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s1nn0hh · 3 months

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'Because you're my friend, and I could never hate you for it.'

oh boy oh boy its another average gehtsis fic and its about @sincerely-sofie 's mortality exchange au!! twig is back in town and she and kip talk a bit after the 30+ years they've been apart!! woo!!!

Kip's daily schedule was simple yet depressing as it could get, as far as some people figured.

At around 4:50am, he would wake up to an empty bed besides his, reminding him of a friend that he could remember as clear as day - yet one that was no longer with him. It didn't sit well with him. Not then, and not now. But he still had to put food on the table, after all.

He'd stop by the Kecleon Brothers to buy some guild supplies, and get to work. Ever so occasionally bumming into folks from Treasure Town who were kind to ask him if he's alright, if he needs anything, all that sympathetic jibber jabber.

As much as Kip wasn't one to turn down help, there was just so little that the people surrounding him could do to bring back the one person he cared most about - Twig.

It all happened just far too fast, in his memory. One night, Twig simply left - leaving pretty much no traces behind. No notes, no possible hint to point out where she was, nada. Kip and everyone that he knew were completely stuck in the dark. He remembers how scared he was when going around town and finding out that no one knew where Twig went. No one in Wigglytuff's Guild, no one in Spinda's Cafe, not even the future trio knew. And the fact that none of them knew either terrified them, too.

Everyone searched far and wide, only to be met with bad news. Twig vanished. Almost as if the ground swallowed her whole, only leaving her memory in the minds of her grieving friends as a reminder.

Oh, how Kip hated himself for it all. It's just Team Skull said to him all those years ago.

Too spineless to stand up to his own good without her, and now he couldn't even save her with the spine he now had.

But he had to put the grievance aside, he had an escorting job to do. The last thing he needed was to make all the young explorers worried sick about him.

The workday was as average as it could've gotten - except something was off with the dungeon that was picked for the escort.

Ever so occasionally, someone on the team would experience tiredness, and it was a very frequent occurrence.

Some speculated that the dungeon was cursed, some suggested that it was just natural, while some jokingly said that maybe there's a spooky ghost that will put everyone to sleep to ensure that their dreams get feasted on.

With Kip being armed with Chesto Berries to ensure that no one falls asleep, the speculations died down, but he was just curious as to what could've been the cause for such a thing. It wasn't natural, much less it effecting multiple people in a fast rate. Nonetheless, they continued deeper, all the way to the final floor.

The team eventually made it to what they suspected was the cause of the sleep inducing stuff - a lone Charizard. Yet.. it didn't seem like the ones you'd encounter in normal dungeons.

Her body was pitch black, white flames bursting from the edges of her mouth and her tail tip, blue crystalline eyes and jagged red edges that formed around the neck area, almost forming a crown-like shape. She was scared. She was afraid, insisting that they should all leave immediately and right this second.

Kip took a step closer to ensure that none of them had any evil intentions, but one look at the eyes and he seemingly.. froze. She stared back at him, freezing just the way he did. He knew who she was, and she did as well.

It was Twig. She was alive, and she was here, in front of him.

_______________________________

The next morning, Kip woke up with a rather tedious headache. He assumed that maybe it had to something with staying up for so long last time to let Dusknoir and Celebi see Twig and see both of them get just as emotional as he did all the while scolding and ugly-crying at her for completely disappearing and wonder just where she went and whatnot.

No, that couldn't be it.. getting a headache from something like that just felt odd. He'll have to check that out later.

As he woke up in his usual early morning hour, he expected to see Twig sleeping in the other end and finally feeling that happiness that he felt all those years ago - only to find out that she already got up and was heading for the outsides of Sharpedo Bluff, and he decided to follow suit.

Looking up the entrance, he saw that Twig sat on the edge of the bluff, watching the sun rise. He chose to approach and sit down beside her, seeing as he took the day off after telling the guildmaster about everything that happened and had nowhere to rush to.

Upon sitting down, the two parties greeted each other with a casual but awkward "Morning", and silence filling the air between as they took the sights in.

It was awkward, and neither of them knew why it felt like it. Kip was about to shower Twig with questions about, well, EVERYTHING, and Twig felt like she had to answer everything he'd throw at her. She already saw how much those years had a toll on him, and she didn't allow him to be that way any longer.

Regardless, the silence had to be broken, other they both might just explode from just how dense the atmosphere felt.

"So, uhh.. you evolved. That's pretty cool! Do you like.. feel any different?" Kip shot the first topic, almost regretting it immediately. God, he thought she was dead for 30 years and that's what he had to say? If he could, he would've slapped himself if Twig was sitting right here besides him.

Twig, on the other hand, chuckled a bit at the question before giving him her answer.

"Not a whole bunch, honestly. The wings are fine and all, but I don't really see myself as a.. flier, or something like that."

"Huh."

And like that, the silence continued it's course. Twig could feel Kip's upcoming questions about who where and why, so she figured she may as well let him ask and receive.

"Kip, I can tell that something's on your mind. Don't be afraid to ask me, man.. it's the least I could do after just disappearing on you for so long."

Kip snapped out of his uncomfortable silence at her words, almost feeling hesitant now that she picked up on it so easily. Obviously, he felt the need to do it yesterday when the two came back, but overloading her with questions especially when Celebi and Dusknoir already did the same would've felt rather improper and just give Twig a harder time adjusting to.. well, everything. So, he felt the need to confirm with her before he started asking.

"And you're.. gonna be fine with what I'll have to say?"

"You're my friend, Kip. I'm not gonna bite you for just speaking, you know."

"W-well.. if you say so."

Taking a deep breath in and out, Kip asked the very first thing that was on his mind the moment he first reunited with Twig.

"How did you end up looking like.. this? I know that some charizards can look a bit similar to you when they mega evolve, but this is.. a whole new different thing to unpack.."

Twig took a sigh of her own at the question. Right. If her appearance was enough to get some of the younglings from back then to shiver at the sight of her, then it would only be obvious that Kip would be just as concerned. Nonetheless, he was waiting for answer. And she didn't like what she was about to say.

"It's a.. very long story. I can tell it to you, but I need to ask you something in return."

"Oh, sure. what is it?"

"Do you know what happened to Darkrai back at Dark Crater?"

The question alone was enough to get Kip to shiver a bit. While Darkrai was indeed gone forever, he never forgot how terrifying Darkrai was. Convincing the two of them that they were better off not existing at all, threatening to plunge the world into darkness, it was horrifying. Kip swallowed his fear and nodded up and down to show that he knows.

"Y-yeah. I remember you delivering the finishing blo on him and he just sorta.. faded away? Did he like, curse you to look like this before that happened?"

"Far from it. After we both collapsed after the fight, Cresselia telepathically spoke to me after bringing us back to Treasure Town. She congratulated me for defeating Darkrai, but she informed me that not only did I deliver the finishing blow, I.. killed him. He was gone."

Kip could feel his jaw drop at that revelation. For the longest time, it was rumored that Legends were either immortal, or that they could never be killed in combat by a mortal. Obviously, no one was foolish enough to try, but people still believed it regardless.

"Turns out that Legends can be killed, especially by mortals. But when that happens, the pokemon that killed the legend inherits their power, and essentially becoming an extension of them. That's how Cresselia said it, at least."

"So when you killed Darkrai back at Dark Crater, you essentially.. became him, body and mind and all?"

"I pretty much got his whole nightmare powers and all, not the whole.. evilness part, which is probably the only good thing to come out of that situation."

".. Huh. I.. had no idea."

".. It's also the reason I ran away from all of you. I didn't want to hurt anyone, be it you, Grovyle, Celebi, Dusknoir, or everyone else."

Kip went silent at that last comment. While he could understand that the whole nightmary stuff would be hard at first for Twig to master, he didn't thing that self-imposed exile would be her first solution to confront it. He knew that she couldn't ask for help to save her own life, but.. was he too untrustworthy enough for her to try and help her with it?

"Actually, I wanna ask you somethin'. If you don't mind, that is.."

".. What is it, Twig?"

"Why don't you hate me for all of this?"

Truthfully, Kip didn't have an answer to that. Up until now, he didn't even know that Twig was alive, much less that she chose to leave on purpose. And now that he knows, he can't bring himself to hate her either. Hell, even Celebi got angry with her for everything, and that was only for a few minutes before she started crying again.

".. I couldn't hate you for it."

"W-why not, dude?! I mean, I completely abandoned you without doing so much as leaving a goodbye note, and you're just.. fine with it?"

"Twig.. I don't wanna be mad at you. Sure, I wish you would've at least given us a sign that you were still alive, but.. knowing what you went through to immediately assume that leaving was the only option.. I would've probably acted the same way, too."

"... Really?"

"I mean, not like like you, but it's something I would've heavily considered."

"And even with that in mind.. I can't hate you for it, Twig. I don't want to, and I won't hate you. You're my friend, and.. I just don't want to lose you again. I'm just happy that you're here."

Twig was silent at his words. She looked to the side a bit, sniffing a bit while trying to wipe the tears from her eyes away. She spoke again, her voice sounding almost mournful as she held back tears while looking back at Kip.

"You're a good friend, dude. I.. I just don't know what to say."

"It's okay, it's okay. Do you wanna hug? I know you dislike physical touch, but- oomph!"

Twig reached out for Kip immediately as soon as he spread his arms wide for the hug, and she just whimpered as she held him close and tight, and he held her closer in a tight embrace, fighting back the tears the same way she did.

"... I missed you."

"Me too."

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galionne-speeding · 3 months

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What're the eight gods like in your Sonic Pantheon AU?

Aah thank you so much for asking! I wasn't sure how/when to drop all the character info ; but now I've got the perfect excuse! To make it more digestible to read (and easier on myself) I'll copy/paste my character doc! (with some slight adjustments)

- - -

Name: Boreas (Also known as "The Cursed Winter", "Lord of Ice") Age: 25 Gender: Male (He/They) Species: Megaloceros Emerald: White

Several millennia ago, the last known megaloceros tribe was wiped out by its neighbors who greatly feared its people's ability to control ice and the cold. The sole survivor of the massacre, Boreas, was able to flee and it is believed he found a Chaos Emerald during his escape. Imbued with new power, he would soon return to avenge his people and slaughter those who had taken their lives ; until a small group of warriors was able to seal him deep inside an underground ice lake.

Name: Piia (Also known as "The Trickster", "Devil's Child", "The Moon-Kissed Spirit") Age: 8 Gender: Non-Binary (They/Them) Species: Pygmy Rabbit (Albino) Emerald: Light Blue

Piia was only a child when their village was hit by a disastrous harvest ; and they were offered as a sacrifice to the mountain their people worshiped. They were thrown into a deep crevasse and were killed on impact. However, their body had landed next to a Chaos Emerald which seemingly fed so much energy into it, Piia was brought back to life and granted an array of supernatural abilities. The young rabbit would go on to terrorize their old village, until they were tricked by another child into sealing themselves into a small mirror.

Name: Zeutaros (Also known as "The Storm", "The Great Dragon", "The Beast") Age: 201 (Early 40s by Zeti standards) Gender: Male (He/Him) Species: Ancient Zeti Emerald: Red

A Zeti Warlord of terrifying renown, it is believed Zeutaros fell to Mobius from the Lost Hex in ancient times. He seemingly found a Chaos Emerald near his landing site which charged him with immeasurable power and soon began ravaging the land in an enraged frenzy. The carnage would only end when Zeutaros accidentally broke the roof of a large underground cave system, where he fell and was buried by the rubble.

Name: Mother Agnes (Also known as "The Sunset Witch") Age: 62 Gender: Female (She/Her) Species: Luna Moth Emerald: Yellow

Little is known about Mother Agnes’ past ; only that she suffered greatly in her youth. In her early 60s she opened a boarding school for lost and troubled children which saw great success ; until all of the children put under her care began to vanish. It was soon discovered that she was in possession of a Chaos Emerald, which she was using to put the children into a comatose sleep in order to feed on their dreams. Her school was promptly swarmed by villagers and Agnes was captured and burned at the stake, at which point all of the children woke up. Her medallion is currently displayed in Sunset City’s history museum.

Name: Désiré (Also known as "Prince Raj", "The Adored One") Age: 17 Gender: Agender (They/Them) Species: Jacobin Pigeon Emerald: Purple

Born into wealth and nobility, Prince Raj was raised from the youngest age to be the next ruler of the kingdom and believed to have everything one could ever wish for. Yet many ; servants and nobles alike ; had noted how disheartend and dejected the prince always appeared both in public and in private. When the future sovereign turned 17 they were gifted a large purple gem which they took a particular interest in. Not long after this, communication from the kingdom to its neighbors slowly dwindled until it fell completely silent. It was soon discovered that the large purple gem gifted to Prince Raj was in fact a Chaos Emerald ; which they were using to warp the minds of the entire kingdom, so that all alike would see their lives now revolving around their new ruler as they worshipped and adored Raj day in and day out. The spell was only broken when an assassin was sent to enter the palace and successfully killed the prince.

Name: Malda (Also known as "The Hermit", "The Pestilence Witch") Age: 51 Gender: Female (She/Her) Species: African Common Toad Emerald: Green

Malda used to be a peaceful and solitary hermit living deep in the forest, making herbal remedies for those daring enough to visit her hut. When a villager went missing after visiting her however, she was quickly accused of causing his disappearance- as well as all others in the area. While historians now believe she was innocent, villagers at the time condemned her to death by drowning in the nearby lake. Not long following her death, the region was hit with several devastating epidemics ; which were only quelled once the lake was drained and The Pestilence Witch’s skeleton placed in an airtight coffin. A Chaos Emerald was found near her remains during the draining process.

Name: Manas (Also know as "Royal Seer Manas", "The Devil's Tongue") Age: 57 Gender: Male (He/Him) Species: Manul Emerald: Dark Blue

From a young age, Manas had always displayed the uncanny ability to learn everything from an individual, just by shaking their hand or touching their clothes. As this ability was sharpened over the following years, Manas began to slowly amass followers who were bewildered by his visions and predictions of the future. Little did they know, Manas was granted these abilities by a Chaos Emerald he was keeping safely hidden. As more and more people joined the ranks of his followers, the manul declared himself emperor and set his people on a path to conquer new land ; aided by his visions and knowledge. It is believed this conquest lasted for several decades and saw hundreds of war victories for the manul- until it all fell apart. One of Manas' visions turned out to be inaccurate, leading to a crushing defeat and the loss of nearly three quarters of his army. Disillusioned and under the assumption their ruler had knowingly sent them to their deaths, it is believed the survivors tracked down Manas and brutally murdered him for his failures.

Name: ∅ / Null Gender: ▇▇▇▇ (It/Its) Species: ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇ Emerald: ▇▇▇▇

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#ask #welcome-to-hotel-california #sonic pantheon au #sonic au #sonic the hedgehog au #sth au #sonic oc #sth oc #sonic the hedgehog oc

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eijakushingomel · 2 months

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To You, The Hero - Interlude

The Breeze That Isn't So Easy To Breath

Warning : Heavy spoilers to Wattpad readers...

Boboiboy woke up in a strange place.

The elemental user wasn't surprise to see himself in a black void again. After all, that was how he first met his sentient elements.

But something felt off this time. Like, there was the feeling of cold air instead of the usual room temperature.

Boboiboy promptly sat up, and the first thing he saw was the silhouette figure of Tempest.

She was still in her full humanoid form, with Boboiboy seeing her in full shape and no longer shaded in just white and blue. Her scarves lay still on her back, the same back that was facing him right now.

The elemental user stood up and gingerly approached her.

"...Tempest?"

Something felt off. Not just the void, but her as well. It was so unusual, so unlike the outgoing and cheerful wind elemental that Boboiboy had accustomed to.

She didn't turn around, but her head moved to stare at something slightly above. Whatever it was, Boboiboy didn't know. But he did know that all her attention had been shifted to him.

"You've grown up now" was the first thing she said to him after a moment of silence. "It felt not long ago that you were that eleven years old, waddling behind me like a lost duck."

Boboiboy flushed at the sentiment. Did she must bring that u— Wait, this was Tempest he facing with. Of course she would.

"I'm not eleven anymore. I'm fourteen now, and I'll be fifteen soon."

"I know," she hummed. "Time passed so quickly, huh?"

"...Bella?"

"Boboiboy, listen well."

The boy froze. This... this was the first time she called him that by his full nickname. Actually, the only elemental that called him by his full nickname was Neo. Usually, they would just call him 'Oboi' or 'kiddo' or something.

"We got a feeling that you'll be facing more than you know soon in the near future. Whatever it is, the only thing we could do is wait for it."

"Bella? What are you saying?"

"... just a mere thought of concern. That's all."

A pause.

"And..." her head dipped down. "A reminder for you, Boboiboy."

"..."

"We, the elementals, are beings that are not evil, yet not good as well. Everything that happened and will happen around us is the cause of our own doings. Unlike you humans or any other sane creatures, we don't have the term right or wrong."

"Bella..."

Then, she turned around and properly faced him. "One day, there will be the day where we are let loose. Out of control. What destruction or creation we might cause? All I know is that it could be a total mayhem. Chaotic. And all the burden..."

As if something blew her, her form vanished like mist and replaced with a carbon copy of Boboiboy's own version of Cylone.

Taufan smiled at him, head tilted aside as he pointed at himself.

"...Will fall onto you, our dearest user."

Boboiboy's breath hitched.

"Then tell us, even with that knowledge and awareness, will you still accept us?"

"..."

A moment of silence between the two. Boboiboy looked down to his feet, feeling the adrenaline running through his veins as he complimented his answer.

Taufan smiled and twirled around. The copy version of the dark blue scarf that Yaya gifted him swirled its tails along like some sort of boneless limbs.

"Of course, there's always a way to dodge that. You could just give us away – the power watch – to somebody else. Ochobot will understand. After all, he's your Power Sphere, am I right? Then—"

"No."

Taufan froze. "...no?"

"No," Boboiboy stated, firmer this time.

The smile on the wind elemental dropped, and never once, Boboiboy felt so scared at the solemn look it uncharacteristically plastered across its countenance.

"Do you still not understand?" Taufan asked, and the tone was mocking, sneers. "I'm talking about death and losses here, kiddo. Something that not a fourteen years old would understand. Who couldn't comprehend—," he took a deep breath, and continued on it a much calmer but still stern voice. "It's better if you give up now, kid. Tell that to your friends too. Holding powers mean holding on to the promise of war. No matter how much you try to hide it, to conform yourself that you're just a normal kid with cool powers for fun, it wouldn't be worth it when you see the responsibility you must carry on for the rest of your life."

"Bella..."

"I wouldn't be much of a help when that happens, kid. None of us will," he said. "It's better if you stop now before the burden will become bigger."

"..."

"...so..."

"It's still a no."

"...!" Taufan frowned. "Boboiboy—"

"Because if it means giving you away, giving the moment of us to fly together to a stop...," the boy then lifted his chin, presenting the glimmer of determination in his hazel eyes. "Then I'll carry the burden anywhere I go."

"..."

"Like you say, no matter what, you're still a creature that doesn't have the concept of right or wrong. Yet it won't change a single fact that you're my friend now. So, as the rest of the elementals."

He stepped forward, not stopping until he ended right in front of the wind version of him. He clasped their hands together and watched as Taufan's blue eyes drifted to it.

"As your friend and your user, let me the lead to the right or wrong in your life. I don't care about your past. The future is what is important, and we shouldn't be separate just because of that fear and your past!"

"..."

"Whatever it is that you fear so much that you gave me this warning..."

"...!"

"...then shouldn't it be less scarier if we face it together?"

"..." Taufan scoffed, though there was a sincerity hidden in. "Even if you lose control over us? We're cold maniacs, ya know?"

Tears that should never exist slipped through her eyes. Gopal hastily scrambled to her side to get to him, shaking his best friend while desperately pleading him to stay awake. To be awake.

"If that happens..."

Dark chuckles erupted before them. Ying laid limp in their enemy's hold before she was thrown away like a rag doll.

"...then..."

Before he could make any more move, scarves like wings wrapped around his arm and mercilessly ripped it off from his body. Gurgling screech echoed in the ruined place, and she shielded both Gopal and their user from the bloody sight with her figure.

Voltra appeared right next to her. His body was far from relax, and his sword was already out with its sheath nowhere in sight. Gopal shrieked, hugging Boboiboy's unconscious body closer when crystal hand buried out of the ground and shielded the humans with its fingers.

The same thing happened to the humans and Fang, but only the humans and Fang. That small commander alien barely dodged the bursting explosion made by the enraged Nova and the cold breath of Blizzard.

Dreadful thorns stabbed through the enemy's leg, poison started to seep in as Timber's maniacal (but not happy) cackles echoed. The foreign alien fell down when a blast of light pierced his other standing leg.

"...I'll be there to smack some sense into you."

"...Hmp," Taufan shrugged, trying to pretend he wasn't flustered (no sir, nu uh). "Don't say I didn't warn ya."

Boboiboy chuckled. "I know, I know."

The human boy only smiled when the other's hands gripped back.

#boboiboy #fanfiction #none of the elements have the concept of right or wrong #it just dont fall to them #but they slowly started to care for BBB and friends #uh oh #angst

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pinkthick · 8 months

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Maybe a monster

Pairing: Simon Petrikov & Kid!Marceline

Simon Petrikov/Betty Grof

Summary: Marcy is hungry and Simon started to notice that they are running low on supplies.

Simon looked out the broken windows and watched the moon, its silvery glow casting ghostly shadows in the room. Simon couldn’t help but be captivated by the celestial beauty of the night, his red eyes were fixed on it and he quickly became lost in thought. The night was always a time of reflection for him, a time when he could let his guard down and allow the memories to wash over him. Memories of another time.

He remembered stargazing with Betty, their fingers intertwined as they shared dreams of future together.

“We should do this more often” Betty murmured somewhat shyly to Simon, who smiled beneath the cover of darkness.

The two lovers were in an empty everglade near the edge of the city, outside the metropolitan area. It was filled with with tall grass and equally tall white flowers scattered all across the field. There was the occasional flicker of a passing firefly and large, leafless trees. It was very aesthetically pleasing—and even more so at night, when the glowing moon was out and there were luminescent stars sprinkled all across the blanket of sky. The pair were on their backs in the grass, staring at the mesmerizing sky and the somewhat stupefying stars. It was rare to see so many in one place back at their apartment — but they were beautiful nonetheless.

“I’m glad we did come here.” And at that Betty rolled her eyes. It was hard work to even make Simon agree to go outside now. His desire to stay indoors during the day was understandable, given the risks he faced under the harsh sunlight, but it was his refusal to venture outside even after dark that made Betty worry and it was also frustrating her to no end. He had become a recluse, spending his nights awake and active but avoiding the world beyond their front door so of course Betty had to change that.

Even if she had maybe forced her fiancée out of the house.

Maybe.

He turned over in the grass, startling a nearby group of moths, and plucked one of the ivory daisies from the grass. Then he turned back toward his partner, smoothing her hair back behind her ear, and gently placing it in her hair.

Betty's eyes widened, and she slowly reached her hand up and grazed the flower with her fingertips. “Thank you.”

She was beautiful.

The moon was mesmerizing on her light pale skin and lit up her enchanting black eyes in a way that made his heart leap —and aside from being absolutely hypnotizing, she was someone to confide in when he felt like had nobody. Simon felt as if he would never be able to comprehend how he had such a perfect person as a lover —the way she made him feel was like nothing he had ever felt before. The whole world just vanished whenever he even glanced into her face.

But those moments felt like a lifetime ago, a distant past that was almost too painful to remember.

Simon sighed deeply, his breath forming a visible cloud in the cold night air. He missed Betty more than words could express, and the ache in his heart seemed to intensify with each passing night. But he couldn't afford to dwell on the past, not when he had Marceline to protect and care for. A bittersweet smile played on Simon's lips as he looked at the little girl, who was sleeping peacefully. Maybe he could take her stargazing somewhere.

But despite his best efforts to stay awake and keep watch, his eyelids grew heavy, and he slowly drifted back into sleep.

Meanwhile, Marceline, still a child in many ways, had a restless slumber. She woke up to find Hambo, her beloved stuffed toy, nestled beside her. She carefully disentangled herself from Simon's cloak and a faint smile crossed her face as she clutched the tattered toy for comfort.

Quietly, she got up, careful not to disturb Simon's rest. She noticed that Simon had draped his cloak over her before he fell asleep. Grateful for his warmth and protection, she decided to return the favor. With a mischievous grin, she tiptoed over to Simon and looked down at him as he snored softly. With a gentle touch, she placed the cloak near him, ensuring that he would stay comfortable as well.

Marceline couldn't help but giggle as she watched Simon snore softly in his sleep. His usually serious and stoic demeanor was momentarily replaced by the vulnerability of slumber. She leaned in closer, her black eyes sparkling with amusement.

"You're making funny noises sometimes," she whispered with a mischievous grin, her words barely audible.

As she continued to watch him sleep, her gaze lingered on his mouth. Marceline had noticed something peculiar about Simon on several occasions, something she couldn't quite explain. She could have sworn that at times, when he was angry or agitated, his canines seemed to elongate into something resembling fangs. It was an unsettling sight, one that she couldn't ignore, though she had never dared to mention it to him directly.

Even now, as he slept, she couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in his teeth. They weren't the same as a vampire's fangs(?), but they were definitely sharper than any human's. Marceline furrowed her brows, deep in thought. "Weird," she muttered to herself, her curiosity piqued.

But she decided not to disturb Simon's slumber further, returning to her makeshift bed, clutching Hambo tightly and just as she sat down, she heard Simon yawn.

The morning sun had already begun to filter through the cracks in the walls of their makeshift sanctuary and Simon stirred awake. He stretched, feeling a little more rested despite the troubled dreams that he had during the night. As he looked around the room, he spotted Marceline on her makeshift bed, wide awake and clutching Hambo.

"Morning, Marcy," Simon greeted her with a warm smile, his black eyes softening as he took in the sight of the young half-demon girl. Her presence always brought a sense of peace to his turbulent existence.

"Morning, Simon!" Marceline replied cheerfully, her eyes bright with energy.

Soon enough Simon got up from his spot and moved toward her, the cloak he had draped over her earlier now resting on his shoulders. The sun was rising, and he needed to shield himself from its harsh rays.

As he approached Marceline, he asked, "How long have you been up?" He was always concerned about her safety, especially when she was awake before him. He didn’t know what she could do while he was asleep. She could go through the whole building without him.

But she didn’t and she won’t. She’s a smart girl.

Marcy won’t leave him like she did.

Marceline shrugged, her small shoulders lifting as she replied, "Not too long. I just woke up a little while ago." She then grinned mischievously. "Your snoring woke me up, though."

Simon chuckled at her teasing and tousled her hair affectionately. "Sorry about that," he said with a playful glint in his eye. "I'll try to be quieter next time."

“You’re silly.” she smiled and leaped towards him without any reservations.

Even though he hardly feels Marceline’s full-force hug hit him, he still lets out a small remark "Take it easy, Marcy." Simon chuckled slightly.

Soon enough, Marceline's stomach rumbled and she looked at Simon with a playful grin. "I'm hungry, Simon. What do you say we have some breakfast?"

Simon knew that his vampiric nature made human food virtually useless to him. He always insisted he wasn't hungry, but Marceline had made it her mission to make sure he at least tried to eat something. Maybe because she didn’t know that he was actually a vampire.

Details.

With a sigh, he relented and stood up. "Alright, Marcy. Let's see what we have left.

“Something good I hope." They had been rationing their supplies for a while, and the pickings were slim. Marceline watched as Simon rummaged through their meager food stores, eventually finding some canned food that had miraculously survived the ravages of time. He looked at the label, and it wasn't the most appetizing choice, but it was sustenance.

“Simon, I found something too!” Marceline declared as she held a wooden toy in her hand.

Simon watched her with a mixture of amusement as he made a makeshift opener and said “I don’t think we can eat that.”

“Maybe we can!” Marceline beamed with satisfaction at her words.

He opened the can and scooped some of the unappetizing contents onto a plate, trying to hide his reluctance. Was it even safe for her to eat this? “You try first. Try to eat the wooden soldier.”

“No. You’re trying first!”

“Nu uh.” But Simon did take a hesitant bite of the canned food (not Marcy’s wooden soldier) and while it wasn't the most delightful meal he had ever had, it hasn’t gone bad. Marceline watched him closely, her eyes shining with curiosity. "Is it good, Simon?" she asked, excitement bubbling up as she awaited his response.

“It’s decent.” And that was enough for Marceline. She wasted no time as she dug into the food. Her eyes lit up with satisfaction, and she nodded her approval with her mouth full. "Mmm, it's good!"

He couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "I'm glad you like it, Marcy." Simon glanced over at Marceline as she ate, but his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of their dwindling supplies. He had been periodically checking their stores, and the situation was becoming more dire with each passing day. There wasn't much left. As Marceline enjoyed her meal, Simon quietly stood up and went to a corner of the room where they kept their remaining supplies. His face grew serious as he took stock of what was left. It was clear that they couldn't rely on their current location much longer.

Simon took out his map and spread it out before him, tracing his fingers over the various towns and landmarks near their current location. As Marceline finished her meal, she approached him with Hambo clutched in her arms, her expression a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty. "Marcy," Simon began, "what if we go on a little adventure?" He looked up from the map to meet her gaze.

Marceline’s brow furrowed, and she seemed hesitant. "Again? But I like this building. I thought we were staying here for real."

He reached out to ruffle her hair affectionately. "I know you like it here, and it's nice, but we're almost out of food, Marcy. We can't stay here forever. We'll just go on a little journey to find more supplies, and we'll come back. How does that sound?"

Marceline sighed, her gaze fixed on the map as she considered his proposal. Finally, she nodded, albeit with a hint of reluctance. "Okay, Simon. But we have to come back here, okay? I like this place."

Simon smiled and pulled her into a gentle hug. "We'll come back, I promise.”

Maybe he shouldn’t make promises he can’t keep

Notes: Whoever read this. Hope you enjoyed!

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/Part 6/Part 7/Part 8/Part 9/Part 10/?

Masterlist

#vampire simon petrikov #simon petrikov #simon petrikov x reader #marceline #marceline and simon #adventure time simon #adventure time alternative universe #fiona and cake #human betty grof #betty grof #betty and simon #vampires #vampire simon petrikov au #petrigrof

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bright-eyed · 5 months

Text

Landscape

Louise Glück

The sun is setting behind the mountains, the earth is cooling. A stranger has tied his horse to a bare chestnut tree. The horse is quiet — he turns his head suddenly, hearing, in the distance, the sound of the sea.

I make my bed for the night here, spreading my heaviest quilt over the damp earth.

The sound of the sea — when the horse turns its head, I can hear it.

On a path through the bare chestnut trees, a little dog trails its master.

The little dog — didn’t he used to rush ahead, straining the leash, as though to show his master what he sees there, there in the future —

the future, the path, call it what you will.

Behind the trees, at sunset, it is as though a great fire is burning between two mountains so that the snow on the highest precipice seems, for a moment, to be burning also.

Listen: at the path’s end the man is calling out. His voice has become very strange now, the voice of a person calling to what he can’t see.

Over and over he calls out among the dark chestnut trees. Until the animal responds faintly, from a great distance, as though this thing we fear were not so terrible.

Twilight: the stranger has untied his horse.

The sound of the sea — just memory now.

Time passed, turning everything to ice. Under the ice, the future stirred. If you fell into it, you died.

It was a time of waiting, of suspended action.

I lived in the present, which was that part of the future you could see. The past floated above my head, like the sun and moon, visible but never reachable.

It was a time governed by contradictions, as in I felt nothing and I was afraid.

Winter emptied the trees, filled them again with snow. Because I couldn’t feel, snow fell, the lake froze over. Because I was afraid, I didn’t move; my breath was white, a description of silence.

Time passed, and some of it became this. And some of it simply evaporated; you could see it float above the white trees forming particles of ice.

All your life, you wait for the propitious time. Then the propitious time reveals itself as action taken.

I watched the past move, a line of clouds moving from left to right or right to left, depending on the wind. Some days

there was no wind. The clouds seemed to stay where they were, like a painting of the sea, more still than real.

Some days the lake was a sheet of glass. Under the glass, the future made demure, inviting sounds: you had to tense yourself so as not to listen.

Time passed; you got to see a piece of it. The years it took with it were years of winter; they would not be missed. Some days

there were no clouds, as though the sources of the past had vanished. The world

was bleached, like a negative; the light passed directly through it. Then the image faded.

Above the world there was only blue, blue everywhere.

In late autumn a young girl set fire to a field of wheat. The autumn

had been very dry; the field went up like tinder.

Afterward there was nothing left. You walk through it, you see nothing.

There’s nothing to pick up, to smell. The horses don’t understand it —

Where is the field, they seem to say. The way you and I would say where is home.

No one knows how to answer them. There is nothing left; you have to hope, for the farmer’s sake, the insurance will pay.

It is like losing a year of your life. To what would you lose a year of your life?

Afterward, you go back to the old place — all that remains is char: blackness and emptiness.

You think: how could I live here?

But it was different then, even last summer. The earth behaved

as though nothing could go wrong with it.

One match was all it took. But at the right time — it had to be the right time.

The field was parched, dry — the deadness in place already so to speak.

I feel asleep in a river, I woke in a river, of my mysterious failure to die I can tell you nothing, neither who saved me nor for what cause —

There was immense silence. No wind. No human sound. The bitter century

was ended, the glorious gone, the abiding gone,

the cold sun persisting as a kind of curiosity, a memento, time streaming behind it —

The sky seemed very clear, as it is in winter, the soil dry, uncultivated,

the official light calmly moving through a slot of air

dignified, complacent, dissolving hope, subordinating images of the future to signs of the future’s passing —

I think I must have fallen. When I tried to stand, I had to force myself, being unused to physical pain —

I had forgotten how harsh these conditions are:

the earth not obsolete but still, the river cold, shallow —

Of my sleep, I remember nothing. When I cried out, my voice soothed me unexpectedly.

In the silence of consciousness I asked myself: why did I reject my life? And I answer Die Erde überwältigt mich: the earth defeats me.

I have tried to be accurate in this description in case someone else should follow me. I can verify that when the sun sets in winter it is incomparably beautiful and the memory of it lasts a long time. I think this means

there was no night. The night was in my head.

After the sun set we rode quickly, in the hope of finding shelter before darkness.

I could see the stars already, first in the eastern sky:

we rode, therefore, away from the light and toward the sea, since I had heard of a village there.

After some time, the snow began. Not thickly at first, then steadily until the earth was covered with a white film.

The way we traveled showed clearly when I turned my head — for a short while it made a dark trajectory across the earth —

Then the snow was thick, the path vanished. The horse was tired and hungry; he could no longer find sure footing anywhere. I told myself:

I have been lost before, I have been cold before. The night has come to me exactly this way, as a premonition —

And I thought: if I am asked to return here, I would like to come back as a human being, and my horse

to remain himself. Otherwise I would not know how to begin again.

#w #one thing about me is i’ll post a long poem that no one other than me will care about. and that’s my lot in life and it’s fine #but sorry it’s so long i thought about posting screenshots but then it’s like what’s the point because someone will just reply with the #text id for screenreaders even though i always put the text in the alt text and it will be long anyway so w/e #it might as well be accessible #it’s not like it matters anyway this is My Little Blog for Me #kennapost

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unitako-agency · 2 years

Text

𝒜 𝒯𝓇𝒾𝒻𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒢𝒶𝓂𝑒

Eichi Tenshouin x Gender Neutral Reader (Dark Fic Drabble) ✦

Word Count: 691

To be preyed on by an unknown force, and to be powerless as the world keeps crashing down around you. As all hope gets lost when you’re left with no choice, will you finally give in?

Disclaimer: TW mentions of blood, and horrible plot and flow from the writer due to writing at 5 am. Inspired by this line.

He’s been terrorizing the kingdom for some time now. Burning the crops, killing the animals, making residents disappear, its almost as if he’s toying with all of you. Who is he anyways? You don’t know, you all don’t know. You see your parents’ dark circles go darker and deeper from stress. How you wake up in the middle of the night to hear them pacing around and arguing. Not only was this god destroying your empire, it also destroyed your family’s once happy relationship.

One night though, you expected to hear your parents argue again as you woke up, but as you glanced to your window, a faint light became more noticeable as it grew in luminosity. Curiosity took ahold of your body, and step by step, you slowly made your way to see what was glowing in the dark depressing night... but then you saw him. Him whose cold blue eyes met yours, and it felt so surreal to finally see the god who made the lives of innocents their entertainment field, their little game.

It was ironic, he who looked like an angel, whose blond hair and ocean blue eyes sparkled like the stars, committed so many atrocities that terrorized your kingdom. An angel who killed and tortured so many people, just because of seemingly endless boredom. This man who ruined your future, now facing you, obviously unfazed with the thought of someone finally seeing his form. You don’t even remember what happened next, you just know he disappeared as quickly as he came, and as you walk back to your bed, you feel fear inching from your spine all the way down your back as you thought of the possibility of disappearing next.

Surprisingly, the next few days went smoothly. In fact, it all went perfectly well. The kingdom suffered no casualties nor problem, and it finally seemed like the god lost interest on all of you. People are starting to be happy again, cheerful for the more than welcome change of events. This celebration though, would unfortunately vanish on one faithful night. One by one, people left their houses to see the night sky, as they only see the dim moon, and nothing more. The sky looked pitch black, no sign of stars no clouds. It felt so claustrophobic, like the shadow finally catching up to swallow you whole, and yet it felt intriguing to watch. Though terrifying, it felt amazing to see, and yet things would only go downhill from here, as this night marks the start of the annihilation of your beloved empire.

One by one, people started dropping dead. The way they find the body is all the same, facing down, spread like a starfish. Their blood forming a pentagram below them all by itself. Every passing day, the tension and stress grew more and more, as the people who would die start creeping in at the palace, maids and butlers just found in the same position, pentagrams below the cadavers. It was horrifying enough for you and your family, yet the scar would only run deep as the day came when you saw your parents facing down in the throne room, dead. Their blood moving on their own, almost like small leeches slowly crawling to their prey.

You shake in fear and you felt your body go cold, you feel your eyesight blur from shock, and all those clashing emotions and numbing pain seizes to exist as you felt hands on your shoulders. “I hope you like the stars I stole for you...” The blond man pointed at the ceiling, where countless sparkles started illuminating the room. You stayed silent, anger and fear overtaking you. “You like them, right?” He spoke again, and yet you couldn’t answer. “I hope you fancy them, because you’d spend a whole eternity with me..” His grip tightens as he chuckles, and you felt your hands pulled up by unseen forces, chains forcing them up and tying them in place. As his blue eyes met yours again, you silently begged for mercy, but you knew.

You knew deep down.

You have no chance nor way to escape him.

#eichi tenshouin #tenshouin eichi x reader #enstars #ensemble stars #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #the night agency

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olympians367 · 19 days

Text

How can one minor change affect the future?

One morning, Severus Snape wakes up to find an infant on his doorstep with only a note to explain its appearance. A friend of his - one that had gone missing after Hogwarts and presumed dead - was begging him to care for her daughter, a girl who had caught the attention of the Dark Lord.

Unbeknownst to him, he has just been entrusted with the responsibility of raising the daughter of Poseidon, a child whose powers transcends that of Heracles; a child who has been fated to either save Olympus . . . or destroy it. A child like this being raised and taught by a cold and emotionally reserved man, who knows the Dark Arts and potion-making like the back of his hand, could have a less than favorable outcome.

After eleven years of being isolated from the wizarding world, Evangeline is starting her first day at Hogwarts, and is about to make a shocking discovery.

[Chapters are between two to five thousand words long.]

Chapter Three - First Week at Hogwarts

On the official first day of school, Evangeline woke up bright and early, bouncing out of bed and changing into her Gryffindor uniform. She brushed her hair, making sure not a strand was out of place, and that she had everything she needed tucked away neatly into her school bag. After that, Evangeline made her way down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

On her way to her first class, Evangeline passed by her fellow Gryffindors, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, getting threatened by the caretaker, Argus Filch, for attempting to enter the out-of-bounds corridor. Having met the caretaker and engaged in a somewhat delightful conversation after being caught giving water and a good scratch behind the ear to his cat, Mrs Norris, on her way to breakfast, Evangeline managed to convince Filch not to punish the boys. As the two made their way to Evangeline’s first class, chatting about family and problem students, Ron and Harry trailed behind with confused expressions. They had heard Filch was an unpleasant man and that many wanted to kick his cat, but now they wondered how true it was.

Their theory was quickly squashed when the caretaker, not so subtly, advised Evangeline to stay away from them as she was “too nice of a girl to be cavorting with hooligans such as those two”.

Evangeline politely nodded with a small smile, saying, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” before entering her class, quickly followed by Ron and Harry, who received a distrustful glare from Filch.

Using the directions her father gave her, Evangeline didn’t have as terrible a time navigating Hogwarts as the other first years. She knew about the stairs that would lead to somewhere different on a Friday and the ones with a vanishing step, the doors that you had to open in a specific way and the ones that aren’t doors at all. Evangeline did her best to remember everything, not be late to class, and take excellent notes - seeing as she’s in Gryffindor, she figures she’ll have to do a lot to stay in her father’s good graces.

The last thing Evangeline wanted was to be on the other end of his sharp tongue.

Her most boring class was History of Magic, which was taught by a ghost named Professor Binns - he had a very dull, monotone voice that left everyone falling asleep. Evangeline’s father had told her that the professor had been extremely old when he fell asleep in front of a staffroom fire two centuries ago, and it surprised everyone when he left his body to continue teaching. Her father had warned her to not expect much from Professor Quirrell’s class as, in his words, Quirrell is a coward who knows nothing about the Dark Arts. Evangeline assumed he just hated the professor for getting the job he wanted, but that was partially the case – Quirrell’s lessons were a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, he turned pink and started talking about the weather when Seamus asked how he defeated a zombie, and Evangeline could swear there was another reason as to why he wore his turban other than it being a gift from an African prince. Evangeline’s favorite class was Transfiguration, right after Charms and Astronomy. Professor McGonagall reminded her of her father, except she was much more fair. After having them take complicated notes, she gave them a match and had them attempt to turn it into a needle. By the end of that lesson, Evangeline and Hermione were the only ones who made any difference to their match.

The day Evangeline dreaded the most finally came: Friday.

Now, for most people Friday is the most wonderful day of the week, as it signifies the beginning of two days of relaxation before being thrust into stressful long hours; but for Evangeline, it marks the day where she has to go to Potions and face her father, the formidable authoritarian, Severus Snape.

“Double Potions with the Slytherins,” said Ron, breaking Evangeline out of her anxiety-filled trance. His statement just made her more worried. “Snape’s Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them — we’ll be able to see if it’s true.”

“He does favor them,” Evangeline firmly states, her head leaning against her hand as she massages her temple. Her other hand caresses her locket, her fingers running over the snake engraved on it.

“How do you know?” Ron asks curiously, turning his head towards her.

“I - I’ve seen him be less strict with them.” She immediately stuffs her face with egg and sausages to avoid continuing the conversation.

“Wish McGonagall favored us,” said Harry. Professor McGonagall was the Head of Gryffindor House, but that didn’t stop her from giving them a huge pile of homework that Evangeline finished just to stop thinking about opening the letter her father sent her.

The moment Evangeline remembered the letter she had been refusing to open, the mail arrived. Her barn owl, Doúkissa, swooped down, landing beside her plate and dropping three letters onto her lap – one from her mother, one from her brother, and one from her father. She stared tentatively at her father’s letter, which sat on top of the pile, staring back with her name written in cursive black ink. Glancing towards the High Table to make sure Snape wasn’t looking, Evangeline slips her father’s letter into her bag, pushing it towards the bottom, where it’d end up rumpled.

Evangeline has been avoiding her father for the entire week. Every time she saw him in the hallway, she’d duck down in a crowd of students, go down another corridor, or just turn around and find another way to class.

In the back of her mind, she knows it isn’t right to ignore her father like this. Before Hogwarts, the two were like peas in a pod, and no one would be wrong in assuming Evangeline was a daddy’s girl. She was able to trust him with anything, to go to him for anything, and expect that he would always be there for her, so how can she just ignore him like this?

Guilt welled up inside of her, simmering and bubbling with the notion of a possibly destroyed bond - either from her ignoring him or him hating her for being a Gryffindor.

The guilt grew as she stood up to leave for his class and suddenly remembered one of the nicknames he referred to her by. “My little miracle”.

Trailing behind the other first-year Gryffindors and Slytherins, Evangeline made her way down to the dungeons, going as slowly as she could so that the front seats would all be taken. As she expected, they were. Evangeline hurriedly took the seat in the far corner, away from the door, placing her notebook, quill, and ink in front of her before putting her head down and waiting for Professor Snape to arrive.

In just a few seconds, the class quieted down as the professor arrived, swinging the door open and sternly stating, “There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class.”

Evangeline lifted her head, but not enough to sit upright. Her eyes glanced up at her father, who stood at the front of the class by his desk and towered over the first-years. Staring up at him, she could feel her distress rising. The paranoia eating away at her as she imagined being dumped at an orphanage by the end of the school year, or worse, sometime during Christmas Break.

Evangeline’s gaze turned to her notebook, forcing herself to focus on the blue horizontal lines, red vertical lines, and trying not to cry; being glad her long hair would hide the tears that hydrated her eyes.

“As such, I don’t expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few - “ Snape paused in his sentence, his dark eyes having spotted his daughter sitting in the far corner with her head down. Almost immediately, he knew something was wrong. “ - who possesses the predisposition,” he continued, his gaze hardly wavering from his child, “I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death.”

“Then again,” Evangeline froze, her grip tightening on the sleeve of her robe as she firmly shut her eyes, “maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not pay attention.”

She didn’t look up, hoping he wasn’t talking to her and she wouldn’t end up embarrassing her family further by dropping like a stack of cards. For her sake, she was right.

“Mr Potter, our new celebrity.” Draco Malfoy and his friends, Crabbe and Goyle, sniggered behind their hands, knowing Harry was about to have a very bad morning. “Tell me what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Hermione’s hand shot up into the air, but Snape waited for Harry to answer. Harry glanced at Ron with a confused look, but didn’t answer.

“You don’t know? Let’s try again. Where, Mr Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Harry softly replied.

“And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

Hermione raised her hand so high it almost touched the ceiling. “I don’t know, sir,” Harry said again.

“Pity. Clearly, fame isn’t everything, is it, Mr Potter?”

“Clearly, Hermione knows,” Harry cheekily replies, irritated at being expected to know things like that on his first day of class. “Seems a pity not to ask her.” Yes, he had looked through his books, but did Snape truly expect him to remember everything he read?

His reply garnered chuckles from a few of his peers. “Silence,” Snape ordered, glaring at Harry. That boy is just like his father, he thought angrily. Seeing that Hermione still had her hand up, he snapped at her, “Put your hand down, you silly girl.”

Then, Snape’s gaze slowly shifted to his daughter. Evangeline was daydreaming at this point, having gotten distracted by a particular block in the wall that she had thought looked like a face. Now, she was staring intently at a strand of her hair, wondering if it was much curlier than the others before checking if there were any dead or split ends.

“Ms Prince,” Snape’s sharp tone made Evangeline’s heart skip a beat. She moved her hair behind her ear and looked up at the professor. “Tell me, where would I find a bezoar?”

“I-in the st-stomach of a goat,” she answered, shrinking under everyone’s gaze.

A prideful smirk tugged at Snape’s lips. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

“A sleeping potion.”

“Name?”

“Draught of Living Death.”

Harry’s eyes slightly widened in admiration as he sat up to get a better look at Evangeline, a smirk tugging at his lips. Snape noticed this, and could feel his blood boil at the thought of this boy fancying and pursuing his daughter.

Taking a few steps forward, he blocks Harry’s view of Evangeline. “And now, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane? Potter was incapable of answering with anything other than impudence, which has now lost your House five points. Surely, you can win those points back.”

Evangeline gulps, lightly nodding as she thinks over the question. However, after a few minutes, she found her train of thought derailing and bustling to another station. Snape recognized the far-off look on his daughter’s face - something he had grown used to over the years - and he hoped she wouldn’t get it in her other classes.

When it was clear that Evangeline had entirely forgotten what Snape had asked her, he tapped her notebook and repeated his question, “Difference between monkshood and wolfsbane.”

“Huh? Oh, right. There’s no difference. They’re the same plant and go by a third name, aconite – that came out ruder than I expected.”

Snape suppressed the urge to praise her. “At least one of you Gryffindors has some intelligence. Five points to Gryffindor.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bell rings, signaling the end of class.

Evangeline began packing up her bag, the voice in her head reminding her that she has the afternoon off. One of the places she had been meaning to see in Hogwarts was the Black Lake. She had always liked bodies of water for some reason; they made her feel safe and strangely . . . powerful. Unfortunately, her hopes of spending the rest of her afternoon sitting by the Black Lake were crushed when she heard, “Please stay after class, Ms Prince. We have much to talk about.”

“I apologize, professor, but I have a lot to do,” she nervously laughs, shouldering her bag. “Mountains of homework, and –”

“I insist,” Snape firmly says, his stern tone not going unheard as he blocks her path. “If you use your time wisely, you’ll have all of Saturday and Sunday to finish your homework.”

“Yes, but - “

“Let me rephrase, Evangeline Prince. As your professor, I am insisting that you stay after class to have a discussion with me about your recent behavior - “ he leans down, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper “ - and as your father, if you don’t wish to remain grounded for the foreseeable future, I advise that you stay. Am I clear?”

“Yes, fath - I mean, sir.”

As the last of the students filed out of the classroom, the Slytherins taunting words about how in trouble Evangeline was dying down, Snape guided his daughter out of the classroom and to his office. She stood in front of the round table, looking at the shadowy shelves that housed more of her father’s collection of jars filled with slimy, revolting things.

Snape lit the fireplace, waving his wand in a quick motion. A wooden chair slid across the floor, stopping next to the one in front of the fireplace. “Sit,” he ordered, gesturing to the chair.

Evangeline obediently sat down, placing her bag at her feet and messing with the strap. This was a habit she’d do when she was bored or nervous, and right now, nervousness was all she could feel. Time seemed to slow as Snape brewed and poured a cup of tea, adding Evangeline’s anxiety medication to one of the brews. The sound of the spoon clinking against the cup as he stirred was all Evangeline could focus on until her father would soon inform her she wasn’t his daughter anymore, that he hated her, that he now thought less of her for being a Gryffindor, and that she was –

Teacup in hand, Snape became increasingly worried at her fast-paced, shaky breathing and how tightly her trembling hands held onto the strap of her bag. He could just tell she was on the verge of a panic attack.

He pressed it gently to her lips. “Drink this - it’s your medicine.”

Snape made sure his daughter drank every last drop, and made a mental note to ask his wife to send over all of Evangeline’s medication as she’d need it after all.

Snape sat down in his chair, waiting for the medication to take its effects before he spoke with her about the situation at hand. Once Evangeline’s breathing had slowed and she seemed a bit calmer, Snape asked in a clipped tone, “Where were you on Monday?”

She thought for a moment. “I had double Herbology and Charms. Why?”

“You had a two hour break between classes and dinner, did you not?”

Not knowing where this conversation was heading, Evangeline answered with a confused, “Yeah?”

“So, you had time to come visit me?”

Evangeline was now more confused, and while it was plain on her face, her father mistook it for guilt. Her stammered response was quickly cut off by, “I knew I should’ve expected you weren’t coming when I didn’t get a response from you, but I assumed you were just too tired and had simply forgotten. Still, I expected you to at least pop in. Care to explain what kept you?”

“I - I had a lot of work to do,” she lied.

Snape narrowed his eyes, feeling a mixture of anger and disbelief that his daughter would dare lie to him. “Really? So much so that you couldn’t spare a minute to spend time with your own father?” Evangeline doesn’t answer, looking away to stare at the ground. He sighs. “You’ve been avoiding me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Evangeline wasn’t being very subtle with how she avoided her father.

Snape kneeled beside Evangeline, gently grabbing her chin and turning her head to face him. “Evangeline, darling, look at me,” he says, his voice low and soft, a stark contrast from how he normally spoke. “What is the matter? Don’t tell me you’re fine, I know something is wrong. This - this thing you’re doing - avoiding me - it is unlike you. Did those nasty Gryffindors do something to you? Did they hurt you? I swear if those brats touched a hair on your head –”

She shakes her head. “No! No, they didn’t do anything.”

“Are you sure? Even if they used their words, I’ll make sure they get detention and regret insulting you.”

“Yes, I’m sure. I - “ Evangeline couldn’t get her words out. She wasn’t sure how to tell him how she felt, how she was afraid he’d abandon her.

Suddenly, Snape grabbed his daughter’s face, forcing her to meet his eyes before firmly objecting, his harsh tone barely hiding the hurt he felt, “I would never abandon you.”

Evangeline’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, wondering how he figured out what was bothering her without her saying so. Then, it hit her. Her father was a skilled legilimens. He didn’t use the skill often, but if he felt she, her brother, or her mother was hiding something important from him, he would take a quick peek before deciding if he should intervene.

His grip on her face softened, his thumb beginning to stroke her cheek as the pain became as clear as day in his eyes. Snape’s hands moved to grasp her small ones, his voice much softer now with a hint of fear peeking through, “What in the name of Merlin put that dreadful thought into your head?”

“I - I thought you’d start hating me after the hat sorted me into Gryffindor,” she answered sadly, her voice cracking in the middle of her sentence. “I thought you’d get rid of me.”

“What? No, no, never.” Snape wraps his arms around her, pulling her against his chest and stroking her hair. “I could never get rid of you. Especially for such a ridiculous reason as you getting sorted into Gryffindor.”

“But you hate Gryffindor,” she sobs into his chest.

“Yes, but not you,” he emphasized, caressing her cheek “There is a difference, Evangeline. I could never hate you, even if you are a Gryffindor.”

After a few minutes, Evangeline mumbled, “The hat said I wasn’t suited for Slytherin.” Her voice was so soft that Snape wasn’t sure if he heard her.

“What was that?”

“The hat said I wasn’t suited for Slytherin. It said I was more of a Hufflepuff or Gryffindor.”

“I’m sor–” Snape pulled her away from him, wiping away her tears with his thumb. Confusion welled up inside of him, followed by a simmering frustration at the absurdity of what he was hearing. “What do you mean not suited for Slytherin? And . . . Hufflepuff? You could’ve been placed in Hufflepuff, and the Sorting Hat decides bloody Gryffindor as your House?”

Snape abruptly stands up, pacing around the room as he grumbles under his breath, cursing out the Sorting Hat and its “foolish” decision. He wondered aloud how his daughter could not be suitable for Slytherin. He complained how Hufflepuff would’ve been a better choice for his “precious, little girl,” due to their dedication, kindness, and loyalty, and he firmly believed Evangeline would’ve also flourished in Ravenclaw. “I doubt gymnastics and all those sports you played had anything to do with it,” he mumbled bitterly, “none of them had anything to do with wizardry. I bet that stupid, conniving, insipid hat wanted to ruin my life all over again, just as it did when - “

He paused when he realized he wasn’t making the situation any better by ranting. Evangeline’s sobs, while quiet, were heavy, and she cried more tears than she could wipe away. Snape rushed to her side, cradling her in his arms and consoling her as best he could.

“I am not angry that you are in Gryffindor,” he reminds her, kissing her forehead. “I do not hate you, and I will never abandon you. I realize there are worse things than you being placed in Gryffindor, my dear.” Evangeline let out a long, shaky breath, leaning against her father’s chest as her worries slipped away.

The two stayed on the floor until dinner. For that entire time, Snape didn’t let go of his daughter and didn’t stop reassuring her that he didn’t care that she was in Gryffindor, that she mattered more to him than his hatred for a House, and that she’d always be his daughter.

#severussnape #fempercyjackson #anxiety #fatherhood #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry

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lucielxbe · 3 months

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𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐥'𝐬 𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐠𝐞𝐧. ♰⸝⸝

among the tabs filled with class notes, study material and academic journals; one of them was next gen season two’s auditions. it was surprisingly, truly. it lingered in luciel’s mind for days, enough for him to sign up for it. was it pure curiosity, or the desire to perform on stage? he wasn’t sure. it could be one of them, both or them, or something else — he won’t know. all he knows is that he has to pause a semester to prepare for the unknown future.

survival programs. how exciting.

maybe, he would feel something.

before luciel gets the message that he’s passed the first stage, he’s already prepared to wander into a new place.

—

there was a time when he entered the scene of performances with the piano, so luciel wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with having cameras pointed towards him alongside countless pairs of eyes watching his every move. back then he gradually filled the air with liebesleid, love’s sorrow. in those four minutes of playing, he felt alive, as if his wings could take him to anywhere in the world. an unforgettable divine feeling that withered the moment it bloomed.

luciel finds it comedic, because this time he’s decided to sing black sorrow in sixty seconds. yet another piece with ‘sorrow’ in its title.

he introduces himself first. he didn’t seemed to be the most confident nor charismatic individual amongst the others, but he spoke comfortably, as if there wasn’t any weight on his shoulders. he’s also made sure to present a lovely, charming smile on his face all the while.

in no time, luciel stands still in front of the mic, taking a deep breath with his eyes closed. the music begins. his hands goes around behind the mic, clasping them as if in a prayer while holding it. when he starts singing, only then did he gaze at his audience, and the atmosphere around him shifts into a sombre mood.

he starts off a little hoarse but picks himself back up quickly after. all the while there’s a little smile on his face as he attempts to convey a sentimental story through his vocals.

towards the end, for a brief moment — his smile cracks into desperation, all for the world to see,

"to me, you are my black sorrow."

his right hand reaches out and points to the sky. the story ends in sixty seconds. luciel gives a bow to conclude as he awaits the next segment, as if the emotions from before vanished without a trace.

while he expected a qna section of sorts, he was still surprised by random questions that came to him.

what would you do if you won ₩1,000,000,000 (~$750,000) in the lotto?

luciel was a little speechless at this, of all questions — they went with this for him? money has never been a problem for him, and honestly he would be cheeky and talk about how he doesn’t needs to win the lotto to get that amount… but he shouldn’t, he’s in front of a camera, and he knows what not to say. “charity. donations for orphanages, animal shelters and the like.” it was a really generic answer, but he meant it.

what was the first thing you thought about when you woke up this morning?

he thinks for a while before looking at the camera. “i need my coffee… that’s it. i drink a lot of coffee, and i often brew them for myself. i have a barista license too.”

what two things do you consider yourself to be very bad at?

“i’m perfect at everything, is there anything i’m bad at?” a laugh comes right after, clearly looking like he was making a fun joke. “i’m bad at handling the cold, i get sick often during the winter. i just don’t like the cold. i’m also not great at taking selcas, i could be harsh on myself but i always feel like something’s wrong with them… do i need to take classes for that?”

what style of music/performance suits you best and why?

after all those random questions, one about music finally came. “i grew up playing classical instruments and listening to them, i even used to participate in a piano competition. classical music conveys dramatic emotional stories that comes from the heart, it’s like poetry in the form of music. so i believe that kind of genre suits me,” he takes a pause before continuing. “but of course, i want to show other sides of me that isn’t from that scene and experience unfamiliar genres like rock, and that’s why i’m here.”

luciel soon realises he’s come to the last segment of showing off a unique skill. “it wasn’t for long, but for a while i learned waacking,” he says shyly, but he knows it’s not what people would expect to hear after all that talk about classical music. so naturally, the judges plays music for him to freestyle with. he performs his intricate arm movements to the beat of the music, incorporating some tutting into it. he manages to finish it off cleanly, even adding a blow kiss at the very end for a bit of fanservice. that earned some cheers.

it was his first time showcasing a variety of his skills in such a short time, so luciel wonders if he’s left a deep impression on the judges with the minimal time he had. at the back of his mind, he thought of what would his parents say if they watched his audition.

he wonders if he could have impress them, as he did with the audience before him.

luciel swiftly buries those thoughts away.

#luciel why are you the way you are #be:ngs2p1

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cevallosamelia · 8 months

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Integrated Proyect- Amelia Cevallos

"Preserving the Flow: A Water Conservation Crusade"

Science Fiction; Fiction based on imagined future scientific or technologhical things and enviromental changes.

Story: an account of imaginary or real people and events told for entertainment.

Tale: a fictitious or true narrative or story, especially one that is imaginatively recounted.

One day, I woke up one ordinary morning in my life. As usual, I went to the kitchen to say “good morning“ to my roommates, the ones which I have lived with since I moved to Spain in 2024, now we all became best friends, especially Olivia and Martín. They are Colombian and Italian exchange students that with the passing of the years moved to Spain because they like the Country, the same as me. Besides that, i have to say that that day i had a bad feeling, but i continue my day usually and how i was saying i went to the kitchen also to drink a glass o water so i open the tap of water it suddenly was no longer flowing,water were all driver up and at first i thought that was a problem of the pipelines. I went to ask my roommates if they know if there is a problem with the zone in which we live. While Martin and I were confused, Olivia bring up that she also can’t take a shower because there was no water. Then we received several notifications on twitter. I quickly realized that this wasn't a local issue; it was worldwide. The news confirmed my worst fears, reporting that water had vanished everywhere. The planet was on the brink of a catastrophe. The news that was going to change many lives at that moment, we looked at our cell phones and it said in several posts, "the world has run out of its main resource, the world has run out of WATER!" The faucets ran dry, and not a drop of water remained in any part of the World. Panic gripped me as I rushed outside the apartament, only to realize that the entire world had run out of water.

Desperation led me to all the social media that could possibly exist,previously I grabbed my phone to check out if I could find something of what was happening or maybe a little possibility of any clue that let me know a solution for that horrible situation. Once we didn’t know what to do. One of my friends Came up with an idea, that when I heard it I was shocked. Martín said “I know someone that maybe he could know what to do”. At this time Olivia and I looked at each other strangely and then we laughed. But Martin was sure and serious about the conversation, he also told us that this person that will save us is here in the apartament with us. Then he dropped the bomb and he said, “Amelia you are the one that will bring the water back to the planet”. I was confused and I stood still. We didn’t have time for complaining so I followed the instructions carefully. But also he said that I had in my closet an Old Watch that my parents gave me in 2022. I looked at him not knowing what to do and still very confused , but I just nodded and continued following the instructions.With no time to waste, I decided to embark on a journey to find a solution to the water scarcity that had the planet empty. Little did I know that the answer to this problem lay hidden in the depths of time itself. Armed with determination, I set out to figure out how to travel through time. With trembling hands, I picked up the Watch and turned the dial to a time when water was abundant. Suddenly, I was transported to a place and it was ancient . While I was thinking what I'm supposed to do at that age I turned off my Watch and continued walking. At that moment I realized that my best friends came up with me on this trip.

Olivia:”hey! We were able to come with you one way or another Amelia, now what we should do or where we have to start searching for any solution”.

Martin:”First we need to calm down a little bit because this trip got me very confused and a bit dizzy”.

Amelia:”Okay I think y know what we Can do, obviously we need to make people aware of the priceless value of water”.

Finally, we stumbled upon an ancient civilization and we ask around the place if someone could help us.that had developed advanced water conservation techniques. They showed us how they had thrived in a world with limited water resources. It was an eye-opening experience, and we realized that we needed to learn from the past to build a better future. Armed with newfound knowledge and inspiration, we returned to our time, where we had a plan to implement sustainable water management practices. We worked tirelessly to instill the importance of water conservation in our society, teaching people to cherish every drop. Slowly but steadily, we saw a change in people's attitudes towards water. They began to cut back on wasteful habits and started to use water more responsibly. The world gradually recovered from the water crisis, and our journey through time had made a significant impact. Slowly but steadily, we saw a change in people's attitudes towards water. They began to cut back on wasteful habits and started to use water more responsibly. The world gradually recovered from the water crisis, and our journey through time had made a significant impact. We came back to the present to see if there is a result of all that we made in the past and how we can implement these new strategies in the present.

References:

https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/tale

https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/story

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Science_fiction

video link:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1SMOddZPdxxxhhaE1ycL6GDQz0uQA4J1h/view?usp=share_link

Amelia Cevallos Centeno- 3 A

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onetwofeb · 8 months

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Landscape

The sun is setting behind the mountains, the earth is cooling. A stranger has tied his horse to a bare chestnut tree. The horse is quiet-he turns his head suddenly, hearing, in the distance, the sound of the sea.

I make my bed for the night here, spreading my heaviest quilt over the damp earth.

The sound of the sea— when the horse turns its head, I can hear it.

On a path through the bare chestnut trees, a little dog trails its master.

The little dog-didn’t he used to rush ahead, straining the leash, as though to show his master what he sees there, there in the future—

the future, the path, call it what you will.

Behind the trees, at sunset, it is as though a great fire is burning between two mountains so that the snow on the highest precipice seems, for a moment, to be burning also.

Listen: at the path’s end the man is calling out. His voice has become very strange now, the voice of a person calling to what he can’t see.

Over and over he calls out among the dark chestnut trees. Until the animal responds faintly, from a great distance, as though this thing we fear were not terrible.

Twilight: the stranger has untied his horse.

The sound of the sea— just memory now.