#that girl is being kept alive like fucking puppet on some strings that's what her vision and will to live / revenge is doing to her

[cryoweaving]

if hyv won't validate xiao's fear of causing harm with his karmic debt, i will. his karmic debt would absolutely harm caiying if she wasn't a vision holder.

#also played around a bit with the idea of how like. bc caiying is definitely weaker than other vision holders. being close #gives her some aches. like a headache or ache in her bones. some minor changes in her heartbeat. #that girl is being kept alive like fucking puppet on some strings that's what her vision and will to live / revenge is doing to her #i have no idea what's going to happen to visions at the end of this game but like. #if they go and there's not a back up plan for her #she will 100% die i'm sorry but i will not give the happy ending #idk idk i'm gonna go on a personal thing in the tags rn #as someone who does have mental health issues i wish the power of friendship could like #heal me fully. #it doesn't but it definitely helps to have friends. #but i think it's important to remember that the karmic debt that xiao has is a 'real' thing in the teyvat world #there hasn't been a method introduced to get rid of it in canon #while i think the 'power of friendship' can help xiao with his karmic debt in some ways #the truth of the matter is that it's always going to be there and affecting him and others #his fear of causing harm is real and backed by previous examples (ie. lore and the other yaksha) #instead of being like 'xiao make some friends' idk why they just don't propose #looking through some fucking lore to find out if there is a way to actually help with the karmic debt #the power of friendship is not going to save xiao (unless hyv decides it does which like .... k ) #the fact of the matter is that physical pains he's experiencing aside #i don't know how much longer xiao even has being. like. alive. bc of his karmic debt #he's like. 2 fully traumatizing events away from shit going down. #he's still an individual. there's limits to everyone.

[ponett]

i was finally able to see the bad star war that everyone said was bad. as it turns out, it was bad. here’s a read more post with my thoughts on it so that i don’t spam my twitter with spoiler tweets

for a baseline: i like the original trilogy, but i don’t think any of those movies are perfect. i think the prequels had some good ideas but i were mostly terrible. i love the clone wars (both versions) and rebels. while i admit that tfa was extremely similar to a new hope, i thought it was executed great and had a wonderful new cast that showed a ton of promise. i liked rogue one, although i found its first act really sloppy. and i have some quibbles about tlj, but it had an incredibly strong vision and actual themes, and i’d consider it my favorite in the series

i’m exactly the kind of person who was always going to hate the rise of skywalker, because it’s basically a bad fanfic written by someone who didn’t like tlj and wanted to “fix” the story. like that bizarre story treatment jenny nicholson read for this movie. the bad one. it was like that

it wasn’t all bad i guess. here are the small things i liked:

some of the new environments were cool. there was cool imagery and practical effects work

i appreciated that the moon of endor where the death star wreckage was wasn’t just the one with the ewoks, and thought the vibe there was cool

zorii bliss’s armor was really cool

the image of the fleet of star destroyers all lined up was striking

i liked that the ghost showed up for the final battle

i liked that ahsoka was one of the jedi voices rey heard, even though that kind of implies that ahsoka is, uh... dead?

while extremely fucking trite and dumb, i’ll admit the closing scene on tatooine got me. yeah, rey has no real connection to this place and it’s just a nostalgic throwback, but i’m a sucker for full circle endings like that

uh. that’s about it

this movie kicks off in the middle of an action scene and just kind of keeps jumping to new setpieces nonstop until it’s over. new characters and locations get introduced and then moved past in the blink of an eye. there’s no time to let any of it sink in. it feels like abrams crammed two movies worth of shit into this one to make up for the the fact that some people didn’t like tlj, and as a result none of it resonates. i just felt so empty throughout most of the film. events were happening on screen and none of it mattered

thoughts about individual elements:

LEIA

putting the scenes with the recycled footage of carrie fisher at the beginning of the film completely took me out of it. it was so obvious that she wasn’t really responding to what was being said, and the conversations had just been built around the limited leia lines they could use

the dialogue scenes with leia felt like a space ghost interview

C-3PO

was in this movie a lot for some reason? i guess abrams wanted to make up for how little c-3po there was in the last two movies. they tried to have that emotional moment where his memory is wiped, but then they just turned his memory loss into a big joke?? and then he got most of his memories back anyway

in general, the movie is afraid to let the audience be uncomfortable for long. 3po’s memory loss. the supposed deaths of chewbacca and babu frik, that sort of thing. you’re not allowed to be sad. after tlj so effectively built tension throughout the film and really pushed the heroes to the brink, this is a disappointment

LANDO

is here because he needed to show up, and because it’s a throwback to have him pilot the falcon again. he’s just kind of there with little to do and no arc

FINN, POE, AND ROSE

before the movie came out, i had low expectations. all i really wanted was to get one last fun adventure with the new characters. when i started to hear about the spoilers, my expectations sank even lower. but maybe i would still get this

nah! rose gets like two minutes of screentime because redditors hated her, and finn and poe are barely even characters. they don’t have arcs in this film, they’re just sidekicks on rey’s journey

finn really hurts. prior to tfa’s release, finn was framed as the new star. this was, of course, a bait and switch, as rey was really the new jedi. (finn apparently IS force sensitive according to this one, but hey! we can only have one big jedi hero, so like leia before him, i guess we’ve gotta wait for some EU novel to give finn a lightsaber)

but finn was still a central character in the last two films, and he had so much potential. he was a stormtrooper who defected! that’s something new! that’s interesting! it complicates the black and white morality of the series. but no. that’s been all but abandoned at this point

many have complained about how tfa establishes that basically all the stormtroopers are people who were kidnapped as children and brainwashed by the first order... but then they still have no qualms about gleefully killing them. in the first two movies i was like “yeah, it sucks that they have to kill those guys, but if it’s to prevent genocide, it’s understandable. that’s just war. maybe they’ll touch on it in the last movie.” so in this one, they kept reminding the audience that the stormtroopers were enslaved as children. jannah is even introduced as another stormtrooper who defected like finn. but then... it goes nowhere. finn doesn’t get any first order troops to defect. they don’t care about the other stormtroopers. how many hundreds of thousands of enslaved soldiers did they kill when they blew up those star destroyers

it was nice to see finn and poe take the charge as leaders in the end, but it also feels like they didn’t take the lessons from tlj to heart. the whole point of that story was that one-in-a-million shot heroic suicide missions aren’t worth it, and that they’re more useful to the resistance alive than they are as martyrs. but then in the climax of this film they take like 30 ships to go fight a fleet of a hundred fucking star destroyers

on the subject of that final battle: i thought that the ending of tlj was so powerful. the resistance was decimated, but they still had hope, because they knew there were others out there who could help. people like rey, or the broom boy, who came from nothing but had good hearts. in this one, though, they say that apparently nobody responded to the leia’s call for help in the entire year since the last film. everyone only shows up during the climax after lando’s like “no, but for real guys, we need help”

and i did think that that sequence was cool. and i did like seeing the ghost among the ships. it was fun. the message that fascists like the first order rule by making people feel isolated, and that they’re defeated by realizing that good people are never alone? that was good. i thought that was a strong message. but it’s such a minor footnote on a movie that’s so bad in so many other ways

oh and they made the latino dude a drug dealer. okay. thanks for that

KYLO REN

i hate that they redeemed kylo and i hate the way they did it

yes, him being coerced to turn to the dark side by snoke (who was apparently just a puppet controlled by palpatine all along (UGH)) as a kid was tragic. but that doesn’t excuse his actions. kylo was given infinite second chances throughout the trilogy, and every time he responded with violence. he killed so many people himself, and willingly took part in a fascist regime that killed billions. yes, his story is sad, but he’s not some poor little boy, he’s thirty fucking years old and he vents his trauma by slaughtering innocent people

literally the entire main trio of the original trilogy died because of this asshole. han tried to talk to him in the first movie, and got stabbed and dropped into a pit. luke died astral projecting to face him in tlj. and now leia just kind of arbitrarily died to flip the switch in his brain from bad to good from across the galaxy. it’s literally as simple as that. he doesn’t have a personal journey here. he just stops being evil because his mom made him through the force

like, again. all those enslaved stormtrooper grunts who had been brainwashed since they were kids? gunned down. but giving kylo endless second chances is the most important thing in the world

and then they end the movie by having this creepy abusive stalker genocidal asshole sadboy kiss rey, retroactively framing their dynamic as a romantic one. just, gross as hell. even in this one, for most of the film, all he does is threaten rey and boss her around

i dunno. i thought the first order were interesting as antagonists. yeah, they were just the empire 2.0. but i thought it was appropriate! the idea was that just because palpatine was dead and gone didn’t mean that fascism was gone. there were still hateful people who wanted to rule the galaxy via genocide. like how we still have nazis in the 21st century. except, oops! palpatine was actually alive and pulling the strings the entire time, so now that theme’s out the window. we just have to kill him again FOR REAL this time and now the galaxy will actually be safe

people wondered where the first order would go after snoke died in tlj. but it was so obvious to me? kylo was in charge. kylo was always the most interesting bad guy. just let him call the shots and be the final adversary. but no. that wasn’t good enough. we had to bring back palpatine as the jrpg final boss to have an epic conclusion

REY

oh, poor rey. youtube critics got mad that a girl could be a strong jedi without being related to some other powerful force user from the old movies, so now she’s stuck being a palpatine forever

i will admit, the protagonist of the new movies being related to palpatine but still being a good person in spite of her heritage... that could have been something. but it’s so clearly not what they had in mind from the start, and it spits in the face of the last movie’s themes. it turns out greatness CAN’T come from anywhere. it has to come from one of these select few Special Bloodlines

oh! and this ALSO reframes rey’s parents abandoning her and selling her into slavery as an act of kindness, because they had to hide her from her spooky evil grandpa. so THAT’S fun. (edit: OH! and luke and leia knew about rey the whole time!!! and didn’t go out and look for her!!!!)

it’s just. it’s so bad what they did to rey. i don’t know if i even have much to elaborate on there, everyone’s already said how stupid it is

---

overall, i still wouldn’t say it’s the WORST star wars movie. it’s more watchable than the phantom menace, that’s for damn sure. the actors put in effort. the sets and practical effects are nice. it’s just so... empty

tros possibly feels the closest to how i imagined the new trilogy would be when it was first announced, but in a bad way. a movie built entirely on established ideas of What Star Wars Is with nothing new to bring to the table. it’s like a bad eu novel. just recycled imagery, cameos from characters we already know, palpatine coming back from the dead, that sort of thing. it’s a movie made by committee to appease reddit. it’s nothing

now i gotta use that free trial of disney plus to watch the mandalorian and wash the taste out of my mouth i guess

[ellaenchanting]

Hypnovember Day 12: Stage

Somehow this story refused to be short. Even this version with all its’ extraneous details  is abbreviated. Based lightly on the biography of one of my favorite hypnotists. Very lightly edited- may do another read through tomorrow am. Feel free to point out mistakes. 

Curtain up on a handsome young man attending university in the 90s. 

Brandon took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror. He could do this. He'd actually learned to enjoy the stage fright these past few months he'd been performing. It felt electric and helpful- a little reminder that he was alive.

He ran through his old confidence trick of imagining that he was Paul McKenna. He'd seen McKenna perform once  back in first year. He was magnetic on stage- mesmerizing the audience well before he had even formally hypnotized anyone. As a shy, awkward, closeted kid,  Brandon had admired how confident the hypnotist was. He held effortless sway over his volunteers and his audience. Brandon had wanted to be like that- feel that in control of something.

So Brandon began to teach himself hypnosis. The library had some books and he had some friends who were kind enough to let him try things out. Somewhere along the way, Brandon had gotten really good. One night after work at his bar job, he had even managed to hypnotize the owner’s girlfriend. She was a fun natural subject and they had worked really well together. The owner had been so impressed that he asked if Brandon ever did stage hypnosis. When Brandon said yes (a small white lie), the owner had offered him a slot for a show every other Tuesday night.

After the first month or so, doing stage hypnosis started to feel really great. Brandon had a routine and he mostly stuck to it, but the volunteers reacted differently enough that the show felt new every time. Brandon felt connected to his volunteers. And even though what they were doing was inherently silly, it was also magical and exciting and fascinating. 

Brandon stepped out on the small stage and began his pre-talk. Like the rest of the show, It was a variation on the same old speech every week (one of the regulars at the bar counter always rolled his eyes when Brandon began) but the routine gave Brandon enough extra brain space to scan the crowd and take notes for himself. A ginger girl looked really engaged and was laughing at all the jokes right on time- she might be a good volunteer. A man in a hat had kind of slowly blinked when Brandon said "sleep" earlier- that could be a good sign. Or he might already be too drunk, Brandon thought, judging the number of  beer glasses Brandon saw under him. Many audience members tonight seemed open and engaged. That would probably give Brandon a good selection of volunteers...

And then he walked in.

Brandon saw the guy from the campus GLBT club last week. The one Brandon had finally forced himself to go to. (Brandon had been frantically trying not to think about sex and sexuality issues for years, but this year he had finally started privately using “the g word” in his own mind when labeling himself.) Actually going to the club had felt really awkward until he began talking with a friendly guy there named Scott. Scott had drawn him out- asked him about himself and his interests. Scott told him a bit about his life too- he talked about being the only gay guy on the rugby team and how he had won the  other players’ respect. 

Scott had an easy laugh and an easy charm. Brandon had certainly felt charmed by him. Maybe a bit too charmed.  Brandon felt the zing of a crush beginning to start. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that yet, though. Brandon had not mentioned the hypnosis thing to Scott- it felt weird and personal and he had already half-convinced himself that he was being creepy in response to Scott’s platonic friendliness. He didn’t want to scare him off.

He had never expected to see him here.

Scott smiled and waved at Brandon. It took everything Brandon had to keep his pre-talk speech going on autopilot. All of a sudden, he felt very exposed and very known. Like Scott had walked in on him masturbating or something.

Focus.

Brandon tripped up a little bit on the magnetic fingers test, but no one in the audience seemed to notice. He had a few people who seemed to be responding really well so far. (He studiously did not to look over at Scott.) Brandon channeled his enthusiasm into his volunteer call "So if you're ready to have the best time of all tonight, go ahead and come up on the stage!"

A few people came up- Brandon sold volunteering some more while trying to make eye contact with a few more possibles. It was always good to give himself options. He verbally encouraged volunteers to find and  sit in the hypnotic chairs behind him. When he finally felt like enough people had volunteered, Brandon turned around

He saw Scott sitting directly behind him, smiling up at him expectanly.

Fuck.

Professionalism, Scott remembered. He kept on with his routine, doing some basic relaxation steps and then starting at the beginning of the line of volunteers with a series of quick inductions.

He got to Scott.

Scott was already looking spacey. He looked up at Brandon in the most open, trusting way.

Brandon felt something in him stir.

NO. He thought. Focus. 

He took Scott’s hand in his and started his induction.

“Push on my hand.” Scott’s hand felt warm and rough against his.

“Harder” He looked so sexy when he was concentrating. 

“Harder” He smelled so good.

“Now- SLEEP!” 

As Brandon pulled his hand quickly away, Scott just..collapsed. Like a puppet with his strings cut. His eyes had rolled back and they had already started moving a bit under the lids. Scott’s mouth was hanging open. He looked debauched and so open and so gone...

NO.

NO NO NO

Focus

Brandon needed to stop himself. Thinking on his feet, he course corrected. “Let’s have a round of applause for all of our volunteers! Now- since we have so many excellent subjects up here, let’s say we make it just a ladies night tonight. We’ll use all and only female volunteers. What do you all think about that?!”

The crowd cheered in enthusiasm. Thank goodness. Brandon woke up all of his male volunteers and continued the show. 

Crisis averted.

Scott came up after the show to shake Brandon’s hand and talk to him. Brandon somehow managed to touch Scott’s hand again and not blush, even with that strings-cutting moment still vivid in his head. Scott asked if Brandon wanted to meet him for a pint but Brandon declined, citing exhaustion.  He already felt bad enough for lusting after Scott during the show- if he let his guard down Scott might notice something was off. He needed to go and sort himself out.

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

Brandon  decided to give  going to the GLBT club a miss that next week. He had been fantasizing about Scott all week- his big trusting eyes, his slack expression, what he could have made Scott do while he was under his power. He felt ashamed to actually go face him with those thoughts running through his head. Brandon took a walk and had a cold shower that night instead.

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

Scott was in the front row when Brandon began his next stage hypnosis show.

He had brought friends. 

The group of girls, who had obviously already had a bit to drink, were cheering and rowdy. They weren't rambunctious enough to get kicked out, but they were certainly enough to rile the rest of the crowd up. 

Brandon gave the first part of his pretalk then launched into his magnetic fingers routine. He decided to experiment and turn it into a bit of a group induction, continuing on into an arm levitation on the fly. After a few minutes of patter, he asked people to open their eyes and see how high their arms had gotten. A few people had arms that were floating a foot or two off their legs.

Scott’s arm was floating up at his head. 

It looked like he was raising his hand.

Scott looked up at his arm with a kind of distant, happy surprise. 

Brandon chose a few audience members to come on the stage who had experienced some success with the exercise. He purposely did not choose Scott. No need to put himself through that again. 

He was just getting ready to put the last chair away when he heard:

“Scott! Scott!”

One of the drunk girls.

“Scott! Scott!”

Now all of the drunk girls.

“Scott! Scott!”

Then the rest of the audience, laughing a bit as Scott cheekily waved at them.

Brandon swallowed and steeled his nerves. “Scott, would you like to come up?”

The audience roared in response. 

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

Brandon managed to keep his shit together through the beginning of the show and a few basic skits- pretending shoes were puppies (Scott made the most adorable faces), playing an imaginary piano (he had...agile fingers), and name amnesia (that confused look, though).

 Brandon went right into the next skit.

“OK when I wake you up in a moment, you’re going to imagine you’re at the top of a tall mountain and it’s freezing up there- you’ll imagine that you’re so totally cold and every time I say the word cold it gets colder, every time I say the word cold you get colder...”

Scott was already shivering, doing brilliantly. So was the blonde in the red shirt.

Brandon woke them up, verbally encouraging their shivers and teeth chattering. The volunteers huddled together for warmth. Scott ran his hands quickly up and down the blonde girl’s arms to warm her up.

“And now, “ Brandon said, “the cold’s gone away and you realize that you’re not on the mountain at all! You’re in a hot place! You’re in the desert and the sun’s coming up and it’s getting hotter and hotter...”

Brandon kept his patter going on autopilot as he watched the group react, looking for what reactions to encourage. The blonde was fanning herself. The bald guy was going a bit red. And Scott-

Scott was taking his shirt off.

The drunk girls yelled encouragement from the audience. 

Scott’s hands worked to throw his shirt over his head. Time seemed to slow. Brandon could see the muscles in Scott’s chest. He was sweating. 

Brandon stopped dead in his tracks for a moment.

Scott moved his hands to his belt buckle.

Brandon raised his voice “And NOW the temperature is normal again. Normal comfortable temperature. And you can go ahead and stop what you’re doing and sit back in your seat, that's right..”

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

Brandon fled the stage as soon as the show was over. He made an excuse of needing to use the toilet. He stayed in there for 10 minutes to calm his nerves.

Scott was waiting for him when he came out. 

Brandon made another excuse of checking on the other volunteers and left. 

30 minutes later, Scott was still at the bar. Waiting.

Resigned and secretly pleased, Brandon walked over. 

“Hey Svengali!” Scott said with a smile. “Did you like having me under your spell?” He winked playfully. 

Brandon laughed awkwardly. Suddenly he was all out of words. 

Scott came closer. “Seriously, though, that was a lot of fun. I felt really relaxed and playful. Being hypnotized feels really zen, y’know?”

Brandon found his voice, “Yeah, you’re a really talented subject. You’re really creative and imaginative and..willing.” Brandon looked down, his own words making him shy. 

Scott’s mouth quirked at that last word. “Brandon, I don’t want to freak you out  but- I’ve spent the last hour and a half focused on you. Really focused. And I was paying attention to what you said but,” he looked Brandon in the eye, “I could kind of tell you were focused on me too. Intensely.”

Brandon turned red. “I..I’m sorry, you must think I’m so creepy, I..”

Scott stopped him. “No Brandon, you don't get it. I wanted to be focused on you. I’ve wanted it ever since the club really- but especially since I saw your last show. Watching it kind of...helped me understand some things about myself. What I wanted.  And I wanted you to notice me too. Why do you think I wore this shirt tonight?” He smiles teasingly. “I remembered your show last week. I knew I’d have the excuse to take it off for you. Did you like what you saw?”

Brandon nodded his head.

Scott nodded back, understanding. “You liked watching me take my shirt off. And I think you liked watching me be hypnotized, too. Following your commands. Acting under your spell.”

Brandon blushed at his quiet, involuntary moan.

 Scott looked at Brandon’s with gentle compassion. He held Brandon’s hand in his for a moment and put a piece of paper in it. “I know you’re newly out and i don’t want to pressure you. I like you a lot, though, and, well- I think we have a lot in common. We’re...compatible, in a way. So if you ever want to hang out some time or go out or y’know, stay in together...” he squeezed Brandon’s hand and let go “...give me a call”.

Scott looked Brandon in the eyes one more time, then walked away.

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

Brandon angsted over the number for exactly one day.

On Wednesday night, he picked up the phone. 

“Hey Scott? Hey, It’s Brandon. Listen, I’m working on some new ideas for my show. Would you like to come over and help me test them? Maybe on Friday?  I’ll make you dinner.”

It was a start.  

#hypnovember #m/m #stage hypnosis #this one ended up being long #and maybe confusing time-wise #apologies about that #it's a coffeehouse au #only with stage hypnosis

[rainforestgeek]

If you lose your strength to stand (I’m gonna reach for your hand) pt. 9 “Tell Me it’s Not for Nothing”

Part 8

AO3 link

--

The next morning Keith woke up from the deepest sleep he’d had in years. Light breath purred against his neck. Matt’s arm draped over his side and they lay pressed together back-to-chest. He was loathe to leave the warm bed, or disturb Matt, but Keith had things to do. He’d indulged in this comfort long enough.

He carefully extricated himself from the blankets, slipping out of Matt’s hold and into the cool ship air. He gathered his space suit and armor from the floor and started getting dressed.

Keith was strapping his blade to his belt when Matt stirred. He sat up and stretched. Keith indulgently took in his lithe, muscular torso and toned shoulders. It felt so good to be explicitly allowed to look. Especially with the memory of all that smooth skin under his hands. Matt grinned sleepily. “Hey.”

“Morning. You should get ready. It’s probably gonna be a long day.”

“So romantic.”

Keith’s face burned. He mentally scrambled for a response.

“Sorry, I’m just kidding.” Matt got up and gave Keith’s temple a gentle kiss before pulling on his pants.

Keith relaxed, relieved. Words returned to him. “I’m going to the dining hall. You should stay and eat breakfast here. I know Pidge’ll be happy to see you, too.” He made to leave.

“Wait, Keith.”

He stopped and turned back.

“Um.” Seeing Matthew Holt look uncertain was so bizarre. He kept looking from the floor to the ceiling and back to the floor.

Keith waited.

“Last night, I ran into Lance in the hallway. Is…should…you’ve known him for a while now. What kind of guy is he?”

Uh. Out of left fucking field. But then again, most questions came across to Keith that way. “In summary, he’s a dependable idiot.”

“What do you mean by idiot?”

“He pretends to be an asshole. It’s distracting when he flirts with girls on missions.”

“Has he ever flirted with Pidge?”

He thought for a second. “I don’t think so. Matt, if you’re worried about Lance playing Pidge or something, don’t. They’re close. He wouldn’t do that.” He hesitated, then, trying to be comforting, took Matt’s hand and squeezed it.

Matt’s eyes focused on him. He leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips, lingering a moment. “Thanks, Keith.”

Keith couldn’t understand why a simple kiss like that flustered him so much when they’d had sex just last night. He swallowed. “See you at breakfast.”

Out in the hallway he saw Lance in his street clothes standing in front of Pidge’s room. He didn’t do anything, just stared at the door with his hands deep in his pockets.

“What are you doing?”

Lance jumped. “Umnothingjust – ”

“Okay, wrong question. Why are you standing outside Pidge’s room instead of knocking like a normal person?”

“Are you really telling me what normal people do?” He glared at Keith, but there was no real heat in his voice. He started walking in the direction of the dining hall. “Whatever. I just…we’re dealing with so much stuff today and I don’t know if she’s still asleep and she’d rip my face off if I woke her up, so excuse me for being a tiny bit afraid of knocking.”

Keith fell into step with him. “Don’t worry about it. Coran will get Pidge out of bed.”

“Why are we still talking about Pidge?”

“Why are you talking about Pidge?”

“Because you are!”

“I’m not the one waiting outside her bedroom first thing in the morning.”

“You – !” All the blood rushed to Lance’s face and he huffed like an agitated dragon. Keith had almost forgotten how fun it was riling him up. And familiar. He couldn’t resist poking further.

“Did you need to tell her something in private? Something secret?”

“I CANNOT believe I actually missed you, you jerk!” Lance stormed off ahead.

You did? Keith thought.

That was weird hearing so directly from Lance. He knew Pidge and Hunk did, and obviously Shiro –

His fists clenched. Shiro wasn’t here. He hadn’t been for a long time. Keith physically restrained himself from punching something.

He never did see Pidge that morning. She wasn’t at breakfast, and she wasn’t at the tactical meeting with Emperor Lotor either. Coran and Lotor and the other paladins were on the bridge when he followed Matt inside, star maps projected through the air, but no sign of their smartest teammate. And he wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Where’s Pidge?” Hunk asked.

“Sequestered in my rooms with the mice,” Allura said. “She is running analyses on data she gathered from the clone. She came to tell me earlier and I decided not to interrupt her progress.”

“Speaking of which. How the hell did a galra spy get on board the Castle?” Lance demanded.

Keith avoided eye contact when he replied. “I don’t get it. The Black Lion took me to him. She recognized him as Shiro.”

“Yeah. Can’t the Lions, like, see inside our souls?” Hunk asked. “Unless you can make an exact copy of somebody’s brain it doesn’t make sense. Wait, is that possible?”

“It’s irrelevant,” Allura said. “The Lions bond with our quintessence. The very fundamental energies of our lives.”

“So how do you copy quintessence?”

“You cannot. Not even the Druids are capable of such magic.” Lotor looked thoughtful. “Shiro spent time as a prisoner of the empire, yes? Fighting for entertainment?”

“What’s your point?” Matt said.

“He has a cyborg prosthetic arm, work of the Druids no doubt. Which means they must possess the original arm. It's probable they extracted its quintessence and grew it in the clone.”

Lance made a disgusted noise. “How do you do that with a dead arm?!”

“Keeping the tissue alive is a simple matter for Haggar, Red Paladin.”

“It is revolting. But more than possible,” Allura agreed.

“But that’s still just speculation,” Matt said. “We know there’s been a spy inside Voltron. It doesn’t matter how if we don’t know why. What specifically does she want out of all this? Why hasn’t she used more insider information?”

“It’d be invaluable to know, Matt. But on that we also have nothing but speculation. What do you think, Lotor?” Allura asked.

He frowned. “I agree that the witch’s plan is of the utmost importance; however, I would remind you, Princess: it must not compromise our efforts to stabilize the rest of the galra,” Lotor said.

Lance half-raised his hand. “Correct me if I’m wrong here, but isn’t that plan in danger as long as we don’t know what Haggar is up to?”

“So we’ll multitask.” Allura sighed. “It is risky, I know. But concentrating our efforts solely on the rogue galra or the Druids would allow the other threat to grow unchecked. We must do our best to tackle both problems at once. I would still like your assistance with the rogues and quintessence, Hunk.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ve been studying Honerva’s science log and I’ve got some ideas.”

“In the meantime,” said Lance, “I’m gonna question Ezor. See what she has to say for herself.”

Keith snorted. Something about Lance leading an interrogation struck him as funny. “What are you going to do – annoy her into talking?”

“Ha, ha, laugh it up Mullet, you’re coming down there with me.”

“Of course I am! She could tell us where Shiro is.” Keith realized as the echo died around him that he'd shouted.

Lance gripped his shoulder. “We’ll get answers this time, Keith. I promise.”

Matt pitched in,“Pidge told me last night she’s making something that can help with that.”

Lance let go and took a step away from them. He said, “That sounds scary. Should I be scared?”

Matt fixed him with a look. One that Keith wasn’t familiar with. “Should you?”

Swallowing visibly, Lance replied, “Of Pidge or anything she makes? As a rule, terrified.”

Matt seemed to like that answer. Keith felt some kind of subtext between the two that definitely went over his head.

--

Lance wondered how many half galra they were going to have behind this glass. They were at two, now. One more and it’s a pattern.

Matt followed them down, making Lance feel tense.  His face was as closed-off as it had been last night, except this time without the joking mask. Now his expression was straight-up stone. But hopefully having his new boyfriend around would help Keith keep from going off like an IED.

Keith on the other hand had his arms crossed. Pretty standard Keith stuff.

Ezor was laying on the floor with her feet propped against the wall. Her soles smushed against the glass, smearing traces of dirt on it.

Keith hit the big intercom button. “Time to talk.”

The galra swung her feet down and sat up to look at them. “Ooooh, the underlings grace me with their presence. Where’s Mr. Bitch Slap and Miss Queen of the Universe?”

Lance stepped closer to the glass and tried to look confident. “Sorry. You won’t be seeing the princess any time soon, let alone get your hands on her.”

Ezor cocked her head. “Whelp, sucks for me, because that sort of impedes me doing my job.”

“Okay. You’re fired.”

“Lucky me.”

“Look, we don’t care about you. We want to know where Haggar is.”

“What’s in it for me?” She asked lazily, leaning back on her hands.

“We don’t kill you,” Keith growled.

Ezor shrugged. “Eh. That sounds about right. Haggar’s probably with Sendak, pulling his little puppet strings.”

“That would mean she’s dead. Which we know isn’t true.” Matt sounded just the tiniest bit proud despite performing his best imitation of an ice statue.

“Huh. Then I don’t know.”

“Hey Lance, I’m smelling a giant pile of horse shit,” Matt said, turning to face him.

Lance bit back a snicker. “It’s really stinking up the place. Think we should eject it?”

“Can’t smell it if it’s in space.”

“Rude.” Ezor protested.

“Then make yourself useful, and quick.”

She huffed. “I don’t have a tracker on the woman, I don’t know where she is.”

“But you’re working for her. You and the other generals,” Lance said.

“Look, we’re just trying to survive by now, okay? Lotor went bozo – years of dedicated service all to become universal outcasts. Most people would do anything to avoid execution and I’m no exception. But I must say, this is the nicest cell I’ve been in so far.”

“You’re a mercenary.”

“And dodging the question.” Matt narrowed his eyes. “If you want to stay alive, then tell us what you know about Haggar’s plan. What’s she after?”

“Oh that’s easy: take down Voltron. You’re really slow around here.”

“From the inside. Nice try, but no cigar," Lance snarked.

Keith whispered. “I don’t think she smokes.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” he whispered back.

“Oh good job! You found the little project she planted.” Ezor’s tone was more condescending than all Lance’s most hateful middle school teachers combined. “Guess you do have two neurons to rub together if you weeded out the spy.”

“What has she done with Shiro?” Keith demanded.

“The original? That one’s probably dead.”

The words hit Lance like falling hail. He waited for Keith to blow up at her. When nothing happened, he glanced to his left to see Matt squeezing Keith from behind in a tight hug. Keith’s eyes slid shut and his breathing evened out.

Matt looked at the general evenly. “You’re lying. You were on the ground, alone. You had to have set up a rendezvous point.”

Lance swallowed back the ice in his throat. “Yeah! Where were you gonna go after killing Allura?”

All three of them jumped at what happened next: Ezor fell onto the floor and started cackling. She laughed so loud she clearly couldn’t breathe. Her red face turned magenta.

“What the fuck is so funny?” Keith said.

“She – does not – want the pri – princess dead, you primitive worms. My – ” she took a moment to regain her composure. “My orders were to kidnap the princess.”

“Then where was the rendezvous point?!”

She smirked. “Right at the border of the Patrulian Zone. You can chase her there if you want, but if you go there you’ll definitely die.”

Patrulian Zone…Patrulian Zone…Quiznak, why did that sound so familiar?

Matt frowned. “She’s right. No one uses any route through that section of space anymore. Too many ships have gone missing.”

It suddenly hit Lance. If an actual light bulb had manifested itself above his head just to go off at that moment, he’d totally believe it. “HOLY CROW!”

He sprinted towards the elevator and shouted over his shoulder, “Keep questioning, I’ve got to tell Allura!” He ran to the bridge, which was empty, then searched the Castle at top speed until he arrived at the princess’s bed chambers. He swallowed back the awkwardness about approaching her in her private space. He knocked on the doors.

“Allura? It’s Lance, I’ve got important news!”

Her voice came muffled from inside. “Come in, Lance.”

He opened the door and skidded inside. “We were just interrogating Ezor and she – oh!” He froze. “Um, h-hey Pidge!”

Pidge sat cross-legged on the giant bed with Allura. She was wearing her shorts and windbreaker, and her feet were bare. Her glasses reflected the glow coming from her laptop, which was connected to some weird circular gizmo. All the mice had perched on her head and shoulders to weave tiny braids in her hair. Flames licked up Lance’s face and he quickly looked away to avoid staring. Allura cocked one eyebrow at him from her perch on the bed, and Hunk (whom at first he hadn’t noticed sprawled out on the floor with his ancient holographic science notebook) pointedly looked between Lance and Pidge, only fueling his embarrassment.

“You’re already interrogating her?” Pidge sounded oddly disappointed.

“…Yes?” he replied uncertainly.

She tapped at the gadget plugged into her computer. “Never mind. You were saying?”

“Right, uh. Ezor told us she was trying to kidnap you, Allura, not kill you. We just assumed it was an assassination. Haggar’s orders were to bring you to her at the entrance to Oriande.”

Everyone’s eyes widened. Pidge turned to Allura. “Do you think she could get in?”

The princess shrugged, brows furrowed. “Possibly. She’s technically an Altean with magical gifts. But what she could do with me I don’t know.”

“Maybe she was gonna cut off your arm and seduce you to the dark side.” The stupid joke left his mouth before Lance could stop it. He clapped his hands over his mouth, embarrassed, and heard an agonized groan from Hunk and a cute giggle-snort from Pidge. She bit her fist, plainly trying to hold in her laughter. Lance smiled behind his fingers

“Seduce? I hardly think so!” Allura’s scandalized yelp drew back his attention.

“You see what happens when you say stuff like that?” Hunk said. Lance shot him a glare.

Pidge took several deep breaths, to calm down. It obviously only worked like three-quarters of the way. “It’s a reference to a classic Americ – Earth movie. He means maybe Haggar wants to convert you to her cause, so you can be evil Altean alchemists together.”

Allura wrinkled her nose. “Perhaps. I suppose she only knew where to go because of the clone.” Lance nodded. “Haggar’s lust for power is dangerous. If she gains such mastery of quintessence then she could destroy the economic balance we’re trying to achieve and wreak disaster upon every living thing in the universe.”

Hunk’s eyes had gone so comically wide Lance was amazed they didn’t fall out of his skull. “Are you KIDDING ME? Zarkon is dead and now we have to deal with THIS? You guys do not sound scared enough! How do we stop her? PIDGE?”

“Hunk, lower your voice,” Allura admonished, “you’re scaring the mice.”

Pidge typed away at her computer. “I’ve been analyzing the clone’s galra arm. If we get close enough I might be able to track down Haggar, and since we have a good guess where she’s been…”

“…We could get in range and bring the fight to her. Pidge, you are brilliant!”

Pidge smirked at Allura. “I know.”

Lance’s stomach fluttered – then growled. The conversation was veering where his usefulness vanished anyway, so he made to leave the geniuses to do their thing. Hunk was already talking magical defenses with Allura. “I’m gonna go eat something and get back down to the cell.”

“Wait, I’ll come with you.” Pidge gathered her stuff and jumped clumsily off the bed. She looked and sounded a lot more manic than usual. “You wanna see something stupid?”

“If you hold up a mirror in front of my face, you’re dead to me.”

“Ugh. Opportunity missed. Come on, I just have to get something.” She grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the room. He caught sight of Hunk and Allura looking meaningfully at each other, Allura outright giggling.

Pidge led him through the corridors and to the Green Lion’s hangar. Her work station was a mess. When she let go of his wrist, his skin tingled where she’d touched him.

“How do you find anything on here?” Lance asked, poking at something that looked suspiciously like a mechanical spider.

She batted his hand away. “It helps when nobody moves my stuff.” She handed him an alien bullhorn. Then she covered the opening with some kind of circular fan-looking thing - the one she'd had hooked up to her laptop earlier. It didn’t really look like a fan, but it was the closest comparison Lance could come up with. Pidge pressed the center button, making the outer ring (which she spun a few times like a dial) light up blue. “Okay, say something to me.”

“Is this the thing I heard you were making for interrogating reasons?”

“Lance, just use it like a normal bullhorn and say something.”

He was so torn between annoyance and affection. He was trying so very hard to be annoyed at her – she hauled him around the castle, she kept him up half the night (fine, the Pidge in his head kept him up half the night – technicalities). But despite the obvious bags under her bloodshot eyes, Pidge’s face was lit up like a Christmas tree and she was bouncing in excitement.

So Lance tested out her little invention: “I thought this was gonna be something stupid.” But the words came out in the high pitched, pebbly monotone of an old robot. His eyes widened. He started making little jerky robot movements. “Holy crow Pidge, I’ll never doubt you again.”

She giggled, her face flushing a bit. Probably sleep deprivation. “The dial on the outside changes the voice filters.”

He examined the gadget. “What’s ‘PW’?”

“Patrick Warburton.” Lance looked at her blankly. “The actor? 20, 21st century? One of the most iconic voices in history!”

Lance chuckled. “Since when were you a movie nerd?”

“My mom is. They made some weird-ass cartoons back then. Just try it, Lance.”

He spun the dial to “PW” and said the first thing that came to mind. “Did you sleep at all last night? Whooooaaaa-ho-ho-hooooaa. This is the smoothest, sexiest voice in the history of everything.” He playfully struck a pose. “Hey, girl. Cassanova’s here.”

Pidge laughed so hard she doubled over, hands on her knees, and visibly gasped for breath. Her cheeks turned a striking shade of pink. Lance’s heart break-danced proudly in his chest and he couldn’t have stopped his own grin if he’d tried.

“That was ridiculous.” Pidge’s laughter died out when she tried - and failed - to bite back a yawn. “The other settings are silly but I had to include that one.”

He put down the bullhorn on her warzone of a work table. “It is amazing. Total show-stopper. Is it useful? Or was this, like, stress-relief?”

Pidge took back the gizmo and started fiddling with it. She turned back to her work table, her back facing Lance. “We can attach it to any speaker in the Castle. Any of them. I figured we could hook it up to the containment cell and questioning Ezor will be so much funnier now.”

Lance giggled just thinking about it. “We’re not done interrogating her, you know. We can still use it.”

She turned her head, smiled at him, and continued, “I just figured, you know. Anything to lighten the mood around here. Make things easier for everybody. Yesterday sucked.”

Madre de Dios. That was unexpectedly sweet. In a rough, awkward, Pidge-kind-of way. He wondered how Pidge was dealing with the whole clone Shiro thing. Like, emotionally. She did look a little crazy today.

He frowned when she let loose another huge yawn. “Seriously, how much have you slept?”

She tried to glare at him through her drooping eyes. Valiant try, but dice. He gently tugged her out of the hangar and in the direction of the dining hall. “Enough. I just need some caffeine.”

“Not the same thing as beauty sleep, Pidge.”

“Who cares if I’m beautiful?”

Definitely ignoring that question. “Fine. Big-brain sleep, then.”

“Coffee.”

He rolled his eyes and they walked in silence.

Completely out of the blue, Pidge muttered, “…reminds me of peanut butter.”

“Huh?”

“Patrick Warburton’s voice. It tastes like peanut butter.”

“You can taste sound?”

“Yeah, sort of. It’s called synesthesia. My senses get a little crossed so my brain makes some weird and powerful associations. Green’s purring is like sparkling lemonade. Hunk’s voice is like cinnamon rolls.” Her eyes stared out into nothing, big and unfocused, like she only could pay attention to what she was saying.

Lance hesitated, wondering if he really wanted to know. “What does my voice taste like?” He immediately cringed. Nice going, McClain. She’s gonna think you’re so –

“Um, apples and cream cheese.” Her answer came quickly.

Lance’s thoughts skidded to a stop and he stared at her.

“What? Is it weird?”

“…That’s extremely specific, Pidge.”

She shrugged. She looked at him from the corner of her eye with a mischievous spark. “Be glad yours is positive, like Hunk’s. But Lotor's is black licorice.”

Lance barked out a surprised laugh. “Have I ever told you I love your brain?”

P A N I C.

Pull the fire alarm! Make a run for it! Stop, drop, and roll! Find the emergency exits and pray you don’t die!

Pidge stopped in her tracks and looked at him for a long moment. The sirens blaring in his head steadily quieted. Amber eyes anchored him to the spot, and he couldn’t look away, couldn’t even blink, they were so entrancing. He noticed there were faint stripes of chocolatey brown around the edges of her irises. She looked at him like he was encrypted computer code and she needed to solve him.

Which was weird, honestly. Lance sure as hell isn’t encrypted. His papi always called him an open book.

Finally Pidge quirked one side of her mouth up in a soft smirk. Lance didn’t even know a smirk could be soft. “You could stand to say it more frequently.”

Flames licked up Lance’s cheeks. Yeah, he couldn’t handle any more of this. He slung an arm around her and steered her into the kitchen, keeping her propped up against his side. Lance heated up some of that weird fruit coffee Hunk made for Pidge while she hoisted herself onto the counter. When he handed her the space mug, he noticed that Pidge was a little above eye level with him with her sitting up so high. Her bare feet swung and tapped the cupboards below. She took a sip with her eyes never leaving his face. It was like staring into a spotlight.

“Stop giving me that look.”

“What look?”

“That look. The one on your face.”

Pidge just grinned and raised an eyebrow at him. Lance busied himself with finding what passed for nutritious food around here. If she wouldn’t sleep, he’d at least get some protein into her. And himself, holy quiznak he was hungry. She was still staring at him when he looked up.

Desperate not to spontaneously combust under that gaze, he blurted the first distraction that sprung to mind. “Last night I saw Matt leaving Keith’s room!”

She choked on her drink. “Leaving like they’d just finished a late-night conversation or…”

“Well. I heard some stuff through the wall last night that definitely wasn’t talking. More like moaning.”

“UGH, Lance! What the fuck!”

“Pretty sure that’s what Keith was doing to – ”

“Finish that sentence and I will destroy all your skin care stuff.” She rubbed her forehead. “Why would you say that to me? Now I’ve got that mental image of my brother and…gah.”

Was that his brightest decision? Yeah, probably not. Lance knew more than well enough how gross hearing about your sibling’s sex life can be, even just mentioning its existence. But desperate times called for desperate measures and she’d finally stopped scrutinizing him. He could breathe normally again.

He ended up shoving a bowl of food goo into Pidge’s hands (what? He could barely cook Earth food) and hopping onto the kitchen island across from her with his own bowl of Jell-O-y green weirdness. They ate in silence for a while.

Eventually Pidge spoke up, looking into her bowl and using her spoon to play with the goo. Avoiding his eyes. “Actually, I’m kinda worried about Keith.”

“Why? Is your brother a heart-breaker?”

“I’m serious, Lance.” She sent him a brief glare then looked away again. “Keith fell apart last time Shiro disappeared. What’s he gonna do now that he’s lost him twice?”

“Three times.”

“What?” she asked distractedly.

“Keith lost Shiro three times. Kerberos first.”

“Oh. Right.” Pidge stabbed her food. Lance looked carefully at her face. Her eyes, kept stubbornly wide open, were shining with unshed tears.

Lance had already cried himself dry yesterday. “Keith’s gonna be okay. We’re all gonna be okay. I swear Shiro’s still alive.”

She looked up at him. “Did Ezor tell you that?”

“No, she said he was probably dead. But he has to be alive! I know it, I could feel it. Remember? In the void thing? That had to be him.”

“I hope you’re right, Lance.” She set her bowl down, got down off the counter, then hopped up onto the island, sitting next to him. She smelled oddly like berries and tea.

“Pidge…” he started slowly. “Why didn’t you sleep last night?”

He could see her struggling with her answer. She was so close that he felt her body heat on his arm. I guess it makes sense a girl’s gonna be the death of me.

“I couldn’t sleep.” The words sounded rough and quiet. “So I went to the med bay to study the clone. Lance, every cell, every gene sequence, every piece of circuitry, even the scars matched perfectly with our scans of Shiro’s physiology. I kept thinking if I could find the differences then I could figure out how he was being controlled. But it looks exactly like him.”

Her head fell on his shoulder and she squeezed her eyes tight. The soft impact dislodged her glasses. Lance carefully took them off her face and set them aside (and tried to ignore his heartbeat insisting that this was a crisis). He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she curled into him.

“I kept thinking what if he was the real Shiro? What if I was wrong? What if he’d actually been corrupted somehow? I did sleep, for like five minutes. I just dreamed about shooting him, over and over and over again. So I got out of bed and built a voice-altering gadget. Hold me a little tighter, please?”

He did. “Pidge, why did you shoot him? What made you so sure?”

“It’ll sound weird.”

“You have floating fluffy caterpillars for pets and I found you on the roof scanning the solar system for aliens, and you’re worried about weird now?”

She laughed and it made his heart a little lighter. “I looked him in the eyes and it was painful. Like when someone shines a flashlight in your eyes. You should’ve seen his expression when he attacked you, Lance. It was feral.”

“You wanna know what’s messed up? When you said it wasn’t Shiro, when Lotor said it was a clone, I was relieved. I didn’t wanna think Shiro would yell at me like that.”

She mumbled into his shirt, “Never. Shiro would never say all that bullshit. I guess it all makes sense now.” Pidge gasped and so suddenly Lance swore he got whiplash she jumped out of his arms and onto the floor, leaving the right side of his body feeling cold. Her eyes went manic again.

“Lance! If that was Shiro, really Shiro talking to us in the Voltron mindscape then we can talk to him through Voltron!”

The solution was so painfully obvious he couldn’t believe they’d overlooked it until now. “He’s connected to the Black Lion, who’s connected to the other Lions – Pidge we have to try this right now! We need to get in our Lions and talk to Shiro!”

“We need find Allura and Hunk and get Keith!”

Part 10

#plance #pidgance #flirtyrobot #slowburn #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #vld fix it #fanfic #katt #pidge #lance #katie holt

[phantomoftruth]

An Aspiring Coven Flips the Coin: Complete Edition

I figured due to things being spread out and such, it might be nice to put my recent 3 part coin flip story into a single, large post so you can read the whole thing here as a Halloween treat^^. Happy Halloween everyone!

NOTE: This story turned out very long, thus, I put it under a break. Click below to read the whole thing!

It was a Friday night, mid October, as Janice, Nessa, and Quinn huddled around the table in Janice’s locked dorm room, gazing at the magic coin with excitement and consternation. The room had its stack of text books, but they were easily dwarfed by the owners clear fixation on the occult. Books of magic and witchcraft, compendiums of folk lore, myths, and monsters filled shelves and fought with crystals and candles for space. Though for now, they simply had the lights on, showing art of fairies and creatures that ranged from wondrous to dark hanging from the walls.

Janice, the owner of the room, and the one that found the coin, clutched her occult diary to her sweater-clad chest. “So, we each flip once, and whatever we choose applies to the three of us together, good or bad, and we’ll take our turns by seniority. You both agree as well?” Janice was a 3rd year studying folk lore and mythology that hid her height with an unconscious slight hunch, and concealed her pale, shapely body with plain clothes. Her strongest feature was the wild mane of black hair that often concealed her face, spilling all over. She was the founder of the would-be coven, and while she fidgeted a bit as she spoke, her mania for the occult carried through in her voice and gleaming dark eyes that she fixed on her coven-sisters.

“Hey, I’ve got no problem,” Nessa spoke with a smirk and a casual shrug of her sun-tanned shoulders. “You’re our fearless leader, and even if we switched it around, I’d be second regardless.“ Nessa was in her second year, pursuing a liberal arts degree secondary to her appetites. She had a pear-shape to accompany her slight pudge, and knew how to work her hips for dancing and fucking. So what if she liked to eat? The guys she snagged didn’t mind her love of cooking, or her big fat ass, and her favorites always were the ones she could throw her weight around with a bit. She licked her full lips, toying with a bit of brown hair, green eyes hooded as she pet herself lightly, speaking with a bit of husk in her voice. “Besides~ Just thinking about what that thing can do is getting me warmed up.”

“Yeah! You didn’t even have to share this with us at all! Sure it’s scary, but it’s once in a lifetime! There’s no way in hell I’m passing this up!” Quinn pounded the table as she spoke, her 80s cut top with her current horror favorite, Scissor Sister on it slipping to reveal a shoulder bathed in freckles, brown eyes brimming with vigor. 18, it was her first year away from home, pursuing theater, costume design and practical effects. Sitting next to Nessa only made her flat chest and curveless body even more pronounced, as though puberty had simply skipped right by, leaving her to her freckled skin and short, shocking red hair. Nessa teased her about her lack of a bra and her lack of sex in general, but her passion for horror movies and monster make up made her passionate about her studies.

The three reached over the table, joining hands as they spoke together. “As sisters we swear.”

Sitting back, Janice took the coin, and made the first flip. “If the coin lands on heads, then grant us the power to make people into monsters. If tails, let us become monsters, each to our type.” So intoning, the occult manic flipped the coin.

It landed on tails.

The changes were steady but irresistible, and each girl was consumed by their own transformation, forgetting the world and each other as the magic took them.

Janice clutched her diary to her chest, panting as the darkness of her hair drained down and spread over her body like ink drowning paper, staining her skin into a dull black hide, and leaving her hair pale like moonlight, drained of all color. There was a chill on her that made her muscles taut and her nipples hard and every touch a tingle as her already wild hair grew like madness. Janice gasped as her hair didn’t just grow, but moved, alive and caressing her body, teasing her even as it rooted into her clothes, ripping them. A surge moved through her and the already damaged clothes were destroyed as Janice grew even taller as sleek, sinewy muscles pulsed into being. That same pulse spread to her extremities, as her fingernails became moon-colored claws, and even her toenails grew sharp and pointed. Her tongue turned black, running over gleaming, pointed teeth, while the darkness in her eyes grew even deeper. Her living hair touched her diary, and she could feel a pulse in it as well. She didn’t fully understand it yet, but all her notes on the occult, her studies of creatures, all her passion and obsession was part of what she was now, and she needed it.

Rising to her feet, Janice looked towards a full body mirror hanging on the wall, and while she now had killer abs, she was forced to duck down to see her face and shoulders. She had become some kind of black-skinned, statuesque ogress, wearing nothing but the hair on her head that even now gently swayed in a phantom breeze. Thinking about it made it stop however, and she realized she could control her hair like her body. With that, other things clicked into place. She was a predator made to stalk darkness. She felt the strength, the confidence. And her book. It gave her magic, and protected her life. She had to keep it safe, and keep filling it. The more she filled it, the more magic she would have. More power. Despite herself, the thought did make her tight pussy twitch, and a stray strand of white hair wrapped and tweaked her glossy black clit, making her shudder.

Nessa’s pussy twinged just a moment before an orgasm wracked her body with pleasure, drenching her in sweat that quickly made dark stains on her clothes, even as the crotch of her yoga pants darkened with wetness given her lack of panties. Her nose twitched, even as warmth suffused her, dazing her slightly. She was sweaty, but it felt good. Clean. Right. She smelled right. Fuckable. She stuck her tongue out to taste the scent and found herself drooling like crazy, letting her tongue loll limply. That drool pooled on her swelling chest that snapped her bra and strained her top, which turned to tatters as the change spread from her chest through her body, making everything soft and heavy and thick and ripe. Her arms were meaty now, and her stomach was round like the full moon. She couldn’t see her pussy anymore, but she could feel it, feel the waves of heat spreading to her legs and thighs as she just kept gushing which her stomach gurgled soothingly, like a stream. Nessa’s yoga pants desperately clung to life as long as they could, but suddenly snapped as her hips grew, becoming brood-bearing. Even keeping her newly weighty legs closed would require effort, naturally exposing her plump, juicy pussy and fat clit. Her ass followed suit, filling and thickening and jiggling. Doors would be a challenge in her new future.

Nessa’s pussy pulsed again, finishing her with the most drastic, monstrous changes. Her tanned skin darkened and shifted, becoming a mottled mix of earth browns,  mossy grey and swampy green, chased with orange hints of a harvest moon. The sweat on her body thickened, becoming a permanent glistening on her now hairless skin. Her nipples fattened and darkened, oozing something thick and syrupy, and her cunt followed suit, making a puddle on the dorm room carpet. Her lolling tongue grew and grew until it was frog-like, tickling her nipple, tasting her own sweet syrup. Her brown haired turned to a curly wave of Spanish moss, and all over her body, things began to grow. plants sprouted in her new hair, shelves of fungi sprouted along her back and under her heavy breasts, holding them up, and a mushroom cap, like a hat, sprouted from her head. Mycellium grew where her webbed hands and feet were on the carpet, and random plants were growing in the pool of her pussy-syrup. Whatever she was, she was ripe as a fruit, fertile and milfy as fuck, and as she came back to herself, she tested her tongue as her webbed hands roamed her body, stroking her belly and seeking her needy greedy pussy. It took some stretching, but she could reach with both hands, and despite probably weighing double what she did, her new body was plenty flexible. Perfect for breeding~. Just thinking the word made her clench as a spurt of plant life sprouted all around her.

Quinn froze as the magic washed over her body, a tingling feeling settling into her skin. Her gaze was fixed, staring into space, but she could feel her body quivering, like the strings of an instrument just waiting to start, and her face fixed into a smile. She felt the familiar feeling of hair brushing her shoulders as every other hair on her body disappeared. A fresh wave washed over her, and she tilted her head down, looking at her hand as her skin went pale, then milk-white, and flawless as porcelain. All over, she could feel touches like invisible brushes, dotting all along her body, and she despite her new strange skin, her freckles were increasing, becoming intricate patterns from her shoulders down her arms, making art of her back, and continuing to expand, forming swirling, sweeping decorations. There was a click, and Quinn came back to herself, saw her hand as lines appeared and connected, forming new joints. First the fingers, then the wrist, the elbow, the shoulder. Without seeing, she could feel her body changing, becoming a puppet body. No, a doll body. Her head lolled when the change reached her neck, giving her a look at her changing body in her old clothes. She still had a slight yielding quality to her body, but there was a definite clicking as her new body settled into place. Some kind of plastic? Soft wood? It was silly to wonder when magic was involved, probably more so when it was her body she was thinking about, but she just couldn’t resist. Not to mention her body wasn’t going to be changing on its own again anytime soon.

The magic passed over Quinn one final time, and her quivering body was freed, no longer spellbound. She went to jerk her head up from its heavy tilt, and instead had a sudden moment of the world spinning as her head detached and rolled off into her lap. Which was freaky, but kind of awesome. Looking at her body, it was one of the most beautiful pieces she’d ever seen. Her skin was ghost-white, and flawless, decorated with countless freckled spots, like it was painted by elves. Picking up her own head, she felt her hair, marveling at it as she got a look. It was a real, deep red now, silky but with some curl. As the last of the magic took root in her, she couldn’t contain her excitement. Reattaching her head was simple enough. Seemed everything was detachable. Her fingers seemed dexterous enough, and she was brimming with energy without the slightly scrap of fatigue. Not knowing anything else, she could do a lot with this. Some parts, anyway, as she eyeballed her flat chest, and a quick check downstairs with her fingers revealed her crotch to be soft and yielding enough, but dry as only a sex doll could be.

Their transformations completed, the three friends finally looked away from themselves, taking in each other’s new, monstrous forms. Janice was easily the tallest, to the point that Quinn looked like a child next to her now, including being able to lift the doll-girl with only one arm. At Nessa’s insistence, Quinn stripped as well, revealing pointed nipples on an otherwise doll-jointed, sexless body, while the other girls took turns poking at Nessa’s swollen belly and budding garden growing out of the floor, which the broodmother herself was more then content to pick parts off of and eat as she teased a nipple.

“Alright Nessa,” Janice cleared her throat, not used to her new voice, though she did like how it matched her new body. “it’s your turn to flip. And be careful.”

“I’ve already got just the thing in mind~”

Nessa, now a slimy cross between animal and plant more than twice as wide as a human, took a few moments to stop teasing her new body and shift forward on her new big booty, grabbing the coin with green fingers. Despite her slimy, syurpy touch making plants grow, the coin itself remained shiny and pristine. Was it because it was metal, or magic? Nessa shrugged shoulders topped with budding growth, a gesture that now made her ripe and weighty body jiggle.

“I don’t know about you two, but this body is dying to FUCK. Love spells are witchy, right? And there are sexy monsters that seduce men and stuff yeah?” The other two monsters each nodded a confirmation in turn. “Right! So this is on point. And don’t worry, I’ll word it for you guys as well. Since it seems like Quinn’s not getting her cherry popped any time soon.” Nessa snickered as Quinn rolled her eyes as only a living doll could. “Come on girl, flip already.”

After waving a hand at Quinn, Nessa readied the coin. “On a heads, we will each get magic to seduce others and make them our servants, slaves, pets toys, whatever fits us best! If it’s tails, we’ll be reshaped and ruled by our fetishes, like to the point that we can’t help ourselves. And oh don’t act like you two don’t have them!” Sticking out her frog tongue turned into a slurp, and after sucking it back into her mouth, she flipped the coin.

The coin gleamed and rattled as it fell on the wooden table, before coming to rest. It landed on heads.

The magic bathed Nessa’s fertile form in pleasure, and her eyes rolled back in her head as her body spoke to her, teaching her as it changed according to her flip. Small branches of green and brown sprouted and curled from her back, bearing a mix of strange, fleshy fruits. Vines spider-webbed across her body and limbs, clinging to her slick ripeness and birthing grape-like clusters and berries that adorned her like decorations along her limbs, between her breasts, sprouting from her naval. Even when she bruised or crushed them with her motions, they released alluring scents. More mushrooms and fungi bloomed to life, and the mushroom cap on her head twitched, dusting her in a spore cloud as her body tensed, stomach gurgling.

Mother. Feed them. Embrace them. Breed them. Birth them.

Nessa slobbered as she came, feeling something squishy and round pop out of her thick gushy pussy. She was just so fucking FULL. She was already running over, and was sitting in a little marshy garden as the puddle spread under her oversized ass, a festival of smells and tastes that were wordlessly beckoning to something, ANYTHING to fucking breed her oozing cunt until they made something together.

Wet Mother. Green Mother. You are life. All beasts are soil. Dust. Clay children. They crave you. Desire you. Thirst for your blessing. Become one with them, guide them as your obedient children.

Nessa heaved a breath that made her heavy breasts jiggle, causing drips of syrup to spill onto the table, sprouting small patches of moss, and the communion ended. The broodmother looked at her body, already half-knowing what had happened to her. So weirdness aside, It was about tasting her, whether drinking her juices, eating the stuff growing on her, or breathing spores. She did lean her head forward to look over her stomach, between her legs. There was something that looked like a frog’s egg, the size of a large peach, jiggling on the carpet. I guess eggs count too. And ‘all beasts?’ That’s kind of nasty, but I guess I’m not human anymore either. Some pets might be fun though. Nessa’s frog tongue snaked out as she licked her lips, pondering fresh depravities.

The magic settled on Quinn’s doll body like gentle hands, dressing her in an invisible costume. She wasn’t just excited, but confident. Not just skilled, but graceful. Not just beautiful, but enthralling. Glamorous.

Faerie Maiden! Doll Maiden! Mistress of the stage! Here is the moon, and here is the night! How beautiful the darkness, dressed in starlight!

The magic suffused her, and Quinn shuddered. Everything was so vivid. Was this magic? Was she losing her mind? She couldn’t be drugged with a body that wasn’t alive right? But she was glowing, her skin giving off a pale, silvery aura. Colors were stronger, shadows sharper. Her imagination was running wild, suggestions of invisible creatures swimming across her vision. She was inspired. She was inspiration. Her fingers twitched to life, moving even as the words giggled their sing-song into her inhuman head.

Little miss, little miss! All the world’s your stage, and they are all your players, models for your fancy, canvas to paint with all your desires. Enthrall them, enchant them, give them new roles, new lives! Here is a princess, her hair in tresses, to tease and tickle and terrify. Here is a maid, with scissors and mask, to snicker-snip and aid your craft. Here are the puppets to dance on your strings, and here you are, to clothe them in dreams.

She was only vaguely aware of the impossibility her hands were performing, caught in the grip of her craft. At some point a chunk of the table had come off, and she molded the wood like soft clay. Her fingers snatched a shadow, pulling it like cloth. She’d produced a needle at some point, made of moonlight, and threaded it with a strand of her hair, stitching the shadow with feverish speed.

Chill them, thrill them, fulfill them! Make them laugh and make them cry, make them serve you and never die. Undress them first with your eyes, then your hands, and let them scream however you like as you paint them in enchantments. Each night a new performance! Each role you grant them a new beginning! Mistress of the stage, forever young, forever free! Spotlight or shadow, your place is wherever you choose.

The mask was finished. It was black wood, a polished, beautiful thing, chased with ruby red around its boarders. It was a domino, styled just to cover the eyes, and it made a sharp contrast against her pale face as she put it on. A quick scuttle to the mirror confirmed that yes, it looked as awesome as she imagined. Quinn still felt a bit lightheaded from the rush, but her hands continued unconsciously, picking at her old clothes as she sat on her knees, wrapping her head around her new self. So I’ve got fairy magic. Glamour. Like stage magic, or star power. Charisma. And I can make costumes and stuff out of just fucking whatever, and they’ll take on the role to match it, with me in charge as the director. Hmmm…Quinn actively stopped herself a moment, and got her hand to do a creepy clicky finger clatter, along with a 360 spin at the wrist. I bet I could make that go in reverse too. Like make it so no one notices me until I want them to. That sounds like a fairy thing, being invisible to prank people. Yeah, yeah…

The magic settled on the book in Janice’s hand, and she felt it like it was part of her as the coin’s power caressed it, transforming it into a thick, leathery grimoire, and she threw a clawed hand over her heart as she felt a responding pulse in her chest, and then another in her head. New words were writing themselves into existence, filling her book and her brain equally while her body thumped and her hair writhed, floating as though she was underwater. There was no communion, no rush of insight. The knowledge was just there, secrets of the unknown laid bare in her brain.

The aspect of the Crone embodies wisdom, endings, death, repose, and the waning moon. Wisdom comes by the word. Any knowledge I add to the book is added to me, any magic or witchcraft I write, I can comprehend and perform. People are made of words, and I can take those words from them with the clutch of my hair, take their spirit with their breath, leave them mindless, soulless, in repose, in need of new words, any words I want. I can give knowledge, take it away, seduce, corrupt, control, consume. Take their names and I can make them slaves, swallow them up and they’ll be nothing but zombies, moaning obedience, while I tangle their ghosts in my hair and make them mine. I can rewrite people’s lives. And as long as this book exists as my soul, I won’t end.

It was terrible knowledge, but that only made it more alluring, intoxicating, and intensely tempting. The fact that she already knew all kinds of other folk lore and potential witchcraft only made it more inviting. She could play with it, just in little experiments, taking and giving back, or switching someone up. She could have a little cult bound to her in fanaticism, or drain people down to their dregs, putting their existence down to single words. Her flesh felt powerful, and her body was hot with desire, but it was a heavy weight on her soul as she panted. Her grimoire was a thick, black thing now, veined with strands of her pale hair, like spider webs.

The magic of Nessa’s flip settled down, finished, and the former college girls turned monsters gazed at each other, taking in their changes together as they shared what had happened to them, and the new power each of them held.

As nessa was preoccupied with fondling herself, Janice bent down and picked up the coin between two clawed fingers, offering it to the doll girl. “Alright. There’s one more flip, and it belongs to you Quinn. You’re free to flip whatever you think of that we can share. Choose wisely.”

Quinn, for her part, fiddled with the black shroud that she had magicked her former clothes into, adjusting it on her pale body for different styles.

“Hmmm. I do want to flip for sure, but before I do~” The doll girl smiled, eyes shining.

“I can’t be the only one that wants to try out what we can do now. Anyone else want to have some fun before I do the last flip?”

“Shouldn’t you just-”

“I VOTE DICK!” Both Janice and Quinn turned as Nessa cried out. Loudly. She was currently sitting in a frog squat, pickling some alien cucumber that had burst itself out of the growing garden that was Janice’s dorm room with her syrupy snatch. Each bounce of grey-green hips made Nessa’s overripe ass slap against the floor. As Janice’s room was on the third floor of the building, things were shuddering a bit.

Janice spoke up again, voice full of authority, and Quinn swiveled her head back to face her. “Going out now means the coin is here. I’m not leaving the coin alone, and there’s no way in Hell it’s leaving this room before the flips are done. And given that getting Nessa out of here isn’t really happening right now without people freaking, going out to play means bringing people back here. People you’d have to get fast. People that would be in the same place as the coin. It’d be a nightmare to make it work.”

Quinn looked back and forth between Nessa and Janice, one masturbating in a growing garden and tall grasses, the other tall enough that she had to look up to see more than her stomach, and ultimately let out a sigh. “I guess you’re right.” Her face immediately brightened up, however, transfixed with a smile. “That gives me an idea though! Here, give me the coin, I’ll do my flip right now.” After being passed the coin, Quinn played with it, expertly running it along her jointed doll-fingers.

So clearly, this,” she said, while wildly waving her free hand at Janice’s overgrown dorm room. The motion caught Nessa’s attention, and she pulled herself off the fat greenery she was fucking with a gooey plop. “This isn’t going to work for us. We’re magic. We’re monsters. We need a home base. A hunting ground. A lair. That’s what I’m gonna flip for!” Fixing her posture, standing straight as she could, pale arm fully outstretched, Quinn readied the coin to flip.

“Hey coin, here’s my flip. If heads, make this whole school our domain, us running the show and everyone accepting us and our benevolent rule. If tails, then give us a lair, for the three of us that we share together, where we can really live like monsters.” She flipped, and the coin rang slightly as it spun before Quinn caught it out of the air, slapping it on the back of her hand with a clack.

It was tails.

The effect was immediate. Janice’s dorm room faded away, becoming indistinct before vanishing completely. There was a single moment where the coven of monsters stood suspended in a colorless, soundless void, then reality resumed, rebuilding itself around their new location, their lair.

The sounds of society were gone with the campus, giving way to the music of a lonely, midnight wilderness. The lake was quiet, but the forest was alive with bugs and birds and frogs and things that weren’t quite what they used to be since Nessa made it her pleasure garden paradise. The forest was not the same either, invaded by a wild legion of strange fruits, vivid fungus, and unnamed plant life that only accelerated it’s transformation into a wet, fragrant swamp. But it was a pretty playground, and hard for a human to just stumble through,  Of course, a little magic helped with that. There was even a grotto Nessa loved to use for a bit of extra privacy, and plenty of room in the depth of the lake.

Though she preferred the swamp and starlight, even Nessa couldn’t deny their manor was right where it belonged, in the heart of the swamp, looking over the lake, complete with secret underwater tunnel. The one she’d used to meet up with her coven sisters in the foyer they were standing in now. It was old and musty and spooky, but the mood was just right, all faded and elegant, with fancy stone floors and lots of double doors that made it easy to move around. Not to mention the big dramatic staircase in the center for the second floor. There weren’t any lights, and it wasn’t like they needed them, but there were debates about getting internet going somehow. Well, Quinn wanted it anyway.

New memories formed as the coin’s magic shaped the house to match it as a monster’s lair. Janice claimed the master bedroom on the second floor, less because of any kind of leadership and more to have a room and bed that accommodated her statuesque frame. It being connected to a study certainly didn’t hurt though, and evidence of her practice and experiments in magic and witchcraft came into existence at the same time as the memories of those experiments. The kitchen and the space outside as well showed signs of experiments, with the kitchen becoming a makeshift lab, and a large cauldron resting over the ashes of a wood fire outside. And then there was the library, still bearing a few weathered books yellowed with age and damp. It wasn’t haunted yet, but Janice was working on it, along with filling those shelves herself.

Quinn’s bedroom was smaller, but as sleep wasn’t really a thing for her anymore, with anything approaching rest just being collapsing into a creepy doll-slump, she didn’t mind. Especially given the rest of the house was more or less hers to romp around in. There was a studio that quickly crowded with her projects. Costumes and mixes of pigments, accessories and even puppets dangled from stings from the ceilings. The ground floor hard a large, ruined ballroom, complete with an aging stage. With her and Janice working on it though, she was sure they could come up with something enchanted~. There was even a little gallery with enough room for sculptures, not to mention paintings on the wall. It wasn’t originally her thing, but she was just bursting with energy now, and it gave a little variety over just costume work all the time.

Several sets of stairs going down were peppered into existence around the house, leading to a stony basement layer. Rooms for servants, humble even before time wore away at the few bits there, came into being, along with a cellar and places where the former inhabitants would have worked and lived, doing laundry, a second kitchen, and cunning slits for ventilation that endured. It was fairing fairly well considering the encroaching swampiness consuming the forest, with a bit of dankness that made it feel like a dungeon.

The coin’s magic moved like a tide, pulling away from the newly formed lair, taking root in the three monsters as it set about completing Quinn’s wish for the three to live like monsters. The former college friends were stunned, unawares as the magic dug deep, transforming them all in will and soul to match their new bodies.

Quinn felt her sight expanding, her spirit flying as though it were freed from gravity as her human grip on reality loosened and fell away. She was innocent, and careless, as only the Fae could be. Everything in the world was for her amusement, and boredom the only sin left. She understood now, mortality was something that could just be brushed away, just a thing that happened on the stage. Play. it was all an endless play, with the world as the setting and all the people in it hers to take and change and trick and terrify, outlets for her arts and crafts, pets for her fancies. Fear and awe were the bare minimums she was due.

Nessa quivered as her self melted, touching at something massive and countless and primordial. She was fucking the earth. She was the earth. She was life, wet, squirming life that was around before humans were a blink. They were just another kind of animal to embrace. Whatever taboos she had dissolved. All that mattered was her breeding, her pleasure, her flesh, her children, whether by adoption or birth, until they covered the whole earth. Everything would be green and quivering and alive, and they’d all eat and fuck and breed and birth and sleep and be reborn to doll it all again and again and again and again and again forever and ever until her blood was the one blood and everything was one again, united again in an everlasting dance of life.

Janice felt her hair embracing her body as the darkness that had changed her body before seeped down, staining her soul with haggish wickness and sadistic pleasure. The weight she had felt when blessed with that forbidden knowledge was gone. It wasn’t a burden, but something to embrace. Power. Power was something to revel in. Whether her flexing, steely muscles, her towering black-skinned body, or the witchcraft that suffused her with knowledge forbidden to mortals, power was a delight. And the only thing better than being powerful, was using that power. Not bullying the weak. No, that wasn’t quite right. To deprive others. Yesssssssss. Just the thought of it made her sex clench. To take everything they were, and leave them with nothing. To taunt them, toy with them, twist them about and humiliate them. Drink them down to the dregs until they were dull-eyed little dredges that would debase themselves to lose even more. Her black tongue slid across her sharp teeth, as her face split with a wicked grin as she took control of her hair, teasing herself to her new, sadistic desires.

At last, the magic completed, the coin vanished, leaving the three monsters with their new lair, new minds, and new lives, all thoughts of the coin gone.

Quinn giggled and straightened her dress.

Nessa slobbered, fresh growth growing from her needy body.

Janice picked at her claws, and looked at the former college girls, full of evil intent as she leaned forward.

“The night is still young. NOW, what shall we do for fun~?”

#coin flip #mind control #corruption #monstergirl #complete

[manygalaxiesinone]

What if Gwen Lives Part 7

((Greetings Hee ho dood! Prinnyfrost reporting for duty! Here it is people! The conclusion of “What if” Gwen Lives AU I came up with so long ago!

OR IS IT??!!!

We continue our story with the in Part 2 of the War of the Netherworld. Everyone returns to the castle so they can make a route to the Battleship Gargantua. Like before, Jennifer already put the coordinates in beforehand, but they need to take care of the rest of the ships that are still flying around.

https://shop.tcgplayer.com/weiss-schwarz/disgaea/like-a-picnic-sicily

“You thinking what I’m thinking Big Brother?”

“Hell yeah I am! Let’s do it!”

“Uhh...what are they thinking?”

https://www.deviantart.com/maharl/art/Laharl-s-mother-Disgaea-4-sprite-276434986

“Let’s just say, you may want to stay out of their way for a while. Try not to make too much of a mess you two!”

And insert your own Sonic Forces double boost meme here. Go ahead, it’s on me internet. After the EDF gets completely REKT by two half demon children, the party gets on board. Things play out pretty much the same as before with Gordon warning everyone about the Astro Canon and the cyborg soldiers,

and of course the realization of Kurtis modifying Jennifer.

Then we get a message from Carter pointing out that he’s doing all of this because the world is lacking in resources and pretty much everything you heard Thanos complain about in the Infinity War movie. I neglected to point out the flaws in this “great” plan of his in my EWW: Disgaea post I made some time back, so I’mma let Previous Overlord Gwendolyn say it for me.

“Wouldn’t creating a war such as this escalate the extinction of the human race? I’d imagine you’d have to spend plenty of resources to create such a huge fleet. Also, I’m sure you noticed how quickly those ships have been taken down. My two children were kind enough to let everyone evacuate before destroying them, but even I have to admit that not all demons are this merciful. Even if you did manage to successfully take us over, how would you know that the Netherworld is safe enough for normal humans and has enough resources for everyone? Are you sure you truly care about saving the world, or are you one of those people who make excuses just to do whatever they please and only act just to save their own hide?!”

Carter is conflicted and outraged by Gwen’s response he just insures that they’ll all pay and ends the call right there and then. Yeah, sadly we don’t get to hear Gordon call him a chrome dome.

Now we come to the confrontation with Kurtis. Like before, he tells everyone his tragic past about how he lost his wife and daughter due to an accident at the lab involving criminals and the fact that Gordon not making it in time to save them is what drove him to path he’s on now. Gordon apologizes for his previous failings, but still points out that helping Carter out with this war will still result in countless sacrifices.

“It matters not what planet I’m on, Earth or the Netherworld, I am still a defender! As such, I shall fight with my body and soul until the very end to do what is right, even if it means facing a comrade in arms! Come Kurtis! Let our true spirit clash once more and see justice prevail!”

In the end, Gordon wins and shows Kurtis what it truly means to be a Defender! Unlike before when Laharl and Etna agrees to finish him after winning (before Flonne stops him), this time, there’s only a possibility that Etna might joke about doing that, but other than that, everyone’s pretty much in agreement to let him live.

“Hey Big brother, how about we invite him to stay with us in the Netherworld? This way, he can be a Defender of the Galaxy too!”

“Why not? We could always use another vassal.”

“What do you say Kurtis? Will you fight alongside us as a comrade?”

“After everything, you’re willing to let someone like me join you? Hahaha... You’ve found a hilarious bunch Gordon. Unfortunately, I’ve used too much energy during the fight. My body has to rest for a while. Gordon...be careful of...Jennifer.” -passes out-

They soon meet up with Carter and realizes the modification Kurtis installed in Jennifer wasn’t quite what they expected. Carter explains that this neural override device practically makes Jennifer into his puppet...and naturally Gwen is completely outraged by this act, attempting to blast him with a powerful spell, but Carter’s protected by some sort of force field.

“What kind of father would even consider committing such cruel act to their child?! Something so inhumane only proves that you’re only goal is to protect yourself!”

“It appears you never understand that some sacrifices must be made in order to achieve the greater good. If it means saving the Earth, then I’ll gladly exchange a few lives. Now, I think it’s time to put an end to all of this. Jennifer, start with that foul mouthed woman!”

Jennifer does as instructed, but Gordon gets in the way taking the hit instead. Sicily goes over to heals him as she realizes that he too used a lot of his energy back during his fight with Kurtis and is probably a little spent.

“Hey Prince, why don’t we just blow up the ship? You seem to handle the other ones just fine.”

“I can’t. I promised Sicily I’d give her the ship once this is all over.”

“Aww, I was just about to claim this ship!”

Fortunately, Kurtis shows up just in time to save the day, and like before, it is indeed a shock that Kurtis has already recovered so quickly. Things play off in the original story even with Carter activating the bomb he planted in the device, which naturally pisses off Gwen even more to the point where she made cracks in the force field protecting Carter. This gets Carter concerned since now there’s a chance he could die from the explosion as well and tries to call Jennifer off, but it’s too late. Kurtis sacrifices himself to deactivate the device and save everyone. Laharl tells death to reunite his soul with his wife and daughter and is less tsundere about the reason. Jennifer is back to normal and Gordon recruits her to fight as an equal to him rather than an assistant. Just when it looks like Carter is completely cornered, he calls out the celestial host to aid him, much to the surprise of Flonne.

“It can’t be! Why are angels helping this man?!”

“Celestia’s involved now? I knew they had a grudge against us, but this is ridiculous.”

Gwen: (First an assassination and now this? It’s hard to imagine Lamington would resort to this. Just what’s going on in Celestia right now?)

After the battle the episode ends how it does before, with Carter escaping and being threatened by Vyers to reveal that Vulcanus was the one pulling the strings. Vyers tells him that until he realizes the cause of his actions, he will be plagued by nightmares, proving once again that deep down this is a demon you do NOT want to fuck around with. The episode ends with Flonne’s declaration to go to Celestia.

Now, it’s time for the Final Episode, what lies beyond the battle. Flonne made up her mind to find out what Lamington’s true intentions are, even if it means she has to face him and her fellow angels as enemies. Of course, no one’s letting her go alone for this.

“This is my chance as the Overlord to see Celestia myself. I can’t pass up on that. Besides, I told you. It’s my duty as your guide to make sure you’re kept alive.”

https://picclick.com/Weiss-Schwarz-Disgaea-x-4-Overlords-Spot-Sicily-311654867788.html

“Big brother, why can’t you just admit that you want be by her side? It’s clear that you care about her.”

“No it’s not! I mean, I don’t, but, I- just shut your trap!”

“Come on Princess, you know that the Prince is a big boy now, and big boys like him act tough around girls they like.”

https://shop.tcgplayer.com/weiss-schwarz/disgaea/overlord-sicily

“You mean all those guys that pick a fight with you actually like you Etna? You must have a lot of fans.”

“Well, that’s one way of putting it.”

“Hmph! I don’t need this. We’ll just go on our own if we have to.”

Gwen: “Now, now. We were just having a bit of fun. No one said we weren’t going together.”

“She’s right! As a defender, it would be wrong to be to leave a comrade to fight on their own.”

“No matter what happens, we all have to stick together. That’s what friends are for, right?”

“BEEP BLOOP BLIP BEEP!!! NEVER LEAVE A FRIEND BEHIND! THAT’S THE LAW!!!”

“Thank you so much everyone!”

They make it to the Celestial Gate, created by one of the previous Seraphs to prevent anyone other than Celestial Residents from entering. In which case, it’s a good thing Flonne’s around since Sicily’s not an angel in this continuity. And once they open the gate, they see none other than...

Vyers! Ta-daaaaaaaaaa!

“Didn’t you just say that only angels can get through this gate?”

“Oh, uhh, that’s odd.”

“Maybe he’s actually an angel in disguise?”

Like before, Vyers points out that he just made it up here by chance (even though it’s been over a thousand years since any other demon made it through the gate), and that he’s here to test everyone’s resolve. In the end, he points out that humans, demons, and angels has had a history of labeling each other and that this group can be an example that regardless of their differences, as long as they become one in mind, they can overcome anything. Before leaving, Gwen asks him if he knows what Lamington is up to. Remember, it’s at this point of the story that Vyers realizes that Gwen is on to him not being what he seems, but Gwen has no involvement of what they’re planning. Part of Vyers wants to reveal the truth to her, but ultimately, he knows now’s not the right time, especially since both Laharl and Flonne are right there.

“Vyers, you know what he’s planning, do you? What has the Seraph been up to lately? Please...please tell me!”

“...It would be best to ask him yourself. That’s what you all came here to do, is it not? Why spread rumors when you could hear it straight from the horse’s mouth?”

He then leaves before she had a chance to stop him again. Gwen couldn’t help but still feel at least a little upset about being left in the dark like this, but soon snaps out of it, hoping that there really is a good reason to all of this in the end. The party soon encounter the angels that were sent by Vulcanus to intercept and kill them (despite Lamington clearly stating that he only wanted them captured!) and like before, Flonne is stunned by the reality of having to fight the angels.

“What’s wrong Flonne? I thought you said you were ready for this.”

“I thought I was, but I...I can’t...”

“Flonne, are you sure you’re ready for what lies ahead? To get the answer you want, you must make sure you’re determined to face the hardships that come with it. If you’re not up for it, then we can turn back and head to the Netherworld. It’s up to you.”

“I...” -takes a deep breath- “I’m ready. I’m alright now. Thank you Lady Gwen.”

And this they begin kicking some angel butt. Soon, they come across Archangel Vulcanus...the evilest angel around.

“Hey, Big Brother, doesn’t he kinda look like that villain from that game we used to play? What was his name again...”Dr. Mustache Moron”?”

“HAAAHAHAHAHAAAA! You’re right! Hey Gordon, you sure you two never met before?”

Vulcanus: “Grrr... you filthy demon brats! How DARE you?!”

I would’ve gone with “Baldi McNosehair”, but last I checked, Vulcanus isn’t bald. Anywho, like before, Vulcanus has branded Flonne a traitor for joining with the demons and has ordered her execution, and like before, Flonne points out that by allowing his own heart to be blinded by prejudice, the evil he speaks so much about is in his heart. BTW, #Pwned. Out of rage, Vulcanus calls out more soldiers to take care of them, and they lose. After the fight, Laharl brings out a good point that if Lamington isn’t involved in this, how come he hasn’t come out to save Flonne yet. Despite this, Flonne will continue to believe that Lamington has a good reason for everything that’s going on. Flonne knows that deep down, she’ll be punished for harming angels, but no matter what happens, she’s glad to be around some wonderful people. They soon meet up with Vulcanus again and this time, he attempts to get rid of them by summoning demons he made a pact with where if the party dies, they can have the Netherworld.

“Shouldn’t this count as treason too since you see all demons as “the enemy”?”

“Yeah! You’re trying to make Flonne look bad when you’re no better!”

“Not doing a good job convincing us you’re not the villain here, are ya?”

“Silence! This is act that must be good for the greater good of everyone.”

Before he could explain what he’s talking about, he leaves. Both Gwen and Gordon are viewing the situation and believe it might be best to come up with a strategic retreat...until Kurtis shows up! Yeah, Kurtis is still a prinny for his past sins, and somehow graduated from Hades in such a short amount of time, but hey, he’s here now. Unlike before though, it would be Etna that couldn’t contain her laughter, not Laharl. Also, I’m pretty sure Sicily might glomp him a bit considering her fixation with prinnies. With their morale at an all time high, they can take care of the higher demons and move on to the Seraphic Sanctuary. They see the guards protecting Lamington, blocking the path with their impervious force field. In the original story, it took the combined efforts of everyone, to use a Galaxy Omega Star blast strong enough to destroy the force field. This time, they now have Gwen and Sicily teaming up as well, so their camaraderie is much stronger than before. So I’d say that instead of Galaxy Omega Star, it’s more like...

Universal Peta Star. Not only are the shields destroyed, but they also take about a decent amount of damage before the battle starts.

They soon meet up with Vulcanus and he finally reveals his plan to achieve absolute peace by becoming a god and keep a watchful eye over the universe. Flonne argues that peace can only be achieved when everyone join hands in unity. Vulcanus points out that her idea is doomed to fail due to the deceit of demons and foolishness of humans. And just like with Carter’s argument, I’m going to let other characters point out the flaws in this “grand idea”.

“Wouldn’t your selfish fantasy end in failure too? Considering your views on humans and demons, wouldn’t that bring a lot of lack of trust among you and the people you’re looking after?”

“He’s right. Any great leader would be nothing without the bond between them and their group. I’ll admit, we may have our ups and downs, but I’m proud stick with my friends until the very end.”

“My old man was respected by everyone in the Netherworld because he knew how to handle a kingdom as well as his strength. He went so far as to give up his own life not just for me, mom, and Sicily, but for all demon-kind.”

“Look at Flonne. Despite everything that’s happened, she still believes that Lamington has good intentions. That’s how much she trusts him. See can see the good man he is that other people might be able to.”

“You have shown your bias towards demons and humans. I imagine that your idea of peace would be to alter the minds of others by force or commit mass genocide. Instead of taking time out to fully understand the issue, you assume and act accordingly. If you do manage to become this “god” you envision yourself, ask yourself if you really call this true peace. And then ask that question again the moment you see a rebel intent on claiming your life.”

Ah, thank you Jim for introducing me to this meme. Anywho, despite this Vulcanus refuses to let go of his ambition and decides to fight the party himself. After realizing that he’s been backed into a corner by the power of teamwork, Vulcanus still has one trick up his sleeve, which is to convince Lamington to fight them and watch everyone kill each other.

Before entering the Sacred Alter, everyone takes one final moment to prepare themselves, for they don’t know exactly what’s going to happen. No matter what, they’re going to be ready...or so they think. Once they enter, Vulcanus wastes to try to convince Lamington that this is an invasion, but that plan’s already starting to get thrown out the window because of one little detail.

“It’s been quite some time since our last encounter Gwen. Good to see you’re still doing well.”

https://www.deviantart.com/maharl/art/Laharl-s-mother-Disgaea-4-sprite-276434986

“Same to you Lamington. Still taking proper care of the flowers, I see.”

“You two know each other?!”

Gwen: “We have meet a few times on occasion.”

Okay, I don’t really know if they really did know each other in the past, but it’s another possibility that I won’t deny. It’s probably one of those times when her and Krichevskoy left the castle and let Rainer babysit. That or he could be responsible for the wedding, whatever the case may be. Flonne goes on ahead and asks about why were angels helping humans invading the Netherworld. Vulcanus quickly denies it, saying that she’s been tricked by the demons.

“While demons can be violent, they don’t really act without reason and are really kind once you get to know them. They can be selfish and cynical at times, but demons are capable of expressing love pretty the same way as any other person, whether it’s familial love, admiration, or...”

-looks at Laharl- “...romantic.”

“...”

Lamington finds it a bit amusing that an angel would not only defend demons for their behavior, but also fall for one. Still he agrees that rather than understanding each other, Celestains have blinded themselves with prejudice, considering themselves as everything that’s pure and good, while labeling demons as the exact opposite. He also points out that he’s well aware of everything that Vulcanus has been up to.

Yup! Just like before, he turns Vulcanus into a flower before he had a chance to escape. If you ask me, he let him off easy. I’m surprised he didn’t send him straight to Hades for trying to dominate the universe. Actually, let me know if you want that outcome instead. I might use that retcon in the future. Lamington thanks Flonne for helping to protect the Netherworld from invasion and for stopping Vulcanus, but she still has to be punished for harming other angels. This is something that nobody is happy with. I mean NOBODY!

“Why does Flonne have to be punished?! She did nothing wrong!”

“It was a matter of self defense! She came here just to ask a question and the angels threatened to kill her!”

“She only followed what’s in her heart and stuck to her beliefs! When did such an act be considered a crime?!”

“BEEP BOOP BLIP BEEP!!! FLONNE IS INNOCENT! SHE’S IN AN UNFAIR TRIAL!!!”

“Flonne put all of her faith in you, and this is how you repay her loyalty?!”

“I may not be in the best position to say this, but shouldn’t all of her good deeds like saving the Netherworld and stopping Vulcanus balance out this one mistake?”

“I don’t care who you are, you lay one finger on her and it’ll be the last mistake you EVER make!”

“I...don’t understand Lamington. You send someone as innocent as her to assassinate my husband who was already dead, and now you’re going to punish her after only showing her concerns about the state of being for Celestia?! What in the name of the three worlds has gotten into you?! Answer me!”

“...”

“Please everyone, it’s alright. I’ve prepared myself for this.”

As a final request, Flonne asks Lamington to pardon everyone’s sins, to which he agrees. She thanks Laharl for being the best guide she could ever ask for. Unlike before, she doesn’t give him her pendant. In the original story, the pendant showed that Laharl’s heart is no longer wicked, proving that Flonne managed to reach him and reveal the kindness in his heart. Here though, it’s already clear that Laharl’s kind of a nice guy. While he does have trouble expressing his feelings sometimes, he is much nicer than his original counterpart, so leaving him with her pendant is pointless; however she does give Laharl one final gift...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=breXNVIk4zs

She gently puts her hand on his face and pulls him into a kiss. See, I told you I was saving it. Laharl is completely shocked by this even after when the kiss breaks. Flonne confesses her love for him and says her final goodbyes to everyone. Laharl snaps out of it, but it’s too late. Flonne is turned into her flower. The existence of Angel Trainee Flonne has been erased, along with her sins. Laharl walks up to the flower, not only upset that Flonne is gone, but also at himself for letting this happen. He questions himself, if he’s worthy of being an overlord, despite not being able to protect the woman he loved.

“King Laharl...do you despise me?”

-glares at Lamington- “Despise you? Of course I do you bastard!” -the ground begins to shake-

“Ah! What’s this huge serge of energy?!”

“It’s big brother! He’s losing control of himself!”

“Of course! Surely there’s nothing worse then a man’s scorn after losing a loved one.”

“BEEP BLOOP BLIP BEEP!!! EVERYONE! RUN FOR THE HILLS!!!”

“Kill...you...

“I’LL KILL YOU!!!”

(This is my punishment...I willfully accept it.)

Yup, Laharl’s inner rage has unleashed once again, this time even stronger than before. You can bet your ass Lamington’s not going to have an easy time with this fight. I’d imagine it would be a tough fight, though probably not as before with Laharl’s amplified power from his anger. In fact, I won’t dismiss the possible ending where he ends up killing Lamington, but overtime, he’s reminded of his past experiences, like when he showed mercy to Hoggmeiser after ripping off Sicily, or when he forgave Etna for her betrayal, or when Flonne stopped him from seeking revenge for Sicily’s near death, or when Gwen told him that everything will be okay if he never gives up. Soon, when it looked like Laharl was about to deal the finishing blow, he stops. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, knowing that it won’t bring Flonne back. He goes up to the flower, and unlike before where he sheds a simple tear, this time is bawling his eyes out admitting that he’s going to miss her. Etna and Sicily goes up to console him, and Sicily can’t help but shed a few tears as well. Gwen looks at them and came to a conclusion. She’s glad to see Laharl and Sicily grow up and is glad to see people like Etna help out in looking after them. She’s sure that they’ll do a find job protecting the Netherworld together. She gives the three of them a hug and wishes all of them good luck. That’s right, Gwen is about to give up her life in exchange for Flonne’s, and she ends up doing so...in the alternate ending where Lamington dies.

But here, not only did Vyers just stop Gwen from doing it, he grabs her hand immediately right before she finishes saying Flonne’s name. Gwen is surprised by this and asks him what he’s doing.

“I’m glad you all came to terms with Krichevskoy’s decision. I know it’s not an easy task, but it’s important to understand to let things go and not rely solely on the path of vengeance. I apologize for keeping you in the dark for so long, but allow me to make everything clear. Look!”

Sure enough, Flonne is back! She’s not dead at all! Hooray! Of course, being happy to see her, Laharl gives her a nice hug, while Etna puts her into a minor headlock and of course, Sicily glomps her, bringing everyone down to the ground. The defenders of the galaxy couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief, while Gwen is just confused. Happy, but confused. Vyers reveals that he punishment all along was to turn her into a fallen angel and that she was actually sent to start bridging the gap between the Netherworld and Celestia, not to assassinate the overlord. When he reveals that Laharl and Flonne are the knot that binds the two worlds together, they look at each other and blush as they already have a feeling of what he meant.

“I hope you’ll forgive me. I couldn’t risk either Laharl or Flonne knowing about it early, or we would run the risk of their bond be formed artificially instead of naturally. We didn’t any pressure to damage the progression.”

“I understand. I knew I shouldn’t have doubted your true intentions.”

“Pardon me mister, but it’s clear that you’re more than who you lead on to be. Would you mind telling me who you are?”

“Hmhmhmmm...I suppose there’s no use hiding it now.”

“...”

“Y-You’re...”

“Daddy?!”

“Take great care of the Netherworld you two.”

“Of course! You can count us!”

“R-Right! We’ll keep the Netherworld safe no matter what!”

“Farewell everyone! Haaaahahahaaaaa!” -he bows and his spirit floats away-

Things tend to wrap up like it does in the original timeline, with Laharl making peace with Lamington, everyone returning to the Netherworld, Gordon, Jennifer, Thursday, and Kurtis taking off to defend the galaxy,

and Flonne becoming a teacher in the Netherworld, which is something I’m surprised hasn’t been touched on in the normal timeline. And after one of her classes ends, this happens...

“Come on big brother, what are you waiting for? She’s right there.”

“Y-Yeah, but what if she’s getting ready for another class soon?”

“I’ve seen her schedule. That was her last class for the day.”

“Why do you know that?”

“The better question is, why are YOU backing out at this great opportunity?”

“I’m not backing out!”

“Oh, you should be fine then.” -shoves him in the classroom- “Good luck Prince!”

Gwen: “I believe in you my son!”

Sicily: “I know you can do it Big Brother!”

“When I get out of here, I’m going to-”

“Oh, Sir Laharl! What brings you by?”

-!!- “Uh, nothing really. I was just...”

“Say, are you busy later today?”

“Not really. Why?”

“Well, I was wondering if you could...uh...”

“Do you need me to help Sicily feed the prinnies? That’s okay, I don’t mind.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just...I..”

“Just go on a date with me, okay dammit?!”

“...”

“W-Wait, that came out wrong! Let me try a-”

“Sir Laharl! Of course I’ll go out with you!”

“He...hehe...

“Haaaahahahahahaaaaaaa!”

Welp, that’s the end folks. I hope you enjoyed watching it as much as I did making it...is what I WOULD say if there’s one small thing. You see, in the Disgaea timeline theory post I made, I pointed out that pretty much all of the bonus battles are considered either non-canon to the overall story, or just them fighting off different versions of said character. That is, except for one...

Tyrant Overlord Baal. That’s right, we’re postgaming this story! Tyrant Baal is coming back and it’s going to take more than an overlord to deal with this guy. Here’s the thing. I am open to suggestions on who the bonus characters would be. It’s not going to be a poll, just let me know who you want me to add and I’ll consider it as long as it’s anyone from the NIS series, except anyone from the following titles:

1. Disgaea 2 (Except maybe 14 year old Adell) 2. Disgaea 4 (Except maybe Tyrant Valvatorez) 3. Disgaea 5 4. Disgaea D2 (Sicily doesn’t count)

So, tune in for next time where our heroes take on what could possibly be the greatest challenge of their lives!))

#the mun has spoken #what if #disgaea

[infinitd]

To all the women I’ve loved before..

and especially those I did not. What trivial cruelties we visit on each other. On ourselves. I never meant to be cruel. I just find myself selfish at those moments. Writing our love story with strokes, and kisses and just enough weird to make me a real person. I am not some masterful puppet master. Just a hopeless... guy. English seems to lack the oomf for some of these descriptions but my wordplay is also pretty rusty to say the least.  Love felt: Michelle the First; My first and messiest. Naive and drunk on the blissful obliviousness that only youth can provide. Wild and unrestrained. Seishunda! Youth at its finest. Ruth the Second; My ocean. I brought a flower to a gun fight. I was never prepared but I suppose neither of us was. My teacher, and muse. A compass for a long time after. Unfair in that college girl kind of way uncertain about this puppy at her feet, desperate for her attention. I howled at moons for you for years after the fact. Thank you for not looking back as you walked away. Best thing you ever did for me, that was really just for you.  Megan the Third; and the third is meant to be the charm but probably the most rooted in reality. Ugly, Mixing oil and water, what did we expect to happen? The ultimate chameleon self test. How long can I keep it up for I wonder? I would have kept it up forever. I enjoyed teaching you so much more than I thought I did. You made it so easy to be a Mister. Playing your part so well. It was a good love story, right until the end. I lied when I said I loved you but the lie became something real after all. And yet they don’t actually feel real. Someone like me can stretch the simulation of their emotions to the absolute brink so what makes any of these loves real or even meaningful, other than the things I learnt from each of them, not to mention the other women who came and went fulfilling whichever purpose at their time ( which isn’t necessarily a bad thing ). As life goes on does the harshness of reality of life become more and more of a factor in how I feel love at all. Is there no more giddiness? butterflies in my tummy and heady blissfulness. Just the mechanical and curated experience based on whatever I have felt before. Maybe it is just me and the fixation with anything I’v never experienced before.  THE NEW I’d forgotten I used to think about love all the time, at least in such sweepingly romantic terms. The feeling of being absolutely swept away but that’s only in the stories, and in the great purge of which ever year past some part of my heart was lost. A bit too successful. I don’t know how to love anymore. I had too much instruction on the topic and now I don’t even know where to begin. Unconditional or tempered. Controlled or Bonfire. Honesty or ... less than. And all of them have made some sense at some point or other. This was meant to be a whole thing on what I think love should be like now and the conclusion is simply. “lol idk”. Attraction is strange and I can’t help but feel like I’m making a much bigger deal about this than it needs and yet love is one of those universally compelling topics and feelings. The most insane of the chemical reactions. How am I supposed to reconcile any of these things or my feelings or at all when none of it is even slightly consistent. The only common thread is me and I am, as a rule, unpredictably predictable.  I don’t want to love anyone for a while and it’s because I’m scared. Not necessarily of the pain which is...crippling to say the least but because. There’s no way to do it right. It’s the most ancient thing that we’ve managed to over-reason and analyze and romanticize and bastardize and ruin and recreate and redefine and we chase it all the same. What happens in a world where some other emotion gets the attention. Maybe love is only as complex and complicated as it is because we’ve given it so much attention for millenia. We ruined love by giving it way too much attention. We ruin alot of things that way.

What is love? or what is love to and for me? Who’ll be able to accept all of this. Do i have to put some part of me away, are there some parts we’re not meant to show simply because, or do we do the full honesty thing. Regardless it’s not my problem for a while yet but I cannot deny how much this fascinates me. Few things ever capture my attention, let alone my whole being quite like being in love and I’ve certainly become wiser to compensate for my many shortcomings and even so... All i can do is feel it anyways. This big, glowing thing in my chest when I feel lonely and want to ramble about something, (thank you for letting me). When I really, really miss you and it’s at least once a day, every day; and when i do I’m not even sure if it’s love because it’s such an underwhelming yet compelling pull. Like a very very long string tugging at me just enough that it’s uncomfortable.I felt it with the others too and this isn’t even the strongest one. fuck

What a time to be alive. I get to create myself. A hunk of wood and all I do is chip away what isn’t part of the picture...or do I accept the hunk of wood for what it is. Endless potential.  Idea: a photo series titled “potential” with photos of things in their first stages.  It’s apity you never got to experience me with a full heart but that might also be for the best. Maybe not even that. Maybe it’s just exactly what happened because that’s what happened and there is no meaning or grand design. Just the things we go through and how we live them. What a life.....what a beautiful, messy life.

#love #loss #growth #meaningless