A teacher."

"Hmmm, wonder which subject? Arts and Crafts?" he sneered sarcastically, thinking his joke was successful. His large hands, his height, gloomy clothes, and a menacing expression were rather the opposite of his idea of a typical artist, whether Muggle or wizard – someone dressed in colorful patterns, covered in paint, contemplative, and ethereal.

"Well, you could be one; you have extraordinary talent," Morana replied in a thoughtful voice, regretting that she hadn't thought of it before, because his drawings and sculptures spoke for themselves. Aesop blushed at the sound of the compliment and withdrew into himself, regretting bringing up the subject. "... but I said you teach chemistry; it seems to be the closest to what you do."

"Merlin..." he muttered, rolling his eyes, preparing for what was probably going to be the most abstract conversation in his life. "It will be funny."

*

From behind the mane of golden fields shimmering on the hill, a small farm emerged near the oak grove, surrounded by picturesque hills. Twisting, rocky paths and low walls separated the fields where sheep grazed. The barn, built of grey stone and roofed with slate, had been converted into a brewery. Between the tiles, a not-too-high, smoking chimney protruded. Wide doors, through which cows must have entered in the past, were now flanked on both sides by barrels labeled with a red emblem reading "DIMM'S BREWERY Finest beer est. 1790." They extended along the wall under a small, long, angular cottage attached to it, whose right half had been converted into a stable for a pony and a small carriage.

Aesop sniffed, sensing the intoxicatingly sweet aroma in the air, which he deduced as malt, bringing to mind something between caramel and raw bread dough that his mom often made without magic. Wait a minute... he thought. He recognized that smell. Sometimes, that's how Morana's parchment smelled when she handed it in for assessment or even her clothes when she returned to school after a weekend spent at the Dimms'.

Morana, just beyond the gate with a sign that read "DIMM'S BREWERY Finest beer est. 1790," stopped the horses and helped Aesop dismount onto the slippery cobblestone surface that covered the entire courtyard. She immediately handed him a cane and an umbrella. The stable boys, having greeted them, started unpacking barrels marked with a red label reading "BUTTER BEER." Morana quickly detached the pony and rushed Hranolka to the stable. Aesop wondered whether the men could see the thestral or if they weren't entirely aware of her presence in the brewery. The pony trotted slowly behind the winged beast, and they quickly reached the feed. Morana unhooked their bridles, hanging them on a hook, and led Sharp towards the cottage.

The modest rural dwelling was very well-kept; the windows sparkled with cleanliness, flowers bloomed in pots, and bees and bumblebees buzzed around them when it stopped raining. The cobblestone was cleared of all weeds and unwanted leaves. Aesop rarely visited the Muggle world, but the only difference he saw for now was the lack of magical pruning shears trimming the flowers in the pots. He felt completely at ease and, for safety, tucked his wand deep into his sleeve, not wanting to feel too comfortable and reach for it in the company of Morana's adoptive family.

The woman shook the dust off her patched dress and confidently entered the house, giving Aesop a wide smile and a chin nod to follow her. Sharp felt a bit uneasy, which always accompanied him during meetings with people he didn't know at all. He wiped his sweaty hands on his coat, and leaning awkwardly to avoid hitting his forehead against one of the beams, he took an uncertain step inside. In the brightly colored light from the stained glass windows, the room was very cozy. Warm colors dominated, hand-knitted tablecloths and napkins, patchwork throws on sofas and armchairs arranged around a pleasantly glowing fireplace. The floor creaked crisply with each of his steps, mixing with the clinking of a wooden spoon hitting an enamel pot, which Mrs. Dimm, standing by the stove, was stirring, as Aesop deduced from the smell, a carrot soup. The only problem was the... very low ceiling. Sharp tilted his head unnaturally, fearing a too-close encounter between his forehead and one of the beams, and removed his coat, hanging it on the hook near the door. Seeing that Morana had taken off her shoes, he cursed under his breath that he had to wear his crazy socks today, his lucky ones with nifflers chasing after coins. Leaning against the wall, he dealt with his footwear, not wanting to expose himself to anyone's disapproval by not following the rules in this household, despite the knee that had been bothering him a bit more for the past few days.

Morana approached Mrs. Dimm and, gently touching her shoulder, whispered very quietly that Professor Aesop Sharp had arrived.

"Yes, I know, I heard you laughing from afar already," she replied in a whisper and, patting Morana's hand affectionately, turned towards the guest, removing her apron.

"Well, well, what a sense of hearing she got..." Aesop thought, greeting her and bowing low, observing how the face of the gray-haired woman with rosy cheeks suddenly brightened with a broad smile.

"Please come in, have a seat wherever you're comfortable, I'll be right there!" she gestured with her hand, indicating the living room area. "Mo, fetch some water and please make tea, you must be freezing!"

"Mo, how lovely..." Aesop smiled, hearing Morana being referred to with a term of endearment he would have never thought of. For a moment, he stood still, contemplating this, and how well it suited Morana, then, the clinking of a spoon, which Mrs. Dimm dropped by accident on the floor, snapped him out of his thoughts. Morana went to fetch water from the well, and Aesop hobbled to help the elderly woman left in the kitchen by picking up the lost utensil.

"Can I help you with anything?" he offered, handing her a spoon, which the woman grabbed quite awkwardly, intriguing him instantly. She looked in a slightly different direction than his face when assuring him that she had everything under control, and at that moment, Aesop was sure she bwas blind. For a split second, he felt sorry for her, but he had no intention of asking intrusive questions. Seizing this moment, he very quietly took a shrunken cupcake tin secured with fabric from his pocket and, with the discreetest wand movement he had ever performed, enlarged and heated it. The scent immediately intrigued Mrs. Dimm.

"I brought a little treat for you..." he mumbled shyly. His legs were trembling. Damn, he could have taken a sip of Felix Felicis, but of course, Aesop Sharp from the past considered it foolish.

"Oh, you didn't have to!" she smiled and, sliding her hand over the countertop, found an empty plate. "Could you arrange them? I'm afraid I might scatter them all over the room." she chuckled. "Please don't be afraid of me; just make yourself comfortable. I hear you're a bit... hmmm... nervous."

Aesop's lips tightened into a line, so thin it practically disappeared from his face. He fidgeted, trying to string together some sentences, but Mrs. Dimm found his arm in the air and, patting it affectionately, signaled him to take a comfortable seat and let her finish the soup, which was starting to bubble dangerously. Morana squeezed into the room carrying two buckets of water, and with a mischievous smile to Aesop, she began to brew tea. He sat sunk in a chair that was too soft and small for him, looking at the cupcakes on the plate before him or nervously glancing at Morana in search of rescue, as if he were expecting a conversation with Professor Black at the very least.

Finally, both women sat on the sofa opposite him. Morana handed him a teacup, carefully observing his trembling hand.

"Is everything okay?" her concerned look asked, and Aesop nodded.

"My husband is feeling a bit unwell today and is resting upstairs, I apologize that he couldn't come down to greet you..." Mrs. Dimm said quietly, and Aesop immediately assured her that it was no problem and apologized for intruding at such a moment.

Mrs. Dimm smiled broadly. "You have a truly beautiful voice," she confessed unexpectedly, immediately met with Morana's sharp look and a stern "tsk" that came out of her mouth, that which amused Aesop. The old woman completely ignored her and continued, "Only that accent... Hmmm... London? No, no... That's not it... Oxford, yes. You come from higher spheres, don't you, Mr. Sharp? It's rare to hear someone speak in a similar way around here... but... You don't behave like one of them; you know the local customs as if you've lived in the Highlands for some time." She took a sip of tea and reached for a cupcake, and a sly smile danced on her lips.

It surprised him that he found a resemblance to Morana in her... Some words lingered when she spoke, the specific manner of talking, wise words... The list of such details was undoubtedly long, and he couldn't wait to start discovering them all.

"I see you have a detective's soul," he confessed jokingly. "Yes, my father is from Oxford, and I spent many years working in London by his side. My entire childhood, on the other hand, with Mummy, right in those areas."

"I knew it!" Mrs. Dimm exclaimed, almost spilling her tea, pleased with her deduction. "I love listening to detective novels; I have a whole little library, and I always dreamed of becoming an officer..." Aesop glanced towards a sizable bookcase, its shelves bent from an excess of literature. "Unfortunately... I was born blind, and a career at Scotland Yard was quickly knocked out of my head."

"Well..." Aesop cleared his throat, feeling that she might be impressed, even though he didn't quite know what Scotland Yard was. "I was a detective for almost fifteen years..."

Mrs. Dimm took in a large amount of air, and Aesop had the impression that she would start squeaking in delight any moment now. However, she composed herself and turned to Morana.

"Darling, why didn't you tell me about it earlier?"

"Mrs. Dimm, Professor Sharp needs some rest, and you probably wouldn't want him to come and tell stories all the time." Morana laughed, giving Aesop a meaningful look.

"Well, it probably would be like that..." she admitted with a sad smile, fidgeting with her legs like an impatient child. "Mo only told me that you ended your previous job, which you genuinely loved, earlier due to an accident. She didn't specify what happened, but I heard that you limp, and it's probably the result of what happened... It must have been a difficult decision... But well, life writes various scenarios... Unexpected... Often it takes away the dreams we want to give us what we need."

Mrs. Dimm's words touched Aesop deeply.

"I'm not surprised that Morana is so brilliant since she's under your care," he confessed quietly, with a soft voice, looking at Mora, who blushed and lowered her gaze.

"Hmmm..." Mrs. Dimm smiled, and her thoughts drifted towards memories. She adjusted herself on the sofa and took a sip of tea. "I don't know much about your past, but there's something in you that makes me think I can share our story... Morana is quite reserved towards people, but the way she speaks of you and trusts you... suggests to me that I can add a few details to the story known to everyone in the area... Many years we tried for a child with my husband, and when we finally succeeded and the baby came into the world... we only managed to give it a name before letting it go in our arms. I couldn't recover for a long time, and the fact that Marcus had to work, often traveling, did not help. But eventually, time healed our wounds... And so we immersed ourselves in everyday life, which didn't mean we weren't happy; on the contrary... But one day, the mailman brought me a letter in which Marcus chaotically wrote about a girl sleeping in a pile of hops between our barrels... We immediately decided to take her in, even though we were advised against it, told that she was a little witch, a devil, that there were many 'well-behaved' girls we could adopt... Ugh, as if adoption were a market, monstrous. We saw it as a sign, as magic. Little Mo had a spirited character and reminded me of myself from childhood." Aesop watched Morana closely, who looked in a different direction, and her face was covered in shadows. It was evident that she felt uncomfortable, as if someone were talking about someone else entirely, not about her. Suddenly, she stood up, announcing that she would take the soup to Mr. Dimm, slipped out of the room.

Mrs. Dimm, hearing the creak of the chair, gestured with her hand for Aesop not to stop her and sat down.

"Stubborn, always covered in mud, and seeking adventures." she continued in a calm voice. "We never prohibited her from doing what she loved, and even though she disappeared for a few days, she always returned to us with spruce branches in her hair, a few bruises, and sometimes even a knocked-out milk tooth. I forbade Marcus from punishing her because it worked the opposite of intentions... I know because I experienced it firsthand when my father often whipped me with a belt... And yet, I ran away even more, which might seem strange given my disability, but I always found a way to navigate the terrain and reach my goal... Anyway, my father was definitely someone I didn't want to be for Morana..."

"I know something about that..." Aesop interjected quietly. "My father didn't spare the belt and cane on me, which was one of the main reasons my mother left him. I know his raised voice and often his fist were a sign of his helplessness and stupidity... As is any violence against the weaker ones."

"Hmmm... I'm glad Morana found someone on her level... Although I've met all her friends and think they're wonderful, especially Mr. Gaunt, with whom I have a lot in common... They're still children and look at many things differently than Morana, or don't think about them at all. I knew there was something special about you because Morana didn't talk much about you, unlike practically everyone else. (Oh, dear, I even know what brush her headmaster uses to comb his beard.) Sometimes, she has many secrets, important mysteries."

"I rather doubt there's anything special about me..." Sharp shrugged. "Except that I'm one of the less liked teachers at the school."

"Hmm, yet I haven't seen those more liked here... Except for that boorish professor... what was his name... ah, Fig! He had quite the audacity." She smiled very mysteriously and beckoned him to come closer. "Can I see you?" she asked, raising her hands slightly. Aesop agreed to the request and crawled out of his seat, sitting on the edge of the sofa and allowing the old woman to touch his face. It was nothing new for him; Mr. Gaunt had also recognized his face in this manner when he started at Hogwarts, and all the teachers were asked to do so. Mrs. Dimm's wrinkled hands' touch was very delicate, maternal. "It might sound strange, but after hearing your voice somewhere near the ceiling, I assume you're quite tall."

Aesop laughed. "Thanks to my mum. We both walk with our heads in the clouds."

Mrs. Dimm chuckled and asked about the color of his hair, beard, eyes, to which he replied in detail, not hiding the fact that most of his beard was gray.

"I've never seen colors in my life, but I like their sound, like brown or blue. I don't like the word yellow or blonde..." She stopped when her fingers found his scar. She became serious, and her hands left his face. "Oh yes... True kindred spirit... I think I understand everything now..." she whispered very mysteriously.

What's on her mind? Her eyes covered with a veil seemed to see much more than others, observing. Suddenly, Aesop felt a bit like when he was with Morana, like a Muggle wanting to shout "WITCH!", feeling that she had abilities beyond his understanding...

"I think I've confused you a bit, I apologize; I can be very blunt..."

"You're definitely very mysterious." he admitted, suppressing laughter, and returned to his seat. Now he was not at all surprised that Fig had trouble gaining their trust, assuming that simple people, Muggles, would be less cunning than him.

Morana from the upper floor could barely catch snippets of their conversation, occasionally interrupted by the louder whistling of the wind dancing around the chimney. Every now and then, she tenderly handed Mr. Dimm a spoonful of carrot soup as he finished the previous one.

He looked much better. Seated in bed, propped up by several pillows, covered with a blanket, he could endure this position a bit longer than yesterday. He was still pale, but his skin was regaining color. Today, he even read for a while, which Morana considered a significant success. And he ate with appetite. When the bowl was empty, and Morana placed it on the bedside table, Mr. Dimm adjusted his cap, which he wore even indoors, fearing drafts, and took a deep breath, as if contemplating what he was about to say.

"I think it's a good time to discuss something with you, Mora," he confessed quietly. "In some time, the brewery and the farm will be yours, so I thought it would be best if you take over some of my responsibilities during the summer holidays this year... Of course, you can do whatever you want with the brewery, but even if you decide to sell everything, the merchants won't appear immediately; it might take a year or two, and it's better if everything works to generate as much income as possible... Don't look at me like that; I don't plan to die soon, but I want you to be able to handle everything in case I'm gone and not drown in debts." He grumbled in a stern tone, seeing her frightened expression, and continued, "Lyra and I decided that this year you will go abroad on your own... You can take someone trustworthy with you because we don't want you to be completely alone. Not because we doubt your abilities, but because loneliness can be quite overwhelming. We have much to catch up due to my illness, and I was planning to cancel the trip entirely, but I think it's a good time for you to explore the market on your own. You know how to haggle, and you know which hops are the best; I wouldn't trust anyone else with this task... Well... What's that sad little expression of yours, Mo?" he asked gently, seeing the corners of her mouth turned down, and lightly touched her cheek. "Next year, when I feel better, I'll go with you, but I'll be more of a companion, and you'll already be the boss. I'll be able to enjoy Czech beer without worrying that I'm at work." He joked, lifting Morana's spirits a bit. She smiled and placed her hand on his.

The silence was interrupted by a timid knock on the door, and with Mr. Dimm's permission, Aesop entered the room.

"Oh, Mr. Sharp, nice to meet you!" the old man exclaimed. "Please, come in. I secretly hoped I'd manage to come downstairs, but I'm not strong enough yet."

Aesop entered the room cautiously to shake Mr. Dimm's hand and began to scrutinize all the details, hoping to find some typically "Muggle" extraordinary objects, which immediately brought disappointment. Fireplace, bed, armchair, rug... Meh... He thought.

"How are you feeling?" he asked Marcus shyly.

"Well, thank you; my two angels take care of me." He glanced proudly at Morana. "And sometimes they are overly protective because I can eat on my own; I don't need to be fed." He smiled at Aesop and, after a moment, asked with a serious tone, concern in his voice, "How is Mora doing at school? Has she skipped any classes?"

Sharp immediatelly thought about killed trolles and poachers turned to smithereens, oh and a dragon, but shook his head, and Mr. Dimm's eyes lit up with pride.

"She passed her exams very well, although her po..." He bit his tongue before saying "potions" and quickly sought a substitute word. "Potential in chemistry is significant; she just lacks patience."

"That's interesting! Lately, Morana has been weighing the beer, and Mrs. Sirona, our best customer, hasn't complained about a change in its taste... You see, the process is quite complicated, and one errant sneeze cuould be disastrous."

"I see that you're a man of culture," Sharp said, shooing Morana out of the armchair and sitting down, listening with interest to Mr. Dimm.

"Well at least when it comes to bear! I know everything about it. My family owned a network of breweries for years, but after the crisis, we had to sell everything and focus on this small one to stay on the market without going bankrupt due to excessive expenses. We chose quality over quantity, and it paid off. I've been working in it for as long as I can remember. Lyra, on the other hand, studied at home when she was little. She has aristocratic roots, but her father quickly brought the family business to ruin. I often saw him drunk when I was a delivery boy visiting their house with orders, and Lyra would throw frogs into my bottle crates... None of us could afford a proper school, so we're determined to give Mo a better start. I won't allow her to be at the mercy and whim of a husband, like the daughters of my industry colleagues! Hell, with her knowledge already, she's becoming quite the competition! Maybe you'll show Mr. Sharp around the brewery, huh? And I'll take a nap." He suggested, subtly indicating that he needed rest. Morana nodded. "Please, come by again someday, Mr. Sharp; we'll have a chat and enjoy some fresh beer." He winked at him, and Aesop gladly accepted the invitation.

Morana didn't say much as they said their goodbyes and headed to the brewery. She felt like she was hearing Aesop's voice from under the water surface; he summarized the visit, pleased with the meeting. She was absent, contemplating Mr. Dimm's words, worrying about his health.

Aesop caught snippets of their conversation as he cautiously climbed the narrow stone stairs, so now, seeing concern on Morana's face, he completely understood her and fell silent, allowing her thoughts to drift in silence. She needed a moment of calm to sort everything in her mind, and deep down, he regretted leading her to the brewery, to show him how it worked, which didn't matter much to him now...

They walked slowly, him leaning on his cane, admiring the extraordinary machinery, the vats of malt, the pleasant aroma, and the ease with which Morana operated the complex apparatus. All of this wasn't important to him at the moment. He saw pain in her eyes, and he wanted to interrupt her, to talk somewhere private, in a quiet place, to let her calm down... On the other hand, he didn't have the heart to silence her story about the creamy beer, which she spun with such passion, answering each of his questions meticulously. Torn, he waited, enjoying her words.

"Aesop..." she said softly, unexpectedly, when they stepped outside. He supported himself with a cane, leaning slightly, listenning her. "I need to talk to you."

"Hm?" he asked, looking deep into her sad eyes, seeing through them the words that tangled in her mind. She lowered her gaze, glancing at servants.

"Not here, I'll escort you to the Castle; I haven't been there in ages." Aesop nodded, and with a discreet wave of his wand, he toppled a few barrels deep into the brewery, immediately alerting the workers. When they disappeared from Sharp's view, he extended his arm towards Morana; she took it, and they disapparated with a loud snap.

They walked arm in arm on the muddy path leading towards the Castle. Morana breathed deeply, seeing the familiar sight she had missed from the abundance of responsibilities.

"I had such a nice day that I forgot why I came here at all." Aesop chuckled. Yes, His deep chuckle was also something she missed, and before she could turn her head towards him, he slipped a small book, about the size of a prayer book, into her tiny hand. The cover was enigmatic, adorned with black, rough leather. Morana turned it a few times in her hands, but she found no title on the covers or the spine. In the yellowed pages, someone, probably Aesop, inserted small bookmarks. The first page was titled "Faces of Curses," and the foreword explained that the book dealt with a scientific analysis of scars and wounds that curses, dark magic spells, potions, and dark artifacts could leave.

"It's not the most pleasant read... Wizards use it for investigating crime scenes... My friend wrote it some time ago, you could say I also contributed to its creation... I marked a few cases that might interest you..."

Morana followed the first bookmark and encountered a rather drastic photograph of someone's arm marked with a monstrous wound... curls resembling burns and a few longer lacerations that seemed familiar to her own scar after a few moments. The title read: "Case 156: Memory-altering spells, memory-erasing spells." Other cases, similarly marked by Sharp, were related to Obliviate-like spells. Others resembled scars that a young Thestral had; they were only labeled as "dark magic."

Morana took a deep breath wanting to share her plans, the thoughts that had been swirling in her head for a long time... And now, when the opportunity presented itself... She didn't have the courage to confess them to anyone, as she knew she couldn't solve many issues with those she knew. Except for a certain former Auror, a detective.

"In a week, I'm going to Nitra. I want to know what happened that day to me, but... I need help," she wrinkled her brows, angry at herself for imposing on Aesop, afraid he might think she was using him for her purposes, and he might not be up for it. She was a young student; he had his own life and was her teacher, not a friend... She shouldn't... "Of course, I'll understand if the answer is 'no'..."

Aesop fell into thought, somewhat surprised by the proposition of a joint journey. He felt as if an angel was sitting on one of his shoulders, explaining to him that "traveling with a young, unmarried woman almost begged for scandal"; on the other shoulder, the devil chanted, "Adventure, ADVENTURE, puzzles, investigation, AESOP, I know you love investigations." He swallowed hard. The angel continued about conventions, while the devil raised the strongest argument: "You know... It's uncertain what awaits her there... To what or WHO clues might lead her to... Are you sure the emotions accompanying her search for her mother and father won't drown her vigilance? If she fell into an ambush, who knows, maybe she could even... die."

"Well... In a week, we have a meeting at school, but... But maybe a day later, I could reach the Floo flame in Vienna; from there, it's not so far to Nitra, I suppose..." he spoke with a trembling voice, nervously rubbing his hands together when he hid his cane and umbrella in case of meeting with any student. "If you wait for me one day, I'd be happy to help you... if you want help, because, in the end, I don't know what kind of help you're expecting from me, but I guess I'd be more useful on the spot than sending owls..." he babbled, not entirely sure what he was saying. Suddenly, a small hand grasped his arm, and a pair of two shiny eyes reflecting the cloudy sky gazed at him.

"Thank you," she whispered, taking him under her arm. Her hand rested on his forearm, subconsciously squeezing her fingers on a pretty hard muscle she could sense from undeerneeth his cloak, as if seeking Aesop's support. She felt more confident walking beside him in this way, as if he represented solid ground in the ocean that often flooded her mind with negative thoughts, especially when she had no contact with him. Aesop initially stiffened, wanting to assure her that he could walk quite well on his own... but... Well, after a few steps, he felt warmth spreading around his heart, and a blissful smile spread across his lips.

The devil on his shoulder kept chanting: "ADVENTURE, ADVENTURE! "

End of part 9, thanks for reading!

[themultifandomgal]

Matt Casey x reader

What if Casey is dating Andy Dardens little sister who comes back to Chicago to replace gabby Dawson when she left Chicago.

Y/n had to leave Chicago to take care of her two nephews Griffin and Ben. She and Casey decided to have a long distance relationship but he visit his girlfriend as much as he can do.

It is the Stellaride wedding and y/n are coming back to Chicago to be there for her best friend and for Severide who is like a brother to her. Y/n has some news for everyone that she tells them about before the wedding.

Y/n is moving back to Chicago with her two nephews and she can finally take care of them in there home city.

Casey is gonna propose to his girlfriend in the evening of the wedding when they are alone. But there is one problem.

Gabby shows up at the firehouse the day before the wedding. Casey doesn’t care that his ex wife is in town and that she will be at the wedding.

But y/n feels uncomfortable when gabby is in Chicago seven if they used to be best friends and partners on Ambo 61 before Leslie Shay started at firehouse 51.

Y/n are best friend with Sylvie Brett and they where partners on Ambo 61 before she moved to Portland.

Based on last episode of season 10 and the first episode of season 11

Matt Casey- Home Pt1

Things were obviously tuff after my brother Andy's death. Heather my sister in law got a DUI and ended up in prison for 15 months. During that time I looked after hers and my brothers kids, when she was released Heather took Griffin and Ben to live away in Florida. She suddenly stoped phoning me and anytime I would phone her I was cut off. Eventually I was blocked. This was heard on me because all I wanted was to speak to my nephews. Matt and Gabby got divorced then I started dating Matt.

Then one day Griffin appeared on mine and Matts doorstep telling us how his mom keeps moving him around and now is in prison again. Of course after a lengthy conversation Matt and I made the decision that I'd moved in with Griffin, Ben and Heather until I know that she can cope again.

I was gone for a long time, but Matt and I made it work doing long distance. He would also come and visit me any time he could, but it's tough. And unfortunately Heather kept getting into trouble, so Matt suggests that the kids just move in with him and I, that way Heather can sort herself out and the kids would have a stable environment. Plus with Gabby leaving I was offered to become PIC of ambo 61. I'm not just coming home because of that, it's also my best friend Kelly's wedding.

I walk into the fire house holding on to my nephews hands hoping to surprise everyone. Of course Matt and Kelly know I'm coming home, but they think my flight gets in later

"Geeze, thought I'd at least get some banners for my return"

"Babe?" Matt looks over a little shocked "thought I was picking you and the kids up later"

"Eh flight changed"

"No it didn't you said you wanted to surprise everyone"

"Thanks Ben"

"YN. It's good to have you back" Herrmann pulls me into a hug which is followed by everyone else

"YN thank you for coming back for the wedding"

"Well that's not the only reason I'm back" I say replying to Kelly

"Well don't leave us all waiting" Brett encourages

"Well I'm coming back permanently, Ben, Griffin and I. I'm gonna be the PIC of ambo 61 again"

"Yes!" Gallo fist bumps the air

"Bless our saviour"

"Oh thank god" Brett hugs me again

"What did I miss?" I chuckle

"The person who replaced you temporarily, well she's not the nicest"

"Emma just creates a lot of drama" Gallo replies for Capp

"She's been after the PIC job since you left"

"Oh well don't worry about her anymore. I'm back next shift"

"Perfect" Brett once again hugs me tight

"Right we best get you guys fed. You hungry?" Kelly asks me and the kids

"I'm starving" I reply chuckling. The kids follow Kelly to the kitchen while I get stopped by my very handsome boyfriend

"Hey"

"Hi" I smile up at him "don't be to mad at me for trying to surprise you"

"Just glad your here and staying" he places his hands on either side of my face and presses a kiss against my lips

"Oh Errm sorry to interrupt" we break apart and see Emma "was just coming to collect my things"

"No hard feelings right?"

"No course not" she smiles but I can see how fake it is

"Come on let's grab something to eat" Matt wraps his arm around my shoulders and we head to the kitchen

"If we had known you were coming back we would have made a nice spread"

"It's ok. Don't worry about it"

"Engine 51, Truck 81, Squad 3 , ambo 61. Structure fire 336 Arlington"

"I'll see you guys later. Matt I'll see you at home"

"Home. I like the sound of that" I give him a peck before he shoots off

"Ok let's get you guys home hey?"

On the way home the taxi driver starts to drive passed where the fire. I notice Emma outside getting shouted at, but no Matt, Stella or Sylvie

"Hey can you stop a minute?" I ask and get out

"Hey. Boden things ok? Where's Brett?"

"Inside. Woman's giving birth and Jacobs left her"

"Chief send me in?"

"What. You don't start till...."

"I know but if someone's giving birth up there Brett's gonna need help, please?"

"Ok go"

"Ok boys I want you to stand over there with Chief Boden. Ok don't leave his side"

"Ok" the boys leave the car while I run into the burning building

"Brett? Kidd? Casey?" I shout running up some stairs

"YN?" I hear Brett yell and follow her voice

"Holy shit" I notice the room on fire

"She's crowning" Brett tells me "YN give me the bulb suction" I hand her what she needs while I tend to her wound on her shoulder "ok big push" Brett says. Thankfully we hear crying from the baby

"Ok Kidd Casey carry her out. Brett you got the baby?"

"Yeah"

"Ok when we have them in the ambo I want to put oxygen on the baby just in case as well as the mother. Let's go" I grab the bag and follow the others out. When we get outside to safety I hear Emma getting told to clean out her locker

"Welcome home YN" Brett smiles giving me a side hug once the baby was in the ambo having oxygen thanks to other paramedics that just arrived.

We arrive back at the firehouse, everyone excited for my return when I see Gabby. My old best friend

"Hey" she smiles and Matt and I

"Hi Gabby"

"Well this is awkward" Mouch mumbles earning a nudge from Gallo

"I'm not here to cause drama. Just here for the wedding"

"Errm it's good to see you Gabby. Matt I'm gonna take the kids home. I'll see you later" I give him a kiss and leave the firehouse feeling a little uncomfortable about Matts ex being here. Yes we were once friends and yes ok I'm the bitch that dated her best friends ex husband, but doesn't mean that I'm not a little worried.

[blackjackkent]

This Sharran gauntlet is definitely a bit of a maze. Doing my best to cover everything and not get lost but we'll see.

My immediate plan was to go deal with that displacer beast, since the knowledge that it was there was making me nervous. :P Jumping down to the level where it was standing, though, it seems to be abruptly gone, and Karlach picked up a perception check.

Cool. Probably the one Raphael told us to look for.

Aggressive quicksave per @zenjestrr's suggestion, and down we go, fully expecting something to jump out of a wall.

Actually, before even starting down the corridor, I'm able to move the camera along, and hey, look.

There he is.

This big boy and his numerous friends are a level above us (just take my word for it; the messed up, shattered architecture around here is very confusing) and looking the other direction. I'm guessing our current path will take us underneath him and then he will drop down on us? The displacer beast appears to have moved to the far side of the room past him.

My ideal strategy here would be to jump up behind him and get the drop on him instead, but only Karlach has the jump distance necessary to make that work. So we'll see if we can get a shot on him from underneath before he notices us, I guess.

A very unscientific diagram of the situation:

After some experimenting, I was able to get the group (in a rare moment of the hide action actually working successfully in this game) to sneak to the far right side of the room without alerting anybody. This allows us to get a bit of a look around at this area, which is AWFUL.

Hector points out that there is tons of blood and gore everywhere, and this is hanging out at the far end near where the displacer beast is pacing back and forth.

Yechh.

I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt, Shadowheart, that this isn't what normally goes on in Sharran temples.

We do seem to kind of have the option of just...scurrying past the whole situation and not engaging. But I'm not overly interested in doing that, and I don't think Hector is either. He doesn't like Raphael much but the depiction of the Orthon as a crazed brute seems like it might not be off the mark and needs to be dealt with.

But if there's a way to handle this situation stealthily I don't think I know what it is. And ultimately I think Hector would like to get Orthon's side of the story before killing him outright. So I think the correct answer here might just be to step into view and see what happens.

[QUICKSAVE]

The displacer beast spots them immediately, followed at once by the orthon on the upper level, who has sighted down on them with a crossbow.

"What's this?" the devil growls in a rumbling, resonant baritone. "Fresh entertainment...but you're too fresh for this place, aren't you? There's a whiff of the surface to you..."

His eyes move from Hector to Karlach, and he smirks. "You. Tiefling. You've got the stench of the Hells about you - the stench of home. And a whiff of the surface besides. A servant of Zariel, if I'm not mistaken." His fingers flex on the handle of his crossbow. "I'd know the stench of her infernal machinery anywhere."

Karlach shifts uncomfortably at Hector's side. "What do you know of infernal machinery?" she asks.

The devil shrugs casually, the tip of the crossbow remaining perfectly steady with the movement. "Only what I can smell. And whatever engine burns within you is grinding to an inevitable explosion. Burning and fear - you reek with it."

Hector sets his jaw. How dare this creature taunt them with that terrible encroaching deadline? He has tried, so hard, not to think about it, to focus on what he and Karlach have together, now, but that mocking voice draws it back into immediate focus and the pain stabs back into him again, and with it, fury.

And yet...

Is it possible the orthon knows something that could help to save her? Hector would betray Raphael in a heartbeat if it meant keeping Karlach safe...

As if following his thoughts, the devil twitches, looks back towards Hector and wrinkles his nose up. "There's something else...almost hidden by your fear-stink. Cherries...musk...and sulphur. Raphael! I can smell him all over you. WHERE IS HE?"

"I...don't know what you mean..." Hector tries evasion, but it's useless.

"LIES," the devil bellows at once, as Hector on some level knew he would. "My nose would recognize him anywhere. That perfumed trickster swindled me - trapped me!"

There's clearly no point in being coy about this. Hector sighs. "He wants you dead," he says matter-of-factly.

"Where is he?" growls the orthon. "Spit it out. NOW!"

"Careful," Shadowheart mutters. "I'm not sure we want Raphael as an enemy."

Hector isn't either, but he also believes Raphael fully capable of lying about what is actually going on here. What he wants, more than anything, is information before making a decision, and this orthon seems like it might be marginally more likely to tell him things directly than Raphael is.

"Let's...share our experiences about Raphael," he says carefully. "Perhaps we can help each other."

The devil laughs. "Bargaining, are you? A Kara-Tur warlord once tried the same - I made him watch as I ate his concubines and young, then fashioned a codpiece from his skull." He snarls, a noise of muted frustration and rage. "You can't help. It's not just walls that keep me here. Not the traps, the dark, or the creatures it hides. Something stronger holds me. A contract. Either I fulfil the contract, die trying, or forfeit my freedom. If I leave this place now, I'll become Raphael's slave."

Hector's eyebrows lift in surprise. This...is interesting news - and not simply for reasons of the issue at hand. Astarion has said on more than one occasion in camp that he would like to work with Raphael, to make a deal that would see him freed of Cazador's ability to control him. Hector thinks it's a terrible idea, but knows arguing with Astarion is pointless - but he wonders how Astarion would feel to know that Raphael is ready to enslave and control as well, perhaps just as much as Cazador was.

But...that is an issue to consider later. For now he must decide what to do regarding that crossbow still pointing down at him.

"Show me this contract," he says, still speaking very slowly, carefully, ready to dodge aside if the devil shows signs of attacking. "Perhaps there's something you missed." That would be the ideal scenario, wouldn't it? Get the creature out of its contract, send it back to the hells, and upset Raphael's plans at the same time but without giving him room to object.

The orthon blinks, then straightens and, completely unexpectedly, begins to sing - terribly.

"Spill all the blood sworn to the night. Silence all prayers, smother each rite. Wander Shar's halls, hungry to slay. Leave no Justiciar alive to obey. Leave none to hear it; then be set free. This song is your oath. Swear, swear it to me."

Hector resists the urge to wince at the discordant notes, focusing instead on the message of the strange, winding verse.

Narrator: Well, that explains where all the Dark Justiciars went. [INSIGHT] The final lyrics linger in your mind. There is a trick buried within them - a clause that cannot be easily fulfilled.

"That's it," the demon rumbles, bringing his crossbow up again and re-aiming it at Hector's face.

"So he's responsible for all the carnage down here," Shadowheart whispers, appalled. "All those Dark Justiciars...slaughtered..."

Hector looks up at the orthon, his mind churning rapidly, trying to parse the situation and the best way out of it. "Raphael wanted you to kill Dark Justiciars?" he asks. "Why?"

"Asking why doesn't get me paid," the orthon snarls. "Hunting and killing does. Raphael mentioned something about an aasimar. Meant nothing to me. I did my part - I filled these halls with ghosts. But Raphael's playing some other game, one that involves stiffing me."

He pauses, seems to consider for a moment, then shrugs. "Anyway, enough prattle. The lyrics are clear - all who hear the song must die. He spits on the ground, cocks the crossbow back. "Time to die."

Hector backpedals at once, a hand going to his crossbow, but as he does, he babbles out desperately, [PERSUASION] "The lyrics are a trick! You've always had an audience - your followers! Get rid of them!"

Years of reading back in the monastery libraries on all manner of subjects coalesces here; he has read of devil contracts and of the legal ones of the material plane. If he can convince the devil to believe him...this has to be correct, it has to be the way out...it solves everything at once...

But that's a very big "if."

A long, strained pause. For a moment he's quite sure he's going to get a crossbow bolt in the head no matter what...and then the orthon's weapon drops and he looks perplexed. "The merregons?" He glances at the masked, imp-like creatures flanking him. "They barely have a thought to share among themselves..." Another pause. "But they do have ears." He turns towards them, snaps out an order. "Kill yourselves! Back to the hells with you!"

It's a rather extraordinary show; without hesitation, all the small creatures turn and slam their axes into each others heads, then collapse in a bloody heap. One of their axes clatters down next to Hector's feet.

The orthon roars with frustration. "Arrrghhh - I still hear it! Seems your theory is wrong!"

Hector's whole body is jittery with adrenaline, both from fear and from a sort of hysterical thrill that he spoke and the creature listened to such a bloody degree. He can feel the situation on the verge of slipping out of control...but he's almost certain his interpretation of the situation is correct, and at least there are fewer enemies on the field now. [PERSUASION] "You're not finished yet!" he points out desperately. "The displacer can hear you, can't she? Kill her!"

A very unexpected burst of grief flashes onto the orthon's face. "Kill..Nessa?" He looks towards the displacer beast at the far end of the room with deep regret.

"Stay very still, my beauty..." he whispers, and pulls the trigger on the crossbow. The shot flies true and the displacer falls without a sound.

The regret morphs into rage at once. "I STILL HEAR IT!" the demon bellows.

Hector swallows. This is it - the final point. If he's right...the orthon will no longer stalk these halls, Raphael's request will also have been fulfilled, and all of it completely in line with the contract.

[PERSUASION] "Exactly," he says. It takes every ounce of nerve in his body not to flinch away from the pure fury in the demon's face. "Kill yourself, complete the contract, and you'll be reborn in Avernus. Free!"

Surely this is right. It fits with everything he's read before about such things. Listen to me, he thinks desperately, watching the crossbow's tip waver in midair.

And then the crossbow drops. The devil stares at him, reaches to his back and pulls out a heavy steel sword from its sheathe.

"If you're wrong about this," he growls, "I'll claw my way out of Avernus and eat you alive - contract be damned."

He lifts the blade, puts it to his own heart, and thrusts it home. A spatter of bright red blood sprays across the stone floor. "Nicely played, Raphael... Bastard..." he groans out and collapses heavily off the platform into a heap on the ground.

For a long moment, Hector and his companions simply stare at the unmoving body, unable to believe that worked.

"That silver tongue of yours is dangerous," Shadowheart murmurs after a while, looking rather impressed. "Bravo. I can't believe you actually pulled that off."

----

"Me either," Hector whispers. His heart is pounding as if he's just run a marathon, and he finds that his hands are trembling as he goes to try and loot the devil's body.

He didn't really think that would work, right up until the moment that it did. All this time out in the 'real world,' he's struggled with the nuances of conversation, of handling tense situations smoothly. Here, of all places, he was utterly terrified that he would say the wrong thing, would fail, would get them all killed...

But that devil...listened to him.

He believed what he was saying, that these actions would free the orthon from its contract; it wasn't a lie, he wasn't trying to trick the creature. But nevertheless, it was a desperate attempt at best. And the fact that it worked...

He sits down heavily on the floor, puts his head in his hands, and just breathes until the shakiness starts to bleed out of him. It worked, and it's over. It worked, and it's over. One less thing to face in this darkness. All things with her strength.

All things with *my* strength.

For the first time, he realizes he truly believes it. He can do this. He can face these things and handle them, at least sometimes, even the ones that seem insurmountable. For the first time since the crash, a tiny bit of the everpresent fear ebbs away.

"You all right, Hec?" Karlach sits down next to him, leans her head gently against his. Feeling him shaking, she shifts to wrap her arm around him and, unresisting, he slumps into her side.

"I hate this place," he mutters with a hoarse, rueful laugh.

Shadowheart stands nearby, watching him thoughtfully. "You have no love for my Lady, or the others who worship her," she says quietly. "I know that. But you drove out that evil, so it will not kill any more of us."

He nods slightly, not looking up. "They don't deserve a massacre," he says hollowly. "Any more than the Selunites on the surface did."

She has no answer for that, and turns away with a troubled expression.

"Loathe as I am to interrupt our self-congratulatory snuggle session," Gale says mildly, "I think we might do well to be moving on. We've no shortage of other dangers to face before our tents show us their welcoming faces once again."

He leans over and offers a hand to Hector, helping him lever away from Karlach and back onto his feet. "But well done, my friend. Any standoff with a devil that ends with everyone still un-immolated is fine by me."

[niuniente]

Wanted to ask you something related to NDE's: I've seen waaaay too many scientific skeptics attempting to write them off as caused by a gland in the brain, or a result of the drug DMT, or a mix of drugs in the brain trying to calm you before death... But. there is not only not ACTUALLY substantial evidence that ALL of the NDE is caused by so (specially in patients who's brain already is basically dead) but I've seen waay to many people shrug off the specific VERIDICAL cases where people learn of either things that will happen or are happening around them that they should have NO WAY OF KNOWING. They just /casually/ shrug it off. Cast it aside. Ignore it.

Why do you think they do so? Because they know that veridical NDEs break their hypotheses? Because they cannot reasonably explain HOW people can do this and it makes them uncomfortable?

Science is, at its worst, just another religion. If the study methods, the subject or people's experiences don't match the current scientific dogmas of the said field, then it must be a hoax. I mean, even with evidence, we have so many old cases where some scientist says "Hey there's this new evidence, I think this is valid" and others are "No, that's bullshit, just a delusion".

I personally try to think that we're scientifically always living some "dark ages", and while we have information and understanding, we should remember that we don't know it all yet. Technology evolves and gives us more and more access to something which was inaccessible before. Scientific hard facts in the past were that the Earth is the central of the universe, asbestos is fine, arsenic is not dangerous, women have hysteria, being a gay is a mental disease, and uterus is an organ which travels all around the body. Heck, even such a new thing than black holes were just a theory when I was young and now they're been proven to be real! What are such "dark age" scientific facts of our own time which will be proven wrong, or even harmful, in the past decades or centuries?

Scientists (and doctors) want to keep their jobs. Get labelled as one of these "nut cases" and you lose your job. Behind the hidden doors, doctors, nurses and surgeons admit to their patients that many have had an NDE. There's a good case about that with Anita Moorjani, who had an NDE and she recovered miraculously from a cancer. Her doctor agreed with everything which she said but when media interviewed her doctor, he brushed it all off as nonsense to keep his job and credibility. Who wants to be the first to be taken on a stake and burned as a modern witch for their scientific heresies?

Quantum biology is something which is being studied and one of its topics is consciousness. What is it, where is it, what happens to it? I think many quantum level studies have lots of similarities to spiritual topics, like quantum particles being connected and "aware" of each other, no matter what the distance.

Eben Alexander's case is scientifically one of the best NDEs, simply because his brain was in such condition that no activity was supposed to occur, not even on a subconscious level. I think Anita Moorjani is scientifically one of the best cases, too, and widely medically documented.

And yet, if you have made your mind that this is not science but some nonsense, no evidence will not change your mind.

And it's OK, in this case.

[theluxuriansecret]

Diary Entry 04012024

Dear Diary,

I'm starting to feel like I'm abandoning myself, but I promise that is going to change. I think I said in my last post that I would write once a week because clearly writing once a day is genuinely too much of an obligation, but I still want to find a way to express my feelings. SO here I go:

To begin, I have completed my first week of work at my first big girl, corporate job. It is starting to pick up and I am really excited about it. Honestly, it sucks that there are a lot of exterior things to my work that are kind of numbing or getting in the way of my excitement, but I can acknowledge the positive feeling nonetheless. I only commute three days a week, and it going to take some time to get used to. It's exhausting as of right now, but am proud of myself for making the effort, getting up everyday, figuring my route out and getting on with it and I'm excited to see what this week will challenge me with. (Which I feel like one will be the weather because it's supposed to rain all three of my commute days RIP)

I have been having some incredibly tough to face feelings about the people around me, my family, my friends, my relationship. It honestly has felt very isolating, but it is something I will start trying to work through this week but I want to dive into some of those things.

The first, my friend. To be honest, I feel like distancing myself from her. I do not like how she speaks to me, and sometimes I feel like I try to ignore my feelings for the sake of keeping the peace, but what happens when I know longer feel the peace I keep trying to uphold? I feel like, our friendship truly only continues to perceiver is because I am the friend that wants to do the things she wants to do, but I truly do not think I am the one she really wants there. Could I be reaching? Maybe? Is it a possibility? I still think so. I have had these feelings harboring inside me for quite sometime, and I feel the need to really make sure my feelings are what they are before I try to talk to her about.

Next up we have my family. Fuck. I once said something about like "why is family so complicated?" and now I almost understand. I have a small family, and I have been around people who have these huge families, and stay connected with them. And then I think about my family dynamic. It's just my mom + dad, brother + grandma and I. And it's really hard to fucking deal with? Because on one end, I feel like they are all difficult to deal with in their own way. But then I just figured out they're all i fucking have. They are all I have. And I need to give my relationships with them a real try. [TRIGGER WARNING: SEXUAL CONTENT] I don't know if I ever journaled about one of my family members m*lesting me and my parents basically blaming me for it. I don't know if I ever truly forgave them or if I just let it go because I live under their roof. I don't know what that kind of forgiveness looks like, and I don't even know where it begins. [Triggering Content Ends] Which also brings up my weird feelings for my dad. I feel like ever since I've joined the "real world" he sees me. He wants to talk to me more, he is more invested in "what I am up to" its weird. It makes me feel uncomfortable. Did you not see me before? Did anything I did prior to having a job matter? Is me having a job the only way you feel like you can relate to me? I have questions, many, but I don't know if I can really stomach the answers. And my mother, I feel myself losing respect for her everyday, which is so weird because I have worked so hard to be able to call her my best friend and bestow that title onto her. But.. he continuing her affair even though my father is aware of it makes me sick. It makes me wonder how he feels, but who am I to go up to my dad and say "How does mom's affair make you feel?" I think ultimately it's none of my business, but also she involves me and I know way more than I should so...

Lastly, my relationship. *sigh* I do not know where to begin. I have also been harboring emotions about this too, which sucks because on paper its going really well. To begin, we hit the two month mark tomorrow, which he has acknowledged. But also, I think he has too much on his plate, and I'm really the last thing that should be on it. Maybe that sound crazy, but also.. I think he jumped into things with me too quickly. He got out of his last relationship in July and we made things official in February, I don't know how much growth a person needs outside of a relationship to really start working on themselves, but I do know that I feel neglected in our relationship. One of the things we used to talk about as friends was healing and growing closer to ourselves, which I truly spent all of last year doing. Did I mess with a boy here and there, yes, but I also didn't let it completely consumer me (well...) and I knew that I was ready to be un anything serious. Now almost two years of being single, I told myself I would not deny myself the opportunity to be truly and genuinely loved. I wanted to be heard, I wanted to be seen, I wanted to be respected, and he does all of those things. BUT, I feel as though I have truly been put on the back burner. I think that I definitely was someone he wanted to build with and grow with, but I think he got to me so that no one else got to me. And now that he has me, he is doing everything he can do now NOW to better himself, and I hate that for me. I try to be patient and understand. I try to be helpful and compassionate, but I have needs too and they're not being met. I want to spend physical time with my person, but all my person keeps thinking about is getting money (typical Capricorn). I want to find a good way to bring this up without attacking him, because he is already going through so much emotionally already. But I want a relationship, a partner, I do not want a pen pal. I did not sign up for that.

So we will see where we go from there. I think this week is going to be really emotional. Mercury in retrograde, we're in Aries which is the astrological new beginning. A lot of things are shifting all at one and everyone is really feeling it. I am deeply feeling it, and my period is coming. So.. good luck to me this mercury retrograde and eclipse season. It's about to get real intense.

No SOTD, sorry :(

[introjis]

Is there anyway to commission emojis? /genq

I saw that you had the Palestine donation but it is put on hiatus I saw and the wording was very confusing?

I really love your emojis and have requested the linked universe sky emoji and loved them but I do not wish to request more without commission as I do not wish to annoy you with my requests (lol)!

-Anon again (I’m so sorry for spamming your inbox)

actually the main reason we don't have commissions as of right now is because we (as of this moment) genuinely just want to provide free emojis of whoever's introjects(yes!! including ocs!! and your favorite characters!!)! the Palestine donations are limited to customizing a (handful) of emojis that we're keeping free to use otherwise, we're very happy to get requests! (and you have NOT spammed our inbox- trust me, it wouldn't have flies flying out of it the second we opened it if you had/lh)

if you annoyed us we would say something- but genuinely no one has- besides the one guy who avoided looking through our rules and whatnot and ended up being Unsafe For The Safe For Work and Regression/Little Safe-ness Of The Blog,

we do have paypal partially set up for "commissions" but that is mostly so you get the 5+ changes to a pre-existing character emoji right away instead of a ask per every one of the 5+ changes (which though time consuming- is mostly so everyone can start where their introjects might be the most accurate!!) which we would prefer avoiding until everything is done at least with Palestine

also sorry for the wording being confusing- everyone there mostly wants to distance the project from being themed/branded as dream team twitter fans -> New Thing!!! we're doing our best to help push forwards after multiple allegations and general... Upset? Distrust? with those from Dream smp Mcyts, resulting in multiple leaving the project as they felt uncomfortable/horrified with the allegations and that the content creator could have done such things(at the time he was silent though his recent videos/streams about it seem to point at them being false we're however saying "allegations" as we have not gained all the information/finished watching the videos/vods to fully form our own opinions let alone know which is "right") so we are helping take the old theme, discard it, and fix up the SAME project with a new name and @ and such(with the help of those still in the project!) so we can keep helping palestine with our work! (hopefully this isn't as confusing as previous wordings of it,)

[jacensolodjo]

First gen Russian American here….. would you have any advice on how I can help?? I know it’s useless to sit around and feel guilty. I hate the war and Putin, but I don’t want to feel like the sin-eater for all this. It feels stupid to say stuff like “I’m one of the good ones, though!”

Slava Ukraini <3

The only advice I can offer is what I offer everyone because it really is within most peoples' ability. Even if I do agonize about not being able to do more due to distance/physical ability/budgeting. It has been an almost sacred duty of the diaspora to record and redistribute information. No matter which side of the border one's family is from.

As I've said, one of the huge problems with people (read: Russians) I come into contact with (second hand or otherwise) regardless of where they live or how far removed from the Motherland they are tends to be they keep quiet. No one is going around demanding Russians give their opinion on the war at first blush, but it can be telling if we've seen people talk about everything else politics but are suspiciously silent about this. As the saying goes, remaining silent is support for the oppressor and has never once helped the oppressed.

People too often underestimate what word of mouth can do. Ukrainian diaspora newspapers and rallies and fundraising brought attention to the Holodomor and helped big time ending it before it could happen for longer than a year. Every Holocaust museum in the world emphasizes that we must know what happened then so we can know the signs so we don't repeat it. Words can stop a war just as easily as a weapon.

I won't blow smoke up your ass about how thankful people will be. And yes, I will say as nicely as possible that guilt is not the best elevator pitch nor do you want to fall into the trap of trying to apologize for your group identity or separate yourself from it as all it then does is focus more on you and your feelings rather than bringing attention to the injustice itself. All you can do is be sincere, and know you're sincere and you should exercise your freedom to record and amplify our voices, not talk over. In this situation, we're the marginalized and you, regardless of your own opinions on things or where you actually live, are part of the oppressor group. This is not a slur, nor an insult. It is simply a fact same as it is a fact that I can't be anything BUT a Ukrainian-American as these are immutable properties.

But in some cases, non-Ukr voices especially Russian can have a stronger effect than when we try to speak about it. That is the power and the flaw, a la Captain Janeway's words, of oppressor vs oppressed. Which is thus how we get to history is written by the winners. I will say that you also need to be sure to read the room and people are well within their rights to prefer to have a space that is for Ukrainians only. If they know there’s a Russian there it can get uncomfortable if not borderline-triggering as they may end up waiting for some pro-war outburst or some such thing as some do pretend to be sympathetic but then later their true colors show, as it is what has happened to numerous families who have russian branches wherein that branch of the family suddenly starts flinging propaganda in their ukr family branch’s faces. 

But yeah. Essentially: do far more listening than talking. Redistribute/Reblog/Retweet what we say (after doing the proper fact checking of course as there are some folks who may say the right thing for like the first paragraph and then just go off the fucking rails counting on people to just not have the time to read thru carefully). Use your privilege for good rather than evil or apathy. And this all goes for everyone. But yes, if you're able you should donate or at least boost info on various charities such as the fundraiser for the Ukrainian Army as well as HIAS which helps predominantly Jewish refugees but extends to non-Jews as well.

[bouncehousedemons]

Comfort

My entry for day five of @vikingsevents Valentine's week prompts. Day five is best friend.

Pairing: Ubbe x OFC (slots between parts 2 and 4 of Salt of the Earth and Sea, but can be read as a standalone) Warnings: Angst, talk of pregnancy. Word count: ~800

Casja sits on the beach. The wind whips at her long, fiery curls and makes the sting of the tears in her eyes feel sharper as she angrily swipes them away.

Usually looking out to sea relaxes her, but today the movements of the babe in her belly are just as tempestuous as the weather that rages around her. Her body is uncomfortable and her mind will not settle.

She wonders when Ubbe started seeing her as merely the vessel for his child instead of who she really is. At least that's all it feels like she is to him anymore.

His constant insistence that she rest makes her feel helpless and without purpose. She used to sail one of the biggest ships on the ocean. She was fierce and independent. Now she is great with child and at the mercy of whatever fate the birth has in store for her.

Where Ubbe used to tangle his fingers into her hair and kiss her fiercely as a means of greeting, he now stoops to press his forehead to the swell of her stomach. She feels invisible to him.

He hasn't tried to be intimate with her since her pregnancy started to show. She misses him. With every day that passes her bump grows larger and so does the chasm between them.

So when he had returned home earlier that day and stooped to place his hands upon her stomach, Casja had angrily shoved him away and stormed down to the shoreline - a little more inelegantly than she'd have liked under the weight of her unborn baby. This is where she has has whiled away the last couple of hours, her anger slowly giving way to sadness.

She feels Ubbe's presence before she sees him. The crunch of his boots across the sand an instant give away, before he stops behind her, placing a fur around her shoulders.

"You look cold." He says simply, before moving to sit beside her.

"I am surprised you noticed." She responds flatly, not shifting her gaze from the roll of the ocean waves in the distance.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" He sighs, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"It doesn't matter." She rebuffs.

She is taken aback by the suddenness with which he grabs her hand. His blue eyes pierce into hers as she looks at him.

"Talk to me."

It is then that Casja's resolve crumbles and she hiccups a sob. "I have given up everything for you and you don't want me anymore!"

Ubbe's heart clenches painfully at the sight of her tears. His first instinct is to pull her close, but he knows in times of anguish that Casja prefers space. He settles for keeping a hold of her hand and rubbing soothing circles onto the back of it with his thumb.

"And what is it that makes you believe that?" He asks softly.

She sniffles. The urge to wrench her hand from his is strong, but she fights it, allowing herself to accept the small act of comfort.

"You don't see me for me anymore. I am just the mother of your child. I can't remember the last time you touched me."

Confusion and disbelief wash over Ubbe's features, his brow furrows as he narrows his eyes at her, shaking his head. "Casja...you are everything to me."

"Am I?!" She retorts. "Then why are we no longer intimate?"

Ubbe swallows thickly, his eyes are glossy with emotion as he speaks. "You are already putting your body through so much to bring our child into the world. I cannot ask more of you. Casja...I just want to make sure that you are safe and comfortable."

"I am not some fragile, breakable thing, Ubbe." She whispers bitterly.

He grabs both of her shoulders then, turning her body to face his, his expression is serious. Casja is sure she recognises slight fear in his face.

"Women die in childbirth. You are my best friend. I do not know what I would do should the Gods decide to take you from me."

Casja's expression softens, she reaches out a hand to stroke Ubbe's cheek and he leans into her touch.

"It will take more than childbirth to part me from you. I am not going anywhere."

Ubbe pulls Casja into a tight embrace and she allows him to. It is the first time he has held her like this in a long while and her body relishes the contact.

As his fingers wind themselves into the curls at the back of her head, her heart skips a beat at the familiarity of the gesture, before his lips descend upon hers. Ubbe and Casja have found their own sense of calm amidst the gale that blows around them.

[disaster-j]

Hi, J!

So, I'm fairly new to the BL fandom and consequently as you're navigating these spaces one tends to stumble upon fandom drama, present and past.

Now, as you're someone I respect and whose fics I enjoy, I'd like your opinion on Kr*st after reading this thread. I think you've shaded him before but I'm in a neutral space when it comes to him because the person making this thread is also a fic author I thoroughly enjoy as well for WinTeam/UWMA fics.

Forming an opinion on the subject matter when you're being pulled in two directions leaves me in a neutral space where I actively don't interact with Kr*st's stuff but I don't feel personally offended either considering it was long ago whilst I wasn't a part of BL fandom.

It's just so interesting to me that a bi/queer person is supportive of him whilst I also encounter other bi/queer people who can't even stand looking at him. It seems to be pretty divided when it comes to him from my standpoint.

If it isn't too much of a bother, and I apologize if its asking for too much, what's your opinion on the thread this person made?

Hi! It's not a bother at all! See the thing about Krist is that, at the end of the day, he's a celebrity with a PR team. He's got people coaching him on how to handle press and what to say or not say in interviews and such, so deciding what you believe is his sincerity and what's them just covering the right bases will be up to personal interpretation.

I'm not too surprised that there are still queer people who support him. They see him as someone who has made mistakes and said stuff he shouldn't have said and as someone who has since grown. That's their prerogative. Me, personally, I don't see him like that. When I came into the fandom in 2020 it was right around the time that Krist was truly falling from grace, at least on twitter, as such I saw a lot of often contradictory opinions on him. So I watched his clips, the homophobic stuff he said, his affinity to make rape jokes, casual queerphobic comments, the way he used to act around his fellow gmm stars, and came to the conclusion that i did not care for him at all.

If someone says or does something shitty and then takes responsibility for it and actively tries to do better then I will always acknowledge their efforts to be better. But for Krist who has a habit of saying homophobic things, saying sorry, saying the "right" supportive things when everyone else is and then going on to make some bitchass comment yet again, I can't take him seriously anymore. You can't be going "two men kissing is disgusting" then on official interviews talk about how we need to be respectful towards the lgbtq+ community only to then turn around yet again and say stuff like "oh this is an lgbt costume/our theme is lgbt" because someone put you in a purple shirt. The only thing that I've seen him do consistently is make comments that make people mad or uncomfortable. From homophobia to rape jokes to creepy comments towards costars, he's done it all and for that i cannot atand him.

Another thing that makes me feel wary of him is that, as the thread suggests, he was quite close to a lot of gmm people that I follow and adore. OffGun, Tay, Jennie, etc. But in recent years there's been a noticeable distance between him and people at gmm. People he used to hang out with outside of work all the time will barely be interacting with him during work events, if that's not suspicious idk what is.

And then on top of all that, he's just? Untalented??? Like his acting is subpar at best. He's not good at emotionally heavy or expressive scenes, he lacks the kind of charisma needed for all these main roles gmm keeps putting him in, he often can't keep up with his costars. Like! There's nothing there for me to like about him at all and so shading him for all the genuinely shady shit he constantly pulls and the favouritism he's unjustly receiving from gmm execs feels more than justified to me.

Of course this all my own opinion based on all that I've seen from him and I urge you to look at all possible angles on your own time before making your final judgement.

[layanasstories]

Oblivion

TWELVE

I was busy with my motorcycle, a bit of care on the engine, a bit of tinkering, cleaning, that sort of things, that's why I didn't hear her message comming in. Only after more than fifteen minutes did I see that she had sent me something. I quickly answered her when I saw it, only I didn't get any response back. I waited and waited, but after an hour of waiting I started to get a little worried. It wasn't like her to not respond back quickly. Especially now that she has her old phone back, she may have had a hard time with the memories that came back.

There are a lot of moments that I find it so tough, I want to hold her in my arms so desperately. I waited so long to have her back with me. And now that she's so close again, she seems even further away from me than ever. The distance I feel from her to me is even more crushing than when we only had contact through a screen. I get it, it's not her fault. She did not choose this. I only wish she could look at me and see me. See who I am, what I meant to her, what she means to me. That she feels the same nervousness in her stomach as I do when I look at her. That she would have the same desire as I have, to feel my lips on hers.

I don't want to make her feel uncomfortable. And no matter how hard I try to pretend that I don't know her and play along in getting to know each other, I don't always succeed. If it shines through too much I do know her, she gets irritated. And I get it, I get it all. It's just so unfair, for me but especially for her. Despite wanting more, much more, I will never ask her for it. If all that lies ahead of us is friendship, I'll take it with both hands. When I said I was at her mercy, I meant it with all I have. I'm hers, even if she doesn't see it.

When it came to almost an hour and a half, I started to get really worried. So I decided to go to her house to check if everything was going well. Maybe I should have just called, because the one time I do something impulsively, I'm standing at her door like a stupid idiot in love. The way she opened the door surprised me, it was quite unexpected. But on the inside it made me laugh, I saw the Layana as I know her from our conversations. Confident, ready to take the fight. One of those things I admire her for.

----

I could kick myself, he hadn't heard from me for two hours, normally I respond within a few minutes. Of course he was worried, especially knowing that I had been busy with my old messages and photos. I quickly invited him in and made my apology. Offered him a drink and we sat together on the couch and chatted. Casualy for a change, without difficult questions, without tension. It felt nice, however it also gave me the chance to watch him. The dimples in his cheeks when he smiles are cute. The twinkle in his bright blue eyes when he's excited about something, is adorable. When he runs his hand through his hair to keep the hair out of his eyes, evokes a feeling in me that not very moral. Because then I see a small piece of a tattoo appear under his short sleeve, and is tense muscular arm then stands out. "Goddamn this man is so attractive" I think to myself. I try to hide it as best I can, but startle at my own thought. Somehow I am completely convinced to ask him to go with me, to Duskwood. I don't understand myself, I'm scared that I find him attractive and then I'm convinced that I want to be with him more.

"Jake?" I interrupt him, without having the faintest idea what he was talking about. He looks at me with narrowed eyes and a grin "You have no idea what I just said huh". "I'm not going to admit or deny that" I say with a playful laugh. "Mhm, sure, sure. Where were your thoughts then?" he raises an eyebrow teasingly. I pretend to be shocked by his ambiguous remark "It's none of your business yet," I say with a wink. Inside, I'm yelling at myself what are you doing!! stop flirting so openly!! but my mouth happily continues. "Yet?" he looks at me with toying eyes. "Yes, yet. You never know what could happen in now and say and a while?" I keep looking at him with a seductive smirk. Layana stop this! Oh god what am I doing. Don't panic, don't panic. "We will see." he says most assured of himself, which makes him damn sexy, and I don't want that image in my head too, which is actually too late already. "But you wanted to ask something?" he continues in a most casual way. Bewildered by my own inner conflict, I stare at him. "Yes... there was indeed something I wanted to ask." I put my finger to my mouth to think, but my brain is blank. Now he laughs out loud and wide "Am I such a big distraction to you? Shall I go then?". "No! You stay, I need you." I look at him, and then I realize what I just admitted. My face couldn't get any redder and hide it behind my hands. Still hiding in my hands, I mumble "I can't ask that now, that's even more embarrassing.". "What can be so embarrassing that you cannot ask me?" I hear he's trying to hide his laugh. I sigh deeply, and don't look up from my hands as I quickly throw out the question "Will you come with me to Duskwood?".