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authorhjk1 · 6 months

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Surviving NNN

Part Two: Almost dead

You put on a loose pair of shorts and a grey shirt, before walking out of your room. It's four in the morning, so everyone is asleep. It's the only time of the day when you can run freely, without having to fear getting caught by crazy fans or the media. The three girls are still sleeping.

Walking out of your room, You head towards the counter to get yourself a glass of water. You do it as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake the sleeping Minju. Heading for the door of your apartment, you stop in your tracks as you stand next to the couch.

Minju is lying in front of it on the mattress. Her eyes are shut, her chest underneath the blanket is heaving and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. You cant help but look at her legs, remembering how she looked last night. The blanket must have moved over night. Her feet and her legs are comletely out in the open. You can see the smoothness of her skin in the light of the flashlight on your phone. Her full thighs look just as good as they did after she came out of the shower.

As your eyes follow her legs upwards, you realize that she barely wearing anything at all. Your breathing stops as you see that something red is peaking out from underneath the blanket. Her panties. You can see the hint of her cheeks, which seem as full as her thighs. A result of her dancing and working out.

You shake your head wildly, trying to clear your thoughts. You have to win this bet. Quickly walking past her, you take your keys from the small bowl Karina put next to the door.

The run does help. It helps getting rid of your situation in your pants, but not so much in your mind. What would've happened if you had taken the blanket to cover her up? You run faster, trying to get that thought out of your head, but it's already too late.

You see her move a little as you pull the blanket over her legs. As you are about to get up, Minju's eyes flatter open.

"Oppa?"

Her sleepy voice makes you hard as she smiles at you, her eyes half closed.

"M-Minju. I thought you might be cold."

She slowly shakes her head.

"Wile having the dream of my life? I don't think so."

"Oh. I apologize if I have woken you up"

Minju shakes her head.

"It's fine, Oppa. Sometimes reality is way better than a dream."

You don't really understand what she is talking about. But it dawns on you, when you stand up.

"Where are you going? You have to make it up to me." The sleepiness in her voice slowly fades, as she looks up at you.

"Make it up to you? Why?"

Lying on her back, Minji slowly pushes the blanket off of her. You try your best. You really do. But her words make you look.

"You left me all hot and bothered in my dream. Shouldn't you take responsibility?

Your eyes wonder over her body. Her face is as cute as it alway is. Her dark eyes seem even darker in the dim light of the moon outside. Complementing her red underwear is a red bra. It's simple, except for the small red bow at the front between her breasts. They aren't as big as Karina's, but then again, most idols can't compare with her.

Minju's shoulders and belly are exposed, showing more of her delicious looking skin. Her red panties are just the right mix of not showing too much and yet showing as much as posiible. If she would turn around, you would guess she is almost wearing a thong. But the place that now has most of your attention is her front.

Right underneath a small red bow, her panties are visibly darker. You can see the outlines of her lips underneath the thin fabric, inviting you to swipe your tongue across their length.

"D-Did you actually dream of me?"

Those are the only words you are able to say.

"I did. And if you are even half as big as in my dream..."

Her voice trails off as Minju's eyes wander to your shorts.

"I-I can't do this. I have a girlfriend."

"Does that mean we can't have a little fun? She isn't here anyways."

"It's not about her being here or not. It's the fact that Karina is my girlfriend."

It becomes harder and harder for you to resist.

"Oh please. You just like her because she has those big boobs. Those are not everything, you know?"

Minju lets a hand sneak towards her bra. She hooks her thumb underneath her right bra strap, before slowly pulling it off her shoulder.

"I might have a smaller chest. But my body has so much more to offer."

Her other hand glides over her midriff.

"Just do what you did in my dream and you will find out what heaven feels like."

"What did I do?"

A sly smirk plays around Minju's lips. She continues wit that seductive tone in her voice.

"I was lying just like this. And you were naked. Your dick was inside my pussy. You plowed my so hard that I felt it everywhere. You choked me as you got closer."

Minju stops for just a second to wrap one of her own hands around her throat.

"Just like this. And after you made me orgasm on your cock, you came in me."

Her other hand moves down to rub herself over the thin fabric.

"You came so much. I was never filled up so good before."

You finally reach your building. Unable to wait another second, you rush through the door to your apartment as soon as the elevator doors open. You don't even glance at Minju as you head for the bathroom. Opening the door, you get in.

A shower. A cold one. That will be the only way to stop this. You are almost about to cum without even touching yourself.

Your heart drops, when you realize you are not alone in the room. Standing in front of the mirror is Yena. Her pink hair wet from the shower she just took. Her toned body only wrapped in a towel. She is reaching upwards, trying to take something out of your cabinet. There is nothing in there that she could use. And yet, you almost have heart attack, as she gets on her tiptoes. Her towel rides higher an higher...

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #kpop yena #yena #choi yena #izone minju #minju #kim minju #aespa #aespa karina

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crimsonbubble · 14 days

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cw. nsfw, afab!reader with big tiddies, hot springs, Johnny has a major staring problem, Kenshi has his eyes, nipple play, oral, threesome, overstimulation, finger sucking *not proofread, just pure horny

[ty @partycatty for being my enabler <333]

It’s hard work to be one of earthrealms champions, so some relaxation is in order.

The hot water of the hot bath is perfect for loosening your taut muscles, sinking further into the water as you let out a quiet moan in satisfaction. You were too absorbed in the warm embrace of the water to notice chatter from just outside the bathhouse.

It was only when you heard a soft ring of your name, opened your eyes and peeking over your shoulder. Kenshi and Johnny stood there, adorned in nothing but towels around their waists. Your eyes widened comically, your arms immediately covered your chest as you moved across the bath.

Kenshi had the decency to avert his eyes away, a rising pink blush sitting high on his cheeks while he muttered out apologies. Johnny stood silently, his eyes downcast at your chest. With your arms over your chest, it pushed them up, merely having your now stiff nipples hidden behind your hands.

Your eyes don’t stay still for long either. Trailing them down the expanse of their bodies, watching the twitch of every muscle and staring incredulously at the bulges forming under their towels. The bold tattoos that covered Kenshi’s skin fit his character too well, highlighting his impressive figure and making him too good-looking to not stare at.

You’ve been meaning to ask to see more of his tattoos and it seems like your prayers have been answered. You’re trying so hard to keep your eyes above the hem of their towels but the bulges there make it hard not to look, praying to whatever god out there to have them drop the towel.

Words are lost in your throat as once you come back to reality, Johnny is caging you against the edge of the bath, while Kenshi is throwing his towel off to the side. From Johnny’s view, he can see the tops of your supple boobs, droplets of water rushing down your skin. You can see the gears turning in his head, making the first move to show him just how much you wanted it.

You carefully uncovered your chest, leaning back against the edge of the bath and cupping your arms under your tits. Johnny’s eyes raced down, cursing as he slotted his lips with yours. His hands easily found your tits, tweaking your nipples between warm hands. You let out a soft moan into Johnny’s kiss, tugging him closer by his damp hair.

Johnny sat on the edge of the bath just out of the water before tugging you into his lap. He kissed down your face, nipping and biting at your neck. His hands continued to grope your chest, his hips bucking up into you. Now without the towel in the way, you can feel just how hard he is. Warm, heavy and pulsing against your clit.

It didn’t take much convincing before you reached between your bodies to take his cock into your hand. You stroked him quickly, getting too impatient to wait any longer. You quickly sank onto his length, your body shuddering as you took him down to the base. Johnny moaned into your neck, taking his kisses down further. His tongue swirled around your nipple before sucking the puffy bud into his mouth.

The feeling of Johnny’s cock resting heavily in your slicked cunt and his mouth playing with your nipples had you writhing, coming undone so easily around him. Kenshi reeled your head back, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. Johnny steadily pumped his cock into you, his thumb tracing circles on your pulsing clit.

You moaned freely into the kiss, your pussy clenching around Johnny. Johnny moans brashly, not caring who hears. Kenshi pulled away from your lips, sliding two fingers against your tongue. You wrapped your lips around his fingers, greedily pressing your tongue to his skin. Kenshi pressed down on your tongue, forcing your mouth to open. Drool spilled from your lips, cascading down your neck and tits.

Kenshi removed his hand from your mouth, making use of his strong hands to fondle your tits. He stood behind you, forcing you to face Johnny as he played with your nipples. Johnny held your hips as you bounced on him, before abruptly pulling you off of him. You whine at the loss, looking over at Johnny with hazy eyes.

He kisses you furiously, moving you to bend over the edge of the warm bath. Kenshi is now sitting in front of you. With how you’re positioned, your tits brush against his aching cock. Stiff nipples brushed against his leaking tip. You press a chaste kiss to his tip, swirling your tongue around his thick head. Kenshi caressed your face softly, as Johnny quickly filled your pussy again, not so softly.

The sudden movement of Johnny bottoming out inside you, had your mouth swallowing around Kenshi. He moaned at the way your throat constricted around him. He gently guided your mouth, shallowly thrusting his cock into your pretty mouth. The constant in and out had you reeling, over the moan as you drowned in pleasure.

Johnny dragged his fingers over your needy clit, laughing breathlessly when you jolted and tightened around his cock. You bob your head slowly, dragging your tongue along the underside of Kenshi’s dick. The constant push and pull of Johnny’s hands and hips had you sputtering around Kenshi’s cock. Johnny presses a hand to the middle of your back, indirectly forcing your head down to the base of Kenshi’s dick.

Kenshi places a hand on the back of your head, holding your mouth at his base as he twitched and bucked his hips. With a few shallow thrusts, Kenshi stiffened, holding your mouth on him as he came in short spurts, coating your mouth in white. You pulled off of him with heavy breaths, too dizzy from the pleasure to focus on anything.

Johnny still had a tight hold of your hips, mesmerized by the way your body shook and jolted against him. Johnny’s orgasm followed soon after, his fingers continuing to toy with your wet clit. Your messy cunt clamped around his cock, pulsing with each sticky rope of cum that he poured into you.

Johnny pulled out slowly, watching as his cum leaked out of you, coating your sore pussy in a scandalous white.

Of course, one round is never enough though.

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puffcap-factory · 13 days

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Raindrop (Neuvillette x reader)

Neuvillette x gn!reader; Angst, pure angst in a somewhat established relationship, reader’s implied death.

The story is set when the reader’s time is running out (of whatever cause you can imagine), and Neuvillette is sad. The reader is implied to be Fontainian.

Notes: Finally, a genshin fic other than Wriothesley! I literally wrote this when I was listening to Pluie sur la ville (definitely recommended on listening the ost while reading this one!!!!! I recommend this music box version for this fic tho, it fits so well) and imagined Neuvillette brooding over something. That’s why this fic is short, cos I basically just wanted a story of Neuvillette basically feeling angsty heheheh

Anyways, I hope you enjoy! :D

•~•~•~•

Swish. Swish.

With each pull of the oar, the water responded in kind flow, sending out delicate ripples that painted the pond's surface. Pink flower petals twirled to the movement of the waves, a graceful accompaniment to the wooden paddle's gentle strokes.

The boat drifted leisurely through the clear water, its movement smooth and serene, like a dream on liquid glass. The rustling of the wind added its voice to the nature, tousling your hair as you reached to fix it.

The man seated across from you returned your gaze with a warm, genuine smile. His eyes seemed to hold a depth that mirrored the tranquil pond, and his smile filled the space between you. In this secluded forest of Erinnyes, it felt as though the entire world had faded away, leaving just the two of you to share the moment.

As the boat reached the center of the pond, he gently set down the oar. You took the moment to reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

But your eyes wandered to the water rippling near the pond's edge, fed by a nearby creek. The question escaped your lips as you voiced your curiosity, as you held his hands in yours.

"Do you think that… water possesses the will to flow freely?"

Neuvillette met your gaze, his expression thoughtful as he pondered your unexpected question. After a moment, he spoke, his voice carrying a hint of contemplation.

“I would like to believe that they do, why?”

His answer brought a bittersweet smile to your lips as you kept your gaze to the creek. You brought his hand to your cheek, savoring the warmth of his touch. For just a moment, you allowed yourself to close your eyes, as if to capture this fleeting moment, knowing it might be the last time you two would have such a peaceful interlude together.

“I just want to know…,” you paused, the words catching in your throat before you continued, “so when the time comes, I can… find you.”

As you opened your eyes, you found Neuvillette still, his expression hiding a mix of fear and sadness beneath his composed facade. You already knew him well enough to see the emotions hidden behind his eyes.

Neuvillette sighed heavily, lowering his head and letting his hand fall to his side. His gaze shifted to the side, facing the waters of the pond. He knew full well what the future held, as much as he dreaded it, it was inevitable.

“One day, Neuvillette, once I become the water itself, I’d be happy to visit you anytime,” you said softly.

The cloudy skies overhead seemed to mirror the heaviness in your heart. As much as you dreaded broaching this topic, especially at this tranquil moment, you felt the pressing weight of your impending fate. The time left for the both of you to enjoy each other’s company had grown short, each passing moment a reminder like of the ticking clock.

“Promise me, love, that you would move on. Just as water finds its way, no matter how many obstacles it faces, no matter how lost it may seem,” you whispered, your voice sweet and tender, as if to ease his pain, just as your own.

Neuvillette’s heart clenched at your words, the reality of your mortality weighing heavily on his shoulders. As the hydro dragon sovereign, he knew all too well that your time with him was fleeting, a mere fraction of his own eternity.

“I haven’t got to say this before, but,” you paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I really do cherish the time with you. The years we've spent together have been everything to me,” you mustered the strength to speak, pouring your heart out, as your voice began to tremble.

Pitter. Patter.

The sound of raindrops began to fill the air, as light rain fell upon the surface of the pond. Neuvillette remained still, his head turned away, keeping the emotions stirring within him as his brows furrowed.

But you already knew him well enough to understand what he was feeling, what the rain meant. You immediately leaned forward, cupping his face in your hands as you gently caressed his cheeks. “Oh, my Hydro Dragon, please don’t weep…”

Neuvillette met your gaze, pain evident in his eyes. He understood your attempt to comfort him, to ease his sorrow, as the warmth of your hand seeped into him.

But why could he see tears rolling down your cheeks?

•~•~•~•

Swish. Swish.

Neuvillette stood at the water's edge, his gaze fixed on the waves, ebbing and flowing gently. The rhythm of their motion seemed to echo the gentle beating of his own heart. The sky above was serene, a canvas of quietude painted by the sound of the crashing waves.

Despite his busy days, there were moments like these when Neuvillette couldn't help but feel swept away by a wave of nostalgia. It was as if the water itself was reaching out to him, whispering memories of days gone by.

As if you had come to visit him every now and then.

He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to fully embrace the tranquility of the scene before him. The rhythmic swish of the waves, the soft caress of the sea breeze on his skin – it all felt like a familiar embrace. Exhaling slowly, Neuvillette savored this fleeting sense of peace, letting go of the weight of his responsibilities for just a moment longer…

However, the role of Iudex remained. With a reluctant sigh, he opened his eyes and gazed out to the horizon. It was time to step back from the shore, to leave behind this moment of solace and return to the duties that awaited him.

A man of few words – Neuvillette carried the memory of you deep within his heart, a cherished treasure that he held onto tightly. As he made his way back, the gentle lull of the waves behind him seemed to bid him farewell. No matter how busy his days became, your presence would always linger in the depths of his soul.

#neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfic #genshin angst #neuvillette angst #neuvillette x reader angst

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majaloveschris · 3 months

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"he does all this because she is the one and he is so in love" /////

I believe everyone needs to realize if the above were true then there’d be no debate as to if this is a real or PR relationship.

The simple fact that so much comes out about them to drive or paint a narrative, only for Chris to be the complete opposite physically of how he expresses things ……says enough.

People can call us delusional for not believing this relationship, but I call those who blindly believe what’s purposefully crafted for you to believe gullible and delusional ….to think that this man who has been in the spotlight for 20+ yrs, whose expressed his emotions freely, who stated what he wanted in a relationship in the SMA article only to go public with the complete opposite two days later. To think he’s done a 180 in the worst way due to “being in love”…..nah, I’m not buying what’s being sold.

One has to ask themselves why are all these articles trying to paint him and her as so in love, yet REALITY based on their own body language and expressions show you the complete opposite?!

Show me ONE pic or video shot of them not aware they are being filmed acting or looking so “in love”.

(Oops that already happened …..in the park when he put his hand in his pocket as she reached for it.)

Even the purposefully crafted Valentine’s Day montage and the scare videos seemed fake and staged, every new update the past few months just adds to the speculation that this is bs based on their own actions.

What couple so in love acts like they don’t know or like each other like that. People claim we get a glimpse in their lives, but it’s been two freaking years of bs, regardless of not knowing their every move every single day, we can clearly see something isn’t genuine.

Even after the marriage confirmation from this man’s own mouth, it STILL doesn’t add up based on HIS own actions/inactions.

If Chris was genuinely happy and in love……we’d clearly see it, not have to “read” about it.

I agree with you! I think it's important to note that this whole "PR or real" debate started because of them. It started with them kind of alluding that something is going on with different things (NYE 1.0., LV, the follows and likes) while not admitting they are "together" and then continued with the NYC pap walk 1.0. As you said, if from the very beginning we'd seen how happy and in love he is, Team PR probably wouldn't even exist. I'm not saying there wouldn't be people out there who believe it's PR, but not this amount, for sure.

I agree that his body language is always off and weird around her, like he isn't comfortable or like he is forced to be there. And considering the things you've mentioned, everything seems so fake and manufactured. We saw him being out with his girlfriends for years, and I'm not saying they were always smiley and all over each other, but there were clear moments where you could see they were in love, but there isn't a single one with Alba.

I don't blame people who think this is real. Most people just don't care enough about them or simply think whatever they say must be true. I think there are people on both sides who are "delusional" (I don't really like using this word though), believing and creating things that are clearly bullshit, or thinking that everything that happens proves a point.

It's truly weird to see the contrast between the articles and their body language. They are supposed to be "the one" for each other, yet they behave more intimately with their friends and seem to be more comfortable and natural around them. His body language and behavior should be the three times of everything we saw from his previous relationship since he is "head over heels" for her, but where is that huge love? I don't see it.

I think the NYC Pap Walk 1.0. video you mentioned was a big turning point. I mean, that pap walk was awful, but seeing how tragic it was behind the scenes was really interesting. He clearly didn't want to hold her hands, and to this day, they always walk next to each other as if they were just fighting a few minutes before.

The VD day dump didn't help either. Everything just feels so unnatural, fabricated, and out of character for him. I know we don't know him, but we saw how he acted in this previous relationship, and maybe if I saw that huge love we are supposed to see, I would believe he's changed his habits, but I see the exact opposite. And the wedding story has a lot of plot holes too.

The words, spoken and written, just don't match the body language.

#majaloveschris #chris and alba pr #cevans-love #chris and alba relationship #chris and alba wedding #chris and alba in nyc

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mydarlingbat · 4 days

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I freaking love this issue so freaking much. The whole concept of Batman Europa is absolutely amazing. It's fun. It's worth the read. Lets just point out that Batman has called the Joker his partner at the very beginning of Batman Europa #2 which leads me back to what I was saying in the relationship between Batman and Joker, that Batman always acknowledge that they're partners. Moreover Batman tries to pick a fight with the Joker while he's just talking to him. I mean give the man a break. He's not even trying to hurt Batman in this comic. He's behaving himself reasonably well, although we can't ignore the reality of Batman allowing the Joker to prefer himself as Batman's sidekick too.

Now when he grasps the Joker's arm. We know it's not a firm grip. The Joker easily jerk his arm back, and then Batman reaches over to grab for his hand possibly again? Though he doesn't get to say anything else, because Nina interrupts them. I do feel like Batman needs to feel like their some Kind of contempt between the two of them, or a little disputing to feel like it's their usually pattern. It's their dance. He doesn't like to see this side of the Joker, and especially have to acknowledge it. The way the Joker keep informing to Bruce that they'll die together, and Batman doesn't even want to hear that. It got me laughing so much.

Batman complimenting how fast the Joker is in this panel is just life. If that clown can move that fast you know he could have killed Batman, and he's infected too.

Now the Joker just murder someone again, and Batman still works with him after this! And on top of that Batman trusts him? Like how???

Batman doesn't even sound mad that the Joker just murdered someone? I mean he's actually just like yeah, let's finish up this journey. He doesn't even mention it later in the comic.

Batman thought he was going to die, but the Joker saves his life, and he doesn't exactly want to acknowledge it, but he does anyways.

I just love this page. The Joker eyes are to the side, like he's not exactly sure how to function right now. He doesn't know how to fit this into their relationship. I mean I love it. The awkwardness that's establish between both of them is so obvious. I can't stress enough of how much I admire this page. The way Batman doesn't even want to look at the Joker. Oh my god the way the Joker refuse to look at the Batman for a little while. The tension is thick. Batman's 'shut up' line is practically for the Joker when he says something true or something plain stupid. Batman constantly says shut up when the Joker says things about Batman caring about him, but the Joker tells Batman he loves him all the time, and Batman doesn't say shut up. I don't want to hear that, but Batman denies his own feelings towards him, so Batman despises the mention of him caring about the Joker. He tries to shut it down rather quickly. Batman and Joker feel the need to lay out some sort hostility, when they're not doing their usual routine, so the Joker tells Batman he regrets saving him. He's not happy about it. That makes the tension between them settle down a bit, but right after this the Joker saves Batman once again in Batman Europa #3 The Joker also immediately jumps back to Nina, to avert the attention somewhere else, which works.

Batman still isn't exactly ready to look at the Joker, but the Joker goes over to have a conversation with Batman. Batman responds hostile as always, but Batman doesn't deny the Joker request exactly. He just reminds the Joker that they're dying, and the way the Joker gently and cautiously rests his hand on Batman's shoulder, making sure he's alright with him touching him right now is adorable and actually is nice.

The fact that the Joker has to turn around to say those sweet words to the Batman. Let's me know they're not too familiar with this kind of thing.

Batman now is comfortable enough to let the Joker freely touch him again. Batman doesn't deny it. He also doesn't inform to the Joker that they will never be friends, because deep down Batman knows that the Joker is his friend. It's just my opinion.

#batjokes #batman and joker #comics #batman #batman x joker #comic books #dc comics #the joker #batmm #dcedit #words

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anthurak · 6 months

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One aspect of Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel that I’ve always found particularly interesting is the power-dynamics between the Human Sinners and the native Demons of Hell. And how the differences between them are far more complex than they might first appear.

See, on paper it might seem like the Sinners get the far better deal while the Hellborn Demons are effectively second-class citizens in their own home. The Sinners are effectively immortal, can seemingly only be permanently killed by angelic weapons/powers and can wield much more power than the average Imp, Succubus or other demon, with some of the Sinner Overlords even wielding power apparently comparable to that of the Goetia nobility. Even the official word of the creators listing the ‘classes’ of Hellish society put the Sinners above all of the Hellborn Demons save for the Goetia.

However, while this may seem clear-cut on paper, I have a feeling that the reality is FAR more complex than it may first appear. And that there is actually a very interesting aspect that the native demons hold over the Sinners.

Because for all their apparent superior power and immortality, at the end of the day the Sinners are still prisoners. And not just of Hell in general, but a single part of it. Vivzie has also confirmed that Sinners are confined specifically to the Pride Ring, and cannot travel to other areas of Hell.*

Meanwhile, we’ve seen on multiple occasions that there isn’t anything keeping the Hellborn Demons confined to any specific Ring. Despite supposedly being the lowest in Hell’s societal hierarchy, it seems that even Imps and Hellhounds can travel between the Rings freely.

And that’s not even touching on the fact that Hellborn Demons can outright travel to EARTH ITSELF if they want to. Sure, it may not be as easy for them as traveling to other areas of Hell, but it’s clear that there ARE ways for native Demons to go to Earth, and that it happens fairly often.

Despite their apparent lower class and power, it seems like the native Demons of Hell conversely enjoy far more freedom than the Sinners do. Really think about how Sinners like Alastor and Valentino wield power and authority approaching that of Hell’s nobility, yet a ‘lowly’ Imp like Blitzo, Moxxie or Millie does things every day that they simply… CAN’T.

And that’s not even diving into one VERY significant aspect of life in Hell that I imagine effects these two groups VERY differently:

The yearly Extermination.

It’s not clear yet just how Heaven’s yearly purge of Sinners effects the Hellborn Demons, but I imagine in basically any instance, they have a MAJOR advantage over the Sinners. It’s very likely that the extermination is confined to the Pride Ring itself, since that’s where all the Sinners are. Meaning that even if the Exorcists are totally indiscriminate and go around blasting everything that moves, the native Demons can simply LEAVE Pride to go elsewhere in Hell where it’s safe for the day, whereas the Sinners are stuck in their prison at the nonexistent mercy of the Angels. It’s even possible that the Exorcists simply don’t target Hellborn Demons at all during the yearly purge, focusing specifically on Sinners.

Which means that for all their possible power and status, most Sinners have basically a 50-50 or worse shot of straight up dying every year. While the natives of Hell simply… DON’T have to deal with that.

The funny thing is, the more I’ve thought about it, the more it feels like this same dynamic applies not just to the Sinners and the Demons, but to other levels of Hellish society. Where those with less power end up having more freedom than those with more power.

For one, this idea of ‘power and status coming at the cost of freedom’ has been a key theme of Stolas’ character since the start of Season 2 of Helluva Boss. That Stolas was born into all this power and status, yet has had his entire life effectively dictated to him from day one. Which is why he threw himself so completely into his tryst with Blitzo, as it felt liberating for him.

For another example, let’s look at the Goetia nobility like Stolas as a whole and the Kings of Sin like Asmodeus. It’s been made pretty clear that the Sins are about as far above the Goetia as the Goetia are above the likes of Imps and Hellhounds. That for all their flaunting of power and status, the Goetia are effectively ‘middle-management’ while the Sins are pretty much the ‘God-Emperors’ of Hell.

Yet when we consider the possibility that all of the Sins are Fallen Angels just like Lucifer, an interesting wrinkle in this dynamic emerges: If all seven of the Sins were originally expelled from Heaven for whatever transgressions/rebellions/basic mistakes, that could mean they are actually PRISONERS of Hell just like the Human Sinners! Certainly they may be able to travel between the areas of Hell freely, but still nonetheless trapped in Hell overall.

Which would mean that despite the massive difference in power and authority, the Goetia like Stolas can do ONE key thing that even the might, all-powerful Sins cannot:

They can leave Hell if they want to.

And on top of all this, this dynamic even extends beyond Hell. Just look at what we’ve seen of Heaven. On paper, Heaven seems to be, well Heaven. With the Angels holding enormous power, status and wealth. Yet it’s also clear that Heaven is this EXTREMELY rigid, controlling society where even the lowest-ranked members are tightly monitored.

And where even the slightest slip-up can potentially cost you EVERYTHING.

The episode C.H.E.R.U.B. really did give us a VERY interesting look at the dynamics between Heaven and Hell. On the one hand, I.M.P. is this cheap, ramshackle startup company while C.H.E.R.U.B. is flashy, well-maintained and even the Heaven equivalent of government-funded. But on the other hand, Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie clearly operate with ZERO oversight from any kind of higherup, can operate pretty much however the fuck they want, and also have access to a crazy powerful demonic artifact, even if Loona seems to be the only one who actually knows how to use it. Meanwhile, Cletus, Collin and Keenie got straight-up expelled from Heaven PERMANENTLY for being accidentally involved in the death of ONE human.

*The nature how the Sinners are confined and what is actually ‘keeping’ them in the Pride ring is still pretty unclear, but I have to imagine this is some ‘Divine Mandate’ thing, tied to whatever sends human sinners to Hell in the first place. Meaning that Sinners literally CANNOT leave Pride through any means, probably with some impassible barrier around any way out of Pride. Like if one of I.M.P.s clients tried to pull a fast one and jump through a portal Loona made to Earth, they would probably just bounce right off of it. And that’s the charitable option. Another possibility is that a Sinner leaving the Pride Ring in any way just straight up dies. As in, incinerated in divine or infernal flames if they pass outside the boundaries of Pride. Or perhaps Sinners simply can’t survive outside of Pride.

#helluva boss #hazbin hotel #helluva boss analysis

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revasserium · 12 days

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a rumination on falling in love; aka the terrifying and strange reality of "dream girl" becoming "real girl"

or, what happens when an only child who has only ever loved in fiction falls in love in real life instead

this is not for you. unless, of course. you, like me, have felt like this before. which is to say, this might be for you. but it most definitely is, 100%, for me. so read on if you'd like. or, close out and move right along.

i am very lucky, i think, to have had the childhood that i had -- only child, two loving parents. but not only that, two loving parents who were good at loving and also good at parenting (which are two very distinct and different things and somehow, at least in my semi-limited exposure to people around my age, is becoming rarer and rarer these days). i am lucky to have been allowed to grow as i have -- to never question that i am loved, unconditionally and endlessly, to never question whether or not i have something -- because of course it's mine -- i've got no siblings to have to share anything with.

now, to some, that might be a sad, lonely thing, but i never thought about it that way. because i was never taught to think about it that way. and contrary to popular belief, it hasn't made me (or at least so i think) stingy or "bad at sharing" -- it's actually made me rather an over-sharer. i always have snacks at the office, i try to offer advice freely, i spot dinners/outings when i can, i like the joy it brings to share things not only to the people being shared with, but also to me -- the person doing the sharing.

but the double-edged sword of only-child-dom in upper-middle class america is time -- the huge, gaping excess of it, giant swaths of it after school, great big chunks of it on the weekends, the seemingly unbridgeable chasm between turning off the light and falling asleep. later, i'd learn that undiagnosed adhd and very high performing manic depression are to blame for most of my vibrating sense of need to fill every hour of every day with some kind of productivity (this, unironically, is why i love new york city -- the frenetic energy of it matches my mental wavelength so that i can feel "productive" even when i'm just walking down the street or sitting in a bar).

but back then, i -- and by extension my lovely parents -- tried to fill it with stuff -- 2 different art classes, ballet, swimming, piano, debate club, singing, chinese school, and of course, with my still yet unfilled hours -- reading and writing. to say i was raised by the books i read would be an understatement. to say i am nothing more than a massive conglomerate of those characters that resonated most with me in those books would be parenthetical to the fact that i'm also built by all those characters i've ever admired or wanted to be. i am, in the most cliche, literal, non-lampshaded sense "that nerdy book girl" who made it her entire fucking personality to be... that nerdy book girl. and this, amidst the stratospheric rise of "not like other girls" media and rhetoric -- it was not healthy (it still isn't), but it was a large part of who i was. and a lingering part of who i am today.

my overactive, adhd-driven imagination served me well, then. into the stories i delved, and what i couldn't find in my normal every day life, i found in narrative. long before the tiktok-ification of "book boyfriends" came the voices in my head that sounded like all the would-be book boyfriends i'd ever have -- everyone from edward cullen to kakashi to four (that one guy from divergent who only has like 4 fears, which in retrospect is so, so cringe, but alas) to fictionalized versions of one direction members. the list goes on. i used to be able to hold entire conversations, play out entire scenes with these mental constructs with impudent ease. spend hours in my room by myself just imagining.

it was like astral projection -- my body, here, my mind and my soul, somewhere else entirely. and this i believe (to this day) is the core of a lot of my writing and creativity. and also the core of a lot of my philosophies and beliefs. the ability to sink into a dream, a scene, a story.

and then. i fell in love.

and sure, it would be much too cliche to say that misery breeds good art so a happy artist would (at best) produce mediocre art/writing/whatever. because i've also seen fantastic art produced by very, very happy artists. the sad truth is only that it's much rarer than the alternative of the painfully mainstream tortured artist.

but to some degree, i think there's an inkling of truth in that saying. because having a real-life boyfriend, with all the real-life machinations and strings of having said real-life boyfriend has made it, somehow, much harder to access that old imaginary part of me. like a child growing up and losing the ability to "make believe" the way they used to. except, i know it's still there. there are still moments where i touch it, where i dip my toes in and it always feels like coming home.

and it's more than just the normal adult-ish responsibilities of going to work and paying bills, making dinner and shopping for groceries. doing laundry and investing in your roth ira. because before real-life boyfriend, i still did those things and i was still able to seamlessly get to that "elsewhere place". somehow, it is the physical presence of real-life boyfriend that seems to act as a "grounding agent". he is home, so i can't go to that other place. or, i can kind of get there, but i've always still got one foot steeped in reality.

it is not a necessarily good or bad thing, just an observation at most. but it does create this new "space" for the "want" of that elsewhere. for the want to being able to slip into that creative asphodel like i used to -- blink and i'm there. so i find myself often sitting at my desk, wishing, and then wondering what it means that i can't. that it isn't always and immediately accessible to me anymore.

perhaps absolute solitude was the unquestioned prerequisite for so long that i'd never noticed it until the solitude was no longer available to me. or perhaps the book-boyfriends are just shy creatures, afraid of the blaring daylight that real-life boyfriend might shed on their ultimate two-dimensional beings.

or perhaps that was always a "safe space" that i'd created for myself, and now real-life boyfriend has created a safe space for me too, and the venne-diagram of the two space spaces overlap just so, making a less singular space of each of them in turn. i don't know, but it's an interesting thought.

it's always struck me, now thinking back, that i've never been even remotely interested in having a real-life relationship before now. but that i've also never questioned if i wanted the current one that i'm in, if this was "the one" or if it was "good for me". and in that too, i know i am very lucky. few people can say that they struck gold the first time they've ever tried.

i know for a fact i wouldn't be this happy, have this good of a life if real-life boyfriend weren't here. he has made me better in ways that i do not have words to describe. but i'm also terrified of the earthen grounding-ness of him. i've spent my entire childhood and most of my adult life with my head in the clouds, taking the necessary trips back down to earth when i had to but... it feels strange to be "here" more and more. there's a hole inside of me where "that" heaven should be.

but two things can be true -- i am happy here; i still yearn for that elsewhere.

#🌧 raindrops #i rarely get this personal on this blog but #i wanted to write this out; for myself if for no one else #mostly a rumination on how my relationship has changed me and my creative process

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shinidamachu · 6 months

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CHAPTER TEN: Can I Have This Dance?

SUMMARY: “and I’d choose you. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.” – Kiersten White. For each chapter, a prompt from the One Hundred Ways to Say I Love You list. WORDS: 1.570 GENRE: fluff FANDOM: Inukag FORMAT: multichapter ALSO FOUND ON: AO3

Kagome was many, many things. That much, Inuyasha knew.

Impossibly kind, of course, was one of them.

He had heard of kindness before, even held it for a while, back when he didn’t know just how easily it could slip through his fingers. Then he grew to learn he wasn’t worthy of it and figured if he didn’t deserve it, neither did everyone else.

Kagome, however, had different ideas. Her kindness was a miracle thrusted upon a non believer. He dared not to pray for it, mocked the ones who had faith such a thing even existed, but experiencing it firsthand still brought him to his knees at the end of the day. To share her generosity with the world so freely was bold, if a little naive. To share her generosity with the likes of him? It was nothing short of incredible.

Add courageous to the list. Kagome was so, so brave, it surprised and scared him in the very same amount. It was a strange balance between reverent pride and inadequate fright, because she was his to protect and yet not his at all.

She was smart, too. Or at least one might say she was. Inuyasha wouldn’t. A smart girl would have left long ago without thinking twice when he offered the chance. A smart girl wouldn’t keep on coming back. And he could have never, ever blamed her for it.

Gorgeous. There was no denying that she was. Even though, for reasons Inuyasha wasn’t quite ready to explore, he couldn’t help but deny it, especially to himself.

And sure, after a lot of practice — and a whole lot of failure — the girl became a formidable fighter with a bow on her hand and some arrows in her quiver.

Yes, Kagome was many, many things.

But she wasn’t at all graceful. In fact, Kagome was the type of person to stumble over her own two left feet. On flat surfaces. Constantly.

Then why couldn’t he take his eyes off of her? Why were they so obstinate on following her every fumbling move as she danced — tried to dance — with the villagers in this silly little festival of theirs?

If Inuyasha had it his way, they would never have stopped for that sort of useless distraction, not when they were in the middle of a world changing quest. Staying put did nothing to nudge them towards their goal, nor did it soothe that feeling inside, urging him to keep going, reminding him that he wasn’t allowed to waste time, that the enjoyment of the simplest things caused a false sense of security he couldn’t afford, a happiness he wasn’t permitted.

Besides, bad things always seemed to happen whenever he decided to stay around humans — other than his own — for too long. Still, it was four against one. Again. And Inuyasha had to admit: the prospect of warm, seasoned food wasn’t exactly unappealing.

The village was an explosion of vibrant colors, cheerful sounds and appetizing smells. Inuyasha didn’t know or cared about what there was to celebrate. The plan was short and clear. Eat. Get some rest. Then leave at first light.

That was until Kagome thought it was a good idea to drag Shippo to the direction where the music was coming from.

To Inuyasha’s surprise, not a single nose twitched. Nobody screamed obscenities or ran for the hills. Shippo’s presence was welcomed into the dancing crowd like he was just another person. Like it didn’t matter who he was, what he was.

But Inuyasha remained grounded.

He had made that mistake once or twice: letting his guard down, thinking it might be different this time around, only to pay the price at the end.

Although Shippo was a demon, a seemingly inoffensive kid didn’t pose as much of a threat as Inuyasha, with his sharp claws and fangs. The best course of action was to not push his luck and keep a low profile. That way, they could co-exist in relative peace.

Worst case scenario he would get to watch while Kagome danced.

He smirked.

Her unusual clothes made her stand out in an almost comical manner, but Inuyasha had no doubt he’d recognize her anywhere, anytime, even if they didn’t give her away.

There were flowers all over Kagome’s wild hair, their soft shades contrasting with her dark onyx. She was doing her best to keep up and, ever the fast learner, was struggling considerably less to do so now than at the beginning. Barefoot, Kagome would laugh at any missed steps and fall right back in the rhythm, delighted to merely be there, trying.

It was a sight to behold, the way she inadvertently brightened the entire place, the way she captured the attention of everyone present without even meaning to.

“Enjoying the view, I see.”

“Fuck off,” Inuyasha replied, pushing Miroku’s suggestive face away, promptly returning his gaze to Kagome.

Their eyes locked and she smiled, enthusiastically waving for him to join her. Inuyasha refused the offer with a shake of head that held more politeness than he usually would care to show for anyone else, flattered that she’d even thought to ask.

Kagome rolled her eyes good-naturedly and went back to dancing, knowing him too well to act surprised.

“It’s not chivalrous to deny a dance to a lady.”

“Good ‘cause I ain’t no gentleman.”

“Just dance with her already. You know you want to.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Leave him alone, Monk,” Sango finally chimed in, “he obviously doesn’t have the guts.”

Inuyasha scowled at her, coming dangerously close to taking the bait, but recognized it for what it was in time.

“This isn’t gonna work, ya know?”

“Well, then maybe this will.”

Sango pushed him and suddenly Inuyasha found himself surrounded by swirling villagers. His brain went into overload, desperate to decide what would be less mortifying: slowly retreating and giving Sango the satisfaction of calling him a coward or… dancing.

That’s when Kagome saw him — her contagious smile growing into a full beam — and reached for him. So he opted for what felt right, for what felt natural.

He went to her.

Inuyasha was painfully aware of how stupid he looked. How was it possible to feel more comfortable fighting demons twice his size than following a goddamn choreography?

Against all odds, he persisted, determined to cross the distance between them. Only every time they got close, the steps demanded them to move in opposite directions.

A lot of clapping, swinging and twisting later, Inuyasha was at the verge of giving up when, by some miracle, they got face to face. His excitement lasted all of the two seconds it took for the music to end and the crowd to disperse. They stood there, a tad bit breathless, a tad bit awkward. Inuyasha scratched his head while she blushed, both avoiding eye contact at any costs. Kagome mumbled something about finding Shippo and left him wondering if she was as disappointed as he felt.

Everything went smoothly and uneventfully from there. Miroku and Sango had the decency to keep their mouths shut and the food was, indeed, fantastic. They set camp on the outskirts of the village — there were no huts available, so Miroku didn’t even try to pretend that granting them the Shogun’s quarters was essential to eradicate the supposedly great evil that lurked the area — and bathed on the nearby river, where Inuyasha was headed.

His friends had turned in for the night, but sleep evaded him. Every time he closed his eyes, Kagome was there, dancing like a dream: beautiful and just out of his reach. His mind made a point out of burning the images to memory and replaying them in the sweetest kind of torture.

He was filling Kagome’s canteens with water, figuring it would be wise to use his restlessness to get at least one chore out of the way come morning, when his ears twitched at the unmistakable sound of her approach.

“Inuyasha?”

“Hey! Watcha doin’ up?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Refilling.”

“Is that so?” He didn’t reply, so after a pause she continued, “I had fun earlier.”

“Yeah, I know.” Inuyasha cleared his throat, then confessed, “me too.” Even though I’m not supposed to, he mentally added.

“Can I have this dance?”

That caught him completely off guard. Inuyasha genuinely thought their chance had passed.

Kagome took the canteen out of his grasp and put it safely on the ground, his heart lapping furiously at the accidental brush the gesture caused. She reached her hand again, the same way she did before, waiting for his answer.

Inuyasha tilted his head.

“There’s no music.”

“I don’t mind, I just… I wanted to dance with you today.”

It was all he needed to hear in order to get up and take her warm hand with his cold, wet one, watching as she ever so gently interlocked their fingers without seeming to care.

They looked at each other, their noses nearly touching until Kagome set the pace, using their connected hands to spin herself away from him only to then step back into his hold, her cheeks now against his chest, her other palm resting on his shoulder. Inuyasha snaked an arm around her waist and they swayed in place under the moonlight.

It was nothing like the gleeful moves from the villagers, but in that stolen moment, Inuyasha swore.

He could hear music.

A/N.: written for @inuvember and dedicated to @goshinote as a very belated birthday gift. This was heavily inspired by that one scene in Tangled, with a touch of Delena at the end. Hope you guys enjoy.

#Inuvember #Inuvember 2023 #Inuyasha #Kagome #Kagome Higurashi #Inukag #Inukag fic #One Hundred Ways To Say I Love You #My writing

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mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess · 10 months

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Sleep in

Inspired by this post:

This is written especially so someone doesn't ever call for a mutiny against me again for being evil and writing angst, you know who you are.

Everyone else, enjoy!

Warnings: angst and death

Morning light filters through the window, gentle and warm, a golden undertone to the white glow. It shines beautifully on Lan Wangji’s face, bathing it as if into a halo.

Wei Wuxian caresses his cheek, the touch feather-light, the skin underneath his fingertips soft.

“You’re so beautiful in the morning, Lan Zhan. Most people look a mess when they wake up, yet you’re nothing short of a god.”

Lan Wangji’s eyelids flutter open, molten gold glimmering in the sunlight as his eyes take in his surroundings and his husband’s beautiful face, loving and fond, hair cascading over his form like endless, dark rivulets.

“I’m so happy to have you, Lan Zhan. To have had you.” His fingers trace over the man’s sharp jawline, and stop at the seam of his lips. “I love you more than words could say, more than I could ever express through anything I’d ever do.”

Lan Wangji tries a smile, the corners of his mouth weakly turning upwards.

“I know you said there is no need for thank yous between the two of us... but I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done for me, for everything we’ve done together.”

Lan Wangji wishes he could open his mouth to say something, or move his body to hold his husband in response to his words. But he cannot do more than look at him, eyes heavy, blurry with unshed tears.

Wei Wuxian knows – they’ve always been so synchronized – so he envelops Lan Wangji in his arms instead, and presses a kiss to the top of his head, a kiss that’s wet with salty tears.

“I love you so much, Lan Zhan. I love you and I love our life and our marriage and our kids and...” deep, shaky breath, “...and I want you to know that it’s okay. You’ve been so brave, you’ve beaten all of the odds... but you can rest now, my love. You can let go.”

Lan Wangji sighs, deeply, as if the air had been trapped inside of his lungs for far too long. Wei Wuxian presses his lips to his husband’s hair, and lets his tears fall freely as he runs his hands gently down Lan Wangji’s back, in comfort.

He feels the ridges of the man’s whip scars and his heart squeezes, as it always does when he remembers they exist, but he doesn’t dwell on them this time. Instead, he tries to imprint into his mind the warmth of his love’s body, the contours of him, the smell of him, everything.

Lan Wangji sighs again, just as deeply, and Wei Wuxian feels his eyelashes caress his collarbones as his eyes close. His muscles relax, slowly, then all at once, and his breaths come out in longer and longer intervals.

“I... love you...” Lan Wangji manages, somehow, putting all his might, all his heart and soul into uttering those three words that he’s always felt like he’d never get to say enough.

Wei Wuxian can’t hide a sob now, and leans down to leave one final kiss to his husband’s now colorless lips.

He feels the last of his breath as Lan Wangji moves against his lips ever so slightly before his body goes lax in Wei Wuxian’s arms, heavy and lifeless.

Wei Wuxian will have to let the servants know about it so all the funerary rituals could proceed. He will have to announce his family – no, their family – and their children, and... deal with everything else that came after.

But the sun has just risen, and it still bathes Lan Wangji’s features in a golden halo, and if Wei Wuxian tries hard enough, he can still feel the last embers of his husband’s warmth.

He will have to face the world and the reality of iy soon.

But now he holds the only thing he has left of his husband and sleeps.

Sleeps in his favorite place, for the very last time.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #writing attempts

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zileans-big-cl0ck · 8 months

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Hello! How u doing?

Can i ask for some DarkCosmic! Jhin x gn! reader headcanons! Im crying fr there is barely Jhin content. Im so happy i found your blog, its so damn great <33 ilysm!! Take care :D

✦–Dark Cosmic Jhin x reader short story.✦ SFW

✦Demos on their way to provide Jhin content for you, because Jhin enjoyers deserve everything that’s the best.

✧ prompt: ✧ just some headcanons that are placed in the Cosmic/Dark Star alternative universe.

✧ champions: ✧ Jhin, the Virtuoso (Dark Cosmic).

✧ reader: ✧ gender neutral (no Y/N used).

✧ author’s note: ✧ I’m afraid it turned out more like a short story than headcanons, but you must forgive me, the whole Cosmic universe is just so emphemeral and majestic, it called me by itself to write something like this, frfr. Like, I literally have Dark Star Kha’zix as my main theme, just because it’s the most aesthetic skin in the entire game. ANYWAYS, guys, hit me up with any ideas for Jhin content, because I’m gonna take care of it, I PROMISE. And don’t worry about your asks, I’m really writting them, I’m just a bit lazy and slow. As always, please ignore any mistakes.

masterlist

The Cosmic Court has lost Jhin’s light. He has fallen into the Dark Star’s trap, embraced the inky space. Now, bestowed with new starfire powers, he conscientiously begun to claim the Universe as a canvas for his artwork.

Jhin’s corruption quickly escalated, cosmic frame mirrored the cells of his mad and abstract concept of reality. It all belonged to him now. He could create anything or make nothing from the absolute; proclaim the universe with a new virtuoso as a cradle of twisted nebulas, incandescent galaxies, blurred across the black reality.

His hunger grew alongside claiming more and more stars, his four emphemeral hands - two filled with the energy of relinquished Cosmic celestial, the other two greeting the omnipotent might of the Dark Star - working, reaching, grabbing, painting, spreading.

These hands, he reached them once for a brand new Galaxy, fresh and pure, uncertain of the destination it should met. It could be turned into something truly gorgeous, breathtaking, beyond anything a simple mortal could ever comprehend. He wanted to ensnare this light, capture it at its most enduring state, and then squize it in his claws, paint the infinite darkness of expanse by its entrails.

But Jhin hesitated. It wasn’t just another impotent Galaxy drifting in space, awaiting its dull end, that would come in eons. It was another Celestial being, alive and in their youth, unaware of the ongoing war between the Dark Star and its corruptants and the Cosmic Court.

He approached, though there was a concerning aspect in their apperance. Like a whirling black hole that he employed to create artworks greater than himself, the artist behind.

Discovered when he found himself closer, he realized that he misses the feeling of gliding freely between plantes, with stardust sweeping through his ephemeral cape. Emptiness surrounded this poor Celestial, ubiquitous darkness and black background only in the sight. It was almost pitful, to look at something so lonely, with no items to craft and work and paint. But Jhin was an artist, which entailed that he felt and saw more, curiosity rised achingly in his cosmic body.

And he obtained them, because Jhin, empowered by the power of the Dark Star, always got what he desired, what his longing soul cried for. Firstly, it was a move made from pity; soon he became covetous, as he saw other corruptants becoming jealous of his new pet. The old, disdainful wraith, Mordekaiser, jeered, demanding his own cohort of enslaved Celestials. ”If Jhin can have one, why won’t we create a whole army of it? Why should we meet constelations with cataclysms, instead of claiming them as our own?” he asked, encouraged by the coward, Xerath. But Jhin decided to mercifully ignore his acquaintances, as the Herald, Thresh, didn’t stop him - his own twisted mind hided his soft spot for some kind of pets.

Jhin admired his new companion’s loyality. They decided to stood by his side, and he was positive they would be loyal even in the end of the Cosmic Court, end of the Dark Star and the whole Universe, just because he had freed them from the nothingless of their corner of space.

He uncovered that he had no desire of consuming nor devastating the Celestial into a new piece of art, just becausae of their purity and mellowness. When born in a dark emptiness, their being couldn’t soak with the benightedness that kept buisy the minds of others. He could bathe them in his own ideas and beliefs.

Neither Mordekaiser nor Xerath could order him to leave his new partner - they became his inspiration, his only appreciated audience. Their word was valued by Jhin more than the ardous asks from the other corruped cosmic titans.

They weren’t ordinal. They were found in a repugnant darkness, embraced by no stars, no nebulas, only ceaseless nothingless. It was almost calming, like the dim insides of the Dark Star, which were consummate, persistent, always hungry for more. Jhin admired it and wanted to show his pet the whole Universe, the beauty he could rip from constellations, melt them to his will.

He often became pensive, milling the thoughts that consumed his mind, pushing him into the greatness of his immense conciousness. They could listen to him for eons about the convoluted twists and strings behind his art. But he would never talk about his past and the Cosmic Court. And they were never malicious enough to force him to confess that.

The whole Galaxy was yours. Jhin was the reason the sanctimonious herold of the Dark Star, Thresh, has brought the rightful owner, the true heir of the devouring force of this Universe, Lux, so she could claim the throne. And by this way, the Virtuoso obtained favourability of his master - the one that gave him the powers. It let him spread the superficial chaos, proudly pace through space with his new companion, his beautiful galaxy, his devotion and destination.

Because Jhin was never reserved; if he wanted the whole Universe to belong to him, he would accomplish this task even without help of the Dark Star.

#✦demosthenes writes #league of legends #khada jhin #jhin #league of legends jhin #league of legends khada jhin #dark star #league of legends dark star #league of legends dark cosmic #jhin x reader #jhin x you #khada jhin x reader #khada jhin x you #dark cosmic jhin x reader #dark cosmic jhin x you #league of legends dark cosmic jhin #dark cosmic jhin

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sneverussape · 8 months

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For the asks :33 some fun ones and a lot of angsty ones. As always, feel free to skip if this is too many!

8, 9, 10, 13, 16, 33, 36, 41, 50

u know for whom :3

ah my friend you do me a great favor by asking for angst specifically XD i shall do my best to deliver!

8. Unpopular opinion about them

in the same way that people love to argue that lily was such a 'bad friend' to severus, severus also could have been equally toxic for lily. she was right to break off the friendship if she had felt unsafe. she was right to have set up boundaries to protect herself. she was not responsible for severus or for his happiness and ending their friendship could have been the healthiest way to move forward.

i'm also on team average!height snape (6ft is the tallest i will accept as his height but he's so willowy it doesn't really make him look formidable). compared to his da, he's pretty much a runt.

9. Scene that first made me love (or hate) the character

already answered here!

10. Best moment on screen (or in the book)

ooooh i have several favorites in the books, but one is this scene:

“That is just as well, Potter,” said Snape coldly, “because you are neither special nor important, and it is not up to you to find out what the Dark Lord is saying to his Death Eaters.” “No — that’s your job, isn’t it?” Harry shot at him. He had not meant to say it; it had burst out of him in temper. For a long moment they stared at each other, Harry convinced he had gone too far. But there was a curious, almost satisfied expression on Snape’s face when he answered. “Yes, Potter,” he said, his eyes glinting. “That is my job.”

i like it because it cements him as one who truly understands and accepts his responsibility that he is the adult in the situation and they're supposed to be doing the hard work, not the children. there's also a sliver of trust between him and harry in this scene that rarely shows itself: harry has just practically outed him as a spy, but he stays calm about it and merely acknowledges it. a begrudging sort of respect has started to form between the two shown by how, even though severus insults harry at the onset, he also allows harry to acknowledge the reality of their situation by letting him freely say what he did with none of the usual repercussions. the 'almost satisfied' expression was my undoing. you can say severus was almost proud.

it's rare that an adult actually treated the kids the same way snape did in this instance. they (dumbledore, the weasleys, mcgonagall, etc) always vacillated between treating them like babies by not allowing them to know of any sort of information, or cutting them loose to let them fend for themselves. you can tell snape didn't want them to fend for themselves. he wanted to help, and proved it by doing everything in his power to lead the kids to the next step of their mission.

13. Dumbest thing they’ve ever done

i know i wrote about the hippogriff scene based on canon events but as an hc...i'd say the dumbest thing he's ever done was provoking local cokeworth hooligans to a brawl when he was younger, on one of those days that he desperately needed to feel something after the falling out with lily. it's not that he didn't know how to fight back with his fists; he did, but he had also deliberately picked a gang of 4 (and wasn't that familiar) probably just to prove to himself that he could take them on. he was sorely mistaken in that regard. his parents had been apoplectic with rage and mam spent a good bit of that week's earnings on potions ingredients so she could brew him bruise balm and blood replenishers. taking him to st. mungo's would have raised ministry alarms for wizard endangerment and none of them wanted that. da kept trying to get him to tell him the boys' names but severus kept his silence. it didn't matter anyway.

16. Deepest darkest secret they won’t even admit to themselves

hmm. maybe that there were times when he did enjoy the surge of power that came with being a death eater. he didn't like acknowledging it because he was deeply uncomfortable with the notion that he truly was the sadist many of the children saw him as.

also that petunia was a pretty bird, especially when she was a teenager while he and lily had still been children, but that's something he had buried deep in his unconscious mind, way before it was even a coherent thought.

33. Something guaranteed to make them cry

old muggles who were homeless or begging on the streets.

mr. khatry's red curry.

his students' atrocious spelling and writing. (dumbledore really should overhaul the curriculum to include english reading and writing classes for these miscreants; he spends far too much time teaching the little fools basic syntax and grammar when he could be focusing on the actual subject matter).

36. Their favorite season

summer! not only are there no classes but he deeply enjoys how long and languid days the days are. it's also the time of the year when he spends the most time out in the sun since he has to help with the upkeep of his neighbors' homes. this always results in him getting a bit of a tan that's made all the more evident when he troops back to the castle. minerva teases him mercilessly for it and he always lies and says he got it vacationing in pompeii or alexandria or some other exotic location. minerva doesn't believe a word of it but enjoys their little game and always asks him for stories about his travels which he embellishes with ridiculous details.

there's also a single week in the summer when time seems to stand still and the air seems breathless and the ghosts of his childhood seem to hold out their phantom hands out to him. he disappears for hours on end on those days, and no one dares to ask where he's going or where he's been. he always comes back at the end of the day, rumpled and slightly disheveled, with his head hung low. the neighbors know well enough to keep their distance on those days, and collectively breathe a sigh of relief when the winds turn once the week is done and severus is back to his acerbic self.

41. If they could have lunch with anyone in the world (living or dead, from any fictional universe or the real world), who would it be?

this is a good question! knowing severus and his incessant thirst for knowledge, he'd probably choose someone he could learn from, like merlin. lunch would be spent not eating but for learning and experimentation. other viable choices would probably be alan turing, charles darwin, and salazar slytherin.

50. A memory they’ve blocked out

i've written a piece about this before that i never published. instead of one, i'll give you four memories straight from that piece :)) they revolve around the breaking down of his and tobias' relationship.

cw corporal punishment by parent (switching)

excerpt from In the House of My Father (unpublished):

—

“Da!”

The first memory: he was six years old and clattering down the stairs just as his father opened the door. Tobias was large and took up the entire frame of the entryway. He easily picked Severus up as he came running, then swiftly moved him onto his shoulders, securing the boy’s balance by placing his hands behind his back for support.

“’Ere’s me lad!” his father shouted, his voice booming in the tiny hallway. “The tallest boy in the world!”

“Aye!”

“Wipe your shoes before you come in, Tobias, I won’t have you messing up the floor I just cleaned, you hear me now?” Eileen’s voice could be heard from the kitchen, strained with tight annoyance. “And wash your hands before you come for supper. Bring your son with you.”

Your son. Severus felt a burst of pride at that label. Of course he was his father’s son. Who else would he be?

“Ye hungry, lad?” His father asked, peering up at him.

“Starvin’, Da.”

“Ye’r sayin’ grace tonight, ye hear? Can yer remember them all? Them’s big words.”

“’Course!” He had spent most of the day committing to memory the short prayer Da usually had them utter before meals, no matter how meager. Tobias agreeing for him to say them that night was the proudest moment of his young life. He was not going to let his Da down.

“Tha’s a good lad.”

The second memory: him at eight in front of the mirror as Eileen brushed out the tangles in his hair. He was wearing his best shirt, the white one with the crisp collar, and trousers his Mam had freshly ironed, the one that had nearly no patches. These were his Sunday clothes, and he secretly looked forward to wearing them after a whole week of wearing the ill-fitting outfits he had to endure on other days.

Eileen stood behind him, gentle in her ministrations as her long smooth fingers ran down his scalp.

“Won’t you come, Mam?” Severus asked, although this was an argument they always had and the answer was always the same. It never deterred his determination, however.

“No, Severus,” came the predictable reply.

“But why?” He couldn’t help his statement from curling into a whine. “Yer already missed my Holy Communion!”

“We’ve discussed this before. I never perceived you a dense child.” Eileen raised an eyebrow at him in challenge and Severus huffed. “Do stop.”

“It’s just Mass, Mam. Fr. Delaney says—”

“This is something between you and your father and I cannot join, Severus.”

“But you’re married!”

“It is allowed for us to be so. That’s hardly the point.”

Severus crossed his arms. “All yer havta do is sit there and copy what Da and I are doin’…”

“Severus.” Eileen sighed. “It’s not the same. I do not belong to that group. I do not share the same beliefs.”

“Oh? Is it the same as Da not bein’ able to do mag—ow!”

To his surprise, Eileen’s grip on him tightened and he was wrenched sideways to look up at his mother. Her eyes, which were usually dark and emotionless, were suddenly clouded. The breath she released was a tremble. Severus stared back at her, confused.

“Mam? Are you…”

“Severus, you must never mention magic in front of your father.” Her voice had dropped to a harsh whisper, and her nails were digging into his shoulder. He winced. “We’ve discussed this before! Do you want all your magic to be taken away? Do you want us to be taken away?”

Severus shook his head, suddenly unnerved by the change in his mother. “N-no. Never, Mam,” he whispered.

“Good.” Her grip on him loosened, but only by a fraction. “I do not want to discuss this again, do you understand? Or I will leave you here alone, Severus. I swear it. No more of this talk.”

“Y-yes, Mam.”

The third memory: The first time he had done accidental magic that he could remember was as he watched his father make his way down the icy steps of their home on the way to work. He didn’t know how old he was. But Tobias had slipped, his boots suddenly unable to keep his balance, and all of a sudden, he was tumbling headfirst onto the street, seconds away from cracking his head on the frozen pavement—

Severus raised his hands instinctively and his father’s form hung suspended in the air as though he was held back by an invisible force. Moments later, he crashed down, face first, but this time he had had enough time to shield himself with his arms. The commotion was loud enough to alert his mother, who rushed out of the kitchen and into the cold to see what had happened.

“Tobias!”

“It was angels, ‘Leen! I swear to Christ, the hand of God jus’ saved me!”

The fourth memory: Spare the rod, spoil the child.

“Bend over.”

Severus was ten. There was a scorch mark near the wall where the fire in the grate had flared up with his accidental magic. His father had not seen, but he had heard the argument that had taken place between Severus and Eileen. He had heard his son’s raised voice and had immediately appeared, switch in hand.

“Bend over now, Severus!” Severus bent over. Five strikes against his bare bottom made him howl in pain, and he had not hated his father any more than that moment.

and that's it! i never finished this piece hehehe. but i thought it was appropriate because he starts remembering these as he lay dying in the shrieking shack. :3

#ask game #snape #hp #surprise ficlet #my fic

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just-dreaming-marvel · 2 years

Text

The Bond Between Us ~ 51

THE BOND BETWEEN US MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,940ish

Summary: You return to Tatooine after 23 years away.

Notes: This is technically the end of the Obi-Wan Kenobi series chapters of this story. There are going to be a few chapters of marital life between Obi-Wan and little star before we get into the A New Hope chapters. Also, I’m looking for someone to edit photos of Ewan McGregor/Obi-Wan because I am not going to use Alec Guinness’ version of Obi-Wan (no offense). Let me know if you can/are interested or if you just want to do it and surprise me, that would be great as well!

You took a deep breath as you stood in the doorway of the ship. Your eyes scanned the landscape before you. Tatooine. You hadn’t been back since Qui-Gon took you from this place and you had honestly never thought you would return. After gathering the belongings needed from the ship, Obi-Wan came up behind you. He could feel your apprehension. He sighed as he came up from behind and wrapped his arms around you. You leaned back into him as his chin came to rest on your shoulder.

“Are you alright?” He whispered.

“Yeah…” you breathed out, still staring out at Tatooine. “I’m fine.”

“I don’t believe you, darling.” His hands moved to your waist and guided you to turn around. You held your head down. “Look at me, little star.” You sighed, giving into his request slowly. “It’s okay to struggle being back here. I know the memories are probably hard.”

“It’s… a lot… I’ll admit… Memories of Ani and I growing up… but then, there’s also the regret of not being there for my mother when she died. Anakin was there but I was…”

“Not here,” Obi-Wan nodded in understanding. “If you want, we can stop by where her headstone is. I know it it’s on the Lars’ farm.”

“Yeah, I would like that.” Your hands snaked up and around Obi-Wan’s neck, fingers scratching at the back of it. You looked back down.

“What else is it, little star?”

“I just… I’m scared that this is all a dream. That I’m going to wake up and I’ll be back in that cell, waiting to die.”

Obi-Wan pulled you impossibly closer. “This is not a dream, my dear. This is reality.” He leaned in and kissed your lips sweetly. “And if it’s not, in the slightest chance that this is a dream, when you wake up just know that I will come for you. I will always come for you.” He pulled you in for another kiss. “Are you ready?”

“As long as you’re with me.”

“Always, little star.”

~~~

You were seated behind Obi-Wan on his Eopie, arms wrapped around him. Obi-Wan guided the Eopie to the cave he had called home for the last ten years. You slowly walked inside, brushing your fingers along the rock. Obi-Wan followed you, watching you as you studied the area. It was sad and dusty. You could feel the weight of the emotions that Obi-Wan had felt here in the Force, none of which were happy emotions.

“I promise to build you an actual house,” Obi-Wan stated from behind you.

He knew that this dirty cave was not worthy of your presence. He longed to give you more. A house with walls, decorated the way you wanted. A bedroom you shared, where it’s clear who sleeps on which side. But truly, most of all, Obi-Wan just wanted to give you a place where the two of you could freely love each other.

“I just feel bad that you had to live here, struggling by yourself for so long,” you told him, still looking around the area as you broke him out of his trance. “It had to have been so hard.”

Obi-Wan sighed, knowing that there was no point in lying to you about how hard it was for him here. You would be able to see right through it. As he watched you walk around the small area, he could sense a pull in the Force for him and you to leave this place. That a new chapter was beginning and that it wouldn’t happen in this cave.

“I can feel it too,” you said, sensing what he was. You turned to face him. “It’s time for you to pack up and start over.”

He shook his head and went over to you, taking your hands in his large, rough ones. “It’s time for us to start over,” he corrected.

“Right. Us.” You smiled at him before pecking his lips. “Come on, we should get you all packed up.”

“Mhm,” Obi-Wan hummed, kissing you again. “Or… what’s the rush? I still haven’t been able to show my new wife how much I love her.” He began kissing down your face, to your neck. “How much I missed her…”

Your head moved to give Obi-Wan more access to your neck with you closed your eyes, sighing in contentment and desire. “I think that your new wife would appreciate that very much.”

~~~

You and Obi-Wan didn’t bother to try and pack up his cave until the morning, having too much lost time to make up for. Together, you were easily able to pack up what little he had. As you finished up packing a small backpack, you noticed Obi-Wan pick up a bag with a toy ship sticking out of it. You watched as he debated with it before placing it in his backpack. He grabbed the few items he had in bags and looked at you.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

“Are you?” You responded.

Obi-Wan took a deep inhale as he nodded. Holding out his hand to you, you walked over and took it. The two of you walked out together and loaded the belongings onto the Eopie. Obi-Wan helped you onto the animal before getting on it himself. He led the Eopie over to the Lars’ farm. Your eyes were drawn to the young boy kneeling on the ground over by a few barrels. He was cleaning a contraption. You almost couldn’t breathe. He looked too similar to young Anakin. Obi-Wan felt your heartache and gave one of your hands resting on him a squeeze as he commanded the Eopie to lay. He got off first before helping you off. Together you walked over to Owen, your step-brother.

“What are you, uh, doin’ here?” Owen asked, eyeing you. “I thought you were gonna keep your distance.”

“And I will,” Obi-Wan replied. “You know, you were right.” His eyes, like yours already had, found Luke. “He just needs to be a boy. The future will take care of itself. The only protection he needs now, Owen, is you and Beru. Take good care of him.”

“I will.” Owen studied you but before he could say anything Beru came up to the group.

“You’re her, aren’t you?” Her question was directed at you. “You’re Y/N.”

“I am,” you replied with a nod.

“I’m Beru and this is Owen. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You as well.” Your eyes shifted to Owen. “I would like to see my mother’s grave. Please. I wish to say goodbye.”

Owen motioned his head over in Luke’s direction. Just passed Luke, you could see a line of headstones. “I’ll take you to her,” he told you.

You gave Obi-Wan’s hand a squeeze before letting it go and following after Owen. You could see Luke’s gaze follow you as you followed his uncle passed him. Owen and you stopped side-by-side in front of the tombstone that read your mother’s name.

“She spoke of you and Anakin often,” Owen admitted quietly. “She missed you both.”

“We missed her,” you responded softly. “May I… May I have a moment alone?”

Owen nodded, turning back to head over to the others. You slowly got down on your knees. Your hand shook slightly as you reached out and brushed your fingers against where her name was carved. Memories flashing in your mind, caused your eyes to close.

You looked at your mother as she knelt down in front of you, holding your face in her hands.

“Y/N,” she smiled at you, “I am so proud of you.”

“I will miss you, mom,” your voice cracked.

“I will miss you too. But you are so strong and wise, I know that you can do this. I do need you to promise me something, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Promise me that you will watch out for your brother. Your brother is kind and strong-headed. You know that he can let his emotions take control over him. Watch out for him. Do what you need to do to take care of him and yourself. Promise me.”

“I promise, mom.”

“Good girl.” She pulled you in for a hug as Anakin came out to say goodbye to one of his friends. She pressed a kiss to your head. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, mom.”

“Go.” Shmi encouraged you, letting you go to where Qui-Gon was standing a little ways away.

“I am so sorry, mom,” you cried quietly. “I failed to watch out for Anakin like I promised… I failed you.”

Your head bowed as you let the cries continue. Obi-Wan tried to stay put to allow you this time alone but he couldn’t handle watching you cry. He came over and pulled you up, guiding you into his embrace.

“I failed her,” you cried into his chest. “I failed him.”

“You did not fail anyone, little star,” Obi-Wan said with a stern kindness. “Especially not either one of them.”

After a few more moments of crying, you were ready to leave. Obi-Wan kept you close as the two of you walked back toward the Eopie. He nodded as you both passed Beru and Owen. You had reached the Eopie when Owen called out.

“Ben?” You and Obi-Wan turned around. “You want to meet him?”

Obi-Wan gave a thankful smile before he grabbed the toy he had procured for Luke. “Do you want to come with me?” He asked.

“I think I will watch,” you responded. “I don’t feel it is my time to meet the boy.”

Obi-Wan nodded, leaning in to kiss your cheek briefly. With a deep breath, he walked over to where Luke was working. Luke stood up to greet him.

“Hello there,” Obi-Wan greeted, stopping in front of the boy.

You smirked at the saying, remembering when you first meet Obi-Wan and he had said the same thing. Obi-Wan barely said anything to Luke, making an excuse as to why the two of you stopped by and gave him the toy ship. Luke was very thankful and quickly ran inside to go play with it. Feeling completed almost, Obi-Wan turned and headed back to you.

“Thank you,” you said to Owen and Beru before letting Obi-Wan help you onto the Eopie. He joined you and the two of you were on your way. “Where are we headed?”

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan replied. “I am just following the Force.”

You leaned forward and kissed Obi-Wan’s cheek. “Let’s go then.”

Obi-Wan smirked as he continued the Eopie across the desert of Tatooine and toward the entrance of a large canyon. As you neared the entrance, you swear you could see a blue figure forming nearby.

“Am I…” you couldn’t even finish the question.

“I see it too, darling,” Obi-Wan confirmed. As you drew closer, you both recognized it to be a familiar face. Obi-Wan stopped the Eopie. “Master Qui-Gon.”

“Well, took you both long enough,” Qui-Gon reprimanded as he faced you both with his hands on his hips.

“Beginning to think you’d never come.”

“I was always here, Obi-Wan. You just were not ready to see. Come on. We’ve got a ways to go.”

Qui-Gon turned and slowly disappeared as he walked toward the canyon. You and Obi-Wan smiled, finally feeling a peace neither of you had felt in ages.

next chapter >

TAGLIST IS CLOSED - Taglist Information

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borhaprequiem · 2 months

Text

Beyond the Seams

Fandom: AI: The Somnium Files Rating: 13+ for swearing and some intense themes Major Characters: Kaname Date, Hitomi Sagan, original trans characters Pairings: Kaname Date/Hitomi Sagan Words: 2,448

Heads up: This fic features identity death (complete removal of memories) and anime-style characters turning into realistic, ordinary humans. As well as cis-to-trans, though I try to handle it tactfully and avoid calling too much attention to the specific changes it would imply. (Also T4T Datomi is canon to me in at least one timeline lbr.) If you are sensitive at all to any of these tropes please don't read this.

Summary: Thanks to the leader of NAIX, Date and Hitomi are emancipated from the simulation. What happens to them in the realm beyond is something they could never have imagined.

Author's note: you may notice that some details are inconsistent with the actual games. this is because i wanted to avoid spoilers since i imagine most of my audience has not played this series (you should though it's fucking amazing). also i wrote this in a spiteful "i saw someone use this idea and thought i could do it better" haze so i didn't really care lol

Please read my bio before following.

“Hitomi Sagan has been captured by us. Come to the basement of the Lemniscate building if you ever want to see your beloved again.”--NAIX

Those were the words on the slip of paper Kaname Date held in his hand. He clenched his other fist, seething. There was no way they would get away with this.

He and the other members of ABIS had recently been investigating the Half Body Killings, and he had suspicions that the cult-like organization NAIX was behind them. Unfortunately, they had caught onto him first, and now were demanding ransom.

“Let's go, Aiba. There's no time to waste,” he said to his partner. If she wasn't currently embedded in his eye socket, she would've nodded.

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

As soon as Date had arrived at the very bottom floor of Lemniscate, he saw his partner Hitomi gagged and tied to a chair, as well as a large, complex, strange machine in the middle of the room. It had two giant, mechanical arms with pointy ends meeting in the center. But the latter was of no concern to him compared to the former.

“Hitomi!” Date cried. “I’m going to get you out of there, don't worry—”

Hitomi’s mouth had been completely taped over, so she could only nod in response. And yet, her face brightened up instantly upon seeing her boo come to rescue her.

But when Date rushed over to her and began trying to untie her—another door to the room opened, and Tokiko Shigure, the leader of NAIX, walked in.

“Oh, Date, finally you decide to show up.” Her tone was monotonous and her face completely devoid of emotion—which made it that much more unsettling. “I have located a tear in the seams of the simulation we’re in, and I’ve decided that you'll have the honor of being the first to be emancipated.”

“...What the HELL does that mean?!” Date screamed. He took out his gun and pointed it straight at Tokiko. “Let Hitomi go, and no one gets hurt. This is an ORDER from the MPD.”

The corners of Tokiko’s mouth turned up ever so slightly, making as much of a smirk as possible on the face of one who had given up all emotions.

“Don't worry, I’ll let her go,” she replied. “From the simulation, that is. And you will follow her.”

Date’s hand didn't budge. He kept his finger on the trigger, ready to shoot if she made a wrong move.

“But you have a choice. You may choose to join my cause, and I will send both of you to a perfect reality where you can live peacefully and freely. Or continue to resist, and your selves will be erased altogether.

Date grunted.

“Like HELL I’d join you, bitch!”

He pulled the trigger—

—

—and as soon as he did, the large machine in the room whirred to life. Faster than the blink of an eye, the two arms seemed to rip apart the fabric of reality itself, creating a dark, ethereal rift between them.

Its gravity pulled the bullet away from its target—and into the rift, where it vanished.

Date could feel the gun in his hand rattle as it, too, was pulled towards the tear in reality. His feet slid closer and closer to the rift as he tried his best to keep them on the ground, slowly marching his way towards Hitomi. The chair she was tied onto was sliding closer to the rift as well, as the ropes binding her snapped off one by one and flew into the rift just as the bullet did.

Date’s hair blew around, slightly obscuring his path to his destination. It was as if a large, powerful wind had engulfed the entire room.

And before he knew it, he was only a few steps away from Hitomi—but her bindings had completely come undone, and she only had her chair to grip onto to stay on earth.

“Almost—”

As he reached for her—her chair suddenly slipped off its legs, about to tumble right into the gaping hole right next to her. Hitomi screamed as much as she could with her mouth still taped over, instinctively letting go of the chair—and just in time, Date caught her.

“Don’t worry, I got ya—”

But not for long, unfortunately. The suction of the rift was too powerful, and after a few seconds, the force grew too much for Date—his grip slipped, and Hitomi disappeared into the rift…and Date followed not even a second after.

The last thing Date saw before departing this world was, out of the corner of his eye, Tokiko smirking wider than he’d ever seen before.

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

It was the strangest feeling. Date felt as if he was falling endlessly within an abstractly colored nothingness as unusual sensations overcame his body. He watched his hair blow all around him, the thick, smooth locks beginning to…split apart, finer and finer. Every morning when he did his hair, he’d always noticed that the strands melded together in bunches with several of the nearby ones. That’s how it was supposed to be. That’s how it was for everyone. But now, it was as if he could see each individual hair of his, completely separate from all the other ones. It was bewildering. What the hell was happening, this wasn’t right, this was making his head hurt—

His hair wasn’t the only thing changing; his clothes also began to become less smooth, patterns of very thin fibers woven together starting to appear and spreading throughout his outfit. Date caught a glimpse of his glove, and his skin began to crawl as he saw the intricate, detailed woven pattern wash over it. This was far too much detail than he was used to. It was unsettling. It was maddening.

But he couldn’t dwell on that. He had to find Hitomi.

“HITOMI!” he cried out. No response. He tried his best to swim through the void to look for her, but he didn’t really know if he was actually moving.

But a far more unnerving sight greeted him instead. Suddenly, he could see his face, extremely clear and close-up, all around him. It was as if he was in a house of mirrors, but if the mirrors were all zoomed in.

He watched as a similar thing happened to his face as it did to his clothes. Tiny little wrinkles and hairs appeared all over his skin as it took on a more leathery texture. And he could see it in extremely high detail. He screamed. He continued to scream as he was forced to watch his nose widen slightly, the edges and nostrils becoming more defined. A new pinkness tinged his lips as tiny creases appeared throughout them. And as his eyelashes and eyebrows split into individual hairs just like the blond locks flowing from his head, he felt a pounding headache as his eyes shrank a bit.

Hopefully Aiba being there wouldn’t hurt him or her in any way—wait. Was she still there?

“Aiba! AIBA!” Date yelled once again, only to again be met with silence.

He felt a slightly uncomfortable feeling in his eyes—plastic? Was there plastic in there? Was he wearing…contacts? He suddenly noticed that his left eye was working as normal again—it didn’t feel like Aiba was there at all.

“AIBA!!! Shit! Where did you go?!”

Tears welled up in both of his eyes as he clutched his head. He didn’t know what was happening to him, or where two of the people he cared about most were, and on top of that his head was starting to feel foggy. What could he do? Nothing. Nothing at all. He squeezed his eyes shut, neither wanting to look at his magnified reflection anymore nor accept his current reality, and hoped that it all would be over soon.

And to add insult to injury, he felt an almost painful tingling pass through his muscles and bones. His whole body felt as if it was rearranging itself—he was being compressed slightly shorter, and the proportions of his body shifted around. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but everything just felt wrong. His clothes didn’t fit the way they used to—too tight in some places and too loose in others. He was beginning to feel like a stranger in his own body. What was that bitch Tokiko doing to him?!

Suddenly—foreign thoughts suddenly hit his mind. Memories. Ideas. Revelations about the world he came from. And then one of them practically slapped him in the face.

It was all just a game.

Now, Date wasn’t big into video games. He just couldn’t get into ShovelForge or any of Iris’s other favorites no matter how many times she begged him to play with her. But at the very least, he knew they were just lines of code controlling the images on the computer screen, or however Pewter explained it to him. Mere fabrications. Fiction.

…Was he just lines of code this whole time? Were none of his free will or sense of self really his, and he was just being controlled by some jumbles of 1s and 0s?

God damn it. God damn it to hell.

He yelled, digging his hands into the sides of his head—and then his hair came off.

Shaking, he stared at the lump of hair he now held in his hands. It was a wig. If he could see the top of his head, he’d notice that underneath it was a short black buzzcut.

He clenched his teeth, which had, too, split from two solid strips of white into sections that looked like rounded squares and cubes. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. His reality was breaking apart around him. Was this the “emancipation” that NAIX so fervently strived for? What did they even see in this horrifying madness?

Date’s thoughts were interrupted by a brown flash out of the corner of his eye.

“Hitomi!”

God, even his voice felt wrong. He didn’t know if it was something that actually changed within him or just the space they were in bending the sound, but it was much higher-pitched than usual. But he didn’t care at this point. He had finally found his lover.

He could tell that Hitomi had gone through the same “detail-ification” process that had happened to him, though she appeared to be barely conscious. Her body was limp and her eyes half-closed. Date once again tried to swim over to her…and he managed to grab onto her good arm. Her sweater looked and felt a lot rougher than usual, but that barely mattered at this point.

…Did the hand on her other arm just twitch? He chose to ignore that.

“Hitomi, Hitomi, I’m so glad you’re alright.” Date leaned closer to her ear. “We’re going to get out of here. Back to safety. Back *home,* even. I promise.”

…Where was home, again?

As Date tried to picture his apartment…or Hitomi’s house…it just didn’t feel as familiar to him. It felt like he was trying to picture a house belonging to a stranger that he saw once. Or a character in a game, even…

What about the people he knew? Every face his mind conjured up felt flat, fake. Fictional.

He couldn’t let himself go like this. He had to remember. He—

He clutched his head again with his other hand. Who even was he, really? He realized he couldn’t even recall his name. Or the name of the other person in front of him. All he knew was that she was his dear partner, and he loved her and needed to protect her. So he hugged her and held on tight.

The two began to fall slower and slower…as the mess of colors surrounding them began to untangle themselves into something more resemblant of a defined reality.

And as they settled down to earth again, the man slowly began to drift back to reality. His identity began to flow back to him. He was a salaryman living just outside Tokyo. During his time off, he loved playing all sorts of games and visual novels. And his name…

His name…

Kouta Tanaka snapped back to the present. He was standing in the entrance hall of his apartment, deep in an embrace with his girlfriend, Hanako Suzuki.

“...You alright?” Hanako muttered. “That was a kind of a long hug…felt like you didn’t want to let go. Not that I’m complaining~” She giggled.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just…kind of zoned out a bit.” He broke off the hug and scratched his head—er, wig—sheepishly.

The two had just gotten back home after a long, exciting day at Comiket. It was the first time they had tried out a couple’s cosplay, and they had lots of fun browsing all the comics and merch at the vendors’ booths, as well as meeting other cosplayers with stunning outfits and props. They even managed to meet a couple other fans of AI: The Somnium Files, who had complimented their Date and Hitomi costumes greatly.

But the best part was—it was a time when they felt they could truly be themselves. Social pressure pushed them to stay closeted for most of the year, and HRT was nigh impossible for them to get in Japan. At these sorts of conventions, however, all judgements were suspended, and they were free to dress in the outfits that gave them the most gender euphoria, as the characters they most looked up to or related to.

“I know I said this already, but—you make a perfect Hitomi, dear.” Kouta stroked his girlfriend’s wig, feeling the soft, straight brown strands in his hands. She blushed at the compliment.

“And you make a perfect Date!” she exclaimed back. Kouta simply smiled.

Even as they exchanged more romantic banter, Kouta still had a stray thought on his mind. Something that scratched at the back of his brain. It was kind of dumb. But he couldn’t help but pop the question.

“Y’know, with how much we identify with Date and Hitomi…Do you think we might have actually been them in a past life?”

Hanako chuckled. “That sounds kind of silly. …But honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised. If that really were the case…I know we’d find each other again in any universe.”

“You really think so?”

“Absolutely.”

Now it was Kouta’s turn to blush madly. Being able to resonate on silly topics like this…he really couldn’t ask for a better partner.

“Then I’m glad I found you. I…I love you, Hitomi.”

Hanako giggled again upon being called that. “And I love you…Kaname.”

And so they embraced each other again, locking lips in a deep, passionate kiss. No matter what might have happened in the past, their current life was perfect—as they had each other.

#📝 writing #🟡 rating: 13+#⚠️ cw: identity death #📚 media: ai the somnium files #🦋 human to human #🦋 reality shift #🦋 male to male #🦋 female to female (offscreen)#transformation

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rotkinshock · 1 year

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Communication System and aftermath from it in One Piece

Ok I decided I will make it for One Piece Fanfic writers who, as me myself, had to be perfectly accurate to the realities of the world in one piece.

People rely on spoken and written way of communication, as so it comes to calls and letters, but, despite of how easy you might think it is, in one piece it's quite hard. Especially for pirates.

There are two common mistakes while writing something what requires communication on what myself got caught when I later checked if it's even able to do: Letters and range of Den Den Mushi calls and broadcasts.

News Coo

If you want to know anything about your friend or family member who is a pirate there are only prays that they have a wanted post or were noticed by a journalists and it is not due to a death of theirs. Otherwise? There is nothing else what they would send else.

They don't have a post system through which people can send letters.

Letters

Due to that if you have a letter to send outside the island or archipelag you have two options:

Marines If you're a marine or civilian you can without any worry in your heart send letters through giving it to marine to bring it to the recipient if their ship is heading there/it is an important document or letter. It is mainly an inside Marine thing to send important correspondence, civilians here mostly must be a member of family/a friend of a marine member to get a privilege to do so. Or just have a cool marines on your island to do so.

Messenger Personally or not. If you want to get your message safely to the recipient you need someone to bring it there, but it's always risky if place is under protection of marines. Best way is to give it to someone who is a navigator in a move if the person you send a letter is not on their next stop.

By far we got only Ace cover story and Rockstar delivering Shanks' letter to Whiteboard as examples of any letter deliveries outside marine, where those are hard to register/I remember those but forgot when it happened.

Den Den Mushi

For this I send you to the wiki site of them where each brand is described, but here I will short tell/explain each with where and when it can be used and be handy:

Black Den Den They are used mainly by Marines and Revolutionary Army to spy on normal calls when it is not attached to the White Den Den. Marines controls by that calls of pirates as well, knowing where to expect what pirates and so. More dangerous pirate or persona, more dangerous it can be spied from the nearest marine's base.

White Den Den It is an attachable snail what hides the call signal so Black Den Den can't hear it. Cool, but those are really hard to find. Only known owner of one is Dragon so good luck.

Baby Den Den Those are those small what fit in a standard human hand easily. They have a basic island range, and so their call is as well harder to catch on since the signal is really short. They are mostly used as microphones or walkie talkies. Very useful but still, better be careful if there is still a marine base on the island etc.

Normal Den Den Depending on the size and dial in it range might be different, but it is circa in an ocean range, better dig into it and range might be longer. On the East Blue, mainly bigger islands or rich towns, if there was no Marine base, had anyone with it, rather richer people or people with their own locals.

Conclusions

If the pirates are talking about curtain meet up or thing, marines start to get ready to do a move so it's always good to have on mind to give more realism to the world to have that on mind.

More secret or spy-like nature of the crew/organization, if they are not under protection of WG or Marines rather should be prepared for any outside calls.

Civilians and Pirates are rather forgotten to freely talk if the island is not under protection of that pirate crew. If neighbors or just people from the island will notice contact between two, or marines who have base near will notice that the crew is visiting curtain island way too many times, pirates might get caught at some point. Disclaimer here: Shanks was using that Garp is on the duety and no Marine appears on his home village through that time. Keeping an eye on details like those are quite important if you want to menage safety for your crew.

Calls between Marines, especially from higher-ups, are protected by the protocols and codes.

When Marine ship gets near the base, the base calls the ship from automate, catching the contact with it without even need to roll the number, to get the number of the ship, fleet, and entry code to get to the dock. Similar is when the gates of justice are needed to be opened to leave, protection there is on a higher level because of the places it protects.

To send someone to give specific person a letter you must send them with at least two things: - vivre card of recipients - vivre card of sender or - eternal pose to the island of recipients where they live/wait - eternal pose to the island of sender where they live/wait Despite if the messenger is a navigator or not, if the lands are not known by them, coming back or even finding their way back to their group will be much harder without it.

Fun idea is that you can create a crew specialized in being messengers! Be the one who do the god's work.

Everything said about letters is the same with packages! Have your own postman!

Revolutionary Army, due to Karasu's abilities, they can send between each other and their allies messenger crows.

Same goes to Nefertari family and Alabastra royalty and nobility have their messenger ducks.

Fishmen and mermen can communicate with fish, and as so they might use them sa messenger fish.

My idea what I use with snipers or characters like Katakuri or Garp: If you can shot or throw really strongly and precisely, you can literally send by that way a message! Put it into the cannonball and woosh! In a bullet? Easy! Metal envelope? Even smarter and better! I personally use for snipers with strong grip metal envelopes or pop up messages in long bullets what pop up by the impact. For Usopp messages hald in a big bullet to bloom together with the bullet by the impact! Ofc u can use all those ideas freely!

Btw the extra graphic here are from the blog linked in the first one!

Let me know if you would want me to make more posts like this one, I like to make big researches on the fields like those etc

#one piece #one piece writing #one piece prompt #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #one piece marine #one piece marines #one piece revolutionary army #one piece pirates #one piece news coo #one piece world #one piece worldbuilding #one piece oc #monkey d garp #charlotte katakuri #god usopp

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isfjmel-phleg · 8 months

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Had a long-winded monologue conversation today about Elystan's schoolmates Jestidge Kesson and Morstyn Hollock, and I was reminded of these very short pieces I wrote from each's POV in response to some assigned drabble prompts.

They might not turn out to be actually canon, but I was just transitioning from Wodehouse scholarship into creative writing when I wrote them, so that influence bled over, and the results were fun to write, if not perfect. So I'm bringing them back for the heck of it.

We’re going to freeze to death

[Set during Book 3, while Josiah and Elystan are at school]

The glory of winning the rugball match had simmered down. The cheers and congratulations of his teammates and their admirers were no more than an echo of memory. Once Kesson had returned to his dormitory, one reality of his exploits remained: mud. Caking his clothes, smeared on his face and hair. On the field, this was a mark of dedication; in the solitude of the dormitory, it was a nuisance. He would take a long bath and emerge once more presentable to the school.

Hardly had he divested himself of the muddied rugball clothes before someone knocked on his door. He snatched up and donned a dressing gown, seizing a moment long enough to remold his face into the appropriate polite but authoritative helpfulness.

The expression nearly dropped off entirely when he opened the door. It was Callon.

Again.

The last person who needed to witness his prefect muddied and in a dressing gown. Kesson could have sworn the child was inspecting him with disapproval.

“This time you must do something about Liddick!” said Callon.

Kesson sighed. “What’s he done now?”

“He burns things in the fireplace, a strange sort of paper, and there’s smoke everywhere, and it smells beastly, and he just sits there like an idiot and breathes it in as if he’s at the seaside, and he won’t stop, he’s done it all week, and when I try to open the window, he just shuts it again, and he won’t let me sleep with the window open even though it’s stiflingly stuffy in there, and if I do manage to keep it open, he says we’re going to freeze to death and says he’s caught cold from it, and then I have to hear him sneezing and sniffling all night, and that’s on top of the coughing–”

Callon was clearly prepared to continue this speech indefinitely, but Kesson held up a hand to stop him.

“That sounds like a…complicated situation,” he said.

“He’s doing it on purpose.”

“Very likely. It sounds like something the two of you need to work out between yourselves.” Kesson tried to close the door, but Callon stopped it with his foot.

“I can’t be expected to live with someone like that. This is not what I have been accustomed to or what I was led to expect at a respectable establishment. You need to either send him into one of the dormitories or move me into a new private room.”

“I believe I’ve already explained to you that I cannot do that. Now if you would excuse me, I have a prior engagement–”

“What sort of prefect are you? I thought it was your place to keep order around here, but if you can’t even control someone like Liddick, perhaps I should ask Böllingfurt to deal with him instead.”

A successful prefect did not slam doors shut over pupils’ feet, so Kesson replied, very slowly, “This isn’t Böllingfurt’s corridor.”

“Fine, then I’ll speak to the Head if no one else will listen to me.”

“Do,” said Kesson. “Perhaps he can recommend you a good hotel.”

“Do you really think so? That would be much better. I’ll go and speak him at once.”

The second Callon had turned away, Kesson banged the door shut and leaned against it, feeling as winded as if he had just come from practice. He would probably live to regret sending a Remove boy straight to the Head–for Callon, if asked, would surely announce freely that Kesson had told him to do it–but the child wouldn’t get far enough to do much damage. One did not simply walk into the Head’s office.

At any rate, Kesson had bought himself about half an hour before anyone was liable to need him again, and he meant to enjoy every second of it.

I didn’t cheat!

[Set during Book 3]

Morstyn Hollock had dreaded preparation so long and so strongly that even with the possibility of good news he held in his hand, he shuffled furtively up to the end of the long table at which his tutor sat, scribbling in the margins of a Latin textbook.

“Excuse me, sir,” said Morstyn in a small voice. He was only a Lower-Fourth-Former and thus fortunate that an elder boy from the Remove, two whole years his senior, deigned to help him with his Latin. One did not address such a personage with the familiarity of an audible voice.

His tutor did not acknowledge him. Morstyn craned his neck, hoping for a clearer glimpse of what wisdom the textbook was being graced with, but failed to make it out. His tutor turned the page and continued scribbling on the other side. Only he didn’t keep using his right hand, like common mortals. No, he simply moved the pen to his left hand and continued as if nothing had changed.

“Excuse me, sir.” Morstyn tried a slightly louder voice, which sounded to him like shouting.

His tutor looked up. “Ah, Hollock. Is it seven o’clock already? I thought I had at least half an hour to finish this. Where have you been?”

Morstyn hung his head humbly and clutched his papers to his chest. “Mr. Stainton has given me back my exam, sir.”

His tutor raised an eyebrow. “And? Did he improve upon ‘Latin of a quality that would rouse Julius Caesar from the grave, if only to bash your head with every bone in his body’? I don’t think it gets much better than that.”

“I don’t know yet.”

“He gave you an exam without a mark? Creative. Builds suspense.”

“No, sir. I haven’t looked at it. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

Morstyn thought he saw his tutor sit up a little straighter, but surely that wasn’t possible for someone with the steely-rigid posture of royalty.

“So you couldn’t bear to find out alone? You need someone with you in this hour of distress? Come on, let’s get it over with. We can at least give him marks for original commentary. Masters these days will just keep slacking if we don’t continue to hold them to the highest standards of composition. Stainton has promise, if only he will apply himself. The damage, young Hollock.”

He held out an imperative hand, and Morstyn bestowed upon him the examination as gently and solemnly as if it had been a scepter at a coronation.

His tutor scanned the pages briefly and flipped to the end for Mr. Stainton’s final remarks. Morstyn gazed in horror at his face, waiting for it to reveal how apologetic a letter he must write to his parents tonight. But his tutor’s face remained inscrutable.

“So,” he said coolly, “whose paper did you copy from?”

“No one’s, sir.”

“Really? After I told you it was your only earthly hope of getting a decent mark?”

“I couldn’t do it.”

“Now, Hollock, you can be honest with me. You know I’m not a sneak.”

“I didn’t cheat!” Morstyn was surprised at how loudly the words burst from his mouth. A boy seated further down the table turned to stare at him.

“Then how do you explain this essay that makes vague grammatical sense? I didn’t even think you knew this word. And it appears that you have discovered syntax. This is not the Hollock I know. Unless you’re leading some kind of double life? And this time you sent your dark self who learned Latin from his infernal residence to take the exam for you, while you…took the afternoon off to do whatever it is Hollocks amuse themselves with in their idle hours?”

Morstyn didn’t quite follow this. Perhaps he would when he too was in the Remove and practically grown-up.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I just…remembered things more. I think? Or I didn’t?” He shrunk back as his tutor displayed the exam, inscribed in Mr. Stainton’s hand with a mark that he had only ever seen from a distance on schoolmates’ exams. Not a perfect mark by any means. But strikingly different from his last one.

His jaw dropped, as did he, smack down on the bench beside his tutor. He didn’t mean to be impertinent. Such unearthly revelations required intense processing, best done from a seated position.

But even this shock could not prepare him for a brisk clap on the back and a hoarse “Well-played, Hollock” from the mouth of his tutor, Liddick himself.

Hollock murmured his thanks, but Liddick had returned to the margins of the textbook and didn’t seem to have heard.

#The Blackberry Bushes #The Blackberry Bushes short stories #my writing #Jestidge Kesson #Morstyn Hollock #Josiah Callon #Elystan Liddick

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