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#Not that i have many people to visit as an adult... But one friend suggested an sleepover and im like yea sounds fun

helen-with-an-a · 2 months

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I am an adult pt 4

Hi. So this is pt 4 of the I am an adult. I really liked writing it and hope you enjoy it too. I definitely want to do a 5th part but I'm not sure about how many more after that I will do (if you get what I mean). Also, all of the German and Spanish is from google/google translate so if it's wrong, I apologise

Barca Femeni x Reader ; Lena Oberdorf x Reader

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6

Description: Lena gets the talk

Word Count: 4.1k

TW: Slight smut (undescribed/suggestive rather than outright)

You weren’t used to waiting at airports for people. Usually, you were the one who was walking off the plane to visit friends and family. But you couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling up – just thinking about who would be walking through the door made you smile. You didn’t quite know the protocol for meeting your long-distance girlfriend off a flight. You were nervous about it – wanting to do it right. You may have gotten into a bit of a TikTok wormhole over couples reuniting; most people went with flowers and a sign, but you were staying in an unfamiliar city for both of you, and you did have a match to play. It was something you agonised over for days before the arrival. Having consulted an unhelpful Ona, a laughing Patri and an amused Jana, you settled on asking Alexia. That was an adult thing to talk about, right?

“Um … Ale, can I … can I ask you something?” You said as you curled up on her sofa.

“Of course, pequeña. Esta todo bien?”

“Yeh, um … it’s about Lena, actually” That might have been a bad way to phrase it. Alexia’s face dropped, her gaze becoming a little icy.

“Que hizo ella?” Her voice was just as cold.

“Nothing, nothing, prometo.” You reassured her. “I wanted to ask you what to get her for the airport,” you explained quietly, a little apprehensive over her response.

“Oh, cariño.” Alexia cooed, pulling her legs up to tuck underneath her as she twisted to face you, her hand reaching along the back of the sofa to pick at the corner of the cushion. “Honestly, I don’t think she’d be expecting anything. I certainly wouldn’t if Olga and I met somewhere in the middle.” Her look softened even more as you nodded furiously, eyes locked on her patterned carpet. She could see you sag ever so slightly – clearly, you wanted to get Lena something. “I think, if you really want to get her something,” she continued, smiling as you perked up at her response. “You could do something small – like a … ugh, what’s the word …” She was so fluent in English you often forgot that it was technically her third language. “It’s small and fluffy; you give it to niñas,” she clicked frantically, clearly trying hard to remember. “Un oso de peluche,” she sighed, wracking her brain to remember the English word.

“A teddy bear?” You asked, helping her out slightly.

“Sí, sí, a teddy bear. You could get her one of those? It would be small enough for her to pack away when she travels, and it is something she can keep with her when she’s back in Germany.” You smiled at her suggestion – nodding happily at her words.

The day was finally here. You were finally seeing Lena again. Madrid airport was a little struggle to navigate but you stood, buzzing with excitement, as you waited at arrivals. You looked down at the goodies you had with you – a little bag filled with a very cute and very fluffy teddy bear, some Spanish sweets, and an iced coffee in your hand. You had also packed a few extra jumpers to sneak into Lena’s bag before she left.

L💚: Just got through passport control and stuff

L💚: I’ll be maybe 5/10 more mins

[Initial] ❤️💙: eeeeeeeeeeeeee

[Initial] ❤️💙: ok – I’m like right by the exit

[Initial] ❤️💙: turn left when u walk through it and im by the pillar post thingy

5 to 10 more minutes … you could do that. With every passing minute, your excitement and anticipation grew. It had been a long few months without Lena by your side. Yes, you texted every day; Yes, you Facetimed 5 times a week minimum; but seeing her in person, being able to hug her and hold her and kiss her and smell her and touch her and … you couldn’t be more excited.

“Hola, mi amor.” Very poorly pronounced Spanish whispered to you as strong, familiar arms wrapped around your waist.

“Lena,” you squealed, clearly having missed her walk up – far too much in your own head.

“mmmm, ich habe dich vermisst,” she sighed happily as you twisted in her grip to hug her tightly. She was warm and soft and smelt of cinnamon.

“I’ve mis- no, wait,” you cut yourself off. She tilted her head to the side, drawing back to look at you. “Ich habe dich auch so sehr vermisst,” you stumbled slightly but the big, wide grin on Lena’s face told you, you had said it right.

“Can I kiss you, Schatz?” she asked gently. You blinked slightly, not expecting her to ask you that in such a public space. “I, we, don’t have to. It’s just it’s been so long, and,” she rushed to get out, hating the fact that she had made you even the smallest bit uncomfortable.

“Liebe,” you cut her off, waiting until she looked at you before you continued. When her warm chocolate eyes met yours, you struggled not to float away in them. “Please, kiss me.” You smiled as she let out a breath of relief. You met halfway, and it was just as perfect as all the other kisses you two had shared, if not more so after such a long time apart.

“As …” she cleared her throat as she pulled away slightly. “As much as I want to continue. We should get going … but later, ich verspreche.” She vowed and picked her bag up off the floor. And extending her hand for you to take.

“No, wait, gimme that.” You gestured for her bag, forcing it from her when she hesitated to hand it over. “Also, these are for you,” you said with a proud smile, giving her the now slightly watery coffee and bag of goodies.

“Schatz, you shouldn’t have.” She began, but you shook your head, denying her the chance to complain. You stuck your tongue out at her, intertwined your fingers and pulled her towards the exit.

Taking the metro back to your hotel reminded you a lot of your first date. Lena looking slightly puzzled over the Spanish being spoken all around you. On your first date, you had shyly stood next to her, closer than two friends would be not enough to make her feel uncomfortable, and quietly translated a bit of the conversation between two girls nearby; you added the voices to differentiate between the two girls and jokingly copied any actions they did. This time, you let her lean against you, one arm sneaking around her waist to fiddle with the belt loops on her jeans and the other holding tightly onto the handrail. Her head dropped into your neck, muttering something in German.

“What was that, Liebe?” You asked softly, mindful that your mouth was quite close to her ear despite the busy train.

“Müde,” she said again into your neck. It took you a minute to sift through the German in your head. You pouted when you finally understood what she was saying. She was tired. That you could understand, travelling was difficult when you understood the language, let alone one where you landed in a country where the language was entirely different and almost no familiarity to yours. You pressed a chaste kiss to her hairline, hoping to comfort her a little.

“Naw,” you cooed. "It’s okay. We’re almost back to the hotel. We can have a nap if you want,” you pressed another kiss to her head. "But Alexia says she has to see you at some point tonight,” you reminded her.

“Forgot ‘bout Alexia,” she whined tiredly, her grip tightening on you.

“I’m sorry, Liebe. I promise she won’t be too harsh or scary. I know she can come off a bit..." you struggled for the right word. “Intense? But I promise she’s really sweet.”

You finally made it to your stop, and you filtered off the train, fingers laced together so neither of you got lost (mainly Lena, as she didn’t know a lick of Spanish). Just as you were walking up the steps outside, a flustered woman appeared next to you.

“Lamento mucho molestarte. Pero estoy intentando llegar al aeropuerto y tienes una maleta. Sabes cómo conseguirlos?” The flurry of Spanish through you off for a second as you had been conversing in English almost all day.

“No, no te preocupes en absoluto. Um, sólo necesitas …” As you explained the directions to the woman, Lena couldn’t help but watch in awe. She knew you could speak Spanish – you lived in Spain, you played for Barcelona, and she’d seen you talking in Spanish on the football pitch. Hell, the first time she had met you, you were finishing a conversation in Spanish with the film and media crews. It had done something to her then, and it was doing something to her now, too. She couldn’t understand a word of what you were saying, but the accent, the rapid words, the hand gestures, your kind smile … she suddenly wasn’t as tired as she felt on the train.

“Sorry, Liebe,” you said as you finished, waving to the woman as she sped down the steps towards the platform. She was asking about getting to the airport—she had seen your bag and guessed we had just come from there.” You explained, taking her (now slightly clammy) hand and leading her towards your hotel.

The hotel room was big and welcoming, a large bed in the centre with your things thrown haphazardly across it called to Lena as she walked through the door. She left her stuff by the wall and flopped heavily down, sighing at the softness that surrounded her. You looked at her from your vantage point by the door. Her top had ridden up, exposing her abs slightly, her biceps were on full display, and the veins in her arms rippled slightly as she twisted her fingers in the bedding underneath her. She was doing things to you – maybe it was because you hadn’t had sex a good few months (it was currently the longest you had ever gone without since you started having sex); maybe it was because she looked so at home amongst your things; perhaps it was the fact that your girlfriend was finally within touching distance. You also realised you didn’t quite care enough to figure it out.

“Incoming,” you yelled as you launched yourself at her.

“Oof,” she huffed, her breath leaving her body as your weight settled on top of her, both of you laughing quietly at your behaviour.

“Hi,” you smiled at her, arms either side of her head, legs straddling her hips.

“Hi,” she smiled back, lift her hands to stroke her thumbs across your exposed skin.

“I…” should you say it? “I’ve missed you,” you chicken out from what you really wanted to say. You knew you told her at the airport that you missed her, but you needed her to know just how much her absence affected you.

“I’m sorry.” She knew the distance was difficult for both of you. You shook your head, refusing to let her think that this was her fault.

“No, there’s nothing that can be done at the moment. I’m at Barca; you’re at Wolfsburg. It is what it is.” You shrugged, hoping it would ease her sadness a little. “But … you’re here now, we have this weekend. And that is all that matters.” You smiled, the wide, soft smile full of love and tenderness that only Lena got to see often. You felt rather than saw Lena crane her neck up to try to kiss you; your smile shifted into a cheeky grin as you pulled back just out of her reach. She stopped looking at you offendedly.

“Nuh, uh, uh,” you teased, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “I...” You kiss her forehead. This was your chance. “Missed.” You kissed her cheek, backing out again. “You.” You kissed her other cheek.

“And I’ve missed you, Schatz.” Her hands left your waist, coming up to cradle your face, holding to exactly where she wanted. She waited a few moments, letting her eyes scan your face, trying to commit everything to memory (even though she had already done that well before you left Germany at New Year’s). “So much,” she whispered as she finally tugged you down to meet her lips.

The kiss started out slow, sweet and tender, as your love was poured into it. As you parted, her darkened eyes roamed your body, one hand cementing itself in your hair, tugging lightly as the other moved to trace along the waistband of your shorts. Your kisses weren’t a battle for dominance, but you were falling into a pattern of give and take that was uniquely yours. Your top was the first to come off, hers following not too long afterwards. Buttons were undone, drawstrings loosened and more clothing adding to the mess on the floor. Her hands grasped at any available flesh as your fingers slipped inside. Dark spots were bitten into supple skin, moans were melodies as you rediscovered each other.

“Don’t stop,” You panted into her skin as she guided you to the brink of ecstasy.

“Never,” came her reply, equally as breathless.

“What happened to being tired?” You laughed as she snuggled into your side, her once-eager fingers tracing light shapes into your skin. She groaned at your teasing, pressing more weight onto you. You fiddled with her hair as you waited for an explanation.

“Dein Spanisch. Mit dieser Dame am Bahnhof … Es hat etwas mit mir gemacht” You didn’t understand it fully. Spanish … train station? You were a little confused.

“Sorry, I got something about my Spanish and the lady at the train station. What was the last bit?” You were trying to learn German, but you had started with the most practical things – the greetings, stuff that happened in daily life, cheesy lines you could say to Lena to make her blush.

“Um … it’s a bit embarrassing, really … you were speaking Spanish to that lady at the station,” she blushed profusely. You just smiled, letting your fingers comb through the mess her hair had become. “Es war wirklich sexy.” Your grin doubled in size. So, you speaking Spanish turned her on? That was useful to know.

“Well,” you said after a moment of silence. “If me giving directions to the airport is sexy, you should hear me when I say something truly seductive,” you teased, squeezing her gently as she buried her head in your neck again.

“Mmmm, déjame pensar. Cuando llegue a casa, debo acordarme de llamar al administrador del edificio.” You laughed as you felt her blush, the new heat obvious against your skin. You also couldn’t help but notice the slight shift of Lena’s hips against your thigh. “Liebe, I just said I needed to call my building manager – that is not sexy.” She pulled away from your skin.

“Uh, everything you do is sexy,” she countered. “Say something else? Something that’s actually hot,” she begged, ignoring your teasing smile, and raised eyebrow.

“Hm, vale, vale,” you wracked your brains, trying to think of something that you actually considered sexual. “Quiero que me tengas en todas las formas que quieras. Quiero destrozarte una y otra y otra vez.” You usually weren’t that explicit about your wants, but you were reliant on Lena not really knowing what you were saying. Lena was gobsmacked. She had not a clue what you had just said but the way you had said it – the slight rasp in your voice, the rosy hue to your skin, the sticky sheen of sweat, the hickeys she had sucked into your skin. She rolled you over, balancing above you as her legs slotted between yours.

“Redonda Dos?” You asked. She knew enough Spanish for that.

Just as things were getting interesting again, your door swung up.

“Y/N? ¿Estás aquí? Ale te ha estado enviando mensajes de texto toda la tar -” Ona cut herself off with a shrill scream.

“Me arden los ojos.” She gagged dramatically. “Ew, mis ojos.”

“Oni, qué carajo en realidad?” You shouted back, dragging the duvet up to cover the both of you.

“Do you want to introduce me?” She grinned evilly.

“No, get out!” You glowered at her. When she made no effort to move, you threw a pillow at her.

“Ale says to come to her room.” You flicked your finger at her, letting her know your displeasure. Turning uour attention was fixed back on Lena, you heard her cackling outside.

“Scheiße, Scheiße, Scheiße. Alexia wird mich töten. Ich bin tot. Ich werde sterben. Ich hatte praktisch Sex mit ihrer kleinen Schwester. Oh, mein Gott. Ich werde sterben. Fuck.” Lena was panicking – real, genuine anxiety spread throughout her chest as she sat up against the pillows.

“Liebe, it’s ok,” you soothed, grabbing one hand in yours and swinging your other arm across her shoulders. “Liebe?” you tried again.

“Alexia is going to kill me.” Lena said, looking into your eyes for what she genuinely thought might be the final time.

“No, she won’t.” You smiled softly, not wanting to laugh at Lena’s ridiculousness. “I won’t let her,” you vowed, squeezing her hand tight in promise. “Now, we should probably get some clothes on and head to Ale’s room.”

As you reached for your hoodie, your world darkened suddenly as fabric landed on your head. You lifted it up to reveal a very familiar Adidas hoodie, turning back to see a sheepish Lena.

“How did that get there?” She asked innocently.

“I don’t know, Liebe. How did it get there?” You played along. “There’s only one Adidas athlete in this room, and it’s not me.” She shrugged, snatching your Barca hoodie out of your reach.

“I don’t know, Schatz. But it looks like it’s your only hoodie, and I want you to stay warm.�� She was a terrible actor.

“If you wanted me to wear your clothes, you could have just asked,” you laughed as you slipped on the material, getting slightly lost as you tried to find the head hole. You heard a sigh and footsteps before the fabric was rearranged on you as your head burst through the top.

“Guten Tag,” you beamed at her.

“Hallo, Schatz,” she smiled at you before stealing a kiss. You hummed gently, allowing yourself to melt into her just slightly.

“Vamos, vamos.” You spun her around to face the door. “Let’s not keep Ale waiting,” you laughed and tapped her on the bum to get her moving.

Alexia’s room was exactly the same as yours – a wide, comforting bed with a mountain of pillows dominating the space. You tapped on the door, knowing that she would probably have at least 3 of the other girls in her room with her.

“Schatz, I know I said I would endure this for you … for us,” Lena said when it was clear Alexia was making you wait a little. Was she second guessing this? Was she regretting you? “And I will, I will.” She added when your head snapped back to look at her. “But I’m really freaking out here.” You softened.

“Oh, Liebe. It’s ok,” you said, pulling her into a hug. “I understand, really, I do. This isn’t exactly how I wanted you to meet Ale, but I promise you,” you squeezed her to emphasise your point. “She’s a giant softy with a tendency for affectionate bullying. If she starts speaking in Catalan, just ignore her; that’s what I do,” you joked, trying to lighten her mood a little. “She’s just like Alex and Svenja are to you. She’s just looking out for me – even though I don’t need her to and certainly not in this case,” you were rambling now, unknowingly easing Lena’s anxieties in an instant.

Someone cleared their throat behind you, cutting your talking off. Lucy. You smiled at her, pushing past as you guided Lena to sit on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in both of yours when you sat next to her – providing quiet but noticeable support. There were more people in the room than you were expecting. You knew Alexia would call on Lucy, Irene and probably Paños and Marta to give the talk, but Ingrid’s presence surprised you, as did Ona’s and Patri’s.

“Entonces, quieres presentarnos a Lena?” Alexia asked, leaning against the desk in front of you, Paños on her left, Lucy on her right. Irene and Marta stood blocking the path to the door – all of them with what they thought were tough expressions on their faces. Ingrid looked annoyed to be there, Ona was trying to look hard, and Patri had an amused smile dancing on her lips.

“In English, Alexia. It’s not fair on Lena to speak in a language she doesn’t know.” You said calmly, breathing deeply to keep your emotions in check. They had promised not to treat you like a child.

“Do you want to introduce us to Lena?” She asked again, voice artificially calm.

“Not if you’re going to treat us like children.” You raised an eyebrow, reminding all of them of their promises to treat you more adult-like.

“That was before we found out you were having sex,” Lucy started. She stood up from where she was leaning, you matching her behaviour by squaring your shoulders.

“Suficiente, vosotros dos.” Alexia ordered before you had the chance to comment. As much as she wanted to give a protective big sister talk, she realised that maybe this was what you meant when you said that you wanted to be treated more like an adult. It was silent as she studied you and Lena – sitting so close you were practically on top of each other, your thumb never wavering in its soothing motion against the back of Lena’s hand, the way Lena’s eyes kept flitting back to your face in search of any discomfort. She didn’t need to do the grandiose speech she was planning to give – she didn’t need to let every one of the older girls chime in with their threats. If Lena harmed you, Lena wouldn’t harm you – of that, Alexia was sure. “Everyone out. Not you or Lena,” she said as you shifted to leave. “Ona, quédate también por favor.” Alexia ignored the other’s protests; Lucy’s whining was heard even with the door closed. She had allowed Ona to stay in her role as your best friend – she wasn’t about to deny her this opportunity (especially since she knew you had promised Lucy you would exact a painful revenge if Ona ever came to you crying over something about their relationship).

“Lena. I am going to say this one time,” Alexia began, watching as Lena’s eyes grew wide and gulped noticeably. You just rolled your eyes at her antics. “If you hurt her,” she paused for dramatic effect. “I will hunt you down … and end you.” Alexia was quite pleased with herself – she considered that to be restrained enough to appease you whilst instilling enough fear in Lena to make her slightly nervous. Lena nodded, taking a breath to start making promises of never ever hurting you.

Ona cleared her throat from her perch on the windowsill, drawing all of your attention to her. She took a deep breath before letting out the sentence she had been practising since you first mentioned a German footballer had caught your eye, “Ich werde dir die Beine brechen.” The pronunciation was horrendous, but Lena knew what she meant. It was the worst threat Ona could think of with Lena being a footballer.

“Oni,” you whined, although you had no leg to stand on – your threat to Lucy had been so much worse.

“There, we have said what was needed to be said. Let’s go to dinner, sí?” Alexia smiled at the three of you, the polar opposite of the menacing Captain that stood in her place moments before. Ona laughed, looping her arm through Alexia’s and heading to the door.

“That wasn’t so bad,” You joked, nudging Lena. The tension was still very much in her body, however.

“I need them to know, and you need to know it too. I won’t hurt you, ever, Schatz. I promise, ich verspreche, prometo.” She looked deep into your eyes, willing you to understand how deep her vow went. She made the promise to herself in the shower after your first date; her mind kept replaying your almost-kiss, your bubbly laugh and the feel of your soft hand in hers. She had vowed that day to never let your smile fade, and she wanted … no, needed … you to know that.

“Liebe, I know that. They know that.” You reached up to cradle her face in your hands. You took a deep breath and said the words that had been playing on your mind for weeks now: “I love you.”

I hope you liked it <3<3<3

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nonokoko13 · 5 months

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SPOILERS SXF CHAPTER 93 ❗❗❗

So, chapter 93. Starting with Anya scores...

THAT'S MY GIRL!!!! CONGRATULATIONS BABY!!! 🎉🎊🥳

(Let's take a moment to appreciate what a good and supportive friend Becky is too 💖)

As I expected Anya passed classical language (with a huge improvement!) but in the large, tedious walk on Hell that is school not everyone can get exceptional grades in every subject unless you're a Desmond apparently and Anya, as many people who preceded her and will come after her, failed math.

I have seen many people make theories about how certain older student who we shall discuss next could be her tutor. However, my theory is that she will receive help from Bill in the future

It makes more sense: both already know each other, Anya has more chances of Bill accepting or suggesting to help her than the-one-I-shall-name-later and overall Bill seems more communicative and better at socialising and explaining himself. Let's not forget he received a stella in math after all. So for me Bill seems like the most plausible option (maybe we will get jealous Damian with this friendship?)

Back at the Forgers residence the Authens pay a visit to congratulate Anya as well. When I read Sigmund's sentence about how rewarding is to have a payment for your hard work my mind automatically thought "But sometimes no matter how hard you try you don't get a reward. Sometimes the result is just not worth the effort" (I think many people has a canon event that reveals them that, specially when you're in highschool, middle school or college)

And right after thinking that he agreed with me lol. My mind really anticipates things before finishing a panel

Speaking of hard work and grades, I'm taking this chance to give my opinion: a system based on giving stars to those who have the highest grades while those who fail face the possibility of being expelled is awful. Not getting a star and comparing yourself to your peers already make horrors to your self esteem, imagine a child getting expelled for repeatedly fail a exam that may not be adapted to their needs (or getting many tonitrus for things your teachers disapprove of you but you didn't know it was wrong or for something about yourself you cannot control. For example a kid with ADHD unintentionally interrupting someone, disconnecting in the middle of a conversation or making noise with their leg when they stay still for too long. No need to go as far as talking about neurodivergent kids, look at that chapter where Anya got a tonitrus for not having a handkerchief. Who the fuck is punished for that when you're an adult anyway)

Enough of that, back to the chapter. Let's talk about what hyped me the most: Demetrius finally appearing on screen!

We already had crumbs of him before. Given Damian inferiority complex when comparing himself to him when he had talked about school and Twilight noticing his exams barely had any mistakes back in the chapter where Daybreak was welcomed to this world, him being a exceptional student when it comes to academics isn't surprising in the least.

Many say he's ugly and exactly like his father but I disagree. Donovan looks like a goddamn Frankenstein if Frankenstein was ugly, Demetrius take after his dead eyes look but he's pretty like Melinda. Not conventionally pretty like Damian or Melinda but kinda pretty. Like a zombie with sleep deprivation but in an endearing way. It's not his fault he's built like a Tim Burton or Don't Starve Together character... anyway I'm sure his appearance can grow up on you, hopefully (;´ ▾ `)

About the theories regarding this panel

It may be true something's going on, maybe he was really experimented on... But I can't stop thinking he was in that very moment "No thoughts, head empty" mode

I mean, he looks like a walking corpse in dire need of a proper nap, can you blame him if his thoughts are mainly focused on studies when Donovan probably spent time with him only for the sake of producing a good grades, not independent thinking machine as his heir? "He watch him study all the time."

I don't think it was necessary for a tragic incident to change Donovan and made him distant from his family. I suspect he has always been like that, perhaps even before having Demetrius, so it was less a traumatic big event and more the exhausting everyday life Demetrius has been having as far as he remembers of being supervised by his father in order to be the best at school and everything that turned him into the probably burnt out teenager he is.

Same with Melinda, being married to somebody you might not have even loved when you first got together, a man who doesn't try to understand others or seem capable of caring for anyone, a man who is not precisely publicly known for his kindness (remember Millie and Yor's boss when Donovan was brought up?)... Being married to that kind of person for years and then having kids with that person and have to keep being related to them for at least until your kids graduate sound like a miserable life indeed

The Desmond have a common theme going around that is understanding the world around them, or rather the lack of it. I can say for sure that Demetrius feeling overwhelmed simply with a bunch of kids and thinking he can't understand people have its roots in Donovan

• For Donovan is his narrow minded belief that nobody can't understand — therefore neither trust — each other because people is different; and as long as that phrase of "two people can't think the same" lives to the reality it finds itself in reaching a common ground is impossible.

• Donovan influenced Demetrius. Perhaps Demetrius doesn't share his father belief and that's not why he can't understand others, maybe it is because he was possibly deprived of a normal childhood where he could socialise with others of his age without his father expectations onto him.

Many academic gifted children reach a part of their lives where their habit is to think inside the box of "Good grades is all I'm good at or all I should care about; good grades = doing fine; it's all about what you can prove to those who expect something from you, not what you can prove to yourself to make you feel satisfied and happy".

When people who raised you condition you to act, live and think the way they wanted you to do is difficult to break and separate yourself from that. Plus he's going through the middle school phase, from personal experience that makes you x10 times angsty and complicated to understand yourself, much less everyone else.

• With Damian it is less discussed and pointed out because he's been able to have a relatively normal —if anything very neglected — childhood up to this point. He has friends, he acts like a kid of his age, his life doesn't revolve around his grades all the time... But that's the bare minimum of what a good childhood should be like.

It may be because of his age, but he doesn't see the bigger picture of his family. He can't see what is wrong with them (yet) because in his eyes nothing is wrong. Sure, he feels lonely and works hard for his dad to notice him, but that happens in many families right? He's not even in denial, he doesn't phantom the idea that what his family is, how they behave towards each other or towards him, isn't normal.

Don't make me start with how his future plans is following Donovan's footsteps in politics because he's trying that hard to approach him. He works hard at school because in his mind being like Demetrius or how he believes Donovan wants him to be would bring them closer, receive an understanding relationship from his dad when we know there might not be genuine affection between them from Donovan's side to start with.

He's teaching himself that love is conditioned by your "worth" or by whether you get to the expectations your loved ones have. That reminds me of what Sigmund told Anya because it sounds like a foretelling of Damian's life: [...] And one day you'll experience the frustration of realizing that hard work is not always rewarded. He doesn't many things and his age may explain it but it doesn't justify, if he continues thinking like that he'll have his hopes crushed and may turn out like Demetrius.

• As for Melinda, is difficult to talk about the point she stands in the understanding theme. Unlike her family she does seem able to understand people, perhaps because she wasn't raised like her kids have been. She's aware that her husband party made a lot of damage to their country, she seems aware and attentive to what surrounds her.

I don't think she cannot be understanding or perceptive, I think it's the other way around: the people she's surrounded by cannot understand her. Neither Yor, Anya, Damian, surely Demetrius and Donovan neither, her "friends" of the association she's in... Not even us can't understand the reason why she's so conflictive about Damian yet.

In just one appearance Donovan made his belief clear, thus giving us an idea of what type of feelings he has towards Damian. We can get so much of his character as a person with one chapter, but Melinda has appeared more than him and her true self is unknown. Donovan is reserved in a physical way, he isolates himself by not going outside and socialising, but he's not against the idea of explaining a stranger his stance in life. Melinda surrounds herself of people and listens to them but she keeps to herself.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to see more of Demetrius and the Desmonds. Hope we get more screen time of them, unless Endo has decided to drop such episode only to give us a one-shot chapter next and not elaborate further before introducing a complete different arc 💦

Although with what we have I'm already bought and entertained enough. Our favorite family is great but hooray for secondary characters being given depth and spotlight in this manga 🥳

See you next chapter reaction! If I made another one after other 25 full moons. I'm probably forgetting to talk about something...Oh well

#spy x family #sxf #manga spoilers #sxf chapter 93 #sxf spoilers #spy x family spoilers #chapter analysis #anya forger #bill watkins #donovan desmond #demetrius desmond #damian desmond #melinda desmond #becky blackbell #emile elman #ewen egeburg #GOD YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS EMO KID TO ARRIVE #my speculation of his looks was completely wrong and I'm glad it was. He looks prettier with not having a ikemen face #maybe it's just me and my liking for unconventional faces or faces different from the normal face an artist give to their ocs tho #idk. he looks neat to me #reminds me of owls and lemurs ✨#Maybe that's not the compliment I think it is given I also like George face because he gives me Frankenstein vibes #(not the same as Donovan's Frankenstein vibes btw)#♡ — shut up noko #Dementrius does sound like he would listen to MCR if there was MCR equivalent in sxf world. Look what parent issues and 0 naps do to a mf #Donovan let your family have a life without physical or spiritual presence or the consequences of it leaving a mark on them challenge #(impossible)#sigmund authen #almost forgot to tag Einstein looking grandpa #demetrius probably have 0 friends too. poor guy

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orcusfang · 1 month

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Whence the Sorrow Flow [Part One]

Pet!AU Aizetsu x pregnant Fem!Reader

'As the owner of a well known demon grooming salon, business has flourished the years following its opening. All kinds of demon pets are brought to you day in, day out. And with a partnership with the local rescue, one would think you’ve secured a comfortable living in this bustling city. However, nothing could be further from the truth, and wherever you go an unwanted shadow that isn’t your own is intent on haunting your every step. You try to go on with your life, but after months of enduring this hell you’re mentally in the gutter. When a longtime friend from the local rescue brings in a timid and anxious demon for a makeover, he once again tries to convince you to adopt a demon of your own. Usually you shrug off the suggestion, never giving it much thought. But now that the question whether or not you still considered yourself safe can’t be answered with certainty anymore, you consider the possibility. And he just happens to know the perfect demon for your situation…'

--------- A/N: So, I started this back in August last year and never really wrote this with the intention to post it? Most of it was inspired by a RP I had with a friend at the time, but I shared two previews on Twitter over the past months and people really seemed to like it and have been asking about it ever since. So… I’m posting it! Warnings: This story contains darker themes, domestication, heavier topics, pregnancy, stalking, master/pet relationship. And for later chapters: mating cycles/heat, dubious consent at times and eventual explicit sexual content. A reminder, this story is written with an adult audience in mind. So even though not all chapters have sensitive matters in them; no minors, please! Read at your own risk! I hope you enjoy! Please let me know if you liked it :] Word Count: 9732

As the owner of a demon grooming salon in the center of a bustling city, you had seen just about any demon you could’ve dared to imagine. After almost four years of being in this profession, you didn’t think you could still lay an eye on a demon and genuinely find yourself surprised and impressed. From the most pampered and arrogant demons that actually considered themselves above you; to the most shy and anxious of demons – you’d seen it all as far as you were concerned.

It was fascinating how a demon's place and status in the world depended on their owners. And yet, it was utterly unfair to those born in unfortunate circumstances.

However, every once in a while the lovely folks over at the local demon rescue were eager to drop by a demon that would forever expand your experience, and it just so happened that today was rescue demon grooming day.

It wasn’t an official day of any sorts, but whenever one of the workers there reached out to you for an appointment for one of their demons, you made certain to not take on any other clients that same day. There had been a time when you did, but… you’d learned the hard way to not book anyone else.

Because the demons that got rescued by them? They were often in very bad and questionable shape, and there was simply no predicting what you would see with a new appointment with the rescue group. No matter how many times they had visited for a makeover on a demon they deemed suitable for adoption, every single time they stepped through the salon’s door with the demon in tow, and you witnessed the state they were in – something deep within your heart withered just a little more.

So when your contact at the rescue, Takagi, called to book an emergency case, you knew you were in for a long and tough day. It wouldn’t be the first time a rescue took hours before they even looked somewhat presentable. Not counting the time it took for the demon to grow comfortable enough to let you work on them, and a strange gut feeling told you that this rescue might just be one of those cases.

That, or it was the other situation in your belly making you feel iffy.

Despite being five months in, you still had a hard time separating the two.

“Makes me wonder for how much longer I’ll be able to properly do this work.” You mused to no one in particular, only to fill the tense silence before the rescue’s arrival as you arranged all the proper tools you could possibly need. You hoped you could continue to work for a while longer, you were a one-person income after all. And rent didn’t discriminate, pregnant or not.

There were plenty of savings that would keep you going for a while, but the less you had to depend on that, the better. Especially now that your life was going to change drastically in about four months from now, and you needed to be prepared for any unexpected events. There was no saying there wouldn’t be complications, either.

Once all the brushes, scissors and shearing devices were put in place and all shampoo and soap bottles were refilled, you made a small pile of thick towels along with a happy hoodie that was certain to lessen the stress for today’s demon. All the while, you couldn’t help but wonder what demon would walk through the front door of the shop today.

Rescues were often a miserable sight, but you’d be lying if they weren’t a great way to learn and improve your methods. In fact, it was thanks to the collaborative events between you and the local rescue that you’d gotten such a reputable name to begin with.

That, and you were helping the demons as well. Aside from the obvious cleaning, you were also giving them an instance where a human didn’t touch or handle them with a violent touch. Considering most rescues came from abusive or neglected houses, hopefully that small experience would aid them in their first step to trust humans once again. Or for the first time.

Humming, you entered the space where you always bathed, rinsed and showered your demons, placing the bottles of soap and shampoo at a higher ledge to keep them from being launched across your shop thanks to trashing demons that hated to be wet and washed. It wouldn’t be the first time your workshop got coated in bubbles and had you and the demon slipping in all directions.

The demons would be fine. A little spooked, but fine. They were tied to the elastic leash on the wall so they wouldn’t go far, but you still had a sore spot on the back of your head when you once slipped and hit the wall. And that had been over a year ago.

You peeked at the wall clock while rinsing your hands by the large sink. The numbers showed 10:45, meaning that the appointment would be in about fifteen minutes. That is, if it were a normal client.

If there was something you’d come to learn the past years, it was that Takagi, your contact over at the local rescue loved being way on time. That meant that any moment now he would–

The faint noise of a car pulling up resounded outside your shop, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Ah, way too early. Just as expected.”

The opening of a car door and closing followed in their wake, and footsteps approached as the obscured window revealed two shadowy silhouettes at the front door.

The doorbell jingled reassuringly and you quickly snatched your apron bearing your shop’s logo – a cute illustration of a generic demon sitting in a bubbly bathtub– threw it on and approached the shop entrance.

You had hardly unlocked the door before an eager “Gooood morning, (Name)!” boomed in your face, accompanied with a flashy grin from the tall man. “We’re not late, are we?”

“Absolutely not.” You chuckled, already unable to resist the contagious eagerness of the older man. “Good morning, Takagi. Are you certain you don’t just want to plan the appointment 15 minutes earlier than usual instead?”

“If that suits you better,” He said casually, knowing that you were just messing with him. “but I fear I’ll just end up arriving early either way. That’s just in my nature, you know?”

Takagi was one of the older employees at the local rescue, and your official contact there. Whenever there was a demon that needed to be brought over to your salon, he was always the one responsible for arranging it. Ironically enough, you had known the man for much longer than you had the shop, for he was an old friend of your mother. As such, he was a trusted family friend, even if your only contact were these visits that happened a couple times a month.

And your mother never admitted to the claim… but it was very likely that she had recommended your shop to the man, thus marking the beginning of your good relationship with the local rescue and boosting your reputation in one fortunate move.

Though, because of an injury that happened on the job where a terrified demon had lashed out and caught him by surprise, Takagi had been unfortunately incapacitated for four whole months, and today was actually the first time you both saw each other again in quite a while.

Takagi quickly studied you. “Ah but what am I saying? First and foremost (Name), I believe congratulations are in order!”

He of course, meant the evident bump you lugged around every day, and you nodded with the biggest grin plastered onto your face. No matter how many people congratulated you, it felt just as wonderful as the first. Even if you were starting to run out of interesting responses other than: “Yes, thank you!”

“How far along are you?” He almost seemed as joyous as you, and you knew from experience that he was genuinely happy.

“Five months now,” Your hands rested instinctively on your small bump protruding slightly from underneath your apron. “The baby is healthy and growing well, and I’m heading in for another ultrasound in two weeks.” You heaved a sigh. “I keep thinking I’m used to it, but I can’t help but feel anxious with each visit.”

His dark bushy brows shot up. “Well, of course! It does concern the health of your little one, and as a parent you want nothing more for them to be safe. It’s fine to feel nervous – in fact, I think I’d judge you more if you weren’t.”

You blinked at him, surprised that you hadn’t thought of it that way yourself. Before you could say anything in return, however, his bright and eager gaze took a sharper edge to it. “That said… I heard what happened with your partner. Are you doing ok?”

As much as your pregnancy delighted and made you eager to be a mother – the overwhelming shadow that your former partner, the father, had left behind unfortunately haunted your every step, and you feared this question was coming.

Especially since you’d lived pretty much in a mental haze ever since it happened. If anything the responsibility of the shop kept you going, gave you a daily purpose rather than rotting in your own misfortune and potential horrors.

“It’s… better this way.” Truth was, you really didn’t want to talk about him. To grant him any more attention than his actions already demanded. If you had to convince yourself to believe you and your child would be better off without him even if it was a downright lie, then you would cling onto that lie with all your might until it turned out to be real.

Suddenly feeling very self aware, you shyly lowered your gaze downward, only for it to land on the silhouette kneeling behind the man – the demon he brought along. With Takagi’s chatter and sudden questions, you’d been distracted from the demon’s presence. The fact that it was frozen in place without making the slightest noise certainly helped to remain unnoticed.

The smallest hint of the brightest blue eyes you’d ever seen peeked at you between large, thick clumps of dark hair, and for a passing second you found yourself strangely entranced – as if you witnessed a beautiful, fleeting moment.

The moment that defined whether a demon tolerated your presence, based on their first instinctual impressions. An instinct that abused and neglected demons took as reality, often influenced by the events of their past, and one where you had to tread carefully.

But the moment was fleeting, because what your gaze focused on next took your breath away, and you could swear your heart dropped straight through your big pregnant gut, and right into your bloated feet.

All you could see was just a gigantic pile of neglected, overgrown, uncared and matted dark hair. In the way the demon was leaning back on their haunches, kneeling down to the ground, the hair literally covered them from head to toe. Only the slightest glimpse of their face occasionally managed to peek through the clumps of thick filthy hair.

You immediately recognized the first signs of the demon’s neglect. Their hair hadn’t been cut for the longest of time, or in the worst case scenario – ever.

Whoever previously owned them clearly never bothered to brush, take care or send them to a groomer. You felt like you were staring straight at a bunch of bird nests somehow mushed together into one chaotic structure. You could hardly see their actual face, and you cringed visibly as you caught a whiff of the downright putrid smell that reeked off of them.

Adding onto your mental list, you began to doubt whether or not they ever got a bath either. And that was just from what you could see with a quick glance. There was no saying what you would encounter once you got to work on them. God, the poor, poor thing.

You had to get to work.

“But please, come in. And I’ll get you two settled.” You stepped back to allow the man and demon to enter. Suddenly very motivated to start and try to lessen this demon’s predicament rather than dwell on what happened to you in the past.

“Don’t mind if we do! I must mention though, I cannot stay for long.” Catching the hint, no further questions regarding your former partner’s dubious actions were thrown in your way, and Takagi entered the shop with the demon cautiously in tow.

Once inside, the demon immediately retreated behind the man’s legs. The hair covered head moved a bit, and you realized the demon was checking out the new room he found himself in. All the different scents must make him anxious. If he could even smell anything properly with that wall of crusty hair obscuring his senses.

Takagi smiled tenderly down at the demon and then back to you. “Dear (Name), this is one of our newly rescued demons. He’s very shy and anxious, but thus far he’s been nothing but a gentle demon.” He gestured at the creature, and upon feeling both your direct gazes on him, he ducked inward a bit more.

“What’s their name?” You ask quietly, not wanting to spook or intimidate the poor thing any more than it already was in this new, daunting environment.

“His name is Aizetsu…. I think.” He chuckled a tad awkwardly. “This one was rescued along with three others, and one of them felt open enough to share their names to us, and… nothing else. Upon asked, they don’t want to say which name belongs to which demon, so we’re kinda still in the process of figuring out who is who.” He shrugged casually. “But this one responded to Aizetsu, so we assume that’s his name. But we don’t know much about him aside from the fact that he’s male.”

You nodded and peeked back at the demon hiding behind him. “So, what do I need to know about Aizetsu’s behavior before I start preparing him?”

“You probably noticed just by looking at him, but we found him and his three brothers in a severely neglected state.” Takagi began, the former pleasantness draining his features into something more sharp. “We don’t know all the details regarding their former owner, because it’s actually the police that found out about their existence. Supposedly they were there to arrest the owner on some pretty severe charges. None of those charges had anything to do with neglecting demons, unfortunately.”

No, of course they weren’t. As much as you and Takagi tried your hardest to improve demon lives, most of society really only saw them as exotic pets with no rights. Meaning that there were no rules set in place that would punish abusive behavior or other forms of mistreatment, and that people usually weren’t punished for it.

“They investigated the rest of the house, and found these four in separate rooms in the basement in just… awful, awful conditions.”

Your stomach churned, and yet some terrible curiosity needed to know to sympathize. “Meaning…?”

He scrunched his nose and shook his head. “Just the worst neglect someone could imagine. You’re really better off not knowing the details, (Name). Me and the others at the rescue having seen it is more than enough.”

Your gaze went back on the trembling demon; your heart aching in sympathy as well as disgust. You wondered what was going through the demon’s head right now, as the two of you discussed details of his former life.

“So, when they found the neglected demons in dire need of help, and cops being cops, they wanted to put a bullet through their heads. Probably to project the blame onto their owner so they could forge an even bigger record on the man.”

Your hands cupped your mouth in horror. “No! But then, how did they…?”

“Fortunately there was a female officer with them that’s worked with us before, and she ended up having to beg them to allow her to call our local rescue.” Takagi heaved a deep sigh. “Even then, for us to be allowed to go there, we had to reassure them that they would never hear about the demons and their own involvement ever again. Not from others, not from the news. For all we know, these demons were simply dropped on our front porch by some random stranger.”

“Did they seriously threaten you?” One could argue the fact he was telling you of this right now rather than keeping it quiet, but he was a man of honesty, and you were certain he provided you the truth because he really wanted people to understand what the demon went through. He was that committed to helping them.

“It’s all in a day of our work, (Name). Once the cops finished flashing their authority, we went in there to capture them.” He glanced down at the demon behind him. “This guy was the first and easiest to catch. Poor thing was so immobilized by fear that my colleague went into his room and just scooped him right out. The other three though?”

He whistled, and the demon behind him startled at the high-pitched noise. To which he flashed him an apologetic smile. “They gave the crew the workout of their lives. It took us truly five hours before we finally managed to catch and drag out the last one, but it was worth every single moment of it…”

“Aizetsu and his siblings have been with us for a few days now, and we allowed them time to realize and understand that their living quarters have changed, and have been feeding and looking after them gradually to try and get them get used to human contact.”

Your brows raised curiously. “And how’s that been going for you?”

Takagi loosed out a troubled breath. “Let’s say we have varying degrees of progress on the four. Aizetsu here has made the most progress because he tolerates being touched.” Takagi sucked in a breath. “Then again, even though he does, he also shows hardly any response to it, so that’s a bit of a concern. We think he might be too scared to have a reaction, unlike two of his brothers.”

Curiosity got the best of you, and that’s where you made a mistake: “Will they be up for adoption, too?”

You only realized your mistake once Takagi’s eyes suddenly flashed with mischief. “Once they pass every test, they eventually will. I have my concerns about the angriest one, but I won’t stop until he shows even the slightest hint of warming up to someone.” His eyes narrowed cheekily at you, and you knew exactly what he was going to say next.

“Why? Have we finally reached the point in time where you’re thinking about adopting one of your own?”

As was evident with your many past encounters, Takagi never allowed the opportunity to ask slip through his fingers. Back in the day, he was so shocked to find out that despite being someone who was very experienced handling demons, and bearing a similar passion and love for their wellbeing as he did – you didn’t have a demon yourself.

There were a handful of reasons for this, which you’d made very clear to the man whenever he returned to the subject. Your excuses usually ranged from: I’m just too busy to properly take care of one. To the more reasonable: My house is rather small, and I don’t think I can offer them a home they would thrive in.

Seeing right through you, his brow always raised as if to say really? Those reasons wouldn’t have stopped anyone else from adopting one, and a lot of them were far from as qualified as owning one than you did. You knew that if a demon somehow ended up in your care, you would do your utmost best to give him the best life and home the demon could wish for.

Still, you’d been set on your decision for the past years since you started this work. You weren’t entirely sure why you kept making excuses, but somewhere along the line you’d started to believe them.

Maybe it was so you wouldn’t have to think any further about the true reason, which had nothing to do with you in the first place. And now that Takagi was asking you about it once again… you were feeling tempted to spill it to him, knowing there was nothing left to pretend.

But you caught yourself before you could give into the sweet temptation of spite, knowing it added absolutely nothing worthwhile. If anything, it would most likely sour part of your day as well as Takagi’s…

And again, you had to remind yourself that you didn’t want to give the source of said reason any more thought and attention than he already demanded on a daily basis.

“You’ll never cease trying to pair me with one of your rescues, won’t you?” A soft laugh passed your lips, knowing that he really only did because he was convinced it would only add more to your life, and he really wanted that happiness for you. “I hate to disappoint you, but my reasons haven’t changed. In fact, in about four months from now I’ll even have less time to spend on a demon than I do now.”

“So you think!” He countered enthusiastically, jabbing a finger up in the air. “But I’d argue that adopting a more gentle and patient demon into the household is very beneficial with a little one around. Especially now that your partner isn’t around anymore, and combined with your grooming salon a demon could potentially help you to relieve the pressure put on you.”

You shot him a look. “Adopting a demon to take over my chores isn’t really a prime reason why I’d reconsider getting one, Takagi.” The last thing you wanted to do was turn a creature like that into a servant of sorts.

He shook his head, intent on getting his message across. “No no, you’re misunderstanding. Of course they could help in the household, but I’m just saying. It’s tough being a single mother with a newborn and a job that demands a lot of you. There are demons specifically bred and trained to be gentle and, uh, perhaps important for your particular situation – protective of their owners and their children.”

The latter part had you looking up with a snap – so taken back by what he was implying – that you actually glared at the man for a passing heartbeat before catching yourself. But not before you saw the realization settle on your friend’s face.

A sudden chill had taken to your skin and blood, causing your very core to tremble.

Looks like Tagaki knew more of the finer details of your recently changed situation than he initially let on.

You blinked nervously. “Mom told you?”

The man slowly nodded, his features stark.

“How much did she tell you?” You tried, urging the frustration heating your blood to simmer back down. You hated it when your mother decided to share private things when you clearly asked her not to do so, everything was already complicated enough, and the last thing you wanted was others to try and butt into what you should do.

“Enough for me to know you need protection.” He provided, his gaze stern yet concerned.

A growing pressure of panic threatened to squeeze your throat as you scrambled for excuses to cut this topic short. “The police have everything under control, so that won’t be necessary.”

“I’m just saying,” Tagaki said carefully, choosing his words. “A demon could keep you safe from someone like him. From what your mother told me, it appears you’re under a great ordeal of stress, and that’s not good for you nor the little one you’re carrying around.”

Clenching your jaw to keep yourself from snapping at the man, you honestly didn’t know why his concern for your well being felt like such a stab to your back. Not to mention your mother for just blabbering about this so openly to random people. What if word of his actions leaked out and somehow reached him? What would happen then?

Your gaze landed on the clock, where the numbers marked 10:59. It was time to get to work; you had to do what you were meant to do today – your escape.

You took a breath to calm your rising anxiety, turning back to Tagaki. “If… it gets out of hand, I’ll let you know.” It was the most basic answer you could give without outright telling him you would consider adopting a demon, but truly, you had no other idea how to get him to stop discussing this topic. “Alright?”

Because he meant well, he really did. Even if your fight and flight instinct was urging the opposite, and that wasn’t any of his fault.

Tagaki must’ve caught the glimpse within your gaze that you were simply not up for discussing this, and nodded. “I told your mother the same thing, if there’s ever anything you need; you can always contact me. I might not always be able to help with everything, but I’m sure we can find a solution together with the three of us.”

“Thank you,” And you meant it. “But the last thing I want to do right now is stress myself even further by thinking about him unless I have to.”

Tagaki’s eyes hardened just ever so slightly, not satisfied with your answer even though he seemed content to drop the matter for now. “Understandable.”

All the while, the demon just sat behind the man. Quietly and observing the shop he currently found himself in; showing no interest whatsoever in the topic or conversation you found yourselves in.

“How about we get Aizetsu here settled first and foremost? I really want to cut some of that heavy hair of his, as it must be very uncomfortable for him.” You suggested instead, eager to work and have something else to focus on.

Having to look at the severely neglected demon hiding away behind Tagaki made you restless to get to work. The less longer the demon was forced to endure the results of his neglect, the better. This demon clearly needed your help, and soon.

“Ah sorry about that, (Name), and here I said I didn’t have a lot of time to stay and I just go on blabbering like that.” He chuckled sincerely and looked down at the demon behind him, taking a step to the side.

Almost instantly, the demon tried to inch back behind him, but Takagi outstretched his arm so the leash, which he held rather short, wouldn’t reach far enough for the demon to do so. The demon’s movements were slow and lazy, but when he hitched on the leash, he tried again, and again. Seemingly getting more restless with each attempt.

“No, Aizetsu.” He corrected firmly, but not harshly. “Today we’re going to do something a little different. Remember what I told you before we left this morning?”

You observed, feeling somewhat tense in having to witness this exchange. As expected however, the demon said nothing in return, but he did cease his attempts to hide behind him. Though you suspected it was more because of his fear for punishment rather than actual obedience.

“Today we’re visiting (Name). She’s a very kind woman who’s going to keep you in her salon for a few hours so she can get you thoroughly cleaned and washed.” The demon cautiously tilted his head at the man once it was mentioned he had to stay here. “It might be a little uncomfortable and scary at first, but I want you to behave and listen to everything she says, ok?”

It might’ve been spoken as a request, but you saw it for what it truly was. An order, a command for the timid demon to follow. An establishment of responsibility and leadership was what most demons needed to be made clear, especially if – in this case – the current caretaker was leaving the demon in someone else’s hands. Aizetsu needed to be made clear that he needed to listen to you and your instructions once Takagi left the salon to deal with other matters.

A simple concept on the surface, but for a demon that had been neglected or abused, having known nothing but dubious relationships with humans – this was like asking him to shift its entire understanding of reality, and to put themselves in a highly vulnerable position. After all, they didn’t know you. How could they possibly know what you were going to do with them?

Most rescues you’d groomed here at the salon had been terrified of you, because they were expecting you to act exactly like people had done in the past. They had no reason to trust you, no matter how much Takagi reassured and explained the process to them.

Expecting no answer from said demon, Takagi turned back to you. “I tested Aizetsu in a couple of social exercises back at the rescue center. So far, he’s not lashed out or snapped at anyone yet. But if you feel like he might be inclined to do so, please don’t hesitate to muzzle him for your safety.”

You hummed a nod, making a mental reminder of the demon having passed some social exercises so far. Which was a good sign, as you remembered past demon clients that desperately needed muzzles to keep yourself safe. You always tried your best to get demons through it without stressing them out too much, but sometimes you were left with no other choice. “Understood. Are there any triggers that I should keep in mind with Aizetsu?”

“He seems easily spooked by sudden loud noises, from what I’ve gathered in the few days we’ve had him around.” He pondered some more. “Same goes for unexpected touches, I like to think it helps if you announce what you’re going to do. That way you won’t take him by surprise.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. Judging from that, Aizetsu wasn’t going to like the water hose and the blow dryers once he’d been bathed. Which could complicate matters, but it would far from be the only time that you handled a demon scared for those very same things.

“I think he likes it when you talk to him too. Calm and quietly.” Takagi remarked. “He shrinks away when someone snaps at him.”

So a lot of calm talking, instructions and gentle touches. Got it. It was enough knowledge for you to start working on him, and you would undoubtedly come to discover new traits and things the rescued demon hadn’t expressed at the rescue center.

“Anything else you think I should know before I get to work?” You asked.

“Aside from the fact that he’s male, quiet, scared and timid – no, I don’t think so. Because frankly that’s all we know at the center. Oh, and if you discover anything else about him, or if something’s up, please don’t hesitate to message me. I’ve got my phone on me 24/7, so I’ll be guaranteed to see your message shortly.” His gaze narrowed at you. “If you feel like you can’t get the job done because of your precious cargo, you also tell me, ok?”

It was obvious that he, and everyone else that doubted your capabilities due to your pregnancy only voiced their concerns because they were worried for you and your infant. But you would be lying if it wasn’t starting to get to you, especially since you were still working and dealing with your client just fine without any incidents.

You reined in the annoyance. It was probably your anxieties and hormones speaking, but sometimes it felt like people were infantilizing you.

“I’m pregnant, not enfeebled.” You teased, laughing. “Don’t worry. I think I’ll manage, but if something’s up, I’ll call you.”

He gave you a knowing look, but allowed the matter to rest. “I’ll leave you to your work, then.” He offered you the leash and you took it without hesitation, wrapping the end tightly around your hand. While you didn’t want to show dominance explicitly, it was the way to get nervous and tense demons to understand the dynamic between you. Small gestures like those were required, whether you liked it or not. You were here to help them, not to suit your own needs and convictions.

The gesture didn’t escape Takagi, and a certain tension lifted from his features. He turned to the demon once again. “Aizetsu, I’ll be leaving you with (Name) now. While you’re getting your salon treatment, I have to get your three brothers to the groomers as well.”

At the mention of his siblings, the demon perked up; a soft noise escaping him as the tension seemed to leave him for a split second. For a moment you thought he was going to speak, to ask anything about his siblings, but he remained in the same silence as before, and Takagi smiled down at him. “Now, you behave and listen to (Name), got it? She’s going to take good care of you. I’ll pick you back up as soon as she’s finished.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the praise, feeling somewhat relieved that he was only dropping one of the four demons in your salon. From the small snippets of information Tagaki shared, Aizetsu’s other siblings seemed much more energetic, and there were only so many rescues you could put up with before needing some normal clients again.

Bathing, washing and taking care of Aizetsu, a clearly anxious demon, would be more than enough for you today.

You allowed your gaze to wander down at the cowering demon, who must’ve felt your eyes on him and timidly turned to you, before peeking back at his current caregiver. As if he wasn’t sure who to listen to, and a clear sign that Takagi needed to get his butt out of here already to avoid further confusion for the already nervous demon.

Understanding the hint, Takagi determinedly strode to the door. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be back to pick you up in a few hours, Aizetsu. So make sure to behave until then.” With one final wave, he exited the salon. Promptly followed with the sound of his departing vehicle.

An anxious whine left Aizetsu’s throat the instant Takagi disappeared from his sight, and he couldn’t stop looking at the door. Confirming exactly what you’d feared for. The man had stayed around for too long in this new and scary environment for the demon, and now the only person he was even a little familiar with had left him here with a complete stranger, you.

“Don’t you worry, he will be back soon enough.” You lowered yourself to his level, making certain you intercepted his line of sight and smiled. “How about we get you settled and prepared, Aizetsu?”

You didn’t wait for a reply, knowing you wouldn’t get one as he was figuring things out. You got back up on your feet and gently tugged on the leash a couple of times to have him follow you to the bathing area.

It took a little bit of prompting, but he eventually gave in and removed his sights from the door and followed you. All the while, you decided to talk to him to keep his thoughts from straying away to other matters and instead focus on you.

“First of all, I want to welcome you to my salon, Aizetsu. I’m (Name), and in my daily life I work as a demon groomer. Meaning that I work on making demons as clean and presentable as possible, and that’s exactly what we’ll be doing today. If you don’t mind me saying, you look like you desperately need a good washing and a nice haircut.”

He definitely needed way more, but the last thing you wanted was to overwhelm the demon with phrases he probably didn’t even know. As neglected as he was, he probably never had any of these things before.

No answer or sound came from the demon except his soft footsteps behind you. It was relieving to hear that he was actually following you. So far he was taking Takagi’s command to heart.

You then stopped, and the demon followed your example almost instantly. “Before we continue, I want to make you feel as comfortable as possible around here. You haven’t shown any signs of wanting to run away, and as such, I want to try and take your leash off.” You raised a brow at the demon, still clueless whether or not he could actually see you through that mountain of tangled and matted hair descending most of his body.

“But in order to do that, I’m gonna need you to listen to everything I say. Do you think you think you can do that? Otherwise we can leave it on, should you feel more at ease like that.”

The latter was definitely a possibility, especially for anxious demons. Sometimes the promise of freedom came with too much responsibility, and spooked them in the process.

At the mention of having his leash taken off, Aizetsu’s head jerked up and he slowly looked around the salon. As if he were deciding whether or not the area and person he found himself with was safe enough to be ok with such a thing. Nobody had ever asked him something like that – or asked him his opinion on anything, for that matter.

He was cowering so lowly, and taking so long that you were about to conclude that he wanted to keep it on. Either option was fine for you, though.

“…. take…. it….”

You were about to approach the bath by the wall when the softest noise caught your attention, and you froze. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve sworn the sound was anything but his voice. Like the faint creak of a chair, undoubtedly from lack of use. But you did know better, and after Aizetsu had been wrapped in such silence with Takagi around, you’d almost started to believe that the demon refused to talk out of fear.

“What did you say, Aizetsu?” You gently prompted, a soft smile decorating your lips as you were starting to feel more hopeful for him. “You’ll have to speak up a bit louder, I didn’t quite get that.” You tried.

The shudder of a breath left him as he struggled with the idea that he was asked to speak his actual wants. Even if it was just a mere leash to you, to him it was anything but.

After another passing heartbeat, he tried again. His voice muffled mostly by the wall of thick hair around him. “I-I… I’d like it off.” He repeated louder this time, nearly stumbling over his words. Although it was still rather soft to you, you did manage to catch what he was trying to say. And that’s what mattered.

“Then that’s what we’ll do. If you decide later that you want it back on, just let me know, alright?” You reassured him. “I’m here to look after and take care of you, so if there’s anything you want me to know, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

You were aware this was a near impossible request for a demon pet like him to fulfill, but you laid it out there nonetheless. The more he believed he could trust you, the better. It would make this entire process so much smoother and easier on him.

“I’ll be removing your leash, then.” You informed him, remembering what Takagi had recommended: informing Aizetsu of everything you were going to do, and you assumed this regarded literally every little detail. “You have a lot of long hair though, so I will have to get up in there to do so. It might feel a little weird, but I assure you I won’t hurt you. Is that ok with you?”

The demon said nothing, and instead remained frozen on his spot on the floor. You decided to take his lack of reluctance and resistance as an answer, and slowly dropped down onto your knees while suppressing a groan from the weight of your belly, and extended your hands to the most furious black mane of chaotic hair you’d ever witnessed.

Gently, your fingers pushed aside the black locks for as much as the tangled state of them allowed you to. When he felt you touch his hair, Aizetsu took a sharp inhale and tensed like a brick.

It prompted you to halt. “Do you want me to stop?”

“N-no…” He whined out, and you almost believed he was on the verge of bursting out into tears. The poor thing was most likely expecting your touch to hurt him. Still, his answer was clear.

“Alright. I won’t hurt you, Aizetsu. I promise. I’m just going to remove the leash from your collar.” You kept reminding him as your fingers gently paved a path through his matted dark locks. Somewhere in the back of your head you wondered whether or not he genuinely believed what you were telling him, or was taking your claims as a lie wrapped up in gentleness. It was probably safe to assume the latter. But he favored the leash off so badly that he was willing to put himself through this suffering.

The demon was so tense he was actually trembling, and you were relieved when your fingers at last brushed against the familiar touch of steel at the end of the leash, and swiftly unhooked it from his collar and rolled it up in your hands.

That’s when you noticed how greasy and slick your skin had become just by lightly touching his hair. Not to mention the foul odor that now clung to your hands. Yyou had to try your best not to cringe for his sake.

Good heavens, you’d never seen a demon before that needed a bath and haircut as badly as Aizetsu did. And after four years of cleaning and taking care of rescues, that was saying a lot.

“There we go. The leash is off.” You said, ignoring the scent of death. You were going to add ‘Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?’ hadn’t the demon looked like he was moments away from passing out from shock; still as tense as a rock and trembling.

It had been a good first exercise to introduce him to non-harmful touching, but you decided it was better to give him a moment to try and recover from being touched by a literal stranger. So instead you approached the bath. “Now, what I’ll do next is run a bath for you, Aizetsu. The water will make a bit of noise and might be a tad unpleasant at first, but I assure you it will not hurt you in any kind of way.”

His steady but loud shudders of breath were the only indicator that he was listening, for they changed their rhythm every time he tried to register what you were telling him. When you turned on the water you spotted him flinching from the corner of your eye, confirming exactly what Takagi had told you about his fear of loud noises. Still, it was necessary for the process so the demon simply had to learn how to deal with it one way or another.

For now, you left the water running while turning to Aizetsu for the next step, and you were very curious how he was going to react to this. “Before we bathe you, I would like you to take off your clothes.”

The sudden request wasn’t enough to shake his tension, but you were pleased to see that his trembling ceased once his attention got shifted. The demon seemed to glance down at himself – at his long sleeved black shirt and matching loose pants, and then back up at you.

“Hmhm, those.” You affirmed, gesturing at the set of clean clothes the rescue center undoubtedly granted him. “It would be a shame if those got all wet and cold. That, and I cannot properly clean you unless you take them off.”

The demon seemed to struggle with what you were asking of him, and you didn’t blame him. Stripping in front of a stranger, especially when you’ve been neglected and abused by people from the same species must be a terribly daunting prospect, but unfortunately there was nothing else you could do to make this process any less vulnerable for him.

For a moment he hardly moved, but you waited patiently. Clearly he was considering his place here and the moments from his past. As well as the order that Takagi had given him to obey everything you asked of him, even if it went against everything his mind and body were screaming at him for the sake of self protection.

But then, slowly but surely – his long sleeves shifted and the hands he’d been hiding inside finally peeked out at the ends. You blinked, surprised to see the darker skin tone of said demon. With all of the chaotic hair you’d barely gotten a true glimpse at the actual demon yet, so to actually see details of him was a pleasant surprise because you were highly curious of what he would look like once you got through all that hair.

His hands looked like the rest of him – not taken care of in the slightest, and at the end of each finger were long, darkened fingernails that had not been clipped in forever.

Aizetsu had pushed his hands out of his sleeves to grab the hem of his shirt, but before he could nervously pull it over his head, you stopped him. “Just a second, Aizetsu. I’m going to get something real quick.”

He flinched and froze upon hearing your sudden command; instantly convinced that he’d done something wrong and upset you, and observed with tension as you pushed yourself up to walk to the back of the room to grab something, before making your way back over and slowly lowered yourself back on the floor. “You have such long nails, I think it would be good if we trimmed them a little bit before we continue.”

“W… why?” Came the muffled question from the thick mane of hair as he held his hands close to his chest, as if you were going to chop them off any moment now.

“They’re very dirty, and I might be mistaken, but I believe they are ragged and cracked at the edges.” You explained calmly, holding the clipper in front of you so he could observe it. “This is a nail clipper, it’s a simple tool to shorten your nails a little bit.”

Aizetsu cowered a little bit, and his trembling increased as he held his hands closer. “Please… don’t take my nails away…”

You shook your head, reminding yourself that despite his vulnerable display, it was important to stay positive and keep a soft smile on your lips to give him the impression it really wasn’t that serious. “I won’t, I’ll only make them a bit shorter. That way they won’t be as easily damaged, and way easier to clean.”

Aizetsu still didn’t look convinced, and you perked up as an idea struck you. “Here, I’ll show you. Look –” You raised your other hand and splayed it open so that he could clearly see your own trimmed nails. “This is what they’ll look like once I’m done.”

You got your answer regarding your earlier question whether or not the demon could actually see, because he quietly observed your raised hand before he dared to lean closer to get a better look. The demon then leaned back, peeking down at his own hands before dragging his gaze back to yours – and repeated that for a couple of times in a clear internal struggle happening inside his head.

He didn’t trust you, that much was clear. But with situations like these, he was starting to doubt his initial reaction because what you showed him made sense. More so than his instinctive responses currently did.

This was going to be a very slow process, you were beginning to realize. But it didn’t matter. This was why you only took one rescue a day and no other clients. Even if it took you all day, you were going to make sure this demon got a proper bath and haircut. You wouldn’t go home achieving anything less if it were up to you.

“Doesn’t look so bad, does it, Aizetsu?” You said, breaking through his pondering. After a heartbeat, he made the faintest shake of his head, and you smiled at his timidness. Lowering your hand between you with palm faced up, you asked; “Will you allow me to trim your nails? I promise I’ll be gentle with them.”

After all, they were very important to demons. Some of them had straight up claws, while others like Aizetsu didn’t. But there was still that sliver of instinct residing in their blood that made them believe they were very important to them, even if modern day demons didn’t hunt like they used to anymore. Without them, they felt like they had one less way of protecting themselves.

Which… was also why you needed them trimmed before you began bathing him. Takagi had advised to muzzle Aizetsu in case he ended up getting snappy to protect you from his large fangs, but demons had more than one way to harm others. Their claws – or nails in Aizetsu’s case – could still easily cut a human’s skin even with the slightest wipe. So for your own safety you always made certain to trim a demon’s claws or nails.

Another defensive tool was a demon’s horns. Fortunately for you, it appeared Aizetsu didn’t have any of those, which meant one less thing to concern yourself about.

After enough coercion, Aizetsu at last relented and tentatively held out his hand. He said nothing, but you could feel his piercing gaze nearly digging holes in your outstretched hand, ready to retreat at the first sign of you doing something he didn’t approve of, so you had to treat carefully. Lest you wished to repeat this entire cycle all over again.

“That’s good, Aizetsu.” You praised quietly as you slowly inched your hand closer to his. “May I take your hand in mine?”

There was another lack of response, but the demon didn’t retreat his hand, so you carefully reached out and took his larger hand into your own – becoming very aware of Aizetsu’s potential real size. He’d been cowering ever since he and Takagi entered the salon, so his full height and size once he stood upright on two legs was still a mystery to you.

“That’s good…” You repeated your praise in hope that would reassure him.

Gently, your fingers enclosed around his hand as you reached forward to begin the process of trimming his very long and filthy nails. You nearly failed to hide your disgust at the neglect this demon must’ve suffered through as a resounding click echoed through the space of the salon as you clipped his index finger, the top of his nail flicking into some random direction.

Aizetsu jolted lightly at the sudden noise, as expected, and you loosened your hold just enough for him to not feel restricted. His gaze focused on his trimmed nail, and much to his surprise he found that it indeed looked quite similar to your own.

It was enough to have him inch his hand closer on his own, and you went to work on his second digit, then the third, the fourth – until the entire hand was finished. All while keeping a watchful eye on his posture and reactions. Just because he was a timid demon that seemed to trust you for now, did not mean he couldn’t lash out unpredictably.

“And now the other hand.” To your surprise he obeyed without nearly any hesitation; replacing his trimmed hand with the other. A smile crept to your lips as you neatly clipped his other nails. There certainly was hope yet for this timid and anxious demon, even if his hand was literally trembling within your grasp.

“Aaaand all done. You did really well, Aizetsu.” You released his hand and watched how he observed it quietly; rubbing the pad of his thumb along the edges of his trimmed nails in an almost entranced motion. This really must’ve been the first time anyone ever trimmed his nails.

“That looks so much better.” Feeling a surge of satisfaction, you put the nail clipper to the side for now. You doubted the nails on his feet looked anything better, and in a perfect scenario you would trim those right after – but just like with their hands, demons were very protective of their feet as well. Since you were already asking so much from the anxious demon, you decided to wait with that after you bathed him and cut his hair.

Speaking of which… you suddenly found yourself conflicted as you observed the demon. He really was almost entirely covered with his long hair, and the state of it was just downright terrible. To have hair that was as tangled and matted as his must be really painful for the demon’s scalp… so much that you were actually considering already cutting pieces off before you even decided to bathe and wash him.

“Your hair must be so heavy and painful, with all those matted locks tugging against your scalp…”

You hadn’t realized you’d spoken that part out loud until Aizetsu turned his focus back to you. He briefly fidgeted with his fingers. “It does hurt.” His quiet voice broke the silence.

Your heart trembled in sympathy for the poor demon, and you swallowed against the sudden block lodged in your throat. To have him affirm your suspicions only made you feel worse, but most of all angry at the person responsible. “I’m considering cutting off some big chunks of your hair before I decide to bathe you. Would you like that?”

“Yes…” He responded almost instantly, confirming that the matter of his hair was a priority for the demon, and you felt bad for making him endure the nail clipping before even prioritizing the biggest problem in the room. You’d done so to keep yourself safe while working on him, but still.

“I will have to get close to you. Kinda like before when I detached the leash from your collar.” To emphasize the meaning, you tentatively shuffled closer, watching the demon’s posture carefully as he watched you. With his hands balled in the fabric of his pants, his body was as rigid as a rock, but aside from that you still sensed no sign of hostility from the demon.

“Rinsing your head like it is now, the weight of your hair will be immense, and I don’t want to potentially hurt you.” You explained slowly as you reached down your apron and pulled out one of your scissors from one of the small pockets and held the tool in front of him. He stared at it for a passing second before slightly leaning forward, maybe smelling it. “This is what I’ll use to cut your hair.”

The only response was a deep, shuddering sigh.

You had no clue whether your current scissors were sharp enough to cut hair of such bad quality, but you would try. You knelt down next to him and reached over him to grab locks of his dark, thick hair. Cutting off excess and terribly matted and tangled pieces that you could reach easily. All the while, Aizetsu endured the start of the haircut with the stiffness of a plank. The fierce grip he had on his pants causing his knuckles to pale.

He hated this. His previous owner hardly ever approached him and his brothers. Touches equaled pain, that’s simply how it had always been like in that basement, and If it wasn’t him who bore the front of it, it was certainly one of his brothers in the other rooms.

And while Aizetsu initially didn’t sense any hint of hostility from you, he just couldn’t let his guard down. No matter how kind you acted, you were still a total stranger. Every time you mentioned getting close, all he could see before his obscured eyes was a vague shadow looming over him, and he instinctively tensed up; preparing for a sudden blow to the head, to the hands, legs, or any other vulnerable spot.

Hearing the sound of snapping scissors, along with the ghost-like caress of your fingers through his hair made him want to rip himself away and hide somewhere until Takagi returned to pick him up. Only problem being, if he did, Aizetsu would be in big trouble, he just knew it. Everything he did could potentially be punishable. Even answering your questions felt like treading into dangerous territory, and yet refusing to answer wasn’t an option either because he’d be defying you, and that was a certified way to get punished.

Either way, he was going through hell. He was almost starting to long to be back in that dark basement. The lack of attention and the few unexpected touches his previous owner gave him were so much better than being approached and touched this much by you and the other rescue workers all so suddenly.

At least in that dark house he knew his brothers were nearby somewhere. Aizetsu hadn’t even seen them ever since he got taken from the house, and he missed them dearly. Scenarios of what happened to them constantly haunted him. Takagi did mention that he was bringing them to grooming salons as well, but somehow the meaning of that passed him by in his constant panic. He couldn’t do anything but worry for their wellbeing.

With each snip, large locks of thick hair dropped to the floor around him, and Aizetsu decided to start counting how many pieces you cut off. Anything to try to get his heart to stop bursting out of his chest from panic and stress of what his future could possibly bring.

Because so far it was only getting worse and worse since he’d been separated from his brothers...

#Kimetsu no Yaiba fanfic #Demon Slayer fanfic #KnY #Kimetsu no Yaiba #Demon Slayer #Fanfic #Aizetsu #Aizetsu x Reader #Aizetsu x y/n #Pet AU #Also modern AU I guess #demon #KnY fanfic

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in-flvx · 6 months

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On borrowed time

A small exploration of Remus' state of mind before he takes the position at Hogwarts. Some flashbacks, reflection on the time before Halloween '81, and many memories of Peter. Remus Pov.

Inspired by a conversation with @jmagnabo92 and @fiendishfyre

I'm using very few names throughout, I hope this won't be too confusing.

Remus is sitting at his kitchen table, a half-drunken cup of coffee before him. It had been steaming when he sent out his patronus, hands shaking so hard that he nearly dropped his wand. Waiting for a return message. Anything would do. Anyone to tell him he will get to come, well, home, for lack of a better word. The place he found friends, love, safety, adults who respect him, people weaker than him. Remus sighs out a shaking breath. Every rattle, every noise outside sets him on edge, the siren song of a death omen. He had been living on borrowed time since he was four years old. And now he asked dumbledore for more.

Too often had he thought about this. If it had only been him. It should have been him, who hunted Black down. He should have been his last victim. Not sweet Peter, with the golden hair and ocean eyes. Peter, with his deep love and joyful laugh, who made friends with everyone, wherever he went. But Peter had always had a better hand at reading people, Remus supposes. He had seen the signs as well, tried to show them to Remus, who didn't want to listen. Didn't want to see. The tired eyes, the paranoia, the unkempt hair. The missions no one ever seemed to know of. The deaths of his brother, and his father over the span of a year...

An owl coos, and Remus jerks so hard that he knocks over his cup. His wand sends sparks over the table, scorching it. Remus curses, and then attempts to vanish the mess. His spell works only partly, leaving behind a dark stain, where the coffee had eaten it's way into the fibres of wood, where the darkness has become part of the table.

Peter had seen the signs, and had also seen just how much Remus' own perception was compromised. What had lead to some cruel jokes in school, was now legitimate cause for concern. It still makes him ache, in more ways than one, to have wanted like this. Peter had been brilliant. He had seen the supposed suicide of R. Black, and the later demise of O. Black for what they were, had warned Remus against becoming secret keeper for the Potters. Let him, Peter go into the confrontation with him, let Peter put a target on his own back. So when he was approached, Remus forcefully objected. So forcefully, in fact, the communication between them stopped entirely. Peter had told him, then, that he wasn't even approached for secret keeper. That the choice has been made, and that they can only hope now, that Peter had been wrong all along. But Peter always knows how to read people best, so he was right in that too. Remus had left the country for a while, on the potters suggestion, and their wallet. Borrowed their money, borrowed their time. He is so tired. If he had been there, it could have been him and Peter against Black. A united front, a team. Maybe they'd have stood a chance. Or else died as brothers.

"After careful deliberation, we have come to the conclusion that Alastor Moody is of better use on the hunt for Sirius Black. His position as teacher for Defence against the Dark Arts is thus open for you to fill. Your safety will be ensured. I'll visit with you tomorrow, to talk about accommodations and curriculum. If you have any insights into Blacks mind, please share them with me. Renew the wards on your home. Regards, A. Dumbledore"

Remus had just stared at the silver apparition of a giant Phoenix, while dumbledores deep voice finally made him relax a little. Unwilling to go into the dark, Remus just speaks a few wards around the kitchen, resolving to do so by light.

Breaking out to collect his last two victims was a very fitting thing to do. Remus should have expected it. He had always been able to so the impossible. It's one of the things Remus had lov-, no, respected, about him. And he must have learned a lot of Dark magic from Voldemort. Enough to kill a dementor, maybe? To step through solid walls? Who knew. Just two more victims, until every last family he had once had was dead. Remus and the son. He tenses again when he thinks about the son. What a Dark omen, to get him as godfather. Or maybe it's that what protected him? Breaking a vow can have weird results. He doesn't know what to tell the son when they meet. Doesn't know how to tell a child he's not wanted, has too much darkness surrounding him. Remus shakes his head at that. It's not the sons fault that his godfather is evil. It's not the sons fault that the parents are gone. What would Lyall say, if he knew that Remus feared a child for its circumstances! Remus would be civil, kind, and do his best to protect the son from his godfather. No more, no less. And when the godfather was safely back in prison, Remus could go back to his normal life. And maybe, just maybe, Remus could do what he was meant to do 12 years ago. Stand up to Black, with Peter and the Potters on his mind, to serve justice. To repay just an ounce of his life debt..

#remus lupin #sirius black #Harry potter #Poa #prisoner of azkaban #peter pettigrew

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thegodmother007 · 29 days

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My New Neighbor

This is my first time really giving writing G/t content a try. The concept is that this is a newly integrated world where both Giants & Humans co-exist...or at least they try to as much as they can.

TRIGGER WARNING: This story will eventually contain violence, angst, threat of death, swearing, dark humor, adult themes like sex & drugs, racism, classism, sexism etc. Do not say you have not been warned

Chapter: Prologue - The City of Epherton

My heart was in my throat as I watched…no felt them walk by the coffee shop I was ordering a chai latte in. I looked around to the other patrons in the coffee shop to see that no one else in line seemed to notice it as much as I did. I looked around the café while I waited for my name to be called, to see how others might be reacting to the tremors but everyone was still preoccupied with their own drinks, the works on their laptops or even chatting with friends. It was like I imagined the tremors that emitted from the floor, but I know I hadn’t, not in this city. As my adrenaline levels lowered, I focused on keeping my breathing rhythmic & steady, trying to keep myself looking cool & collected, like I belonged here.

“CAIN!” Yelled the middle aged ginger woman sliding my chai latte across the counter to the pick-up area, spiking my blood pressure once more. However, looking at my drink made it a lot easier to calm down, as I had something else to focus on. I could immediately taste the warm cinnamon & cloves taking the first sip which got a relaxed, deep sigh from me; one I had been holding onto for the last hour. The train ride in was anxiety inducing as it was, but to actually be here, was a whole new experience. As I exited the coffee shop, I put my sunglasses on & pulled my beanie down, keeping my eyes straight forward in an attempt not to gawk at the enormous humanoid figures across the street. This is my first time visiting Epherton, so I did not want to make any trouble for myself by offending anyone.

Walking down the street & to my appointment, I could not help but allow myself a glance or two at the giants that seemed to surround me & the other Humans who walked the sidewalk. When I did look up, I could feel my stomach drop into my shoes, watching these giants boldly exist in front of me, an embarrassing reaction to something it seems most humans here have become okay with. I could see people, no, giants, ignoring us who walk across the street, laughing and having lives like regular people. It was weird to watch them like I was some fly on the wall, but reminded myself very quickly not to be caught staring at them, per the suggestion of all my friends and family. For every 10-Humans, there was only 1 giant, so although we outnumbered them 10 to 1, it did not matter in my eyes. One giant could take down hundreds of Humans if they really wanted to, and many have. It is why this city is so special, because it allows for an integrated existence for both Humans & giants. It is the first of its kind to ever exist, “Epherton: A City of the Future” many called it, but I deemed it a place I would circumvent until I no longer could & today was the day I could no longer avoid it.

So then, why am I here at all? Well, the housing market is garbage & I am a 21 yr old who can’t afford much. This town is full of young people, giant & Human alike, looking to plant roots & start lives of their own. Like so many others in this city, I am looking for affordable housing & I am weighing my options by exploring the Integration Housing Program that Epherton is offering. I am not unique in my reason for being here, from what I am observing, but I am unique in my attitude towards them. However, that is something I plan on keeping to myself for now. After about a 20min walk, I find myself at the Human entrance of the government sanctioned apartment building where I will be inquiring about the Integration Housing Program. I looked at the other side of the property, which was sectioned off with a 10ft concrete wall, but that hardly would stop any giant if they wanted to just step over it. I look to see giants coming & going on the other side of the property. There is a man holding the apartment door open for a giantess who has her hands full with a box of some sort, there is a gardener who is trimming some trees which are being used for décor & a giant man smoking on his balcony. It was pretty humdrum activity for beings who were easily towering at 60-85ft respectively. I shuttered a little bit before steeling my nerves once again, reminding myself to play it cool if I want a chance at this program. I opened the door to a fluorescent-lit office space with a wall lined with bronze lock & key mail boxes, a buzzing from the ventilation system & a shiny waxed floor I could almost see my reflection in. I approach the front desk with a false bravado & cheap smile “Hello, I am here for a 1:00pm apartment tour for Cain Wagner?” The front desk attendant, a portly, older man with a graying mustache and balding head sits up with a smile “Welcome to Hedge Heights, I will be your guide this afternoon!”

#g/t talk #g/t #g/t story #g/t fluff #g/t angst #g/t community #sfw g/t #g/t writing #giant/tiny #giant tiny

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aconflagrationofmyown · 8 months

Note

Will we be seeing more of sweet Rosalee’s connection to her father? As an ultimate Daddy’s girl, I hope so. I showered with my Dad until I was in third grade and when they told me I had to start showering alone I refused to shower for like two weeks, I’d scream like if they were murdering me when they tried but my mom’s the tougher one and she was like “Nope she’s going to learn to shower alone!” So she waited me out haha. But even afterwards like in high school I’d have movie nights still with him and I’d lay on top of him on the couch and cuddle. My dad was honestly just the best. He was my best friend. When I had my first kid he went in the hospital room and checked on me first. It’s sad that some people would probably read this and think it’s weird that I was so close to my Dad but to me, it’s more sad that we live in a society where a Dad and daughter can’t be affectionate with each other after a certain age because of the world we live in. My cousins all hated me when I was young because my Dad was the fun uncle but I wouldn’t let him play with other kids! I asked him one time if I bugged him by always being with him but he told me that he was just always scared to fail me which blows my mind because I just always wanted to be near him that’s all I needed. Even after I had my own kid I’d go visit him and lay in the bed with him and bug him and my mom. When he would vacation without me, he would check in with me three times a day and yes, I have siblings but I was the only one who gravitated towards my Dad like that my sister and brother were all about my mom and I’d ask them why if Dad was better and my mom would get upset with me lol! Don’t get me wrong I love LOVE my mom and she knows I do it’s just a different connection. Hope you don’t mind me sharing my memories, Rosalee just wanting to shower with her Daddy and getting a kiss attack on her face until she smiled brought back happy times and I would love to see so much more of that especially because I’m sure Elvis was an amazing father to Lisa Marie too.

P.S I still refer to him as my ‘Daddy’ even now and as I’m from Los Angeles (I think it may be more normal to do so in the South?) so many people tell me that’s weird I hate what people have done to the word Daddy.

Oh my darling anon, this touched my heart so much. We are indeed the lucky ones to have our own connection and memories to draw on, makes me sad for others who would view it through the lens of our unfortunate and broken world. Not everyone’s so fortunate but it’s a beautiful thing and ought to be normalized as much as it can be, the bad always gets more publicity -and while it should always be called out- my goodness, we gotta have representation for the good dads and their devoted little girls.

All of Lisa’s anecdotes suggest such a connection with Elvis, and even the way she respected and honored the man who was her daddy (even though she called him Elvis, haha) more than the legend she could have, touches me. I love it and have tried to bring that to Sarge and give a various connections to each kid but Rosalee is that one special baby who relies fully on him, and that’s quite the weight for him as Elaine is so capable he’s used to the kids finding her sufficient, but not this child, she needs him at all times and I think he’d love that and take it seriously.

All that to say, YES WE WILL GET SO MUCH MORE OF THEM including when she’s an adult and a child. If you ever have any prompts you’d particularly like to see, from memory or otherwise, please send them in!! This is another reason I chose Riley as her faceclaim, I wanted his Rosalee to be his real relative and Riley’s got his bright grin, in my opinion.

Can’t thank you enough for this sweet note, you’ve made my night.

Much love, Marina 💋🎀💋

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #sarge asks #love notes #Rosalee Presley

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lonelysucker7 · 7 months

Text

Strangers on a Train

Pairing: Kaine Parker x gn!Reader!!!! Might be even the first one lol.

Summary: You’re just an average person making their daily living, surviving adulthood as it is. You live in Houston, Texas where even the hero the Scarlet Spider lives. And then there’s a guy, who looks like he’s gone through hell, on a train you’re crushing on.

Word count: 4.6k

Reader is a bit insecure but still shown to have confidence in themselves. Tried making this as neutral as possible and let me know if I need to make any adjustments or corrections! And tell me what else to add in the tags as I am so unsure! This is not edited by anyone. Reader is between 20-30.

Warnings: Profanity (for those who don’t tolerate it), mentions of violence, angst

Anywho enjoy!

⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴

You lived alone.

Practically an adult now, not needing anyone to worry about you. At least that’s how you felt trying not to doubt your new independent life. Your parents suggested one of them could live with you temporarily until you felt truly ready.

Did they not trust you enough?

Trying to ease their worries by saying how you would be fine and how your job helped keep you financially stable, was more than enough to take the hint you didn’t need them.

And yet… the little kid inside you berated you for being so stubborn and perhaps wrong at your choice. You practically dismissed what may have been more than a helping hand. Or something. And not only because you were confident finding your way around purely by instinct but the fact you alone moved far away from home— landing yourself in Houston, Texas.

Why out of all places, you’ll never understand.

Maybe because like most popular states in the United States of good ol’ America, Texas was politically wild. Always something new coming up in controversial and culturally relevant ways. It applied the same to Houston. It was grand. It was sophisticated and complicated. It was intimidating. You’ve only been there once in your life to visit a relative and somehow that experience never left you. It stayed.

It was perfect for you, your siblings said. You were complicated enough already, why not move to a place that met people of your type? Most nights as you stared at the popcorn patted ceiling, you mulled on their words with a dumb grin on on your face. A new form of excitement you began to secretly crave outside your typical hometown awaited in Houston. Outside of your own comfort zone being a ‘neighbor next door.’

In school, many of your fellow peers and teachers saw your potential leaving and pursue anything that outweighed them career wise. The big bucks waited for you. For others, they might have envied you to your grave as you gained immense approval that they could not. In your chair as spoken approval words filled the air, the sharp stares of fellow students stabbed around your body.

What a goody two shoes… what a liar… you weren’t better than anyone.

I’m sorry, leave me alone, you thought painfully to yourself. Your nails forcefully digging a little on your thighs. Yet you smiled all the way through.

Through a series of obstacles that included breaking up with childhood friends reducing to one trusted, a close call with drugs, off and on flirting with peers you thought had something going on but never resulted in anything, and maybe a couple drinks that you sneaked in your system…you graduated high school with average grades and made your way to college. You left everyone behind. And you felt nothing but pure numbness that eventually emotions caught up to you three days later. Not that you let anyone know.

College was the first time you felt your parents had trusted you with the most faith they had in their children. It was far away from where you lived, breathing new air and feeling the change of atmosphere as you walked around campus. Occasionally you called your parents and siblings to check up on you and them in return. College gave you a taste of what independence was, some form of responsibility that only you felt could navigate yourself through the ups and downs.

And it surprisingly tired you. But it was okay, you assured yourself. Somehow you’ll make it just fine.

You always did.

…………..……………………………………………………………

BEEP BEEP BEEEEEEEPPPP— SLAM!

6:00 A.M.

The alarm had abruptly woke you up with a start. That horrible sound of the typical ‘beeps’ that only grew louder by the second if you ignored it until it finally wakes up your ignorant ass. You slammed it with a hand, a low grumble emitting from your lips as you flexed your palm from the stinging pain. Must you live in such a way? Sure. You could’ve used your phone instead, whereas provided you with elegant ringtones not needing to stress you and make your morning hell.

But no. You’d only feel too relaxed, feeding more pleasure to sleep than waking you up to fullfill another uneventful but still lively day.

Another day in Houston, your mind mumbled to itself. This wasn’t college anymore. Now you were a full time working adult.

So you woke up, turning your body on your back as your eyes scanned the room. Surprisingly unlike back at home, the sunshine here arrived early. Light peaked through the white satin curtains and filled the bedroom with a happy glow of orange hues. You took in the soft noise of a fan running in the background to keep you fresh in the night. After all the temperatures here weren’t merciful to your body.

Your eyes squinted a bit moving another direction of the room, taking in the sight of your desk becoming more untidy. Pens, paper, a couple of thumbtacks, and paper clips spread across the surface calling to be cleaned up. You frowned a little from the sight. You weren’t messy most of the time. You had to do something about it later. Eventually you set your sights on a calendar from across the room. A big red circle marked in about a week from today, black bold letters scattered over the number as if there was much enthusiasm to give but you clearly knew what it was.

Your birthday! A small half smile crossed your lips as the thought settled in. Obviously you would get phone calls from your family in the next upcoming days so it won’t be too hard to go forget.

Okay that’s it. A small giddy feeling bubbled in your chest and you felt it was enough to start your day. You squirmed a bit on the bed, stretching your stiff muscles from your arms and legs (even getting an ankle spasm scare hah), and sat up. From the heavy warm cotton blanket you were comfortable underneath, your body departed with a goodbye as you got off the bed.

………………………………………………………………………….

6:15 A.M.

You pulled down your boxes of cereals from the cabinet trying to debate which one was better, eventually sticking with the colorful “Lucky Charms”. Shuffling your way to the living room, you grabbed a chair and dragged it to you sitting down with the cool bowl in hand.

As you ate comfortably, your hand reached for the remote of the T.V and flipped through the channels. Various channels displaying morning cartoons, advertisements for useless things, and then…

BREAKING NEWS: THE SCARLET SPIDER DOES IT AGAIN!

Your eyes widened a little as you watched the hero of Houston swing down in front of what must have been a shootout and (you couldn’t help but laugh) watch him grab a couple civilians from the scruff of their shirts and toss them out of the way. Live coverage from earlier you figured as the background barely showed any sunlight. Seemed that the activity happened near by the Houston Zoo.

It was comical the way he did his work. Munching on your breakfast you observed how flexible and fast he was, noting the red and black suit hardly become untouched by the flying bullets. The camera ducked down behind injured cars, capturing the action in jagged movements and you heard a breathless reporter talking to the station.

“We’ve obviously seen Scarlet fight before, but this— this absolutely boggles your brain. I mean just look at those fists, and those — oh my god, did you see that?! That guy just sliced a finger off!”

The cereal in your mouth almost spat out as you jumped seeing the Scarlet Spider whip his head around to face the camera and jumped from a lengthy distance and landed in front of the car they hid. The cameraman let out a strained yelp as he clutched the camera, daring to raise it up… to his figure.

Shit, you had enough fans in your home but seeing him in his suit and muscles practically stretched out from his work absolutely made you sweat. The red glare of his lenses reflected back the image of the camera and his fists were clenched seriously by his sides. A smug smile and dumb giggling got you choking on your cereal, even more so when the hero grabbed the reporter and the cameraman in the air.

With all that strength, you could imagine it wasn’t a problem. The camera panned down at the Scarlet Spider; him shaking just the minimal. Heavy breaths sounding hot and stuffy from his mask were heard through the camera as the hero finally spoke

“THE F——…?! What, doesn’t this scream to you ‘Save your a—es?’ Stop recording and get yourselves out of here! Move it!”

His ragged breathy words sent chills to your spine. He seethed it with so much intensity that it was harsh, it was intimidating… maybe even a bit sexy. You swallowed a spoonful of those bastard little marshmallows, making a face as you felt them enter a wrong tube.

More popping noises of guns in the background could be heard, and the Scarlet Spider dropped both men on the ground as he returned with a growl to his work. The cameraman and his fellow reporter somehow managed to escape the scene unharmed, and unsurprisingly they laughed the whole situation off.

“Wow, that was… quite the experience! Better write that part in my resume, huh Mark? Not that it matters…”

Your sights still drifted to meet the cameraman’s focus from a now safer distance still catching the action happening. The Scarlet Spider grabbed a gun out of a mobs hand and flipped it to punch him with the butt of it, then grabbed another man and slammed him into a wall.

You noticed the time and it was almost 6:30. Sighing as you left the table, you quickly washed your dish without much to think and placed it aside. As you moved to the bathroom, the T.V in the background still exclaimed the success of The Scarlet Spider and tried to get a word from him. Of course, nothing.

In the shower, you reminisce the Scarlet Spider and his unusual style of being a hero. You didn’t know if it was normal, but it was something that you found yourself thinking about most of the time.

Earlier when you meant by how comical he worked, you meant to say how strangely funny the Scarlet Spider worked with fists and not the webs he had on him. Unlike Spider-Man in New York, you noted silently how it seemed that the Scarlet Spider intentionally brought himself to face the danger. Made contact directly with the person, stepped in and pushed away whatever morals he may have (or not at all) and went down with it in a brutal way.

Didn’t seem he’d shy away from a bloodbath. Rather he welcomed it. He was different. You were aware of the supernatural forces that Houston encountered now and then and his webbing seemed to have only been useful then. For now, with the normal civilian and criminal, fists were his only friend.

Warm water poured on your back, slid down to your feet as you pondered on a single thought.

Who was he?

…………………………………………………………………………

7:15 A.M

Once after a rather lengthy shower, you changed into your work clothes and kept your eyes on the clock. Your work required you to travel by commuting on a train so it was necessary to arrive sharp on time. One thing you learned arriving in Houston were people, elderly and youth fought for a seat. No one liked standing just to sway from the movement of the train whenever it stuttered to a stop. It was just painfully awkward.

You chuckled at a memory that resurfaced from your dense brain. On the day of your first ride, you had a job interview and as you reviewed the paperwork in your hand, the train stopped and caused the papers to fall out of your hands. You were one of the unlucky ones standing that day. You remembered how you had to get on your knees and mumbling apologies that fell on deaf ears just to get your papers back in your hands. Even more so you felt embarrassed as one stranger grabbed a full fist of them and shoved them on you.

You didn’t catch who it was, but you faintly remembered scars on their hands and you raised your head to see who it was. And no one with scars in their hands seemed to be in sight. Maybe they left abruptly as soon as the train stopped.

But despite the wrinkles on the paper and leaving you mad all day, you were thankful they were all there. And thankful to the stranger who bothered to help when no one else could…

………………………………………………………………………….

Making sure you had everything in your worn out duffle bag, from your lunch, extra pencils, and some other miscellaneous item, and a last minute check of your face by the mirror, you hurried out of your apartment.

You were greeted by the warm morning sunshine glaring down at you, and you responded to it with a little smile. For a second you fumbled with the keys as you locked the door and then quickly moved down the brittle metal stairs, feeling the wind blowing your still showered head.

Some of the neighbors that stood outside their lawns mowing the grass greeted you and you automatically greeted back, quickly picking up more speed on your footing to avoid conversation. They were all very friendly and who had noticed you new and fresh to the neighborhood. But even so you couldn’t help but notice a couple of them stare at you with a feeling of uncomfortable interest. For now as they didn’t say or do anything out of line, you were safe.

You crossed the streets with a little jog as the pedestrian light turned white with the little person, eyeing the cars almost with a suspicion never knowing if they suddenly moved an inch of their car. You made it safely, continuing to jog to the station just about 5 minutes left from where you were.

The morning was still early, but Houston jumbled and rumbled with life. You could hear the distant drilling of concrete from a construction site, the vendors preparing their carts with a sizzle of their grills, and kids goofing past you on their way to school. Today seemed to be a good one, and you clenched your duffle bag close to you with the faith on set.

7:45 A.M. and finally you arrived on time at the station. Out of breath you leaned on a post to calm down your racing heart and gulped cool air to your lungs. You ignored the people next to you staring at you oddly and took your time breathing (maybe even exaggerating just for your own amusement.) As if breathing wasn’t normal, good god.

But you pulled out your wallet, lining up behind a couple people as they stood in front of a machine that gave them their ticket depending on the train they were to aboard.

The METROrail was a system you had difficulty understanding at first, figuring out the routes and time through trial and error. It took a while but overtime you got into routine and it became familiar to you. You were young, but old enough to remember something that big made you proud. You could have bought a pass sure, but there were METRO police officers who usually got on board the train and checked either way if you truly got on. No one could be sure.

But you were going to take your usual. “The Red Line” as the station coined it was a more popular route that took everyone to the main destinations in the important parts of Houston tourist attraction. Hence the morning train being full of people. The train passed by districts, medical centers, museums, etc with ease.

In fact a museum, you worked in one to anyone’s shock. To be more precise the Museum of Fine Arts as a tour guide to youth and anyone who cared.

As soon as you got your ticket in hand and waited by the sideline, you flipped your wrist to check the time on your watch.

8:00 A.M. Where was that—ah.

At last the train arrived in all its glory, breaks making that familiar soft screech on the pavement. The doors opened with a swift movement with the cool air of a running AC inside. You realized how suddenly the weather outside must have gotten hot already, the sun now burning on the back of your body.

You waited a few moments, politely letting a group of ladies with children and a man in a wheelchair get on first. Eventually it was your turn, getting on with ticket in hand and small stepping a bit behind people. Once on board your first instinct was to find a seat. And what do you know.

A seat.

You sat your bum immediately down, a silent cheer of happiness as you completed the first part of your morning with no trouble. Well your face showed a smile and a hint of smugness as you eyed those standing. Even better your seat was right close to the exit. You let yourself relax on the seat, the chill of the AC cooling you.

And then you were off.

………………………………………………………………………….

Whenever you boarded the light rail train, you kept to yourself. You liked talking, but most of your conversations seemed to end abruptly or fade once the other person drifted off. You once tried engaging in a conversation with a man next to you asking for helpful survival tips when you were new to Houston, but he waved a hand saying a mere

“Sorry, I’m just not feeling it today. Bother someone else okay?”

And you did. But the same thing happened, you might as well you quit trying and figure it out yourself. Sometimes you went back to that thought: If any of your parents lived with you, would things be simpler? Maybe. That way they’d immediately get their answers from connections and some sort of extroverted communication to anyone. They were good at that sort of thing.

You sighed, brushing that thought away. Now you were bored.

For fun you did one of the few: checked your phone to read the latest pointless celebrity gossip, the weather, politics, your messages, just adult stuff. Or you observed the people who rode the train with you, different or new. You weren’t afraid to think you had favorites. Of course you did.

There was a elderly woman in her mid 60’s who smiled to herself as she read an absurdly erotic novel with the typical hot, young, hair shoulder length blonde cowboy on the cover carrying a pretty woman in his strong muscles. Oh and shirtless too, how can you forget. The woman was a regular, often waving at you occasionally as she saw you but never engaged in conversation. Sometimes you picked up a heavy scent of vanilla? Jasmine? Well she reminded you of your mom somehow.

Then there was a wannabe DJ, a young man in his early 20’s sitting in between two men with newspapers in hand, as he jammed his head to a tune in his headphones. You often saw him chatting out loud as he bothered a stranger next to him about the plans of becoming a musician and tried showing off his set. And you felt bad as the rest on the train argued with him to silence his instrument. But you admired his determination.

And finally… him.

He sat alone in a corner, a heavy serious expression on his face as he snoozed. A rather buffed guy in his late 20’s you assumed. His arms were crossed, stretching the material of his black sweater in small wrinkles and you wondered what had him so bothered. Or was he like that already?

You stared at him a little more, watching his sleeping figure lean onto the wall, his gloved hand coming up to scratch his stubble alongside his jaw. You don’t remember if he was there the first time you rode the train but if he was you did feel somewhat upset never to notice him.

A man with shaved growing brown hair, you thought he rocked in it so well unlike most. You could tell he was very tired, noticing dark circles forming around his eyes. Perhaps he took the train home, maybe working at night as he was always here hours before you. Sometimes he didn’t ride at all. For someone so young, he seemed to have seen worse days. His face changed every time you saw him. Either he was covered in dried up blood near his lip, a swollen bruise under his left eye, or a bunch of unicorn themed bandages stuck unevenly on his face. What did stay the same were a few peppered scars across his face. You felt yourself start smiling.

He’s really handsome.

You shifted in your seat as your brain whispered that confession, even glancing at him to see if he may have read your mind. As if. But his injuries left you concerned all the time, the urge to ask him if he was okay stayed on your tongue. Did he not have anyone to tell him anything at home? A family? A…significant other? Nope, better not start getting there. Your thoughts moved on trying to take in another thing from him. Standing out to you as amusing was something in his expression as he slept.

He frowned in his sleep. Almost pouting, as his bottom lip jutted out a little and his dark thick eyebrows knitted together. Not many people frowned from your knowledge, so you’d always ask yourself what he was thinking. And he gave you the vibe that he was intimidating. The clothes he usually wore weren’t, just a simple black leather jacket or sweater, a plain t-shirt of any color underneath and blue weathered out jeans with work boots. His hands were covered in leathered gloves, and you didn’t piece together a reason. It was summertime, the worst time to wear gloves at all. Unless it was for a job? He did look like he worked hard for a living. Yet the opinion didn’t stick the same for others. Most of the time the people standing stared at him with unease and maintained a distance away from him. Like if he were some sort of thug.

He just slept peacefully. And you liked that.

You wondered if he knew this was common for him. To be seen in some sort of inferior way. You shook your head, knowing you were assuming way too much.

Never once have you made a move to talk with him, unsure if he’ll take it in a friendly way. You always wanted to, sometimes lingering your stare on his sleeping form way too much for the sake of moving. The questions always burning with curiosity. Butterflies always formed in your stomach whenever you rode the train, taking a seat near or far from him. You were always daydreaming what would have happened you were lucky enough to sit next to him. However they weren’t good ones. The what-if’s filled your mind

What if he doesn’t like me already?

What if he gets annoyed that I talked to him first?

What if I’m the reason he stops riding this train?

The thoughts were loud in your head, making you clutch your bag with a nervous swallow. And suddenly the weight of stupidity fell on you.

You weren’t anyone to anyone here on this train. Much less to him. You didn’t know each other. You didn’t understand why it mattered to you.

You were both strangers on this train.

Traveling to a destination that drops you off without much of a beat.

DING!

Your thoughts were broken when the train stopped. Was it your stop already? Your head turned upwards towards the little sign on the doorway that indicated the stop. And the robotic voice of the announcement made itself clear.

No… it wasn’t yours. It was his.

Both your eyes met as he finally awoke and briefly seemed to take in your presence from across the cart. You felt yourself freeze and unable to look away, blood rushing from your neck to your ears. Your heart thrummed excitedly and yet terrified against your chest. He just simply blinked and the corner of his lip made a funny jump pulling back. You couldn’t tell what that meant but his deep brown eyes seemed to tell another story.

Like they said, “Fuck off.”

He reached down his seat, pulling out a backpack of sorts and slung it over his shoulder. There was another thing that always impressed you when he stood.

It was his height.

Good grief… He practically towered everyone here. What was he? 6’2? 6’4? Whatever he did for a job must have been easy with a height like that. No doubt it made you feel small. The only con there was for him unfortunately the ceiling of the train itself. He needed to duck his head just by an inch to get out. You weren’t sure what the average height for a person in Houston but whatever it was certainly did not meet his standards.

He stood up from his seat, moving towards the exit that happened to be next to you.

Oh no.

To your silent panic, the door was being stalled by the man from the wheelchair, a train assistant putting down the accessible ramp for him. That wasn’t a problem, no it was okay. Just the fact he was now lingering next to you as he waited to exit, your knees almost touching his leg.

You lowered your eyes to your duffel bag on your lap, playing mindlessly with the pins of popular bands you loved. You could feel his stares looking down at your head, and you didn’t want to look up. Oh my god why did this have to happen…?

But eventually the group of people who were waiting for the whole process to finish began to move. His legs disappeared from your sight in front of you, now moving to the exit.

The doors closed, and now your stop was on its way. You didn’t want to look back. But you did. You looked behind you from out the window, and as the train moved, saw the back of his figure walking away from the station. Head down with his legs producing smooth strides as he shoved his hands in his pockets. Even his hips swayed a little.

Huh. He had some sass to his walk.

You returned to your original position in your seat, exhaling a breath you didn’t know you held. Was it really that scary? Hell yeah it was.

Some impression you made there. Must have been a pain for both of you, but much more for him. Your thoughts kept drifting back to his eyes. They held so much intensity you could tell they judged you in some way, silently looking for a reason to even bother looking at you at all.

Was it personal? Did he actually seem to show some interest in you or was it nothing? Whatever it was, you chose not to assume immediately. He just seemed like he had a bad day. That’s all…

Time passed by so quickly, you arrived to your stop in no time. The Museum District. And off the train went as you left the station. From there you kept grounding a simple reminder:

Stop overthinking, overreacting, you are a damn adult! That’s kid stuff!

You grind your teeth, as you climbed the steps to the Museum and opened the door to enter.

But one thing was clear. One thing you finally understood from this whole thing of complicated absurdity. It wasn’t even hard. You just simply refused to accept it.

You entered the locker room, placed your bag inside and pulled out your ID card. Closing the locker door you made your way outside the room to start your day. As you exit, you swung the door closed with a rough slam to it.

Admit it will you?

You sighed.

You had a crush on this stranger.

⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴

11/18/23

Hey… thanks for reading this :)

I don’t know if I’ll put out another chapter, but we’ll see okay? Bye.

Edit: Chapter 2 is up

—-LonelySucker7

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siblingshowdown · 1 year

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YUNMENG TRIO PROPAGANDA!!!!!

I promise as the moderator of this competition I won’t campaign for any specific sibling sets after this but I cannot let my faves Jiang Yanli, Wei Wuxian, and Jiang Cheng lose in the first round when they were seeded pretty high.

For context, here is who I’m talking about:

Look at those babies!

The Yunmeng Trio are three siblings from the book Mo Dao Zu Shi or the TV show The Untamed. They consist of oldest sister Jiang Yanli, middle adopted brother Wei Wuxian, and youngest brother Jiang Cheng. Their relationship is crucial to the story, as it follows Wei Wuxian and his dynamic with both siblings (but especially Jiang Cheng) influences a lot of his decisions, which in turn influences a lot of the state of the world they live in as a whole.

Could these siblings win a physical fight against other sibling sets? YES. Jiang Cheng is a very skill swordsman and has a magic lightning whip. Wei Wuxian invented a new kind of magic and by and large is super overpowered (can take on hundreds of people at a time due to his ability to control ghosts/corpses/harness resentful energy). Yanli, while not much of a physical fighter, can easily win over anyone’s heart with the power of soup. (Seriously, in the book it lists her weapons as “love and soup”) Everyone loves her, especially her brothers, which lowkey makes her an extremely powerful character because they’d do anything for her.

Do these siblings have sibling swag? YES. They bicker! Especially WWX and JC. Yanli loves to make her brothers soup and they always argue over who has the bigger portion! They have inside jokes! JC and WWX are always nitpicking at each other but will not allow anyone else to do so! They’re all traumatized by their parents in different ways and therefore lean on each other and are unhealthily codependent because of it! Whenever one of the brothers goes off by himself Yanli always asks the other one to go bring him back, and when she couldn’t do that she waded out into an active battlefield to try to find them!

Do they love each other? YES. “We are the closest three in the world.” Jiang Cheng sacrificing himself so Wei Wuxian doesn’t get taken hostage. Wei Wuxian convincing his friend to perform ethically dubious and extremely dangerous surgery on him to try to get Jiang Cheng back to 100%. The sole time Yanli loses her temper in the show, it’s because people are yelling at Wei Wuxian and not showing him respect! She wore her wedding outfit when she and Jiang Cheng went to visit Wei Wuxian in exile because he wouldn’t be able to be at her actual wedding and she wanted him to see it! Jiang Cheng suggested that Yanli let Wei name her son! That scene made me cry no joke!

Are they interesting? YES. I just described how much they love each other but the show actually begins with us seeing Jiang Cheng supposedly kill Wei before we jump back in time, so you know they have some intense emotional arcs going on! Wei Wuxian was adopted when he and JC were around 6, and his status as an insanely talented and amazing cultivator plays really interestingly with the fact that his younger brother will be clan leader because WWX isn’t in the bloodline, and that influences JC immensely because in a way he has to deal with some of the worst parts of being a younger sibling while also having to deal with things an older sibling would otherwise have to. Once Wei starts doing big plot things and becomes Public Enemy Number 1, JC and Yanli have to be careful with how they navigate the political world while trying to rebuild their clan and navigate an engagement that could unite their clan with a much more powerful one, but they still try to protect their brother. Bodies start dropping. They’re all traumatized over various events that occur before they’re even fully adults. They make me feel so many emotions it’s not even funny.

tldr: I love them. please don’t let them lose in the first round please just give them this they’ve suffered enough.

#to clarify they were seeded high because they got one of the highest number of nominations #so for the race to be so close...... i KNOW there's time for the tides to change but i'm WORRIED #propaganda

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bearsbeetsbeskar · 8 months

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stupid personal life highschool bs drama?

idk if it is the fact that I am getting my period soon, or that there it gets dark by 6pm now, but I've been feeling so meh and low and unmotivated. for what feels like, absolutely no reason?

I'm dealing with personal drama from a best friend I have had since highschool (let's call her B), who has seen me through thick and thin, and it's honestly so draining. B and I have been saying for months that we are going to go visit my other highschool best friend who moved two hours away from us (let's call her S), (we're basically the three amigos). I have gone to visit 'S' many times before, made the drive up to go see her handful of times without 'B' because she was not available or always busy. well, I went to go visit 'S' this past weekend and posted on social media (cause it's my life and I can), and 'B' messaged me, basically attacking me and ripping me apart for going to visit our other friend.

For context, 'B' and I had last texted about going to visit this friend in August, and the dates just weren't working, the last message from B was suggesting 'what about October?' I didn't end up replying to that text cause, well, life happens. My mom started radiation and I was gearing up to begin grad school, so it was the furthest thing from my mind, and B and I texted about other things since then. When I posted the pics from my visit with S this past weekend, B called me out and texted me being like 'thanks for the invite, you know I wanted to go with you.' I got defensive because why is it my responsibility to keep messaging her and providing dates that don't work for her? I told her she doesn't have the right to make me feel bad about going to visit S, and that she could have also texted S about coming to visit her. Cue B calling me a bad friend, a bitch, condescending, telling me that I have my head in my ass and a bunch of other shit. To which I say, it isn't that serious?

She refused to see my point of view and kept going on her tirade, saying I was talking down to her like she was dumb or didn't know how to make plans of her own. I honestly don't know what got into her but she was acting psychotic. And I'm sick of getting the brunt of it and having to justify myself and my actions. We're all adults, we can make plans without needing approval from one another, like ?????

This is just a rant at this point but I'm pretty fucking hurt and upset that my so called friend from highschool days would go to such lengths to attack me. And by the sounds of it she doesn't regret lashing out like that. Anyone who knows me in my personal life knows that if you cross me, you'll never hear from me again, cause I don't do second chances and I absolutely do not hesitate to cut people off who have hurt me. I'll be really sad if a 12 year friendship ends over something so small and trivial as this but I'm at the point in my life where if you come at me with any sort of hostile energy you better prepare to deal with the other side of Nicole that comes out.

#what was the point of this #nothing honestly #I am almost 30 I don't do bs petty drama like this

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ladycatashtrophe · 4 months

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Don't give up on libraries!

I often become saddened when thinking about how my hometown's library, the one I visited religiously and adored as a child, lost a lot of its magic when I returned as an adult to find it run by snotty, uppity rich people who would sigh and roll their eyes whenever you asked for help, or would ooze with a nasty attitude when you asked them to please not shout at each other from across the floor about mass shootings in the silent area with children present, please.

Regardless, it's a sad day when a library loses its way. I think that's why more people need to use libraries, and use them properly.

If you can, get a library card. There are various state libraries that participate in the Books Unbanned initiative, allowing youths under the age of 26 to obtain an e-Card, which they can then use on the library catalogue and apps like Libby, Hoopla, and more.

If you're able to go to a library in person, ask the librarians or receptionists what kinds of events they hold within your interests/age group. Check out books that you might not read. If your friends want to hang out, suggest the local library as a nice neutral space (be mindful of certain areas of the library that may be silent or intended for children or people with special needs). If your library offers aid with basic needs, such as a food pantry or clothing donation system, utilize it and share the info with friends and family. If your library has things other than books and movies for checkout, such as free Wi-Fi hotspots, power tools, laptops, cooking utensils, board games, video games, etc., use those offerings to your advantage. Does your library offer help with resume writing, job applications, childcare, sanitary products, tutoring, homework, or any other things that may slip through the cracks? Is your library in need of donations within a certain genre or audience range? Would your library appreciate volunteers in their free time, either throughout the year or at special events?

My library may have gone cold and heartless over the years, but it is up to the community to prevent that from happening by supporting the library as much as humanly possible. You don't need money to prove that you love and use your library (that's the whole point), but if you have the spare change, consider donating. Nobody is too poor or too rich to use a library. The issue arises when those of an advantageous position abuse their resources until others below them are left with nothing.

Libraries fill an important gap in society. In order to keep them there, they have to have the numbers to prove their worth; How many people have active library cards? How many people show up per day on average? What items are being checked out regularly? What is attendance like at events? They are the glue between the cracks; without them, everything would shatter.

Advocate for your local library. Encourage others to utilize theirs. Don't give up on libraries!

Further sources: Neil Gaiman speech on the important of libraries (article)

The role of libraries (article)

Mychal the librarian (article)

TEDx: The Magic of Libraries (video)

TEDx: The library is not a place, it's a concept (video)

Cat for your troubles (he is angry because you have not gone to the library)

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welcome-to-oslov · 6 months

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Alright, sorry to be your ask box penpal this week, but I'm just such an Oslov superfan & binge reading so I have too many thoughts to share 😂.

Last ones: I'm Brazilian but have lived in America half my life (15 years). Just got home to visit São Paulo and it's helping me understand Gersha and the other not-evil-but-complicit characters better. As you may know, we have extreme inequality in Brazilian society. São Paulo's an amazing city with tons of upper social class & rich powerful people. However our lifestyle as upper class people is dependent on there being a huge class of poor people locked out of opportunity with no choice but to learn deference and work as low-paid servants. For example, a live-in nanny who cares for children of well-off families like a second mother, while her own children go without mothering far away. Young people from the impoverished northeast brought to the big cities for "opportunity" that are really just exploitative domestic labor.

Many of us know this feels wrong... yet so many of my class hate politicians whose policies haved lifted many out of poverty - and suddenly the price of maids double and poor kids can get into the excellent universities only WE'd been able to attend. This felt like a threat to our very existence. Many of us performatively talk about social justice & how it's wrong that only WE have power & opportunity, but the few of our peers who actually do something about it do feel threatening.

Of course thankfully we don't have this institionalized crazy kettle boy system, and mistreated maids drivers etc can easily quit & find another shitty job no problem. But, those who are really trapped are a mistreated son or daughter children of an upper class family. Every well-off family has someone who holds all the money & power: a father, uncle, or grandfather. As upper class kids we are supported by our families till ~25 because even it's not possible to launch your young adult life without family money; due to social divisions, you can't go out & get a teen/college kid job like in America, your friends all live at home too you can't really go move with them, the best university is going to be in your home city, and even good entry-level grad jobs at corporations don't really start paying enough till you're older since they figure you're paying your dues while your family patriarch supports you. If that patriarch is or was abusing you, you wouldn't have many clear ways out.

So how does a guy or girl in a bad situation get out? You get married young (20, 21, 22, etc.). Once you're married you're considered an adult: your wealthy family buys you two a starter condo, jobs might give you a raise, etc. You can divorce later, but getting that spouse gives you protection & distance & resources. Ofc easier for a girl to take this route, but a guy too could get a rich daddy's girl he knows at their nice school to marry him & insist her father set them up with young married life if his family drags their feet (though generally even an abusive patriarch would play ball here & realize he's been beat, otherwise he looks bad socially). I've seen this scenario play out with a couple of friends.

Which... basically is Tilrey's escape. He realizes he has an opportunity in Gersha & he goes for it, out of desperation to escape, genuine relief at finding someone nice he can live with & be his ally as he breaks free, etc 😢🙏

(Speaking of Tilrey & Brazil, what do you think of my casting suggestion post?! Hahahaha :) I have such a crush, but c'mon, he's gorgeous!)

I'm here for your thoughts any time! And I know very little about Brazil, so that's a fascinating comparison! Especially the parts about family structure and how young upper-class people might need to marry to establish their independence. That reminds me of 18th- and 19th-century Europe, which was a big influence on Oslov because I've read a ton of novels from that period. Extreme inequality was a factor there, too, and patronage was the main way of advancing in society, which increases both corruption and the power of family elders. There are a lot of stories about people (always women) being trafficked and forced into sex work, but then turning that into a source of power because of their sheer beauty. Of course we have widening inequality in the U.S. too, and connections seem more and more important, and many people are resistant to any form of redistribution. So I wonder if we're headed in the same direction, which scares me. Especially since there are tech billionaires who would definitely justify that as "meritocracy."

He is totally gorgeous! :)

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autisticsupervillain · 4 months

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It's Fictional Throwdown Friday!

This Week's Fighters...

Phoenix Wright vs Freddy Fazbear

Conditions:

Canon Phoenix vs FNAF 1 Freddy

Scenario:

Phoenix Wright begins investigating the disappearances around Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Fearing a lawsuit, Fazbear Entertainment drops Freddy Fazbear off at his house to kill him.

Analysis: Freddy Fazbear

There's just something inherently creepy about animatronics, isn't there? The robust movements, the soulless glassy eyes, the same damn songs they sing over and over. It always feels like they're planning something. Take a night shift at Freddy's and you'll learn exactly what.

Young Gabriel was an innocent young child, eagerly visiting Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria during the 1980s. He, as well as several of his friends, was approached by an animatronic none of them had seen before, a golden bunny mascot from an era too long ago for most of them to remember. The man inside the suit lured the children away to the back rooms and killed them, stuffing their bodies into the animatronic suits to hide his crime.

William Afton was the man behind this slaughter. William was a mad scientist out to study the effects of Remnant, the material that souls are made of, in order to use it to obtain immortality. To this end, he used the pizzeria he and his business partner, Casey Emily, founded as a hunting ground, trying to see if he could hypothetically trap his soul inside of an animatronic body. The slaughter was a complete success and young Gabriel soon reawoke inside the body of his idol, Freddy Fazbear.

Freddy is far more capable that his status as a decades old animatronic might suggest. For starters, he's easily far stronger than any normal human being, capable of easily crushing skulls, either between his teeth or by stuffing people into animatronic suits. Such a feat of strength would require 500 kilograms of force, or 4903 joules.

Source: https://archive.ph/6baPW

Not to mention the inhuman abilities granted to him by his undead status. Remnant has been shown to be capable of passively causing illusions and hallucinations in any human who interacts with it. This is what explains the various illusions and hallucinations seen all throughout the several game installments, though I will admit that this is only confirmed in the books and only really implied in the games. However, the books opporate on the standard of "canon to the games until proven otherwise", so I'll count it. Especially as other characters, such as Springtrap, are shown to explicitly be capable of causing illusions in the form of Phantoms. Though, I won't be granting Freddy invisibility, or any other powers he has in Special Delivery, as those models are seperate characters to Freddy himself.

What's more, he's a lot more clever than any undead child has any right to be. He has a methodology to eliminating night guards, you see. He'll spend the first three nights carefully studying them, never stepping off stage as Bonnie and Chica go on the offensive. Then, once he has the nightguard figured out, he works specifically to counter them. He hides in the shadows more effectively than his compatriots do and never leaves the guard's door once he gets there, angling to make them run out of power. Freddy can move from one side of the Pizzeria to the other in an instant, with only his taunting laugh signifying he's around at all. His clever tactics have been the end of many an unfortunate night guard.

Though that does lead into Freddy's biggest problem. Even with a criminal database installed directly into him, Freddy simply can't recognize an adult as anything other than the man who killed him. Though night guards may be his usual prey, Freddy and co have even been known to attack people during the day, hense the ever mysterious Bite of 87. Freddy may be a murderous robot, but he's still Gabriel. He's a confused, scared, traumatized child. And that certainly isn't helped by remnant's main weakness: fire. Lighting an animatronic on fire is the go to method for banishing the spirit inside from the body, purging the remnant from the robot's systems as well as likely destroying the robot. Destroy an animatronic any other way, however, and you'll just create an even bigger problem.

While Gabriel is mostly restricted by his robot body's programming, unable to go to areas it isn't programmed to interact with for instance, that restriction disappears if his body is destroyed. William Afton learned that the hard way, when he destroyed Freddy's body, he just freed Gabriel of his restrictions, allowing the dead children to finally take their revenge. William was forced to hide inside his old golden bunny suit to escape his victims, only for the suit to malfunction and crush him to death, finally granting Gabriel his happiest day.

Analysis: Phoenix Wright

Have you been accused of a crime you didn't commit? Have you fallen victim the world's most convoluted murder frame up? Would the only witness testimony that could save your case happen to come from a parrot? Then call the Wright Anything Agency! Most prestigious law firm this side of Japan Los Angeles, USA! ....If not necessarily the most prestigious.

In a legal system even more comically biased against defendants than the actual Japanese legal system, Phoenix Wright is the only man who can prove that you didn't do it! With his trusty psychic assistant Maya by his side, he'll craft the most obsurd scenario imaginable to prove you didn't do it and somehow be right. The defendant's an orca? Certainly. The killer was a ghost? Absolutely! And he'll pull the evidence out of his ass to prove it!

Naturally, a lawyer who famously bluffs his way to victory, isn't exactly seen as the most prestigious. But that doesn't change the fact that he's unarguably one of the best. For all of his bumbling, Phoenix is deadly sharp when he wants to be. He solved a fifteen year old cold case with help from a parrot and a metal detector, tricked the chief of police into confessing on the stand, caught an international spy who could dusguise himself as anyone, and defeated a prosecutor whose never seen a Not Guilty verdict in fifty years.

But when his rapid improvisation gets him nowhere, Nick always has the Magatama on hand. This gift from the psychic Fey family allows him to detect when a person is lying, manifesting a Psyche Locks visible only to him. Phoenix must then break these locks by presenting proof that they're lying, though wording snags can fool the Magatama and using it improperly can destroy Nick's soul if he isn't careful. If Wright can't prove that the witness is lying, then he'll have to back out for his own safety and come back with more evidence.

But, to be honest, I'm not convinced that even that would kill Phoenix. The man's practically superhuman. He's survived getting whipped into unconsciousness, being tazed and pummeled by some of his suspects, falling through a burning bridge from 40 feet, and even being hit and sent flying by a speeding car! A car moving at that speed would've hit him with an energy of 905,735 joules.

Source:

And that's coming from a guy strong enough to break open locked doors with his bare hands.

No matter how air tight the case against you might be, Phoenix will find whose actually responsible. And survive all their attempts to kill him.

Throwdown Theme:

youtube

Throwdown Breakdown:

I think Phoenix takes this one fairly simply.

He's 181x more durable than what Freddy can dish out, making it extremely difficult for Freddy to do any lasting damage, and I think Nick's smart enough to realize what he's dealing with here. He'd recognize the smell of a corpse and blood emanating from Freddy and he's dealt with enough supernatural stuff to recognize a ghost when he sees one. From there, it's a question of incapacitation. While Phoenix isn't superhumanly strong enough to hurt Freddy, he can still short out Freddy with a glass of water from the fridge.

Now he just needs to get Gabriel to testify on the stand and William will go to jail for sure. Slam dunk case.

This Throwdown's Winner is...

Phoenix Wright!

#fictional throwdown fridays #phoenix wright #ace attorney #five nights at freddy's #freddy fazbear #Youtube

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circlemidnight · 1 year

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Wait, how many writers are on Riverdale that have different ideas? I think that's why this show was always so messy. One writer likes film noirs, the other likes criminal detective shows, this one likes romance, that one likes abstract, that one - horror, and so on. So, every episode feels like different fanfictions by different authors put together for the same content. I mean, Riverdale is kinda already a canonical fanfiction of Archie Comics, right?

But the point is, that's why the characters are off most of the time; and storylines are inconsistent. The writers don't know how to work together and pay attention to each other's writing and previous storylines. I mean, I get it, maybe you don't like Jeronica, but that one writer already wrote them that specific way in 7x04, so, at least give them a proper reconciliation or something so everything that happened between them makes sense. And you mentioned that Jughead was off, and someone else said that Veronica was, too, so I'm not crazy, right? There is clear inconsistency in stories, and also clear inability to work together in the writers' room.

Oh yeah you are not crazy! There has always been a lack of quality and consistency within the writing over the years. Things like forgotten continuity, building up drama and then skipping the fallout, and then of course different writers like different characters more so they give them the quippy dialogue, the best moments, the most screentime per episode etc. Add in actor demands and you basically get a too many cooks situation that is poorly managed and no one really working as a team. It's part of a larger problem for sure, like if you are shuffling through writers every season, each writer has only one or two episodes, and new writers might not even have watched the whole show beforehand, so what's their investment? It's why people find it more rewarding to read fanfic, or they try and scope out which writers seem to be the most pliable and suggestive. Like we want to trust the authors, we want them to be reliable, and instead it's a roll of a dice whether the characters will get the good plot or the satisfying conclusion or even a single breadcrumb. And that's just not how storytelling should be? I don't think it's a secret that the seasons are poorly planned out either, Ras has admitted as much, I mean even this season is the last season they will ever write and it's all been filler. Where's the plot? And there's just other icky things going on. Not handling the serious topics of the era with the right gravitas, sidelining those characters who would have the most important story to tell. Weird things like Jughead saying that they are themselves in their adult bodies but think they are teens, except they are hooking up with what I assume are real teens from 50s Riverdale. But yeah for a season that is back to basics about high school drama, there is no follow through, like Jughead and Ethel were friends, but he doesn't try to visit her anymore, and isn't he supposed to be friends with Archie too? And yet he's more distraught over offending his hero and tries to make it up to him instead of retaining his other relationships. You would think Veronica's words would keep him up at night, but instead he gets to go about his life as an oblivious misogynistic writer I guess?? No resolution??? And credit to Cami because she's working over time to express all the unsaid things her character is feeling that the writers probably forgot about.

The show hides behind memes about how bad or goofy it is, instead of addressing any of the serious problems it has. And I think it's gonna age really badly because of it.

#jeronica #jughead x veronica #ask cm

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theautisticgamer · 11 months

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What Lego Sonic Sets Could We See in the Future?

Out of the dozens of ideas I had for my comeback article, Lego certainly wasn’t one of them, yet here we are, because we’re finally getting 5 official Lego Sonic sets in less than three weeks (August 2023) and all I’ve been thinking about are which ones I should buy. So to take a break from that, what about thinking about what sets we could and should be able to buy in the future?

I feel like more Sonic “Speed Sphere” sets are inevitable, it is a great gimmick for kids to play with. With Chemical Plant Zone and Studiopolis Zone already being in other Sonic toy sets, I feel like Speed Sphere sets based on these zones are highly likely. City Escape could be another great choice with the steep slopes and getting to build small buildings. But I’m more interested in sets of locations in the series, so let’s move on.

I think an absolute must for the next set is an Angel Island set with a Knuckles minifigure. This would have to be a smaller version of the island, such as version we saw in Sonic Adventure, but the island itself with the Master Emerald, its shrine, and the Knuckles figure to guard it would be cool, maybe one or two palm trees for it and a sand-colored trim would look nice but they’re not necessary. Clear poles to hold up Angel Island since it floats would be great for shelf-display purposes.

I’d say a set with Shadow and Rouge minifigures with an Omega brick-build character is another necessary one akin to the Angel Island set, but this trio of anti-heroes doesn’t really have a base or an iconic setting piece. However, since sets from the first wave included jet skis and hoverboards, Shadow’s motorcycle could be included. If SEGA or Lego don’t have a location in mind either, sell this set as it is with a lower price tag such as $25. It would be a mistake not to include these minifigures in the line-up in some way or form.

If we ever get more Eggman sets, additional minifigures that should be included are Metal Sonic and Orbot to go with the Cubot one that’s coming out in the first wave.

I feel like the Chao Garden from Sonic Adventure 2 would be an excellent choice. Despite being a small sandbox, it is extremely iconic and so many people would love this on their shelves. The first Lego Sonic set wave included play pieces for Amy Rose to take care of animal critters, so why not have a Chao set with similar themes? That would make this a great set for kids and adults alike. I’m not sure what minifigure should be included with this set, however. Cream is a possible suggestion, plus she’s not from Sonic Adventure 2, but I already have a set in mind for her. Despite it not being a logical fit, perhaps Silver could be in this set because there isn’t a otherwise reasonable set for him to be a part of and he does have a tenderhearted nature.

A set with Cream and Vanilla’s house could be cool, with Cream and Blaze minifigures (unfortunately Vanilla may not sell well) and brick-build version of Gemerl as an additional character. While this place exists in Sonic Rush we never get to see it there, however the IDW Comics are considered canon to the videogame lore and Cream’s house is a frequent place to visit. Sonic and his friends seem to stop by there often, and Blaze usually makes sure to visit Cream when she comes from her own dimension. It is also worth mentioning Blaze should be in this set since she’d likely not have a set of her own. Cream’s two chao, Cheese and Chocola, should be included also.

Continuing with even less likely possibilities, a Chaotix Detectives set would be nice. Similar to the Team Dark set with Shadow/Rouge/Omega, it could just be a smaller set for the sake of adding minifigures of the characters, but they did run their detective agency in their house in both the IDW Comics and Sonic X, and it’s not out of the question to include their home as a building similar to Tails’s workshop in the set. Trinkets in the house could include Vector’s desk and a phone/fax machine, missing posters, and an assortment of Ninja gadgets for Espio.

Even less likely, though I don’t feel that this is impossible, is a set of the Resistance/Restoration bunker from Sonic Forces and the comics, with minifigures of the comic characters that make up the new Diamond Cutters (Whisper, Tangle, Lanolin). The biggest problem with this is that not everyone reads comics. Whisper and Tangle already appeared as playable characters in Sonic Dash though, with Tangle being acknowledged as a canon character in Sonic Frontiers. Whisper and Tangle even had plush toys made by GE for their popularity. I believe the possibility/probability of this set strictly hinges on if the Diamond Cutters ever make it into one of the next games, as there isn’t enough widespread knowledge of these characters to a casual audience to justify a set like this as of now.

Honestly, even the Cream’s house set and the Chaotix Detective Agency set would hinge on similar factors. But I do believe it is possible that Lego would be willing to take such risks because of how many characters they’ve included in their Super Mario branded sets. If Lego was willing to go into obscure territory with various enemies and The Koopalings, they may be willing to do the same for Sonic if sales prove it to be worth the risk.

So while it’s a cheesy way to end the article, the best thing you can do to make any of these sets a reality is buying one or more of the new ones releasing August 1st, 2023. What sets would you love to see appear for the next waves of Lego Sonic? Please share your thoughts in the comments, because I genuinely love talking with the Sonic community.

#sega #sonic the hedgehog #video games #sonic team #sonic #sonic characters #lego sonic #lego builds #makelegosonicmoreeggman

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modifiedyincision · 1 year

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Hi I am going around to everyone who reblogged that post with tags: please use this ask as an excuse to ramble about your ocs I want to hear about them

I had to sit on this one for a while because I just have so. Many. OCs. So I had to think about it! I'm settling on Skylar (and his friends I suppose, but mostly him), even though his story is still a bit nebulous, because I love him. Everything is below the cut to avoid me flooding dashes! It also gets ramble-y. You have been warned.

So Skylar (and his story/world) comes directly from a dream I had three years ago, in which I was Skylar. I really liked the main chunk of it, but as it is a dream, connecting everything coherently has been a hassle. If something sounds a bit off, that's... likely why. Anyway!

Skylar, unhappy with his old life, decides to completely ditch it. He stops by a small town and, desperate for friends, is willing to hang out with pretty much anyone that will give him the time of day.

Three people, a preexisting friend group, start talking to him. There are three others -- Andrew (name change possibly pending. Not sure that I vibe with it), Garrett, and Lillian. It isn't long before he finds himself getting swept up in their demon-cult-rumors, because this group recently found a half-ruined journal detailing a lot of weird ass shit. And, also, there's some unexplainable shit going on down in the hills.

They suggest checking it out.

Skylar buys exactly none of it, but he goes along with it anyway for that sweet, sweet human connection.

Now, the group decides to visit a 'ritual site.' A large, 5'x5' square of flat rock pressed a bit into the earth, with a red rune carved into it, slapped into the center of wild hills and forest.

They do the stupid young adult thing, which is to consult the journal for the ritual, which they then do.

Now, listen, the way the demons and rituals work is a bit convoluted because I'm trying to translate it from nonsense dream systems, and I don't really think this is something that can be skipped over or it all ceases to make any sense.

To make it simple: demons need to be summoned into a 'vessel' (a human) to get to Earth. But one ritual isn't enough, and it only partially binds a demon to the vessel and Earth. Five total rituals need to be completed for the demon to be fully tied to Earth and the vessel. These rituals increase in severity with each one, and each ritual requires a specific site to work. But, even with all rituals finished, the demon still relies heavily on the vessel to keep it in line. And not, like, killing everything.

If a vessel dies with a demon attached, the demon is released into the world. A few things can happen:

If it was the first ritual, little occurs. The demon is intangible and unable to interact meaningfully with the world. It can barely move at all, in fact. Imagine if your arm, just your arm, got teleported into another world. You can't do anything with just an arm out there! And it inconveniences you back home!

If it was the third ritual, this is the point at which the demon can cause real harm, as most of it is on Earth- it can influence creatures (aka possession a little to the left), move objects with some effort, and generally cause chaos. Still cannot be seen, except under extreme circumstances. However, it cannot move far from the general area the vessel died -- maybe a few miles.

And if the vessel died after the fifth ritual has been completed, it would be... very bad. The demon would have no human attachment able to hold it back, and it would just be out there in the world, a physical thing with full capabilities. It would be 100% on Earth. Nightmare scenario.

Never fear, though! It is possible to banish a demon at any time. Just stick it in a body and send it back with DIFFERENT rituals! The vessel will lose demonic influence and will be fine, as will the demon, but both will again be separate.

You can tie a demon partially stuck on earth to a new vessel with the rituals, then do the banishment when you're far enough along and have all its rogue parts in a vessel again.

Okay, that's all. Now. Moving on!

Skylar (this used to be about him...) and the gang do the ritual. Nobody expects much of anything. Problem: Skylar's arm starts burning and shifts into something pitch black and iridescent, not unlike oil.

Everyone is very suddenly aware of Oh Shit, This Is Real.

They all hurry up to get the rest of the rituals done so they can banish the demon (if they can. Honestly, half the journal is fucking ruined, they're winging it, this is not going as planned). They decide to try banishing after the third ritual.

Skylar's mental health deteriorates, because he's experiencing unfamiliar thoughts and emotions (thanks, demon!). Plus the rapid-fire rituals are just taking their toll on him, physically - he's tired, and sore, and cranky, and not at all used to having a demon slowly infesting him. It makes all of the demonic stuff worse, harder to control. He both loves and hates that.

The demon very very badly wants Skylar to go on a deadly revenge tour. Be powerful, it says, be unstoppable, don't you want to make everyone look at you with fear and awe? And Skylar...

He starts to buy into it. Yeah, he SHOULD be powerful and unstoppable and scary. He SHOULD fuck shit up! But also he doesn't want to, that would be bad, he likes it here, he likes his friends. But it would be nice to go after that guy that was mean to him on his first day here, wouldn't it... no, he can't do that!

One day he does the fourth ritual by himself, making the demon stronger and the whole situation worse. They double down on trying to banish the demon, less concerned with the town's wellbeing now than their friend's.

I have a handful of endings for this part of his life in mind, but I haven't settled on any as the 'canon.' It depends on how bitter I feel that day, really.

In the best ending, it follows my original dream.

You see, throughout my dream, I would flash into the present, older, curled up in one big bed with my friends (the ones with me back then!) reminiscing on this like I'm telling a story. They are apologetic, because this experience has left me scarred mentally and physically. But I'm better, happier. The demon is gone, banished. My body hurts sometimes, still, but I met lifelong friends. Skylar's story would follow mine -- the demon is banished before the final ritual, not without consequence, but it gets better. He heals, is content.

The worst ending: Skylar succeeds in the final ritual and can't handle it. The demon has near total control of his body, Skylar's mind too addled and worn down to fight or disagree. His friends don't manage to banish it (in some versions, Skylar kills them outright). Skylar never recovers, in this one.

In the ????? ending, Skylar completes the fifth and final ritual, but his friends manage to banish the demon. There are so many versions of this one in my head, frankly. Ones where Skylar never forgives them, ones where Skylar gets better, ones where he tries to do the rituals again in desperation.

A lot of Skylar info right now, unfortunately, is based around this one story, because that was what I had in the dream as Skylar. The others have more concrete personalities, I feel, simply because I could observe them and wasn't actually them. But they aren't as interesting to talk about, because Skylar is essentially the protag, and has the most information and backstory. Listen, I just don't want to make him a copy-paste version of me :(

#my ocs #oh god thats so much nonsense text i think but its 1am and i wont cringe. i wont cringe i love writing im happy im pleased i will post this #and i wont feel weird about it. manifesting.#skylar #eye teeth #i should write. i should do that. hmmmmmmmmm #yeah i should do that...#look its 1am okay!! its 1am! and im full of things i want to do. and Oh God Its Night types of nerves. you know the ones. The Night Spiral.#is this coherent? who knwos who cares post now

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