Journal of a Demi-god: Mask of Love and JusticeJournal of a Demi-god: Mask of Love and Justice2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Journal of a Demi-god: Mask of Love and Justice
A Sailor Moon Mask TG transformation story by JanusDaGuardian
A Victorian-era style building that forced its students into the same boring routine of classes with self-righteous teachers, two-faced friends, random pricks, and the worst possible food to eat, ruled by unions who's only care was to guilt well-meaning parents into voting for budget increases every year. That was what high-school was for James O'Connell.
As a student who'd failed his junior year, James had seen it all. Friends and fellow classmates trading their middle school identities for masks that hid themselves from the preying outside world, many doing so just to look acceptable in the jungle of arraying social statuses. In this building though, it was almost justified. It was a means to literally keep themselves alive, just like the mask James was wearing now.
James wasn't a stylish dresser, his usual clothes consisting of black pants and a red beater with matching red
Journal of a Demi-god: Mask of Twilight TGJournal of a Demi-god: Mask of Twilight TG2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Journal of a Demi-god: Mask of Twilight
A Costume TG Transformation Story by JanusDaGuardian
Pollux, also known to some locals as “the man-in-black”, “black-robed angel”, “creepy mugger”, etc... looked out the window of the small principals office of the rowdy Manhattan high school, counting the number of ticks coming from the nearby clock. Several months had passed since he'd begun to rectify the disturbances in the realms he was entrusted to protect. The snow was gone, and the frequency of rain in the small corner of the world he now stood in was beginning to lessen. Summer was right around the corner, the sun teasing his bare hands as he gazed onto the streets of the aging metropolis that was New York City.
The door to the office clicked open. Pollux knew who it was, so he didn't turn around.
“You're late, Mr. Washington. Have a seat.”
Jayden Alan Washington was a black teenager of about seventeen late-winters.