#this is part of a larger story that i might never finish

[forestfiresandfics]

Tragedies

Is third life a tragedy? In literary terms, a tragedy is a specific plot line with its own requirements. It’s not what we think of as a tragedy in the common sense—that is a story with a sad ending. Not all stories with a sad ending are tragedies. 

What distinguishes a tragedy is the protagonists failure. The plot of a tragedy is one where the main character makes choices that will ultimately lead to their downfall. Macbeth pisses off the one person who can kill him, Frankenstein abandons his creation and it becomes resentful, Jason cheats on his sorceress wife and then surprise pikachu face when Medea gets her revenge. It’s the result of an imperfect protagonist, often villain protags, but also anti-heroes or byronic heroes. Really, anyone who has flaws, which is everyone except the paragon archetype. 3rd life is full of imperfect characters making mistakes constantly. But do those mistakes dead to the their own downfall? 

I’ve defined the protagonists before, but for the purpose of this discussion, I want to talk about Grian and Scar separately, since two characters cannot share the same tragedy (it’s their own mistake after all). There are a couple other characters I want to talk about as well, as you might imagine. So what are Grian and Scar’s downfalls? Everyone in 3rd life has one, so what is theirs? For Scar, the answer seems to follow a tragic trope quite solidly, his death is his downfall. But did his mistakes lead him there? Answer: not really! Scar’s greatest ‘mistake’ is his betrayal of his partner. But his death isn’t the result of that. In fact, when he offered his life in apology, Grian doesn’t take it. Scar’s death is actually the result of the two of them being back on better terms. Their relationship can never be what it once was, but they go out crying and laughing and talking about how much fun they had. Scar’s mistakes don’t lead to his death. His redemption does. 

What about Grian? Where is his downfall? There are three moments that could be considered his downfall, being betrayed, killing his partner, and his own death. I think the betrayal is simply the lead up to the real fall, and I think that killing Scar is the real fall—with the suicide being the result of that fall. Do his actions lead him to that conclusion? Answer: sorta? You could argue that his mistake really was getting close to anyone in the first place. He knew he would have to finish the game, so he shouldn’t have let himself get attached to anyone. But his actions aren’t really “mistakes” in the tragic sense, rather, he simply follows the rules of the narrative. Grian more than anyone is simply passively following the plot, rather than being an active member in it. The only part that wasn’t in the plan was having to kill a friend—not just a competitor. So this one is arguable.

Now I talk about Scar and Grian a lot in these discussions of narrative structure, and because as the protagonists, theirs is the POV you are expected to make these assessments from (a tragedy is inherently about the main character, after all. If an antagonist falls, that’s simply comeuppance). But I do still want to talk about the primary antagonist: Ren. And it’s because his storyline really is a perfect tragedy. He starts out just trying to survive, he sets up a business, tries to gather resources and alliances that way, gets dragged along by Martyn who has to show him how to survive. But as things start going well for him, he gets the idea to expand. He has lots of allies now, lots of supplies, why not get everyone in on this? Ren’s hubris leads him to splitting the server in two, and though at first they dominate the fight, each battle they lose a little bit more. His actions have brought once-enemies together all for the sake of defeating him, and he is killed by the person he was trying to protect himself from. His mistake was forcing the partnerships into larger alliances, and it lead directly to his downfall—his death and the death of his kingdom. It’s a very neat and tidy tragedy.

The other notable tragedy is Scott’s. His mistake comes quite late, and his downfall comes immediately after. He does well, plays it smart all the way up until Jimmy dies. And then he loses his head a little. Goes after revenge over anything else. He doesn’t wait for other allies to join him, doesn’t stick with the group as they are gearing up for a larger fight. No, he simply goes to kill Skizz on his own (with Joel, who happened to be there), and then gets killed alone and surrounded. His mistake was simple—going for revenge instead of working with the alliance. But It gets worse when you consider his pact with Cleo. He hadn’t wanted to leave his partner, but he did have a plan B if anything ever happened. And instead of leaning on that plan B, he gets himself killed for revenge. And Cleo ends up dying alone too, doing something similar. So with Scott, we see a more subtle tragedy. 

There are a few more individual POVs that have tragedies included too. But more are just sad. Impulse playing the field, making everyone question where his loyalties are, only to then prove to be strongly loyal to his original alliance—and then HE is the one betrayed? What are heartache. BigB relying on agreements made earlier, before the war, and ending up with an audience as he gets killed instead? Devastating. But not tragedies in the strict sense. 

And similarly, neither is the cactus ring a capital T Tragedy. No one’s mistakes lead them there. Their love and their loyalty did. They overcame everything together, and ended up at the end together. The fact that no matter what they did, this couldn’t be avoided, that this was ordained, that it was fate. That is what makes the cactus ring so heartfelt. They did everything right, at least in the end, and they still ended up here, in a bloody duel to the death. 

Masterlist

By the way, anyone can add to this series if you want! Tag it 3rd life literary analysis, and the one rule is you gotta treat it like a proper analysis haha

[em-mermaid]

Gem wakes up during Secret Life and discovers something has changed (aka 1296 words of Gem/Pearl for @mcyt-yuri-week)

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

The first thing Gem hears are muffled voices outside. They seem to be angry about something, or perhaps distressed? She definitely knows they are louder than normal. She groans at the noise, but it brings her closer to consciousness, curiosity poking its way through the haze of sleep.

When she opens her eyes, the world spins and her head throbs. Everything is too bright, too much, and she’s quick to squeeze her eyes closed again, desperate for the feeling to go away.

She waits and ever so slowly, the voices fade back in as the overwhelm of feelings fades out.

“Impulse, you let me in right now or I’ll make you regret it.” There is a seriousness behind the threat that makes Gem sure that whatever is happening is far more important than she can comprehend right now.

“C’mon Pearl,” he placates, and Gem can imagine his hands held up in near surrender. “Give her a few more minutes, she’s not even awake yet!”

Are they talking about her? What would be so important that Pearl would threaten Impulse of all people. They were getting along earlier, weren’t they?

Earlier.

Flashes of memories finally surface to her conscious mind. The Game. The cherry forest where she built a home with her Scotts. Her tasks and a trip to the nether.

An angry enderman.

The end portal.

She’s a yellow in the death Game because They had instructed her to open up the end portal. And now her friends are arguing outside her house.

Surely, this will be fine. She takes a breath and slowly opens her eyes. The world spins again in a burst of too bright color. The pink of her walls is near blinding and it swirls into the mahogany of her ceiling. It hurts. It’s almost too much, but she squints, determined to hold out until the colors stop melding together.

Pearl’s voice sounds distant now, beyond the intensity of the light. “If you don’t let me past in the next five seconds—”

“Ok fine, you can go in!” Impulse finally agrees, panic lacing his words. “But, before you do, you should really know—”

The door opens. It’s a quiet action, calm after all the arguing, but with it comes the sunlight. The greens of the grass and blue of a sword mixing with the ever growing cacophony of color. It’s too much.

She shuts her eyes again with a wince, an action Pearl seems to notice immediately.

“Gem?” She asks, urgent and confused. Why is Pearl confused? The door closes and there is a clatter of a sword, hastily set aside as Pearl rushes towards the bed. The mattress dips as she sits near her stomach. “Gem, are you alright? What happened?”

“‘s bright,” she manages to mumble before the headache spikes with the effort of the words. Pearl says something in acknowledgement and moves away, but Gem’s focus has already wandered towards taking stock of her body.

Her mouth is dry. Dry in a way she’s sure she has never experienced. It’s horrible the way her throat catches when she tries to swallow, but for some reason the thought of drinking water is incredibly unappealing. She licks her lips in an attempt to bring some moisture back. It doesn’t work.

The next thing she notices is that her body feels heavy, sluggish. One of her arms has gone numb, probably due to the way she was sleeping.

Pearl’s weight returns to the edge of the mattress and Gem groans, wrapping towards the warmth. There’s a small chuckle as Pearl begins tracing soothing circles along her not-numb arm. “Gem, you want to try and open your eyes again? I blocked off all the windows.”

This time she steadies herself, trying to mentally prepare for the spinning. She knows it might not work, but at least Pearl is here, grounding her with a gentle touch.

She opens her eyes.

Darkness, blacks and grays spiral in with the orange of a single torch. Faded denim pants and a familiar black sweater slowly take shape and lead her eyes upward towards Pearl’s face, her too-yellow eyes shining like beacons in the dark.

This time, though, it’s not too much.

Slowly, the overwhelm dims into the shadows, clearing her vision enough for Pearl’s expression to take shape. Her brows are pinched together in concern, lips pursed as her eyes flick back and forth, seemingly taking in the details of Gem’s face.

When their eyes finally meet, Pearl’s mouth twists into a hesitant, concerned smile. “There you are,” she sighs, and it sounds far too close to one of relief.

Gem wants to reach out, wants to soothe the lines from her forehead, wants to hold Pearl’s cheek and tell her that whatever is causing this stress can be solved, but she finds that her body is still too heavy from sleep to do so. Plus, whatever is worrying Pearl must be about her.

Sure, it’s not out of the ordinary for Pearl to fret over her when she’s not feeling well, but usually it looks like a bowl of soup and a silly story to keep her entertained while being stuck in bed. This though, this feels different. There is no silly glint in Pearl’s eyes, no teasing about how her hair looks like a bird's nest or how Pearl is awake before her for once. There is only an echo of an argument and urgency and a gentle hand on her arm.

So, she opens her still dry mouth and croaks out the only question she can put into words. “What’s wrong?”

Pearl lets out a hollow laugh and Gem can see the way it smooths down a small edge of her worry. “What do you mean, what’s wrong? I should be the one asking you that.”

“I’m just sick, it’s not the end of the world.”

“Just sick? Gem you were asleep for nearly a full day! I had no idea until Impulse messaged the entire chat!” Pearl exclaims, her eyes trail towards the left side of Gem’s face. “And now…”

“An entire day?”

“How does your arm feel?”

“Pearl, what?”

“Please, just trust me for a moment.” Pearl’s eyes are searching as she leans in to brush some hair from Gem’s face before cradling her cheek. The soothing circles return in the form of a thumb tracing along her cheekbone. “How does your left arm feel?”

“It’s…” She hesitates. There is a pulsing sort of pressure that runs down from her shoulder to her fingertips. It’s an odd sensation, not quite the usual feeling of sleeping wrong against a limb. She tries to wiggle her fingers to no avail. “…numb. How did you know?”

“Try not to panic, okay?”

“Panic?” Gem questions, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Why would I panic?”

Pearl only gestures for her to look.

Gem tilts her head, finally looking towards her arm. It’s still dark in the room and her arm blends into the shadows. Flicks of blues and purples dance across her skin and it’s only when she sees it contrasted next to Pearl’s pale hand that she realizes, it’s not just the shadows.

Her arm is as black as the void.

A strangled sort of shout breaks free from her lips and she tries to scramble up, away from a sight so unfamiliar. Her body is still heavy, but she manages to sit up enough to get a good look at the arm laying limp beside her.

The arm, no matter how unfamiliar, is still undeniably her own. It is the same size as her arm used to be, same short fingers, attached to the same shoulder.

It has to be a dream. Or maybe it’s a cruel prank. Why would her arm look like the void?

[phantomarine]

Clam's Quick Tips for Starting Your Very First Webcomic

Howdy! Here are the three bits of advice I tend to give people who ask me about getting into webcomic-making. Maybe they can help you jump into the fray with a little less fear.

1) Make Your First Chapter a Pilot Episode

You will be told by webcomic veterans to start with a short, simple comic idea first - which is wise - but if all you can think about is your big magnum opus, then you might as well hop in, right? Otherwise you'll just be glancing back at the other cooler project forever.

But if you can't start with a small simple story, start on a small, simple part of that larger story. Your first chapter should be a snapshot of the main conflict - show us a simple scene with few characters, ease us in slowly, keep things clear and focus on emotion/impact/clarity. Get the audience to care by offering something easily digested, but full of promise.

Once you're done with that 'pilot' chapter, and you're feeling more comfortable with the whole comic process, you can open the gates and show us the larger world. At that point, you'll be way more ready.

2) Simplify Your Art Style For Your Own Sanity

Always try to make your webcomic's art style as simple as possible - the standard rule is to use only 75% of your artistic skill for every comic page you make. Otherwise you will burn out quickly and terribly.

But you also need to be PROUD of your art style. If you're really feeling itchy, add a couple bells and whistles to your style so you can look at the finished page and say "Yeah, looks cool." You'll find the right balance the more you draw.

Also, don't be afraid to change your art style as you go along. Ultimate consistency is often impossible in webcomics anyway - so embrace your desire to try new things, streamline your work, whatever you feel needs to happen to be happiest. Sometimes the coolest part of reading a webcomic is noticing that style change - so don't hesitate to embrace it!

3) Resist the Reboot! RESIST!

The curse/blessing of drawing the same things over and over is that you'll inevitably get better at drawing those things. The trouble comes when you look back at old stuff and start thinking "Damn, I could draw that way better now."

You must recognize that this feeling never goes away. Not after a hundred pages. Not after three hundred. Not after a thousand.

I think everyone should be allowed one soft reboot for their first webcomic. Redraw some panels that bother you. Change up some dialogue if it doesn't make sense with your new story ideas. Do maintenance, basically. One of the beauties of webcomics is that they can be easily edited, without reprinting a whole book or remaking a whole game.

But if the ultimate purpose of a webcomic is to tell a story, then constant reboots will just be retelling the same story - slightly better each time, but the same at its core. We've heard it before. Most audiences would rather you save your strength and just keep going, rather than circling back year after year and going "Wait wait wait! I'll do it better this time."

Reboot early, not often, and only when you absolutely must! You're a storyteller, and you're constantly getting better at telling your story. Don't be ashamed of it - look back how much ground you've covered, and keep walking!

---

That's a good start. Happy webcomicking - don't be afraid to jump in, but be prepared to learn a lot very quickly. And if this advice doesn't work for you or adhere to how you did it, that's absolutely fine - webcomics are diverse by nature, and so are their creation processes. Feel out what works best for you, and good luck!

[nyrasbloodyclover]

a hot welcome (modern!aegon targaryen x reader)

cw: smut, p in v, fingering, reader is a virgin, aegon targaryen is a perv, daeron bff,

a/n: i am not really satisfied with this, but i had to finish it. anyway, i am logging out for some time. see you soon!

"I need you to help me pack, Daeron."

"No you don't, do it yourself. In case you forgot, I have to pack too."

Since you two became friends in freshman year, you were inseparable. You helped each other study, you hung out all the time and now he asked you to accompany him on his trip to visit his family, since they lived across the country.

"I thought you were finished! We have to leave in an hour!"

"This is why you don't have any friends. You think anyone would want to put up with this?"

"And this is why you don't have a girlfriend!"

You could've gone for hours like that, but it was really time to go.

Thirty minutes later, you were finished, and on your way.

The flight was pretty short, and you felt the nerves kicking in. The main reason Daeron asked you to come with him was that he didn't really like his family. Especially his brothers.

And from the stories you heard, you weren't a fan of them either.

Aegon was a drunk and a pervert (not Daeron's exact words, but your conclusion) and Aemond was cold and distant, emotionally unavailable probably.

Helaena was fine, she even visited a couple of times. Daeron rarely came home and his mother was very worried. She made him promise that he'd come once the school year was over.

You really had no other friends. You were glad you met him, but other people tend to be loud and too much work. You hated that.

Alicent picked you up from the airport, visibly on edge, because she wasn't very present during Daeron's childhood, but he never mentioned it. Not once. He was asking about his siblings and their pets and Alicent's new potential boyfriends. He was really nice and you loved him because of that. You tried to join their conversation, but failed so you kept quiet until you came home.

Once you got into the house Helaena was the one who greeted you, with a smile and a spider crawling up her arm.

"Oh my god! Wait, you have—" I tried to brush the little creature off, but she just laughed.

"That's my new pet. Wanna hold him?"

"Uh... Yeah, sure." She was kind and you really liked Helaena, you'd also like to get to know her better.

"Stop bothering her, sister. She just got here." It was an unfamiliar male voice and he was walking down the stairs.

Unkept shoulder length hair, dirty mouth and half closed eyes? Yes, that was Aegon.

"Why? So that you could bother her? Leave us alone."

You recognized him from Daeron's stories and he wasn't exaggerating, everything was on point. You could practically feel, not the mockery, but the perverse part of him coming to the surface.

"Hi. Aegon, right?"

His smile was twisted. "And for how long will this pretty thing be staying with us, Daeron?" He was walking over to the kitchen and your friend frowned at his brother.

"Aegon, don't."

"What?" He laughed, "It was merely a question."

Later that day, Daeron showed you your room, it was a guest room, larger than the apartment you shared with Daeron. His family was pretty wealthy.

If you'd only looked at Aegon, you could never tell.

While you were unpacking, you sensed someone's presence behind you, but before you could turn around, he was already sitting on your bed, looking like a very happy puppy. Who might do things to you if you let him.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, at least I think so. If you cooperate."

"Have you been drinking?"

"No," he giggled, he actually giggled.

"Would you please get out?"

Aegon got up and instead of leaving the room, he closed the door. You two were alone in your temporary bedroom.

"Aegon. Please get out, I don't want anything to do with you." But that was a lie. A big, fat, lie.

You wanted him to ruin you to your core, until there is nothing left for him to take. You never even had your first kiss.

It was the attention. Nobody gave you this much attention in your life, at least not in that way.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire..."

"You are so drunk. Isn't it almost dinner time? Are you going out?"

"No. Just came here...For you."

He stepped closer towards you and the back of your knees hit the bed. If he decides to come any closer, you'll have to crawl over your bed which you don't plan on doing.

Aegon could practically smell the innocence on you. It made him go mad. It made him go into his room and drink the whole bottle of wine in a heartbeat, only to be brought into your room, while you were bending over that bed, unpacking.

Daeron warned him, but he didn't give a shit. He's going to have you, one way or another.

Now you were all flushed, waiting for his next move and he didn't plan on wasting any more moments.

His hands were in your hair and in a second he was pulling you in and kissing you, devouring you and Aegon tried to slip his tongue inside your mouth, but you were still too stubborn.

You pulled away, pressing a hand over your mouth, like you've done something sinful. He loved the taste of you, and he wanted more of it.

"You..." You couldn't even look at him. How he wanted to spread you on that very bed until you can't walk.

He was ready to continue, but there was a knock on the door. Daeron.

"Dinner is ready. Mother already called, but I wasn't sure if you heard..."

"Coming!" You managed to get out, but your voice was shaky. Your face was burning.

During the dinner everyone ate silently, and at some point you could feel Aegon's knee brush against yours while he watched you from across the table. You tried to remain calm but your face grew hotter every second. You crossed your legs and he didn't fail to miss it.

His drunken eyes wandered over you, especially your cleavage in a shirt that was a bit more revealing. You forgot about it, but then cursed yourself for wearing it in such a moment.

It was thankfully over soon and you got to shower, finally! You were just finishing washing your hair when you heard the door open.

Aegon couldn't see anything, but you were paralyzed.

He took off his shirt and you had to admit, you wanted to be able to see somehow. You had no idea what his deal was, but it made your knees tremble.

"Aegon, what is it?"

"Nothing." You could see the outline of his body, he was completely naked now and he was walking towards you.

"Stop. I'm getting out. Give me a towel."

To your surprise, he obeyed and tossed you a large towel to wrap around your body. When you slid the door open his naked body flashed you, but you prepared mentally, so you didn't react, and certainly did not look anywhere besides his face and the smug expression he was giving you.

Despite your best efforts, you saw black ink of his tattoos and that was the last straw, you bolted from the bathroom.

It wasn't until you were in your room that you remembered you left your clean clothes there.

You cursed yourself, but took a spare shirt you had and used it as a pajama.

You peeked from your room to see if the bathroom was empty, and when you saw the light was out, you ran to get your things, but what took you by surprise is that the clothes were still there, all except for your underwear. Which was at the top of the pile.

Maybe you left them in your room, you didn't know, but you were too tired to care, anyway, so you got under the covers and took some time to read your book. You were so close to drifting away, but a strange noise awoke you. Like someone was in pain. It was the room beside yours.

No, not in pain, you realized, embarrassed. It was male moaning and occasional whimpering. And it was Aegon.

Was it possible that you got the room that was so close to his? You knew that he was doing that on purpose, touching himself, just to make you even more flustered.

You had trouble sleeping that night, refusing to acknowledge the pain and wetness between your legs. You woke up around four in the morning and decided to drink some cold water and try to calm down. Your heart was hammering against your chest, remembering the sounds of pleasure Aegon was making.

You opened your door, but before you could go down the stairs, you felt someone's hand on your mouth, pulling you backwards, until you were in another room. You didn't even get to panic properly. But of course, when you turned, it was Aegon who was smiling at you. It was almost dark in his room.

"What the fuck?" You whispered.

He didn't answer, but he did pull you towards him and start kissing you, no, swallowing your face would be more appropriate. It caught you off guard, but you weren't mad. You wanted him to take control, you were desperate for it.

"Ever been fucked?" He mumbled in between kissing.

"N...No," you breathed out, every part of your rationality leaving, there was just him, only him. He grinned and seemed quite satisfied with your answer. He wanted to be the one who is going to destroy you.

Just in your shirt, it was easy for him to start touching you immediately, not having to remove any clothing. You gasped at the feeling of his fingertips.

You ended up on his bed, not being able to see clearly, dizzy from the sight of him.

His fingers pulled your underwear to the side and slowly touched your clit, using your wetness to prepare you for him after slipping one finger inside of you.

"We are just getting started. Relax," he whispered the last word in your ear as his finger slid in and out. Aegon kissed your neck and collarbones, just to soothe you before slipping in another finger. He did his best to stretch your walls before entering you.

"Aegon," you covered your mouth with your hand, remembering where you were and who might hear you.

He looked at you like you were a piece of meat he was ready to butcher.

Telling you nothing more, you suddenly felt him rubbing himself against your folds. Teasing you at your entrance, making you squirm beneath him.

"I was going to wait. I really was." He grunted, but continued, "I couldn't do it, it was a perfect opportunity and this is how you're going to spend every night in this house."

Your hips moved, needing him to touch you, bury himself deep inside you. And that's precisely what he did.

He went slow. Just the tip, and then he went deeper and deeper, the pain growing, but it was quickly switched with pleasure.

He slammed his dick inside you, making you cry out in pain, not yet accustomed to him. "You're going to ride me so well, I know it." Aegon's fingers dig deep into your hips.

He even forgot to take off your panties, it was stretched to the side while he kept going in and out, without mercy.

You dragged your nails against his bare back, leaving red marks behind. You realized he probably slept just in his underwear.

He pulled himself out of you, making you gasp at the sudden emptiness.

"Shh, it's okay, come here," he gestured towards himself. Aegon was now laying down and you supposed you knew what he wanted. You were scared.

"But I've never— I don't know how—"

"Nonsense." He guided your hips towards his cock and pulled you down on him, again, very slowly and then started moving you in the rhythm that was good enough for both of you.

You continued as he showed you, his hands were on your ass, squeezing until it hurt.

You felt him deep, throwing your head back, but keeping your mouth shut.

Aegon grunted, but then a moan escaped his mouth, "Do it faster." And you tried to listen to him, you gave him your best and he seemed satisfied enough.

When you reached your peak, you stopped moving completely, letting yourself squeeze him, your thighs trembling. Aegon held your hips in place and then pulled out, but continued to rub himself on your still sensitive clit.

Your moans were what set him off and he came all over his and your stomach, gasping for air once you both fell on the bed beside each other.

"I am going to teach you so many things."

You just hoped nobody finds out. And when you turned your head you saw your missing underwear, sitting on top of Aegon's nightstand still wet.

[thesweetestofdreams]

The Gold and the Rust

How It Shines (part 1/??)

pairings: poly!marauders x reader (eventually)

warnings: drinking?

a/n: A teaser anyone? I've been working on this story behind the scenes, and I finally had the motivation/ courage to start posting some of it. I'd love to hear your thoughts and welcome to my latest obsession.

In a sea of scarlet and gold stood a fraud, a coward. Every year you returned to Gryffindor house, and every year reminded you it would never truly be your home. You watched as hopeful first years squirmed under the sorting hat. You watched to see the flicker of pride, relief, disappointment before raucous applause and acceptance. That night when the prefects tricked the first years into bed early the real ceremonies would begin. Ceremonies which for Gryffindors meant spiked punch and the regalement of Summer holidays. 

The plan never changed, to wear the lion’s costume, to drown yourself in a red sweater, and exchange stinging pleasantries until an acceptable time of escape. Unfortunately for you, true Gryffindors rarely stick to plans. 

At the center of particularly loud merriment, as was usually the case, stood James Potter. Marauder one, as you sometimes thought of him, had miraculously grown even larger over the holiday and was already orchestrating bets on the upcoming quidditch season. On his left sat Marauder two, Remus Lupin, balancing his drink with a loving smirk as James jostled him with the story of his fastest run to date. And Marauder three, well he was nowhere to be found. Nowhere being that he wasn’t melting into the side of either of his boyfriends. 

“Did you miss me?” Sirius Black, Marauder three, appeared just over your shoulder. You would have jumped if not for years of practice. 

“Miss you sneaking up on me? I think I’ll have to say no,” you said. Sirius stood before you obviously waiting for you to take him in. His hair seemed longer, cheekbones maybe a touch sharper, and on his neck a fresh stain of purple proudly worn. You moved his hair to the side, an incredulous parting of your lips dared to betray you. “Already? When do you boys even find the time?”

“It’s an awfully long train ride, doll,” he said, a prideful grin and mischievous eyes so familiar it bordered on dangerous. “Speaking of the train, where were you? You could have joined us.” He wrapped an arm over your shoulder turning back to watch the show of a freshly reunited lions’ den. 

You allowed herself all of one second to fluster, Sirius just kept grinning. “I was about. Mostly I was failing at trying to find good tea,” you said, occupying the rest of your lie with sips of nearly gone punch. 

“Mmm,” he nodded before finishing his own cup, “but what if there had been something sweeter just around the corner?” 

“Alright, Black, that’s enough of that,” you said, pulling his arm up from your shoulder, letting it swing overhead as you took a step back.

“Leaving already?” He tilted his head to the side, a flicker of what might have been disappointment in his eyes, like a sad dog. 

“Despite James’ example, classes do start tomorrow.” You spared one last look towards the couch. James was now fully occupying all of Remus’ personal space, a ruddy tinge to his brown cheeks. “Don’t make Remus put up with two hungover boyfriends.” 

“Enjoy your night (y/n), and try to be about more this year, yeah? You might have some fun.” He took another hardy drink, clearly ignoring your comment. As you retreated to your dorm, part of you stayed down in the common room. The part of you that wondered if Sirius Black, the first in his family to be sorted into Gryffindor house, ever saw through you, if he ever felt like a fraud. But then, how could a Marauder, a golden boy of the house of splendor ever feel anything less than belonging?

[ed-recovery-affirmations]

I just made myself a cup of a new tea, one from a set that a friend sent me. I was super curious to try it with and without milk in it, so after I take a sip without, I'm going to add milk to my tea.

That may seem like such an inane little story to post on a blog, unless you have an eating disorder. I'm sure many of you know what a big deal milk in tea can be, and what an important act of self-love it is.

It was poured into many of our ears, approaching teenhood in the mid-2000's, not to "drink our calories." For those of us whose restriction was weight-based, many of us practiced filling ourselves with water, with our coffee black and unsweetened whether that was how we liked it or not, and with tea that never contained milk.

Like many people who've struggled with binge eating and with restriction, I struggle with creating anxiety-inducing rules about when is okay to eat, especially if I'm between meals and worrying if I should allow myself a snack, or if it's okay to quench my thirst with anything other than water. This is especially true between meals. For some reason my brain has accepted the "extra" caloric intake as part of a meal, but still balks at the idea of introducing these things independently into non-meal parts of the day. I would like to note that my chronic illness and my body's reaction to food has also influenced this weird relationship between me and my favorite treats, such as a piece of candy, or a beverage that might happen to contain a greater-than-zero calorie count.

But tonight, before bed, I want to try this tea. And it sounds like one that'd be super tasty with milk, as it has cocoa powder and vanilla in the blend. So I let my tea cool in the room with me as I type this, telling myself that I can get up and go back for milk after I taste it.

Now I have gone to the kitchen.

Now I have poured in a splash of milk and tasted. It's soy milk, as regular milk sometimes hurts my stomach and I don't want my sleep to be disrupted. Due to my chronic illness, this is still something I have to think about, and I'll be honest, I hate it. Things like this make it so hard to tell myself I can let go of my food fears, because my brain knows that some of my food fears will turn out to have validity, and so what if they all do?

Now I have poured in another splash. Tasted.

Now I have poured in a third, much larger splash. Tasted.

Oh, this is it. This tea tastes like a warm dessert. But now it's too cool, so I need to microwave it back to its best heat. I used to not want to microwave my food. As a teen I heard a hippie say that microwaves destroy the nutrients in your food because the radiation breaks down their molecular structure. This is absolutely false. In fact, it's been disproven that microwaves break down nutrients any more than other methods of heating food, but for a long time I believed it. And even after I learned the truth, I still found it hard to convince myself it was okay to use microwaves for a very long time.

I have just finished my tea in my room. I took the time to identify that I wanted it. I took the time to truly taste it in several different ways, consider how I felt I wanted it and bring it to those specifications. It wasn't planned for any specific time or day, but I agreed to give myself this the way I wanted it anyway. I've been drinking my coffee with milk every morning, too. I actually like black coffee, but I like it better with milk. And I give myself things throughout the day that I enjoy, to enhance my experience of my existence. Life is hard, and it's okay to allow yourself, to the fullest extent you can, the small joys that bring you through the day.

I wanted to share this with you. I hope you don't feel the crushing weight of morality when staring at a bottle of regular soda and the sugar-free, when you wake up with your morning coffee, when your self-care regimen includes a cup of tea. I hope you practice actively giving yourself the love you need this week. And I hope you give it to yourself exactly the way you need it.

[tyrantisterror]

I've seen Utena and Evangelion get compared to each other for both being 1. dark coming of age stories that get increasingly surreal as time goes on and 2. supposedly deconstructing their respective genres. And I think there's a good basis for comparison in there, definitely, and they've both become anime I've made a point to revisit because they struck a very strong chord with me.

I think what gets me when comparing them, though, is that Utena gets to do what Evangelion sets up but never managed to finish - and some people inexplicably criticize Utena for it?

Cause Evangelion was clearly meant to be a longer series. They establish early on that there are eight Evas and eight teenage pilots for them. In the series itself we see four - well, five, technically, since an angel posing as a human named Kaworu tricks everyone into letting him pilot an eva, but still. There three side character teenagers introduced early, one of which pilots an eva (to disastrous results) while the other two remain supporting cast. It's possible they were intended to eventually be eva pilots too, but it's also possible the mystery pilots might have been foreignors like Asuka.

Either way, it's clear the story was meant to become bigger, but because of various behind the scenes reasons it didn't - it ultimately remains focused primarily on Shinji, Gendo (the true antagonist), Asuka, Rei, and to a lesser extent, Misato. And don't get me wrong, that still makes for an incredibly engaging show - I wouldn't trade any of the episodes and scenes focused on those cast members for the world, the depth to which those characters are explored is a huge part of what makes the series meaningful for me.

But Utena, while being a similarly character-focused series, does get to expand its scope in the way Evangelion set up but never paid off. The cast of Utena does get larger, and while the focus remains primarily on Utena, Anthy, the true antagonist Dio, and to a lesser extent Touga and Nanami, it finds time to shine the spotlight on a very rich supporting cast of characters. The Black Rose arc in particular is great for this, because it gives the supporting cast members introduced in the first arc - Juri, Miki, Nanami, garbage boy Saionji, and Wakaba - their own arcs and, in many cases, their own relationships with characters outside of Utena and Anthy's direct orbit. The lives and relationships of all these characters become really rich and interesting, with their own quirks and problems to overcome.

And, like, I've seen some people say this is a flaw - that these are "filler" episodes, that you can skip the Black Rose arc entirely, and it's baffling to me. The way all of these characters interplay with each other, how their struggles and arcs mirror and complement each other, is what makes the world and story of Utena so rich. It's still about Utena and Anthy in the end, but Utena and Anthy's arc is also made so much more meaningful by how it reflects the arcs of everyone around them - that ultimately all these characters are sharing facets of the same struggle, and if there's hope for Utena and Anthy at the end (and there is, especially in the movie), then there's hope for all these characters and, indeed, everyone in the audience who sympathized with them.

One thing that'll plague my imagination till the end of my days is the concept of what Evangelion would be if it could have broadened its scope the way they originally planned, and the way Utena broadens the scope of its narrative only fuels that wonder more. I'd kill to see Evangelion's Black Rose arc, and I'm so glad Utena got to have its world grow.

[rashomonss]

A HUMANS WRATH

Part XIII.V

previous part

taglist: @miridiums-writing, @zerchila, @aeongiies, @xmoogx, @coffeeandtealol, @food-lover9000, @l0diluvs, @vichsy, @valeriele3, @entolomaeden, @acaribeau, @arcayia, @jessiegerl, @capricorn-anon, @crescentworld, @g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r, @chumbinhoeba, @chaos-n-kindness, @strawberryfire17, @zenxvii, @misscaller06, @luminarysol, @simpinginthecorner, @your-next-daydream, @bontensbabygirl, @crxwned-mxnarch, @ibtisam-aran, @mochicurls21, @rxsehxney, @xpixie, @ihatecorns, @hello-gloomy, @lunarloathsome

a/n: i’m so sorry y'all, if i’m being honest i did somewhat forget about this story for a bit but i’m back! honestly i would’ve been back sooner but being a biology major is currently killing me. anyway i hope y’all enjoy this really small chapter! it might be confusing but it’s a set up for a larger plot point i want to hit a bit later on!

we meet at last

the perspective of a conflicted human

A sigh escaped the lips of Barbatos as he polished the silverware for Diavolo’s upcoming tea party with Lucifer. Things had been going smoothly with you and the brothers lately, it wasn’t supposed to go this smoothly but nonetheless he’s finished his end of the bargain.

If Barbatos was honest he was slightly indifferent to this version of you. Yes it may be a different version of you, but it’s not the same you he knows. He can tell Diavolo feels the same. As much as his lord tries to hide it Barbatos can tell Diavolo becomes very awkward when this version of you is speaking to him.

While he’s glad you’re not causing any more harm to the brothers he believes you to be a problem. If you get too comfortable with the demons that are not yours then you might not want to head back.

After all you had received a heartfelt apology, something this timelines Mc was never able to receive. And after receiving that said apology you then went on to mend your relationship with the brothers. However the agreement was to mend that relationship with “your” demon brothers, not the ones from this timeline.

The more he thought about the situation the deeper his frown became. Since he deemed himself the most competent he was going to get his version of you back, no matter the cost.

Time flew by as he arranged everything for the tea party. And as the second slice of cake was cut and placed in front of Diavolo, Barbatos then excused himself.

Letting out another sigh he walked into his room and sat on one of his chairs, then sent a message to your phone, asking if you’d like to join him for tea.

You wasted no time in responding and he smiled when you said you were leaving soon. True to your word you left the House of Lamentation in a bit of a rush and made your way to the Demon Lord’s castle. It had been awhile since you had seen, or let alone talked to Barbatos.

Him and Divaolo were slightly awkward around you, so you decided to use this opportunity and try your hand at getting closer towards him.

——

the perspective of the original

“Follow me” is all Barbatos said as he pulled you through the dark hallways of the castle.

As you let him drag you like a ragdoll through the hallways he finally stopped in front of his room. He wasted no time when he pushed you into a chair and shoved a book in your hand. Even in the dimly lit room you recognized the pages of this book, it was the same cursed piece that had gotten you into this predicament. You tried to speak but Barbatos covered your mouth with his gloved hand and gave you a small hug.

“I’m sending you home now, I appreciate what you’ve done here” Barbatos spoke finally smiling genuinely; he then cast a spell you had never heard of and everything quickly became blurry.

It was so rushed you had no time to keep up with what had happened. A second ago you were with him as he spoke about getting you home. However one moment your hand had been on the cursed novel, the next you appeared to be in a pitch black room, alone.

What was this place?

Was it your subconscious that he mentioned earlier? Or was it more?

No matter where this was you couldn’t stop that feeling of dread washing over you with each step you took into the abyss. You remained calm nonetheless, besides you’d been through much worse than this. Is what you always told yourself when you felt the slightest bit of fear.

After walking for what seemed like hours on end a staircase appeared in front of you, an extremely familiar one at that. It was none other than the staircase to the attic. The color even down to the chilling temperature of the rails resembled the exact one in the House of Lamentation. Maybe it was a sense of déjà vu that washed over you when you climbed the stairs, but no matter what it was you received the same goosebumps like the first time. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea…

The attics room greeted you as you made your last step up. It didn’t matter if you had been here countless times with Belphie before; being here alone was enough to send you into a state of panic.

Just like before you stepped closer towards the room, mainly interested if you’d find the youngest inside. This time, interestingly enough, the door was open and the room was empty. No one resided in here at this moment, if so why were you here now?

You sat down on the familiar bed you would take naps on with Belphie, and waited.

For anything really.

However the longer you appeared to wait, nothing ever came.

It was just you and this room.

That was until footsteps could be heard as they walked up the stairs, a few mumbles following along with them. Even the voice was hard to pinpoint because you weren’t sure you recognized it. The figure finally made its way to the doorframe and froze in place, dropping whatever they had in their hand. You turned your head to see exactly who it was and once you met their eyes your breathing stopped.

It’s no wonder you had a difficult time pinpointing the voice.

Most people have trouble recognizing their own voice if they’re not currently speaking.

But there’s no possible explanation other than the person standing just a few feet away from you was in fact, also you.

next part

[witchhazelevesque]

There's something about the change and progression from Leo's hesitancy to rescue Nico because it would definitely be a trap to his willingness to go back for Calypso and all the ways his death is involved in that journey.

And I don't even mean progression as in Leo's stance on Nico influenced his decision about Calypso- though that could have been a really satisfying way to take that. But they are at the core the same situation: a rescue mission, with vastly different circumstances.

(I don't like romantic ca/eo, but them as friends? Sign me up. That's the only way I can imagine them, and what I mean when I talk about them here.)

The situation sometimes gets boiled down to 'Leo and Jason wanted to leave Nico in the jar', but there's more to it . For one thing, Leo wasn't even able to voice all his thoughts on the matter, because he was interrupted by Hazel, Frank and Jason. That doesn't negate the overall suspicion/wariness Leo has; he brings up two major points: that the giants are using Nico to bait a trap for the rest of them and that Nico hid the camps from one another. But Leo was surprised by Frank and Hazel’s reaction and question about whether Leo meant they should leave Nico. So, it seems in part 'can we trust him?', but also in part something like, 'this is a trap, we should be aware of that and be on the defensive when doing it'.

Leo's actions later also factor into this, though they were mainly for Hazel's benefit. He wanted to use Nemesis's deal to save Nico. And in a way, this decision is more reckless and dangerous than any ways death was involved in going back for Calypso. And in a way, more romantic, which is kind of funny because it could be interpreted for either Hazel or Nico. That aside, this offer was voluntary and unconnected to Leo’s other duties.

But his decision to die was connected to those duties. It wasn’t dependent on Calypso. He didn’t do it for her. Yes, he does think about how he feels his place is with her and not the rest of the seven, but that’s not the only reason. Even without her in the picture, he was going to sacrifice himself. He died because the Fates put a choice in front of him. He died to defeat Gaea, to spare Jason, to save all his friends and the world.

And to avenge his mother.

Yes, his decision to go back to Ogygia without first letting his friends know he’d be okay is not fair to them, but RR was always gonna make it happen this way, which I'll get into in a second. But working with what is here, I do understand Leo's decision. Leo explains this best when he says, "Calypso is a priority”. It’s plausible that they'd want the other to be a little selfish about them / want to be a little selfish about each other. To prioritize them. This could have been something they connected over, and it would have been cathartic for this to have played a larger role. To choose one another.

And maybe that makes more sense if you look at it in a vacuum, without the context of how their interactions were executed and just the overall shape of their intended dynamic in the story: both isolated and alone, brought together by someone else's design, connecting regardless. Someone who never felt chosen wanting to make sure someone he cared for does feel chosen after waiting so long both to be the first choice and to have her freedom.

And that might not be compelling to everyone, but it is small in comparison to the actual major reason I understand Leo’s decision to prioritize Calypso: because it’s about fulfilling the plot, not about characterization.

Which may seem obvious because these books are about fast paced plot, but it matters so much here. I would say RR wrote himself into a corner, but I don't think he actually minded being there.

But it was still a corner.

It parallels Zeus saying that Hera bringing the seven together wove fate in a way that only left so many avenues open.

It was pretty clear by the end that RR did not care about the quality of finishing the quest, since another line of the prophecy, ‘the world must fall’ was built up so much and then the final battle between ‘fire’ and ‘the world’ took six pages.

Six pages.

RR just got it done. 

The choice to have Leo's trip back to Ogygia happen at this moment ultimately is about tying up loose ends of the prophecy. Prophecy has always been made clear by the end of each book in this verse, iirc. Leo's characterization basically turned into just him thinking about Calypso, which is disappointing. But it feels, at least to me, that Leo only left before talking to his friends because it was a lynchpin for those plot requirements of the prophecy, and because RR wanted the situation the other characters ended the series in to be ✨dramatic and mysterious✨

Sort of a benefit, we at least get to see Hazel and Frank deliver the news (one of the few things they got to do in BoO).

It's also strange that Leo set the timer for 24 hours the night before the battle, maybe it was because he couldn't have anticipated Zeus sending them back to New York so fast, maybe he thought the battle with Gaea might last longer. But it was set to resurrect him long after he died and Festus flew him from camp. Leo heard Asclepius say to administer the cure as soon after death as possible. Maybe Leo didn’t know what would happen, but RR did and he set it up this way. If this time detail had stayed the same but Leo didn’t leave for Ogygia right then, I wonder how that would play out. If he hadn't gone, would the others have taken his body off Festus? Would they have been able to find where he’d put the cure? (That’s a bit of a tangent though.)

The details of how it actually worked are never addressed to maintain the ✨mystique✨ around what Leo’s plan actually was. BUT it could have made a big difference in the reception of the end of the novel if something had been explicitly set up earlier, and that’s if Leo would have needed a massive power source to 'break out of reality' so to speak, to kick start his return to Ogygia, since it doesn't exist in the real world. When Percy ended up there, it was during Mt St Helens' erupting and Hera guided his way. Leo's first trip was powered by another goddess.

And what a convenient power source he had in himself, his body turning molten, releasing everything inside himself, this literal gift and burden from the god of fire, in a genuinely once in a lifetime event- because it was so powerful it literally killed him, created an explosion strong enough to vaporize a primordial deity. It would have been a now or never situation, when else was he going to have the power of a force of nature except the one he has inside of himself?

It's one possibility that wasn’t taken.

Maybe if this had been the case and had been explained beforehand, this plot point would have been more palatable.

But then it also could have supported the idea that Leo did die for Calypso. But it didn’t actually happen this way.

However, a driving force that is known for sure is the oath with a final breath line that RR needed to get done.

Having Leo fulfill the oath with his final breath, when he died, was necessary to deliver on everything the story had been promising. It checked off the last item in the central prophecy of the series. Prophecies have been a focal point of each book in all the PJOverse and having the meaning unfold and come to fruition plays a major role, think Rachel literally crash landing into the Battle of Manhattan to tell Percy he wasn’t the hero in the prophecy.

So, with the way HoO and BoO are written, the only piece of the prophecy missing after Leo defeats Gaea is the ‘oath to keep with a final breath’. It didn’t matter if it made sense or not, if it was a good idea or not, if it was in character or not, the oath being kept had to happen in this moment. Leo had to go back for Calypso right then. It was the plot bending the character, not the character driving the plot, which, I mean, isn't too surprising, these books aren't really deep dives into the characters.

Back to the original topic though, Leo was in very different head spaces with different circumstances in these two rescue missions. He had to take into account the safety of the entire crew and the quest when considering Nico, and when he did decide to take a risk, it was one that would only put himself on the line. With Calypso, he knew he was going to die one way or another, that in doing so he would complete the quest, and that he had to keep his oath 'with a final breath', which, again, is a narrative point that needed to be checked off. There were already multiple plot lines that didn't pay off (Frank bringing his family full circle happened off screen within six pages a g a i n Hazel's curse being washed away wasn’t explained satisfactorily, etc.) but this one had top billing, RR couldn't get away with not delivering.

Again, a plot choice, not a characterization one. RR had to write it that way because of the choices he'd already made.

This got very far away from my original thought of valdangelo pining with Nico cycling through some of these thoughts while waiting for Leo to get back to camp. Him thinking "you wouldn't do it for me, but you would for her.”

And if that was the case, then Leo dying- which would have been an extreme version of one of his worries about rescuing Nico- would make more sense as a point of contention between Nico and Leo in ToA. Maybe Nico would logically recognize all the reasons aside from Calypso that Leo sacrificed himself, but he couldn't get his feelings to understand the difference.

[crguang]

Literally did all of Cabernet’s event once it hit for me. AND OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH MMMMMMYYYYYY GGGGGOOOOODDDD her voice is sooooo good. I’d happily be one of her ingredients tbh and I’d be right there with her helping her find souls to eat. Do you have any thoughts about Cabernet?

OH also might be a bit spoiler but if you’ve gotten to the part where Cabernet “sacrifices” herself for us and we get the cg of her in the vines. After like finding out that she can control vines she willingly put herself in that position. Any thoughts? Thirsts? I have a lot but I haven’t written in like a year so I’m not confident enough to write a whole like summary or whatever a lot of people do here and other blogs.

Also happy that you’re into Ptn and honestly can’t wait to see more writing from you about it.

i just finished her event. i have so many thoughts, bear with me because i don’t even know where to begin, this was such a good and creative spin to ‘the menu’ (2022) i loved it so much it’s gonna take a lot to have another event take the #1 spot. PTN’s creativity and artistry is what constantly draws me in the first place, but it still baffles me how they can create stories so unique, and so many of them too. lesbianism aside, this is such a fun event omg. the music, the battles, the banquet menu and having Cabernet review each of them afterwards— so fun. now, as a lesbian… i’ll just say that by the end of it i was so flustered and hot that i couldn’t say a word for several long minutes.

do i have any thoughts about Cabernet… how do i even explain how delightful that woman is like first of all, she’s so gorgeous i had to drink a lot of water getting through that event. she’s so fucking sexy. it’s not even just her appearance, it’s the way she carries herself and how everyone around her treats her as some untouchable, larger than life figure, the confidence and detachment that comes with that is so hot. it’s not even a performance!!!! she lives her truth and does what she wants. she doesn’t eat what she doesn’t want to eat. and everyone else around her scrambles to fit her standards because of her background and eccentricity— it’s so fascinating how she never directly influences what others think, they simply immediately take her words as either “good” or “bad”. she’s not telling them what to eat. she’s not like that food blogger reporting on what people should consume to be healthier, or that boxing champion who’s going around telling people they should work out to be stronger/slimmer. she gives her opinion on food and leaves. people come to her. they’ve made up this character in their mind and the whole time she’s just after some delicious food. at the end, with McGrath, what she said to the chef were her genuine thoughts. sure, she concealed them for the bit but when it comes to the sanctity of food and her own desires, she’s always so honest, i really like that.

HER VOICE. DON’T GET ME STARTED. it fits her so perfectly, the way it plays into her character as someone who has others dote and wait on her constantly. she’s so kafka-like!!!! where she only ever talks at her own pace, does what she wants, has people listening to her every word with unwavering attention— she’s composed, confident and laidback and it shows just by the way she talks it’s so great. the drawl… the rasp… the breathiness as she loses herself in her own ecstasy, GODDDDD. how deep and intense it gets sometimes. her VA had to be in crippling debt because the effort and talent that was put into this performance hit me so hard i was sooo flustered (im playing with headphones and my settings are set so that the voices are louder than the music so she was really speaking into my ears like.) almost had my eyes rolling back and definitely had me pulling at my collar when she got so ecstatic at the end. the breathy “yes.. yes!” WHATTTT???!?!? i will send AISNO my therapy bills because they knew what they were doing having her moan like that and call Kelvin a good girl. me next im begging

LET’S TALK ABOUT THE ENDING. LET’S. so many things to say, so little words to convey how specially crafted for me that scene was. cannibalism as the ultimate form of desire will always be appealing to me, and not even in a sexual standpoint (we’ll get there eventually…) to need someone so fiercely that the only logical solution is to consume them entirely will always hit for me like! there doesn’t have to be sentimentality involved, it could be pure bottomless and insatiable lust but this scene was so romantic to me. she waited for Chief to wake up, tied them up prettily for her, made a whole culinary arrangement (that she doesn’t eat!), she’s constantly reigning in her own desires, what she lives by (“a sinner’s power comes from the heart”), just to truly savour them and have them both eventually “become one” (that voiceline makes me tweak). and it’s beautiful when you think about how she doesn’t literally eat people but instead consumes their souls; she finds Chief’s soul so unique, so genuine and pure that she would stay by their side despite that deep seated desire to devour them. she keeps them close the whole time; a hand on her flushed cheek, a kiss on their hair, her lips on their wrist directly over what gives them life… i sound like a freak but that is genuinely so beautiful to me LMFAO. there is nothing more intimate than two souls merging into one.

it’s like the writers pried into my mind and made this whole event for me to enjoy personally because i picked up exactly what they were putting down like that was magnificent. this quote especially tingled my brain sooooo good because again, SO ROMANTIC???? those options both require intimacy and it implies more than just understanding of a character; to kiss someone’s thoughts is not only understanding them but embracing them completely. to offer your flesh willingly for another’s satiation is the most extreme form of devotion like am i crazy…? this is peak to me

im realizing i didnt answer your question about the scene with the vines but you can guess that it had me shuddering just like everything that happened afterwards because SHE’S HOT AS FUCK. her poison ivy slay. the art is incredible and the way she’s still so seductive about it is so… i need her tremendously. she knew what she was doing and had to go down looking sexy as fuck and honestly i respect it. i understand McGrath so bad because that obsession was delicious like sorry, luring dozens of people into playing a twisted game where they inevitably all turn into dishes to be reviewed and/or savoured by the object of your longing is some shit i’d write fr. look at her bruh. that blush is insane. forget enacting a self-given sort of divine judgement on random people, i’d actively BETTER MYSELF to become the most scrumptious meal she’s ever had. no tying up necessary unless she’s into that.

i could thirst all night long. we would have the freakiest, wettest, sloppiest sex i’d be lethargic for 3 days afterwards. i would be in her dms like “please let me eat your pussy please let me eat your pussy pleaseeee please please please please”. i am NOT demure i am not classy i have no decorum— i’d spend so long between her thighs my jaw would dislocate like idk. we would fuck until our combined bodily fluids mutate on a cellular level and creates toxic gas that wipes out half the city. i’d start eating her back likejhdjfjsjdjs

jokes aside i really am obsessed with her character, she’s definitely in my top 5😵‍💫 it probably goes something like hamel, adela, garofano, cabernet, oak casket. i just know my top 2 aren’t moving yet (shalom……..) but yeah i love her a lot and i can’t believe they didn’t rerun her banner at the same time like they did adela because now im mad she’s not in my account

[stolasdearest]

Inspiration Song : Forgotten Love By Aurora

Halsin x Gn!Reader

Not Proofread!

Synopsis : After the Final battle you and Halsin part ways as longed lovers, Halsin making his Task taking care of the less fortunate waiting for your return

A Reunion long overdue,my heart

You set foot in what was once the cursed Shadow lands a land you hadn't visited in years; gazing at the flourishing land that was once cold, lonely and lacking in color.

Now it was so gorgeous; Colorful with trees and life all around you, Thaniel and Oliver did spectacular work making this land whole again.

But that wasn't why you were here, you were looking for your lover, Halsin who you agreed to part with after the Battle against the Netherbrain. He to help with the people in Moonrise and you Baldurs gate both of your hands were incredibly full as time flew by.

You didn't know if he was even still here, going here on a limb as you longed for him another night, Hoping he felt the same.

A part of you cringed in fear that he might've found someone new; you never split but your status was never set in stone as you went separate ways.

Finally you walked into what you'd been told had been Halsins place of living after asking around other locals, You saw the children he talked about the morning after the battle and you quickly got one of theirs attention

"excuse me, Have you seen a man named Halsin?"

The child almost jumped into the clouds with excitement

"Daddy Halsin?! Yes of course we were just on our way to him!"

You smiled at the child as you followed them, Being led through a door where Halsin was sat next to another group of children telling them a story

"daddy Halsin, somebody is here to see you!"

The child pointed to you with their hand the other holding your larger hand.

Halsins eyes spread in shock as he stopped talking about, whatever he was talking about. His eyes scanning you very intensely before he cleared his throat as he stood up motioning the kids to scurry off

"Come on Children, Me and this nice person need some privacy"

With a slew of "okay"s and "awe"s the children flooded out the door behind you, your eyes never leaving Halsin.

As soon as the last child left, politely closing the door for you two Halsin rushed up to you, almost crushing you in a bear hug as he lifted you into the air. Inhaling your smell after so many years, he finally decided to pull away with you still in his arms

"my heart! You've returned"

Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes as you had gotten closer to him, The lines around his eyes had become more, Along with some smile lines. The years and task of raising many children showing on his yet handsome face he spoke quietly after observing your expression on his own

"I thought we'd never cross paths again.."

You almost burst into a crying laughing mess as you heard his words what foolish words; you huffed as you smacked his shoulder.

"and never see that handsome face again? I thought you were smarter than this"

His laughter roared in the room as he put you down, His arms still around your waist he rests his forehead against yours

"what brings you here, my love?"

The silence after was comfortable, Peaceful as your hand cupped his cheek you contemplated your next words,

"I promised we'd cross paths again and I keep my promises"

Halsins eyes crinkle as he grins from ear to ear his next words interrupted before he can even open his mouth

"and, I hoped you'd have the room to let me settle here, with you"

A content sigh left Halsins lips as he pulled you in for a longing kiss, gentle and tender.

"I've waited years for you to be in my arms again, please do not separate from me ever again, my heart"

I JUST FINISHED THE GAME WITH MY GIRLFRIEND TODAY AND HALSIN???

this might be horrible but it's 3am have mercy

[justanoval]

Life Updates

Hey Tumblr gang!

If you've noticed I've been active less on platforms like Patreon, Twitch, Discord, and even a little less frequent with my YouTube uploads, this post will address that.

The biggest reason is that I simply do not have enough energy to delegate anymore. With my health issues progressing, I've been slowly losing my energy to give out to different areas, and I've had to decrease my focus.

My main focuses are now animations, music, merchandise, and Creeper County.

That's the jist. If you want more specifics, you can keep reading further.

Twitch

I really really struggle to have any energy for streaming. I can't keep up the hype and I feel like I am not doing anything by just being live. I want to have the freedom to do other things whenever I want, and I don't want to feel like I am being judged with every creative decision I make. A few decisions of mine revolving around how I built my audience is what lead me here, so while there's ways I can see myself coming back to Twitch, I just don't have the energy for it at the moment.

Discord

Discord was my biggest strategy to help grow my Twitch channel--and it worked fantastically. But now that I'm inactive on Twitch, I've decided to delegate the energy used on Discord for something else.

I don't expect myself to like, delete my Discord, but it's just something I am fine with being there primarily for announcements right now.

I'm focusing more on creating a smaller, more intimate community with Creeper County. This is what I've always wanted in building a community.

Patreon

I've made an announcement there already if you're interested in reading. The jist is that it isn't a reliable income source for me to dedicate that much time to it. It's just going to sorta stay as a donation platform for the time being. Not that that's bad (it's what most people tend to do), but I think it's still reasonable for me to make clear.

YouTube

I wouldn't say I'm too inactive here, I just don't upload as often. It's like, as opposed to once every 4-7 days, it's once every 7-10 days maybe now.

Big reason here is, of course the energy, but also I'm just exploring many different art forms right now. Had a dip in motivation with main channel animations and needed to figure out why. For the most part, I have figured out why, but there's still some direction I need to find.

Though you can look forward to a shrimp miku video coming soon.

Postmortem in Nuuspace

This isn't one I have really been inactive in, since I never promised an activity level. But still figured I can address that I am planning out a much larger story that will be based in this universe, which is why my current writing rhythm will be quite sporadic.

Not to say this will ever be finished, or published, or whatever (it might idk), but it's just what I am doing.

I know I didn't have to make this post, but it gives me some closure! I didn't want to leave anyone in the dark, and this way I know that I haven't (unless people don't read this, but that ain't on me).

In the future, I honestly expect that most of my energy will come down to video game development. It's like, all of these little things I am doing will just point towards one massive thing. And given my experience with Godot engine, making music, writing, 3d art, pixel art, animation... you see where this is going.

So, stay tuned.

[iftheshoef1tz]

Coda, part one

Note: This is for @azrisweek 2024, day 5: slice of life. it is an epilogue to the epilogue, if you will, of another, much longer work i just finished, what hath night to do with sleep. you don’t have to read that to read this, but…it would certainly explain things! no warnings, though there are mild spoilers. Thanks to @yanny-77 for beta reading this with such a quick turnaround.

From the air, the world is small. Manageable. Roads become long, twisting black ribbons; the trees and their sighing leaves turn into an unending green sea. The earth and all her problems – all her insistence on dust to dust, ash to ash – is far out of reach.

Azriel banks, and a strong gust tosses him sideways.

It’s far too late in the winter to be flying this high. He had learned the hard way during that first confusing winter that to fly in August is to be threatened with sudden and unexpected grounding when the pampero winds race over the mountains.

Six months have passed since they returned home from Germany. When he closes his eyes, he can see the slight, pale thing that is Nesta Archeron, glowing contentedly in his home on Irkalla.

It doesn’t soothe the ache that had chased him up here.

Humanity is still a tangled, nearly unfathomable thing to him. He’s far more used to Rolvaath’s lolling, sardonic tongue than to the lines around a human’s eyes when they smile. He will never be able to read emotions on these strange faces, with their body language that conceals more often than it reveals.

Except Eris.

The tilt of his head, the sweep of his hands, the heft and speed of his breathing – Azriel has spent the past four decades learning what they all mean. His effort makes Eris look at him like he’s some strange, wondrous thing, something worthy of the youthful skin and laughing eyes while everyone around him dims and dies.

Sometimes, Azriel can see that other Eris, the one he would have been had he never summoned a demon. It follows after him like a shadow, just slightly out of sync. He has neatly trimmed fingernails and pure white hair. There is a wicked light to his eyes despite a slight stoop.

Beneath Azriel, the earth grows large again, all her misery and tenderness opening their arms to him as he circles down through the air.

Eris glances up from their balcony. His hair whips into his eyes, but not before Azriel sees the way they light up when Eris sees him. That older Eris stands just off-center. Azriel wishes he could kiss them both.

He unfurls from his crow form and pushes his fingers into the wind-strewn mess of Eris’s hair. That little piece of Beron glitters angrily when Eris kisses him.

“I want to leave,” Eris says against his mouth. “I want to go home.”

Azriel kisses the skin just in front of Eris’s ear. “We are home.”

“You know what I mean.”

And he does – a place with Nesta and Elisabeth, rooted in memory. “Rolvaath won’t like it.”

Eris makes a disgusted noise. “He never likes anything I do. What’s one more thing? Besides, it’s much cheaper to call international than it used to be.”

Azriel knows he should stand up for his fellow demon, but a larger part of him is…proud, that’s what a human might call it. Rolvaath had never specified that Eris and Azriel had to remain in Paraguay, after all, simply that he collect stories from all the old Nazis before their souls were out of reach.

The wind picks up even more, and rain scatters across their skin. “Alright,” Azriel says and kisses Eris once more.

[mulletpermsicantlookaway]

The Jockification of Jeremy, Part 4: Chase Starts Changing

(For Parts 1-3 and the earlier stories on which this was based, see the earlier posts)

Chase and I ate lunch together again that day. He attacked his lunch with gusto, and he had seconds again. I’d never seen him eat so much, but when I commented on it, he said that he was always hungry after being sick. To me, he was already starting to look a little bigger, and taller, but I said nothing about that.

His voice wasn’t hoarse or squeaky any longer, but he was still clearing his throat a lot because he thought he sounded as if he had a cold. In reality, he didn’t sound sick at all. His voice was simply lower, but he hadn’t realized it yet. I thought it was cute and very sexy. He kept saying things like, “I still sound sick” and “I sound weird” in a husky baritone that did not go at all with his small frame. I was sure his voice would get lower and sexier still; he was nowhere near being a bro yet. The thought of the changes he was going to go through filled me with an almost unbearable anticipation. I was impatient for him to complete his transformation, and yet I wanted to savor every step along the way.

We didn’t see each other that evening. I had wrestling practice, but the next day was Friday, and I had a basketball game in the evening. Chase was going to come to the game to see me play, and then he was going to spend the night at my house.

After I’d showered and changed, I walked him home with me. Up in my room, I unzipped my duffel bag and took out my dirty clothes. “Here’s a little present for you, babe,” I said, holding out my jockstrap.

“Honestly, Jeremy. That is so nasty! Do you really expect me to wear that?”

“I just thought you might want some fresh essence of Jeremy. It’s the one I wore during the game. How’s the other one I gave you doing?”

“Oh yeah, I have that. I washed it. You’re right; they really do shrink up. I can wear it just fine now. It’s weird; even though it’s clean, I just keep imagining I can smell that jock smell. It just seems to stick with me all the time, even when I’m not wearing it. I even imagine I smell it right after I get out of the shower.”

I didn’t tell him that it really hadn’t shrunk at all; his package was noticeably starting to fill it out. “Why don’t we get our homework for the weekend done now, before it’s late, and then we can relax and have some fun.”

Chase agreed eagerly. He knew exactly what I wanted to do for fun.

After we’d finished, we played some video games, and we went to bed late. It was a weekend, after all. I got Chase to wear my game jock to bed. “It’s funny how it’s all warm and tingly when I get it from you. But are you sure you don’t want to throw this in the hamper? It’s a little, well, gamey. Kind of makes me feel a bit light-headed.”

“You’re just not used to jock smell the way I am, bro.”

“Sure, Jeremy,” he said. “It’s your room,” he yawned. “If you can put up with it, so can I.” He was getting sleepy. Soon we were both out.

The next morning, I woke up before he did and took a good look at him in the early morning light. He was starting to show signs of some muscle tone. His legs were noticeably hairier, his package much larger, especially his balls. His armpits were a jungle, and soft hairs were starting to grow up to his belly button and around his nipples. His Adam’s apple was bigger and sharper than ever, and his face was looking scruffy enough to benefit from a shave. I’d better talk to Coach Sanders again on Monday, I thought. If Chase was starting to change this rapidly, he might be ready to talk to the coach before the week was out.

After he was up and out of the shower, he said in deep, smooth, sexy rumble, “Dude, have you, like, got any mouthwash or anything like that? I don’t know what’s up with my voice, but maybe gargling will help.”

Gargling didn’t help, but I just kept telling him that he sounded fine to me, which he did. I loved his sexy new voice, but Chase kept thinking he sounded weird. He went home after lunch. As it happened, I had a wrestling meet in the afternoon, and, while we texted several times, I didn’t see him again until Monday.

On Monday when I met Chase for lunch, I was almost shocked at how quickly he was changing. His pants were noticeably tight and short on him, and his shirt was tight as well. A few of the bros were looking at us funny, some of them with knowing looks. James and Steve were obviously trying not to look, but Derek and Tyler were just as obviously staring. With all that, Chase seemed not to notice his ill-fitting clothes. He seemed mostly like himself, but he acted a little spacey, as if he was having trouble concentrating. I decided I’d better talk to Coach Sanders right away. I managed to catch him between classes. He agreed that he should try to talk to Chase either tomorrow or the next day. He also assured me he would make his own observations before the end of the school day.

I didn’t hear from Chase at all that night, which was a little worrying. But the next morning, he texted me right before school: “Can u walk me to skul? Feel strange.”

I rushed to his house as fast as I could. When I got there, he looked a bit taller than the day before, but what I really noticed was his face. He was less cute but way hotter, and my cock responded by springing to attention. But he looked sweaty and pale, and when he saw me, he said, “Oh, Jeremy, babe, I’m so glad to see you! Something’s, like, really wrong with me. I feel so weird!”

He sounded pitiful and sexy and lost at the same time, and I was heartbroken. I hadn’t wanted him to suffer like this, and I needed to make it right. I wanted desperately to hold him close, cuddle, and take his fears away, but if I really wanted to help him, I needed to get him to Coach Sanders as fast as I could.

“Oh, babe, I am so sorry you’re feeling like this! I can help you,” I said, “but do you think you can walk to school with me? I can get you help as soon as we get there.”

“Um,” he considered. “Yeah, fresh air. Fresh air should help. I can make it. I think. My shoes are tight. They’re so fucking tight. Why are my shoes tight?”

Encouraging him every few steps, I managed to get him to school without an incident, but the farther we walked, the less Chase seemed to know where he was or what he was doing. It was good he was still a pretty small dude, because toward the end I had to half lift and half drag him along. Fortunately, as we got to the edge of the campus, I saw my bro Derek standing with his girlfriend Becky, talking to Tyler and Brittney. Zach Davis was standing there, too.

“Yo, Derek, Tyler, Zach!” I said, “Hey, Becky, Brittney,” I nodded at the girls. “Bros, could you do me a solid? Could you help me get my bud to Coach Sanders’s office? He’s a little out of it right now. I’m sure Coach can help.”

Derek and Tyler exchanged a meaningful look, and Zach stared at Chase, considering, as if he’d never really seen him before. Derek took charge. “No worries, bro,” he said. “We’ll take care of him. Tyler, why don’t you see Brittney and Becky to class, and I’ll catch you later. Zach, could you run and find Coach Sanders and let him know we’d like to see him in his office right away.”

Whatever he may have been thinking, Zach took off immediately with long, loping strides like the running back he was. In a flash, he’d disappeared inside the building. Tyler had quickly put his bulky frame between the girls and Chase, and he seemed anxious to get Brittney and Becky away from the scene as soon as possible. As they moved toward the main entrance, Becky seemed to be trying to get a look at what was going on, although I’m not sure how much success she had trying to peek around a large, immovable object like Tyler.

Derek was an even larger immovable object. He put a huge, calloused hand firmly on Chase’s shoulder, stared him right in the face and said loudly, “Dude, little bro, let’s go for a little walk, eh? Not much farther.” Chase gave no indication that he heard, but he did as he was told. “Don’t worry, bro,” Derek said in a quiet aside to me, “I can pick him up and carry him if I have to.”

“You’re fucking awesome, Derek,” I said. “Thanks so much. I got him all the way here by myself, but I’m not as big as you are, and I’m almost worn out.”

“No worries, bro. He’s still a little dude. Not as little as he was last week, though. Maybe in a couple more months even I might have some trouble picking him up, you think?”

Stumbling between the two of us, we shuffled and half-carried him to the coach’s office. Coach Sanders was waiting for us.

“Chase, son,” he said pleasantly. “I’m so glad you came to see me. I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I think you’d better sit down on the couch until you feel a little better.” Chase looked at him blankly. He hadn’t said a word since we’d started for school, and he still gave no sign of knowing where he was or what was going on. Coach Sanders had us bring Chase through the locker room to the room with the old couch and the TV set. Then he brought Chase a small bottle of something that looked like a sports drink. “Son, I think you’re a bit dehydrated. Drink some of this.” Chase still said nothing, gazing at him with unfocused eyes, but when the coach put the bottle to his lips, he drank several swallows. After that, he seemed calmer. He looked more relaxed and less pale and sweaty. “I think you’d better sit here a bit longer until you’ve fully recovered. Don’t worry about your classes; I’ll take care of that.”  The coach continued, “Let me set up the TV for you. I have a video that I think you’ll enjoy.” He turned on the TV and queued up the video. Chase sat silent in the middle of the couch, eyes locked on the screen, his eyes now half closed.

“Derek, Jeremy,” the coach said more briskly, “Those clothes of his are too tight; he’s going to need room to breathe. Derek, could you grab a pair of shorts and a tank top from the spare practice uniforms, and Jeremy, get his pants and shirt off.”

Chase limply allowed me to take off his too-tight shoes, undo his pants and pull them off. Under his pants, he was wearing nothing but a very well-filled jockstrap, undoubtedly one of mine. Derek and I slid a pair of basketball shorts on over the jock. Removing his shirt was easier, and then we put the spare tank top on him. Coach Sanders put a headset on his ears and adjusted the audio, then he dimmed the lights.

“Is he going to be all right, Coach?” I asked in a whisper. “I’m really worried about him. He seems so out of it.”

“He’ll be fine, big guy, don’t worry! Derek, you can head to class now, but check in with me a little later, please. And thanks for your help, as always! Jeremy, plan to drop by right after school, and then you can take Chase with you to practice. He probably won’t remember much of what happened today.”

When Derek was gone, the coach added, “I’ll tell you a secret, Jeremy; Derek reacted just like Chase, and you can see how strong Derek is. Chase just started to change physically a bit faster than his mind could handle.”

It was easy for Coach Sanders to tell me not to worry, but he seemed completely calm and in control, so I tried to put my fears to rest. Again, though, I wondered what he was trying to tell me. Derek hadn’t always been a jock? That was hard to believe. Seriously, the guy was the dictionary definition of a stereotypical jock. If Derek hadn’t always been a jock, when had he changed, and what had he been like before? I mean, he was a super nice guy and an amazing football player, but even for a jock he seemed a little dense. What if Chase turned out dumb? I’d do anything for him, of course, including helping him with his homework, but how much help could I be? As Coach Sanders had pointed out weeks ago, I wasn’t the smartest guy in school. At best, I’d been a B- student before. My grades hadn’t really dropped any since my change, but school just seemed harder with all the practices and games on my schedule. I was keeping up, and I didn’t, you know, feel slow or anything, but classwork just seemed not to come easily anymore. Part of the problem, I had to admit, was that my only motivation for going to school was playing sports and hanging out with my bros. Maybe Chase was right; maybe I really was just a dumb jock now.

Whether I really was dumber or not, my classwork for that day was not going to help any of my grades; I might as well have skipped all my classes. All I could think about was Chase. The worst was my modern European history class. I had completely zoned out during the teacher’s lecture. Suddenly he flung a question at me, but I didn’t know it until some nerd, Ben something-or-other, I think, actually had to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Hey, wake up, you dumb jock, he’s asking you a question!”

It was humiliating. Of course, I had no idea what the question was, and I’m sure I sounded every bit as stupid as I felt. The whole class laughed. At least it woke me up and got me out of my funk for a bit, but I was so mad I could hardly see straight. I spent the rest of the class imagining what I was going to do to hurt that little shit Ben later, but by the time class ended, I decided he wasn’t worth the trouble. Ben wasn’t important; Chase was. Once we were out in the hall again, I glared at Ben and threw a fake punch that made him flinch, but it didn’t make me feel any better.

I could hear one of his little nerd friends, Devin, I think, saying something like, “Geez, Ben, don’t rattle the jocks’ cages. You’re just asking for it. Seriously,” he continued in a kind of stage whisper, “you don’t want to be next on their list.” Ben asked what the fuck he was talking about, and Devin said in the same whisper, “Not here, Ben, just drop it. I’ll tell you later.” And then to me he said in a more normal voice, “Ben’s really sorry, uh, Jeremy. He didn’t mean it. No need to get him in trouble.” And he hustled Ben down the hallway.

I yelled after them, “Next time it’ll be your face, nerd!”

By lunchtime, I was feeling about as low as I could remember ever feeling. There was no sign of Chase, but I didn’t expect him, of course. I sat with some of the other bros, but I just stared at my food and didn’t say much. I kept imagining people were talking about me and Chase behind my back, even though I thought only Derek and maybe Zach really knew what was going on. I didn’t see either one of them anywhere in the lunchroom. But right when lunch was ending, Derek suddenly appeared. He came up to me and said, “Look, bro, stop worrying about Chase. Coach is taking care of him. He’ll be fine. You’ll see him at practice. Trust me, bro. And Becky told me about what happened to you in your history class. Don’t worry; I talked to Coach about that, too. Your bros’ll always have your back.”

I knew Derek was trying to help, and I really appreciated it, but it was hard to be okay with Chase suffering because of me. I felt worse and worse as the afternoon dragged on. Zach reappeared later in the afternoon. He came up to me in the hall between periods and said, “Bro, cheer up, okay? Seriously, your boyfriend’s really cute, and he’ll only be getting cuter. Stop moping, dude!”

I finally reminded myself that the important thing was whether Chase was happy. I hoped he would be, but I wouldn’t find out until after school. I tried to psych myself up for how hot Chase would be once he was fully a jock, and how great it was going to be to share the same interests again the way we did before. But when the last bell rang, my heart sank. Making my way slowly down to the locker room, I wasn’t looking forward to practice at all this time. I felt as if I were going to the gallows for my own execution.

To be continued

[reds-skull]

Revenant Side Stories

Story III: Gaz

[Konchar] [Graves] [AO3]

I worked on both this and that Ghost painting I posted earlier in the time I was away from this blog, and I apparently had enough motivation to finish both today haha

If you remember the conversation Gaz and Soap had on the helo in chapter 14 of Not Alive, Nor Dead (the one where they were talking about the worst time they've used their powers), then the events in this story might be familiar...

I enjoyed writing this so much, I absolutely love Gaz (and more specifically rev AU's version of him <3)

Alright enough yapping time for pain

Kyle should be used to the feeling of free-falling. To the air rushing past his ears, to the sting in his eyes as the ground approaches him rapidly. The pull that catches him not a moment too soon, invisible ribbons wrapping him in their safe embrace.

It was perhaps a little naive of him to think gravity will never betray him again.

The whistling wind is what wakes him first, that familiar tune Gaz made his own in the past year. Familiar, but out of place - wasn’t he just running after the HVT…?

Kyle opens his eyes.

The sky warps around him, skyscrapers higher than the heavens towering over him like giants, silhouettes in the night. His body twists uncontrollably, and his view shifts to the ground, people nothing but ants, growing larger and larger-

The sinking feeling in his gut screams one thing, and one thing only.

You’re going to die again.

Several hours earlier

“Sergeant Garrick!” someone calls from behind him. Gaz turns, expecting to have to search for the source in the pre-mission rush of soldiers. He instead instantly zeroed in on a frankly giant man. To his credit, he wasn’t expecting a soldier clad in all black tactical gear, and a stark white skull mask.

Well, only one guy in the SAS that fits this description, “Lieutenant Ghost, sir.” Gaz’s head tilts up to look at the eyes behind the mask.

He’s heard a lot about the legendary revenant, and while most are probably the works of the rumor mill working overtime, just the presence of Ghost emanates a sort of unrivalled power that raises the hairs at Kyle’s nape.

It’s unlikely any of them will see the Lieutenant in action today; he’s here to fill in for Captain Price in overwatch, but he can’t help but have a sort of morbid curiosity, a craving to know if the revenant lives up to the myth.

Ghost motions with his head for him to follow, and begins walking towards the tents that have been set up as their temporary base of operations, “Captain told me you can fly.” he begins.

Gaz smiles nervously, “uh, not exactly. I got gravity manipulation.” they enter the tent, the flurry of activity as disorienting as it is outside, with squad leaders confirming last-minute details about the mission. “Can use it on others as well, but I have to be in direct skin contact.”

“Won’t need it in this op either way,” Ghost rumbles, a somewhat bitter note in his words. A few men do a double take at the two of them, and Gaz suppresses an eye roll.

Being a revenant turned out… different than he thought it would be. Sure, he knew they had superpowers and the ability to converse with extradimensional beings, but he wasn’t ready for the staring.

He knows he’s not human anymore, that he lost a fundamental part of himself the moment he left that helo crash alive, but he doesn’t need to be reminded at any turn.

Perhaps Ghost is onto something with the mask. At least he can roll his eyes all he wants.

Ghost addresses the soldiers in the tent, everyone snapping into attention, “Sergeant Garrick will lead the infil team. Target is at the suite of the Amandi Hotel, possibly guarded and armed.” the Lieutenant scrutinizes them, “I’ll be on overwatch on the comms tower north of the hotel. Helo circles the sky in case we need to extract from the roof.”

He crosses his arms, the perfect image of authority, “any questions?”

“No, sir!” the soldiers in the tent echo.

“Good. Garrick’s team is up in 5.” Ghost’s attention turns to him, “you’ll treat the Sergeant like any other soldier - his powers are irrelevant here.”

Gaz’s eyes widen as the rest of his squad gives Ghost the affirmative. The Lieutenant leaves the tent, ordering the others, and he shakes away from his stupor. A surprisingly warm feeling spreads through his chest.

No time to wonder about Ghost’s intentions, they have a man to catch.

It takes only ten minutes for the mission to go completely off rails.

Ghost wasn’t lying when he said his powers are irrelevant here. With the narrow hallways of the hotel, and lack of loose, heavy objects around ready to be thrown, Gaz is as good as any of his human squad mates.

He grits his teeth, popping out of cover to shoot yet another henchman down. The HVT must be bloody loaded to afford this much manpower.

“Be advised Bravo 6-1, enemy reinforcements approaching your position. I don’t have a clear shot on them.” Ghost’s low voice sounds from his comms.

Gaz returns to cover when a bullet grazes his cheek, and he answers between a hiss of pain, “copy, attempting to advance to the suite now.”

“Stevenson, Ellis, take the left hallway, the rest with me!” Kyle orders the corporals. He’s betting on the fact the henchmen will be too preoccupied with their assault to notice the two soldiers flanking them.

Gaz and his team goes on the offensive, unnerved by the bullets ricocheting around them. A few fast heartbeats later, the hostiles go down with gasps of surprise. He allows himself a moment of celebration, before pushing onwards.

This is another thing he had to learn in his new second life. Turns out, the brass promotes revenants faster than other soldiers, and soon after his Reaping he was promoted to Sergeant. He will probably never forget the nasty looks he got from his old mates after that, people he thought were his friends. Sometimes Kyle wanted to scream that he didn’t ask for this, he didn’t ask to be the only one left alive.

Usually following that thought is a reminder that he very much did. He asked to live. 

Gaz knew what he was wishing for.

Stevenson and Ellis join them, and he makes sure to order most of the squad to watch their six, Ghost’s warning still fresh in his mind.

“Lieutenant, got sights on the HVT?” Gaz radios in.

The comms crackle before he gets an answer, “negative, he went to the back two minutes ago, likely holing up in the bathroom.” he can hear the faint sound of wind through his mic, “stay sharp, this might be a trap.”

“Understood, sir.” 

Gaz holds a fist up to signal the squad to stop, and attempts to listen for any movements inside the suite. Price’s mind reading abilities would’ve been nice to have around right about now…

He lets out a shaky breath. Going in blind never gets less nerve wracking, “Smith, Farage, keep watch on the hallways, Ellis, Stevenson and Wright, prepare for breach in three…”

The soldiers move to their positions, and the moment his count reaches zero, Gaz kicks the door down and begins clearing the room. Every dark corner becomes a potential hiding spot for hostiles, every flickering shadow catches his attention.

The main area of the suite is an open floor plan room, floor-to-ceiling windows making up the whole front part. The city lights twinkle through the clear glass, unaware of the danger that dwells above them.

“Main room clear, moving to the bathroom.” Gaz relays to Ghost and the rest. He lowers his rifle and reaches for the handle. The door creaks ominously when he shoves it open, revealing a dark and completely empty space. He clears it in a few seconds, all the while his confusion grows.

“Ghost” he clicks his comms on, “the HVT isn’t here.”

The Lieutenant is silent for a brief moment, “He didn’t leave the suite, Garrick. Keep searching the other rooms.” Gaz opens his mouth to give the affirmative, when he hears Wright and Stevenson give the clear for the two bedrooms. A twisting feeling in his gut grows.

“Sir, I think we’re missing something-”

Loud bangs echo from the main bedroom, Gaz instantly exiting the bathroom to watch Stevenson go down, “fuck!”

Hostiles stream out of the room in an endless swarm, the rest of his squad taking cover around the suite. “Garrick! What the fuck is going on there?!”

“Stevenson missed a bloody secret room, sir!” Gaz grunts, shooting two men down. From the corner of his eye, he sees Wright push forward, so he joins him.

A shattering sound alerts him to Ghost’s shots, “do you have eyes on the target?!” the Lieutenant’s voice echoes through comms. Another shot rings out, and a body drops to his right.

“Negative!” he answers. Smith and Farage are fighting further out, enemies forcing them back to the hallway, Stevenson motionless on the ground. Wright snarls beside him, his left arm bleeding from a graze. Ellis…

“Sergeant! Behind you!” Ghost shouts. Gaz whips around, to watch the HVT drag himself to the broken windows.

Himself, and the unconscious body of Ellis. Gaz charges forward before the HVT locks eyes with him, a manic sort of fury burning within them.

The bastard smiles at him, blood staining his bright white teeth. He heaves Ellis, dragging him right to the edge.

“You take one more step, and I drop your friend.” the target drawls. 

Kyle stops, raising his arms in surrender, mind rapidly trying to pinpoint the location of each hostile and soldier left in the room. If he could be sure his squad will be able to apprehend the HVT by themselves, he could be free to follow Ellis, and catch him before they both hit the ground.

“Alright.” Gaz swallows thickly, keeping his voice as calm as he can, “we’ll give you what you want, just let him go.”

The target’s smile widens, “tell your soldiers to drop their weapons” he shakes Ellis, Gaz’s heart jumping to his throat. He nods, slowly lowering a hand to his radio.

“All stations, hold fire, we’ve got a hostage.”

The commotion behind him stops abruptly, his soldiers murmuring in confusion but listening to him all the same. Gaz scans the HVT for weapons - a pistol at his right hip, a knife strapped to the other. As long as he doesn’t use those on Ellis, he still has a chance to save him.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here.” Ghost warns, “I don’t have a clear shot, don’t doom the entire squad to save one man.”

His jaw tightens in response. He’s not going to allow any more of them to die today.

“Good” the target’s voice drips with satisfaction, “at least one of you soldier boys has more than half a brain. Now… I have other matters to attend to, so if you will leave the premises peacefully, that would be helpful.”

“Not without him.” Gaz motions to Ellis.

The HVT tsks, “do I look stupid? I know you’ll shoot my men down the moment I let him go.” his head tilts mockingly, “no, he’s coming with me.”

“Garrick…” Ghost growls. “Ellis’ chances are low. Get the HVT secure and get out.” This is taking too long.

“I prefer to have… insurance.” the target continues.

Gaz’s lips pull back in disgust, “for a cornered man, you’re asking for a lot, mate.”

“Am I cornered, though?”

The telltale click of a trigger shoots adrenaline down Kyle’s limbs, and he moves out of the bullet’s way a second before it reaches him. He grunts as he grasps at the attacker’s rifle over his shoulder, twisting it around his torso to disarm the man.

Lieutenant Ghost’s voice booms through comms, “Bravo, get your guns up! More hostiles are entering your floor!!!”

Gaz barely avoids a fist coming from his left, ducking and dodging a knee to his guts. Gunshots echo behind him, grunts and growls and screams of pain almost deafening.

Two hostiles manage to get a hold of him, and over their massive shoulders Kyle watches in horror as the target pulls Ellis up over the window’s edge, and lets go.

“Corporal Ellis is falling, I repeat, the Corporal is falling!” Ghost yells. Gaz’s heart hammers away at his chest, his breaths becoming shorter and heavier.

Through the cacophony of combat, anger and agony, one voice stands out from the rest.

The HVT’s mirthful laugh, high and grating as he watches Ellis fall down, down, down-

Gaz screams, grabbing the arms around him, and reverting gravity on all three of them. He lowers his head, avoiding the ceiling. His attackers, however, are taken by surprise, and hit their head against the concrete with a sickening thunk.

The laughter ceases, but he pays it no mind. If Gaz jumps off now, he could strengthen the effect of gravity on himself, and fall faster, reach Ellis before the ground does-

A sniper shot splices the air beside him, the bullet hitting the floor, Ghost’s voice loud when he calls out, “Gaz-!”, Kyle turning around to find the stock of a rifle approaching his face, his foot slips, and-

His vision goes dark.

He’s going to die. The wind beats at his body, howling and shrieking and stealing the air from his lungs. He’s going to die. The city lights smear and create blinding trails at his periphery.

He’s going to die.

Kyle locks onto a dark shape, several feet below him, and the fog of panic clears for long enough for him to remember why he’s falling.

Ellis. He fell before him. He’s going to die.

But Gaz won’t. His powers rush forth, otherworldly ribbons wrapping around his fingertips at his command. Instead of hanging from the sky, he orders them down.

They’re about 100 feet from the harsh asphalt roads when he starts descending at an inhuman speed, eyes watering and muscles trembling from the lack of oxygen, but it doesn’t matter, not until he touches Ellis, not until he pulls him back from certain death.

50 feet. 40. 30. 20. 10-

Kyle barely manages to brush a finger on Ellis’ tacvest before he pulls back, his face mere inches from the ground. His eyes are closed, his mouth gaping as he takes in air for the first time in minutes.

He heard the crunch. He knows his ribbons didn’t wrap around Ellis. Yet, there’s a little naive voice in his mind, holding onto hope that the Corporal has been saved.

The screams of the ground team tell him otherwise.

Kyle releases his powers, his body dropping. Voices echo around him, words unintelligible through the rushing blood in his ears.

Ellis is dead. He doesn’t want to open his eyes. You failed again, he screams at himself in the recesses of his mind.

Kyle chokes on a sob, only then registering the tears flowing down his cheeks. He curls further into himself. Selfishly, he doesn’t want the others to see his pathetic crying. Not only did he fail, he’s also weak.

Someone touches his shoulder, and he freezes. His eyes are glued to the dark grey of the road below him, its rough texture digging into his trembling palms. The voices stray closer, words still incomprehensible but concern clear, and yet he refuses to lift his head.

He doesn’t want to see Ellis. He knows what gravity does to a person, how it tugs at their limbs until they break, how bones stab at soft flesh, how muscles are ripped apart like a rag doll’s stitches. He knows, saw five different bodies, all twisted beyond recognition, by the very power he controls. The memory makes bile rise to his mouth, acrid taste spreading on his tongue. The sight of mangled soldiers, the smell of burning fuel, the whistle of an RPG.

If only he was strong enough to truly control it.

The hands tug at him more forcibly now, attempting to roll him over, but Kyle resists. His mouth tries to form words, but only whines and muted sobs stream from his clenched teeth.

‘Leave me alone’, he wants to whisper. ‘I already know I failed’.

A deeper voice rumbles above him, and the hands stop and leave. Kyle hears the rustling of fabric before the voice begins calling his name.

“-arrick. Sergeant. We need to know if you’re broken.”

He shakes his head, shoulders shuddering along his sobs.

“You’re not injured? Good.” the voice answers calmly, as if they’re not sitting beside a dead body, blood pooling, bones sticking out of place-

“Stay with me, soldier. Focus on me.” the voice orders, and Kyle knows, somewhere in his fractured mind, that he needs to listen.

He risks lifting his gaze a little towards the voice, a knee clad in dark pants coming into view, “you’re safe, Gaz. Take all the time you need to collect yourself. The others won’t bother you now.”

He nods minutely, wanting to show his gratitude to the voice, but refusing to lift his head any higher.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, and Kyle tries to keep his focus on the person in front of him, but his brain continues to pull at his thoughts, get them to drift to Ellis, his cooling body dead not 3 feet from them-

“You know why blind people don’t like going skydiving?”

Kyle blinks down at his hands. What…?

“‘Cause it scares the shit outta their dogs.”

…That’s the dumbest joke he’s ever heard. What’s dumber, that it’s actually making him huff in amusement.

“That deserves at least a little laugh.” the voice sulks, the deadpan quality of it making their words funnier to Kyle.

He clears his throat before saying, “all that deserves is a groan of disappointment, Lieutenant.”

His head lifts to look at Ghost’s dark eyes behind his skull mask, “you wound my poor feeble heart, Garrick.”

A wobbly smile spreads on his lips, before he slowly looks away from the Lieutenant at the scene around them.

They must’ve already moved the body, leaving dark red blood seeping into the cracks in the road as the only sign anything went wrong. Some combat medics have stayed behind, but from the look on their face Kyle can tell they’re too afraid of Ghost to get any closer.

He casts a questioning look at the Lieutenant, who sighs, “they shouldn’t toss you around while you’re in shock.”

Kyle frowns, “they didn’t ‘toss me around’, but… thanks.”

Ghost simply hums.

It takes him a few more seconds to gather the courage to ask, “the mission… did it fail?”

Did I make us fail?

Ghost regards him with narrowed eyes, “HVT has been secured and is in transport awaiting questioning.”

He lets out a small sigh of relief, nodding.

The Lieutenant stares at him, “you did everything you could, Gaz.” he opens his mouth to disagree, but Ghost lifts a hand, “no. Ellis was dead the moment he was captured. If I was in your position, I wouldn’t have risked the mission, the team, myself to try and save him against the odds.”

Kyle sputters, “but- I didn’t save him.”

“But you tried.”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s dead!”

Ghost’s tone lowers dangerously, “it may not matter to Ellis, but to the rest of your squad? His teammates? They know you tried, and they will remember in the future that Sergeant Garrick will endanger his own life for his subordinates.”

Kyle’s eyes widen, Ghost’s voice gaining a somber tone, “you haven’t had a lot of experience in leading.” he half-states, half-asks, so Kyle shakes his head.

“The trust your men have in you is fragile, and invaluable. Today, you’ve gained something many others can’t. You have respect, the kind that is hard-earned in battle.” His eyes look away, lost in memories Kyle will probably never be privy to, “that’s why it matters.”

He thinks back to the way everyone approaches Ghost, fear and awe in their eyes, “are you talking from experience?”

Ghost’s eyes refocus on him, “my soldiers respect me because I’m powerful. They respect me out of terror, not trust.”

“Respect is respect, no?”

“None of them would risk their lives to save mine, if it came to it.” Ghost rises to his feet, “respect born of fear is weak compared to respect born from admiration.”

A gloved hand, adorned with skeletal markings, is offered to him. Kyle takes it, allowing Ghost to pull him up to his own shaky legs.

Gaz takes a good look at the grotesque mask, at the appearance that signals danger and unmatched strength. 

And at the hand in his, grip powerful enough that he doesn’t have any doubt it will catch him if he falls.

“I trust you, Lieutenant.”

Ghost freezes, before he begins walking towards the parked vehicles, “your mistake, Sergeant.”

Gaz follows, believing wholeheartedly in his words.

“I’m planning on building a task force.” Price begins the moment Gaz settles into the office chair in front of him, “a revenant-only task force.”

“And you’re inviting me?” he exclaims in disbelief.

“Don’t sound so surprised, Kyle, we both know your powers are extremely rare.”

Still, to be chosen by the Captain Price out of everyone…

“You’re giving me too much credit, son.” Price’s moustache twitches up with a hidden smirk, “I’ll take it as a yes?”

Gaz nods resolutely, “yes, sir!”

“That’s what I want to hear. Any questions?”

The words “no, sir” are ready on his tongue, but he retracts them to instead ask, “are there any other members yet?”

Price scans him for a moment, before he pulls out a folder, “you remember Ghost, I presume?”

He can see how Price clocks in the excitement in his mind, “of course.”

A warm smile crinkles Price’s blue eyes. He rises, offering Gaz a hand to shake. Gaz takes it.

“Welcome to Taskforce 141, Kyle.”

[sunshine-overload]

[BSTS] Qu Alt Stage 4* Card Story

chapter 1 -starless hallway-

saki: Oh, Qu-san, that outfit…

qu: Pretty, isn’t it? It’s my Valentine’s Day costume from a few years ago. I was reorganising our outfits and couldn’t help but want to try it on again. I feel as though costumes with such vibrant colours like this one are unique to our seasonal performances.

saki: Now that you mention it, that’s true. I think it really suits you, Qu-san.

qu: Thanks, I’m happy to hear you think so. I kind of want to pull out a couple more to wear now.

-time pass, break room-

saki: Ah, you changed costumes, Qu-san.

qu: Yes, this one is from our ‘Daydream’ performance. It’s a pretty recent costume, it’s quite unique, isn’t it?

-time pass, starless office-

saki: Oh, another lovely costume!

qu: This one’s from ‘Red White’. Its colours really have that New Year’s vibe. There’s still so many more costumes too, I’m honestly surprised at how many we’ve accumulated over the years. I also found one that’s very nostalgic, I’ll be wearing it next.

saki: Uwah, I’ll be looking forward to it!

qu: Fufu, then meet me in the rehearsal room later.

-time pass, saki peeking into rehearsal room-

saki: Qu-san? Am I here too early…?

qu: No, you’re just on time.

-saki steps into rehearsal room-

qu: It’s my stage costume from when I used to be on Team P. Fufu, it really is nostalgic wearing it again.

saki: It stands out in a different way compared to your Team C outfit.

qu: What do you think? Does it still suit me now, I wonder?

saki: Yes, perfectly! You look great.

qu: I’m happy to hear it gets your seal of approval. In that case how about I greet the guests wearing this today?

saki: Huh? In your P costume?

qu: Fufu, I’m only joking. It might cause problems for Team P. If I were to walk out wearing a different team’s costume without announcing it beforehand I’m sure it’d shock the guests.

saki: Then, it’s only something I’ll get to see now hm? Thank you for showing me. It kind of makes me want to see you perform with Team P again one day.

qu: Yeah, maybe someday. Since five years have passed I feel as though I could show you a new and improved version of myself compared to back then.

-

chapter 2 -shopping centre-

saki: Oh? Is that you, Qu-san?

qu: Saki? What a surprise it is to run into you here. It’s a happy coincidence though, would you happen to be free right now? I’d love to chat with you whilst I shop.

-time pass, different part of the shopping centre-

qu: I think I’ve bought a pretty good haul. I wanted to try buying some eyeshadow colours that I don’t usually wear. I’m thinking of pairing it with my stage outfit. I’d like for you to see the finished look and get your opinion, is that ok?

saki: Yes, of course. There are mirrors all over the rehearsal room so you’ll be able to see it well too.

qu: Oh right— Here, take this.

saki: Ah, would you like me to carry that for you? You can give me the larger bag if you want.

qu: Oh no, that’s not what I meant, I’d never make you carry my bags for me. Inside this paper bag is a present for you. I thought it would look nice on you, it’s that new lipstick from the brand we were looking at before. It’s one of their limited seasonal shades, think of it as a thank you gift for coming shopping with me.

saki: Wha, are you sure?

qu: Of course. I’d love for you to use it. It’s a colour that should be easy to pair with everyday outfits too.

-time skip, rehearsal room-

qu: Sorry for the wait, Saki. Ah, just let me put on my fishnets.

-cg

qu: I was so fixated on the new makeup I bought that I almost forgot to put my stockings on. I usually wear gold eyeshadow, but I tried some warmer red hues for this look. What do you think?

saki: It has a different kind of impact compared to your usual makeup. I think that it suits you just as well. The red hues make it very eye catching.

qu: Red is known to be a seductive colour. I wanted to try entice you with it.

saki: Huh!?

qu: Fufu, I actually ended up liking this colour combination more than I expected. It brings the whole ensemble together.

-cg gone

qu: I wanted to try some more looks but— In the end I think I should keep up my usual look on the stage. It’s what highlights my face best.

saki: I see, is that so? You sure do consider a lot of things before making a decision. Stage makeup is pretty complex.

qu: Whether I change it up or not depends on the vibe of the show.

saki: Fufu, I’ll be looking forward to seeing what new things you come up with.

qu: Thanks. C’mon, it’s your turn now. Do you have the lipstick I bought with you? I’ll apply it for you. Here, part your lips slightly and raise your chin for me, ok?

saki: Like this—?

qu: —Yep, there we go, it looks great. Take a look in the mirror.

saki: …Wow, it’s so different to what I usually wear. So this is what the shade looks like applied, hm?

qu: You look super cute, Saki. And it’s not just because of the lipstick I chose.

—end