#.myfanfics

[moonclans]

dreaming, living in its nucleus. over, over, and over.

loud and dazzling dreams. dreams that despite all interiority were empty, because they lacked the nucleus of ecstasy.

MEMORY, COME HITHER.

upcoming vergil sparda/alicent hightower. wip. predecessor to cognomen (20??). written by @moonclans and @malangaleaves

art credit: x, x

[medusapelagia]

Love at first sight

written for @corrodedcoffinfest (Prompt 6: HEARD IT IN A LOVE SONG) and @steddie-week (Day 6, Prompt: Dizzy / drunken confessions) Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: none Words: 997

The music pumps in his ears and Steve might have drunk a little bit too much. Not enough to run to the bathroom but enough that he feels dizzy and happy for no reason, so he slams his glass on the bar counter and moves toward the dance floor.

The people are dancing around him like a human tide and all he wants is to go adrift. Someone grinds against his ass but he doesn’t even turn. Steve needs this, a little bit of human contact, the feeling that he’s wanted even if his parents just sent him their last check with a letter saying that from now on he’s on his own.

He should have told Robin, but she was on a date with the pretty barista she had a crush on since forever so he just crumpled the letter and threw it in his drawer, took his keys, and got to his favorite gay bar and started to drink the last money his parents gave him. No better way to spend it after all.

Someone bumps into him too hard and Steve loses his equilibrium. Trying not to fall on the ground he grabs the first thing he can, which apparently it’s a leather jacket.

Fuck.

Leather jackets mean bikers or metal heads, usually closeted ones that will get really angry.

“I’m sorry…” he slurs, “I tripped and…” Steve starts to apologize, but the man that’s looking at him is the most beautiful man he has ever seen. Long curly dark hair, deep dark eyes, and a mischievous smile painted on his face.

“You ok, sweetheart?” He tells him, holding Steve up, “Too many drinks, huh? It happens to the best of us.”

The man chuckles, making sure Steve is stable enough on his feet before turning toward his group of friends, but Steve’s hand is still holding tight on his leather jacket.

“If you could let go of me we could go back to our friends, sweetness,” the man smiles, prying Steve’s hand open.

“No.”

“No? Don’t you want to have fun with your friends?”

“No friends.” Steve tries to explain, and the man frowns.

“You here alone?”

Steve nods, but the sudden movement makes him feel dizzy again. Luckily the other man grabs his arm and stabilizes him once more.

“Sorry… my head is spinning.” Steve apologized, hiding his face behind his free hand.

“Why don’t we sit for a moment, huh?”

“Eddie, come on! This round is on you!” Someone yells next to them, and Steve notices at that moment that he’s not in the middle of the dance floor anymore, but close to the bar counter.

The man grabs his wallet from his back pocket, one hand still holding Steve’s arm tight, “Need to get back to the table. Take what you need.”

“But how can I bring all the beers back?”

“I’ll ask Jeff to help you, don’t whine!”

Steve looks at the dark-haired man and asks, “Eddie?”

“Yeah. That’s me. What’s your name, sugar?”

“Steve.”

“Nice to meet you, Steve. Why don’t you sit with me and my friends for a moment?” he proposes, dragging him toward the bar's private area, “We’re celebrating. We just signed our first contract with a musica label.” Eddie winks, “What about you? Something to celebrate?”

“My parents officially disowned me. And I’m drinking the last money they sent me.”

Eddie hums with a sad smile, “I know a thing or two about shitty parents. But maybe getting drunk in a bar alone isn’t the best choice to deal with things like that. People could take advantage of your state.”

“Are you going to take advantage of me?” Steve asks innocently, “I would let you if you wanted to.”

Eddie snorts, “Thank you for the offer but I’m the kind of guy who prefers full consent to drunk consent. Hey guys! This is Steve! He’s having a bit of a hard day so he’s staying with us until he feels a little bit better and we can send him home safely.”

“Hi Steve, I’m Jeff. Would you like a glass of water?”

“That’s a great idea. Why don’t you get one for him while helping Gareth with the beers? I gave him my wallet.”

“You gave your wallet to Gar?” another man asks, ginning, “He’s going to spend all your money. I bet twenty dollars he will come back with the most expensive bottle he can find.”

“Not my problem, Freak. You know I don’t really care about money.” Eddie shrugs, sitting next to the tall boy who keeps grinning.

“So you found another stray, Eddie?” Freak asks, scooting over to let them sit.

“I can't tell one from another. Did I find you or you find me?” Eddie replies, turning toward Steve who stares at him in confusion, “It’s a line I heard in a love song, always wanted to use it, never got the occasion. Till now.”

“Maybe wait for him to be sober before hitting on him, huh? Don’t worry. Eddie is dramatic like that, but he’s a good guy.”

“I think I love him,” Steve whispers to Freak way too loudly, and the big man chuckles.

“Look at you, Eddie! You just signed your first contract and already found yourself a groupie!”

Eddie reaches out for the glass of water that Jeff is holding and gives it to Steve, “Drink it all like a good boy.”

“I do.” Steve insists, taking Eddie’s hand and putting it over his chest, “Can’t you feel my love for you? It’s like you said. We were meant to find each other.” 

If Steve wasn’t drunk he would feel ashamed of himself, but what he said it’s true. He never believed in love at first sight, but now he would swear by it.

“Ok. Ok. Now drink your water and if tomorrow morning you’ll feel still in love with me,” Eddie says, fishing a chewed pen and writing a number on a napkin “call me.” 

Now with a second part

[smolbonbon]

Despair

A bittersweet short Solar/Moon fanfiction; Please read the Trigger warnings!

TW: Panic attacks, hallucinations, mention of Self-harm (scratching), shocking, swearing, Spinard

Imprisoned and left behind by his own family while the bloodthirsty murderer is on the run. But yes he was the villain in this story. Stuck in grief and helplessness with nobody to comfort him aside from his hallucination of his beloved best friend. Pathetic isn't it?

I will reblog the link to AO3 :)

Here's the sketch version: sketch version

Trapped in a cage as if he was the monster. Moon chuckled as he leaned against the cold wall. Imprisoned by his own family while the bloodthirsty murderer is on the run. But yes they prefer to lock him up instead of letting him kill that animal. Moon grinds his teeth, but no he is the villain in this story. "That's the thanks I get. After everything I have done for them, that's how they pay me back but it's fine, totally fine."

He could deal with the anger of his family later, he only needed to focus on bringing Solar back and then everything would be okay again. After that he can leave for good, they wouldn't want to see him anyway.

However, he needed to find a way out of here first. Moon scanned his cell there had to be something that would help him get out of here. The Lunar animatronic was glad he had night vision because with little light that shone into his room would make it even harder for him. Everything he could see in this small cell was the dripping water from the ceiling and dirt on the floor. Nothing else was in this room and yet it felt as if he was suffocating. Moon's breath hitched as he felt the tight feeling in his chest. "Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic.  You're fine, you will get out of here." Moon reassured himself as he rubbed his arms and moved forth and back. It's just a matter of time before he gets out of here. The crescent animatronic tried to override the computer multiple times but every time he was about to, he got shocked or the computer turned itself off. "Stupid sentient Ai." He mumbled under his breath while digging his nails in his arms.

"Moon, do I need to remind you that you're a sentient Ai as well?" Spinard suddenly replied which startled the Lunar animatronic. "Oh fuck off, you piece of shit."

"Does it make you feel better to insult me?" Moon narrowed his eyes and got up. "Maybe it does but you know what also makes me feel better?" Moon asked irritated. "I'm not letting you free, Moon." Spinard stated and Moon laughed in response. "Oh, I think you will. Computer override c-" Moon shrieks as the cage sparked blue and white lights while shocking him. The Lunar animatronic fell to his knees while panting. "Sun will be not happy about this." Spinard verbalized before going offline. "You fucking piece of shit as if I care!" Moon rose to his feet and swung his fist against the wall. "I will find a way to get out of here and you're going to fucking pay for this!" He pointed his finger towards the computer while fighting not to cry.

Moon wheezed as he sat back on the ground. He gripped onto his sweater and gasped for air. The Lunar animatronic hiccuped while tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Moon.." A familiar voice spoke behind him and Moon didn't dare to look. Usually he would commented something snarky to his hallucinations however the panic prevents him to talk. He panted for air, it felt like he didn't get enough of it. "Breath." The shadowy figure spoke. Moon tried to calm down he really did but for some reason, his chest still felt like someone squeezed his lungs. The Lunar animatronic panicked more as the dizziness took over, then he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Breath, five seconds in through your nose." Solar vocalized while stimulated inhaling and Moon emulated him. "Hold it." And so did Moon. "And now exhale another five seconds." The dusk animatronic told Moon and they did this a few times until he finally calmed down in some extent. He eyed the floor not even daring to look at Solar's shoes. Why was he so pathetic? He dried his tears and hissed when he accidentally touched his scratch wounds.

"Oh Moon.. What are you doing to yourself?" Solar mumbled heartbroken as he saw the scratches on his cheek. His thumb moved over Moon's open wounds.  The Lunar animatronic hissed as if someone was actually touching the wound.  Moon hiccuped as tears swelled up in his eyes he was aware that this wasn't real but he just wanted for once in months to embrace the warmth of someone who loved him. Moon felt the Phantom movement over his face as he looked directly into Solar's eyes. The tired eyes of his lover, the scratches on his tangerine-coloured rays and his little fangs. He wasn't wearing his goggles though, maybe because.. He moved his hand to his hat and felt the goggles sitting on his head. Solar's lips curled in a slight smile as the Lunar animatronic felt his hands drawing circles on his cheeks.

Oh how much Moon missed him, he wanted to touch Solar's pretty face but he feared if he did so then Solar would disappear again. Moon's lips trembled as he closed his eyes. "I miss you, Solar."

"I know I do too, Star boy." He teased light heartedly. Moon rolled his eyes and smiled slightly but the wistful stirred in his chest. "You're not real." He mumbled and Solar didn't reply to that. "You know what you need to do." The Phantom whispered gently while leaning his forehead to his and wrapping his arms around him. Moon breathed hitched as he tried to hold back tears. "I can't." Solar shook his head and lifted Moon's chin. "I know you can. You know exactly what to do." He stated as he looked deeply in Moon's eyes. "I still love you." Solar affirmed and Moon broke down sobbing loudly.

___________________________________

Author note:

So sorry for the pain </3 I try to make more sweet fanfics or art of them in the future.

[captainrukias-husband]

Note: 2nd person POV/Orihime POV.

Warning: TW, alludes to abuse.

You were miles away from everything you knew and nothing here smelled familiar. The kitchen table was dressed with a white cloth, embroidered in roses, and the older woman sitting across from you had the same colored eyes you do, but they looked nothing like your father's. The glass of water sitting before you wept and wept, the glass clinking as it melted, and you could only twist your fingers into the hem of your shirt. Uncertain of yourself.

You and your brother arrived at her doorstep one rainy night and she looked at you as if you were a pest, a roach crawling across her kitchen tiles. But she hadn't turned you away, and in the darkness, sharing a futon on her living room floor, your brother mumbled to you, “This is only temporary. We're safe here. I promise.”

Sora was working today, too, and again your aunt glanced at the calendar casually. As if to remind you of temporary, of the ticking clock on the wall. She never said it aloud, but it sat in the air; it weighed heavily on the back of your neck.

Today was the third day. She had given you and Sora two weeks to find a place of your own, and while on that rainy night it had seemed like an endless amount of time, now you are realizing that it was hardly a kindness. Your brother toiled day in and day out, back when it was later than late and gone again before the sun was up. You are lonely and scared, but you can't show it, even now.

Either way, your aunt was kind enough to lend you a few dresses from the attic. The ones she might have worn as a child herself. They are made of a stiff material and smell old and stale. When you told her you did not know how to shower alone, something twisted up behind her gaze. And you recognized the look, but your aunt was quick to smother it before it could fester between you.

The water hit you dead on and you shrank from it for a second. Her nails scraped slightly as she lathered soap into your greasy hair, and this was easy. This was familiar. But when your aunt tugged at one of your arms suddenly, you locked up instinctively.

Her eyes have found the marks on your skin and this was about the time she decided she did not want to know the gritty details Sora had yet to skim over with her. She set the washcloth into your hand and told you, “There are parts of you that no one is allowed to touch without your permission. Not even family.”

Dinner that night was silent. She made vegetable soup and did not let you leave the table until you ate every last drop. You were so full, you were immediately drowsy. Sleep that night was dreamless and before you knew it, morning light was filtering through the pretty curtains. And for once, you did not feel dizzy with hunger.

Sora snored from beside you, clearly exhausted.

In the kitchen, your aunt laid out a full breakfast. And as you pulled out a chair, she said, “Tell you what. Something ever happens and your brother isn't there to hear it, you come to me."

You weren't sure what it was you found so comforting about her, but in that moment you felt as if she completely understood you, looking at you as if you weren't a child –

She willed you to pick up on her meaning, and for once you were grateful that you saw far too much.

.x.

The two weeks passed and in that blip of time, you felt as if some puzzle piece had fallen into place inside of you.

The new apartment was small, but for the first time you had your own bedroom.

For the first few weeks you had nothing more than a thin mattress and some borrowed blankets to sleep on, a plastic crate to keep your scant belongings in, and an old backpack to take to school. When you got your new uniform, you took to hanging it on the hook on the back of the door. Your brother never said it, but there was much care to be put into keeping up appearances. He invested in an iron and a board to lay your clothes on. The wrinkles smoothed away so no one could tell you live off of packaged noodles and canned food, so no one could see the leak in your ceiling or the locks on your doors; the way your brother bolted them shut every night with sweat dribbling down his temple.

More and more furniture turned up the more hours your brother took at work; a kitchen table, two rickety chairs, a bedframe for your mattress, a tiny sofa, an old television, plates and pans and cups and a sieve. There was a stack of books in the corner of your room that soon had a desk to sit on; you read through them every night until he figured out how to find channels on the TV.

“Things are looking up,” Sora said, and you had to agree.

There was more food on the table and you didn't go to bed with a burn in your stomach anymore. The apartment was beginning to look a lot like home now and when the day came that he finally hung a framed photo of the two of you in the living room, you felt your heart swell and for once you did not wonder if you are normal.

School did not become easier. You heard someone say that it was easy to tell who someone was by the state of their shoes and so you sat on the ground by the front door rubbing the scuffs from their leather faces with a rag until you could see the hallway light reflected back.

The girls at school pulled your hair, and you did not understand why. No one told you that people could be needlessly cruel like this — you’d never known someone you didn’t love to hurt you.

Something tightened behind your brother’s gaze but he did not say a word. When you returned to school the next week, your hair was finely chopped at your chin and you spent the rest of the year silent and uninteresting. The girls began to ignore you and you think this was a better fate, coming home now meant a new relief. There were no bruises on your arms anymore and for the first time since you could remember, you did not have to hide behind excuses when the nurse asked why there was a band-aid on your knee.

“I fell,” you said, and this was not a lie.

.x.

“Call me Tatsuki,” she said, wiping the back of her hand over her cheek. You could see the faint traces of scars on her legs and elbows, but the intense wave of worry you felt fell away when she told you, “I’m gonna be a champion one day.”

You found comfort in her. She was the first person you have talked to in a long time that did not share your blood. You were taken by her words, her low voice and her opinions, her laughter and her jokes. She was fresh, a new presence in your life you had not known you’d craved. At school, she swept in before the other kids could crowd in on you and drew you out with stories of tournaments and playground soccer games and her dreams of becoming famous one day.

You never invited her to your apartment.

Her parents were nice and friendly and there were photos pinned all over their walls. There was a smell to her home that was unique, made your very heart ache for a reason you could not comprehend.

“He was my best friend,” she said when she caught you lingering by a frame, tucked behind the others on the bookcase. She was little in this one, and she was grinning toothily, arm draped carelessly over the thin shoulders of a boy with orange hair and wide eyes. “We kinda grew apart.”

You might have caught glimpses of him at school, in some other class. But it was moments before you realized he was the same person. He was a little taller now, and his eyes were a completely different shape.

You hummed, surprised. “What happened?”

It was the first time she became evasive, and you knew well enough not to pry when one did. “Things changed for him at home. I guess he had to grow up quicker and he didn’t have time for the stuff we used to do anymore.”

You nodded, and then rubbed the thin layer of dust collecting on the glass.

“He has a new friend now, though,” she shrugged, turning away. “Good guy, real big. And he and I still hang out every now and then to play video games. We’re just not as close as before. Can’t talk the same anymore.”

The next time you saw him at school, it was from afar. He was leaning out an open window watching a few birds flutter about on the grass.

You wondered what kind of person he used to be.

.x.

Tatsuki promised to protect you, but you did not allow yourself to settle into this thought. There had been times in your life when promises could not be kept and you had learned that this could not be helped.

The dog, the new toys, the broken crayons, the bruises and shattered beer bottles and muffled screams through paper thin walls — these things take time and sometimes they take too long. Sometimes they never come at all.

Such was life.

And such was the way those nails found their way into the skin of your arm, the hissing insults those girls made, the way they spat you ugly and unwanted.

These things lived in conflict with one another, as sometimes when you’re sitting alone at the park waiting for her to return with a bag of chips to share, there was a boy with eyes that made your skin crawl, with sticky hands that liked to crawl unwanted up knees.

There was the recollection of a time before now, how the word no held little meaning and the response was always shut up and here, the faltering beats of your heart and the cold sweat beginning to layer your palms came natural. The proper response was never taught to you but you knew enough to slide away, to clamp your legs shut and dig the heels of your hands into them.

You could only speak using your body; there was no one here to show you how to use your voice and you were too afraid to ask at this point.

Tatsuki always returned in the nick of time, but you did not take this for granted.

Life was not like in the story books.

Sometimes one did not show up in the nick of time.

.x.

Some nights before, some comedy show had come on and in a struck of brilliance your brother had suggested pizza. You had gathered up on the living room floor with blankets and soda and chips and turned the lights off as he paid the delivery boy. You stuffed yourself silly and woke up briefly as he carried you to your bed and tucked the blankets in close to you. The dreams you had that night were pleasant and harmless, morning was hours away and for once it felt like that was the case. When you woke, your brother was in the process of cooking breakfast and he smiled when he saw you yawning in the doorway. A long shower and you were pulling your uniform on, leaning your bag up against the couch and joining him for a plate.

You both left at the same time, and as you walked, he told you about his plans for the day. He was to be paid, and he figured some time out having fun wouldn’t hurt the budget too bad. Some new movie had come out and he figured you’d like it, and if you played your cards right you could sneak in some snacks and drinks from the convenience store.

“Theater food is overpriced,” he told you, smiling. “And they don’t have your favorite brand anyway.”

You had not been to the movies in years, and you could hardly remember how the experience had gone. Excitement rose up inside of you, burst across your face in a grin as he ruffled your hair.

The morning sun was gentle, peering from behind pale clouds and painting the town cool and soft. This moment felt so warm in your chest you felt as if nothing could steal it, it stretched out endlessly before you and you knew nothing else. This was your life now, scattered with stars just like a nighttime sky was. And at the center, your brother glowed just like the moon. Steady and reassuring and full.

To be reminded of temporary was the worst fate had done to you, and this would always be the case.

Such was life.

.x.

Your aunt greeted you at the front door with placid eyes and a deep frown. Her home had changed very little. The flower patterns on the drapes, the ticking clock on the wall, the smell of age overcoming her and the perfume she layered over it. She left the plastic crate on the coffee table and made her way into the kitchen to brew some tea. She didn't ask you what happened; no doubt the reason you were sent here was by your brother’s doing.

“They gave me his photo,” she said as she poured you a cup to drink. “I figure you’d put better use to it.”

You spent the night and it was only the smell of clean linens that pulled you to sleep. Again, you were awoken by the smell of breakfast and she was sitting with a small stack of newspapers and magazines.

“The worst thing I can do to you is take away what you already have. But you can’t go back to that apartment. It will only make things worse.” She folded back the newspaper and leaned into her seat. “So we’ll make a deal. You’ll go back to your school and move on with your life. And I’ll help you get by.”

You didn't ask her to soften her tone, or to take pity on you in this moment. Your shoulders sagged at the weight of what happened, body curling in on itself at the gaping hole in your chest. Your nails dug into your palms and you found it hard to breathe.

But you were mildly grateful, she was not looking at you like a broken thing. You were the same little girl that came with too many ghosts, with violets blooming under the clothes, with eyes that looked just like and yet nothing at all like her brother’s.

“You’ll make it through this,” she said, and you had to believe her.

.x.

Tatsuki treated you different now. Not like you’re fragile, but like more things could sink their fingers into you, and this was not far from the truth. She didn't promise to fix you, or to take the pain away, and this was how you knew she had grown.

Impossible was now a word you could both understand.

The new apartment was only a little bigger than the last, and you have your own room, your own bathroom, your own kitchen and living room and windows and sinks. It was a safer area than the last and both your neighbors were small families. You took your time saving money at the end of each month, whatever your aunt spared you. Lasting foodstuffs, simpler furniture, small knickknacks, clothes that fit your ever growing body, and the candles you lit before your brother’s picture frame.

You spent hours after school praying and hours after that apologizing. You told him about your day, about your new friends, how different high school was. You talked until there was nothing left to say, until there was nothing more than the heartbeat in your ears and the blurry smile he was making at you.

To sleep now was to stifle each lingering thought left over, what you had remembered to tell him for the next day and what he’d never hear no matter how hard you tried. You allowed them to consume you in the darkness of your room and to wither away in the morning light.

Tatsuki treated you different now. She showed up at your door with a bag of food and a small smile and sometimes didn't leave until it was pitch black and dangerous outside.

“Nothing can hurt me as much as I can hurt it,” she said, when you voiced your concern.

You wished you could keep this mindset, too.

.x.

At first, he was a means of distraction. Your brother had taught you when you were a child to look at something standing still to keep from falling over, and the boy with the strange colored hair became just that.

Everything was spinning all around you, always, and he was still. The only semblance of normalcy you could grasp onto -- after all, how could you quell these sorts of feelings? How could you stop yourself from having crushes? This was how you remembered you were still human, still just a girl in the grand scheme of things.

You had little contact at the beginning. You hardly recalled him as the one who’d answered the door to your desperate calls, who had relieved you of the crushing weight of the whole world and had watched you with steady, knowing eyes as you received the news.

There were no good rumors about this battered boy. Every bandage came with a story. Every shifting glance a whispered warning. You half believed them at the beginning. The bruised knuckles, the sleepless shadows under his eyes, the way he snarled at the boys who refused to leave him be. It struck an old, familiar fear in you and you didn't ask any questions, at first.

But one day you bumped into him in the hallway and he was all soothing tones, all worried glances down your frame, all sheepish apologies stumbling out of him.

One day you caught him pulling down a book from the top shelf for someone else. One day you found him guiding a spider onto a window ledge, feeding some hungry squirrel his scraps, picking up the fallen, scattered pages for some girl. One day, some days, he was unspeakably, unknowably kind. He treated these acts of kindness as if there were nothing at all. Someone rushed out a thank you and he shrugged.

He always shrugged. As if they meant absolutely nothing at all.

But to you, to someone fractured like you, they were everything in the world.

.x.

“Of all people?” Tatsuki was incredulous, her nose wrinkling as if the very thought filled her with disgust. “Him?”

You toiled with shame, and not because of her reaction. In another life, you would have really liked to simply call him a friend. But these feelings complicated everything. The simplest interactions with him had you reeling, trying not to stumble over yourself. As if to be touched by him, however innocently, however briefly, was to be touched by an angel. It made you wither inside, disappointed with yourself for warping his intentions in that way. But how to help it?

How to make the heart turn the other cheek?

“Well, I guess you could do worse,” she muttered at last, arms folded. “He's not...awful.”

“No?” you asked, as if you needed the assurance. You knew he wasn't awful. He was wonderful, really.

“Never heard a single disrespectful thing leave that boy's mouth, about women.” She tilted her head to one side, then rushed to say, “Oh, he's disrespectful, alright. But only if you have it coming. He'd never treat you like a piece of meat – is what I'm getting at. And he has two little sisters, so you know he'll be protective.”

You smiled. “Your blessing, Tatsuki?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You could do worse. You could also do better, though.”

.x.

Either way, Tatsuki was the bridge that connected you to him. Always facilitating interactions, and shamelessly, covertly, interjecting little hints into your conversations regardless of how panicked you looked. But Ichigo was either obstinate or deaf, for all the good it did.

“Still single?” Tatsuki asked, jabbing her fingers into Ichigo's ribs in such a familiar way it unfortunately made your chest tighten at the sight.

“Stop that,” he snapped at her, pushing her hand away. “Yeah, still single. Same as I was last week and the week before. Quit asking, you freak.”

Even if you no longer saw him as a distraction, something about this fixation managed to pull you from the depths of your grief. You still curled in on yourself when you were alone, still felt as if longing were attempting to claw its way out from your throat in the middle of the night, remembering, remembering – trying not to remember – but it was tempered now with these newest memories.

Ichigo laughing at a misplaced joke of yours, the sound ringing in your ears hours after the fact. Ichigo sparing a quick smile in passing. Ichigo offering to walk you home when he ran into you after school, or handing you the extra soda he'd purchased from the vending machine wordlessly. His tiny acts of kindness he never brought attention to. The one person in the group noticing you didn't bring lunch to school again.

They filled in the empty spaces within you. When you told Sora about your day, these moments poured out of you like water from an open faucet. One day, you found yourself laughing as you recalled Ichigo's grumpy face as his friends dog-piled onto him about nothing, and you caught yourself. The laughter dying in your chest, your eyes wide as you realized that you didn't feel lonely anymore.

That maybe you hadn't in a while now.

You felt tears spilling hot down your cheeks and for once, it was from relief.

.x.

[silverstark]

Fic Completed: Baby's First Diplomatic (Disaster) Dinner

Title: "Baby's First Diplomatic (Disaster) Dinner"

SVSSS; BingQiu; 9,665 words; Rated T; Canon Divergence; (post) Mpreg; Original Baby Character;

Summary:

After the plague at Jinlan City is resolved, the governor hosts a feast to celebrate the city's survival and to thank their saviors. Shen Qingqiu is part of the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect delegation sent to graciously accept the governor's thanks. He brings his daughter, of course: She is too young to be away from her mother for longer than a couple of hours. The Huan Hua Palace Sect delegation brings their own surprise as well as their opinions. -x-x-x- Note: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS for canon-typical story elements.

Read it on Ao3 (Registered Users Only)

[darkurgetrash]

My two Rolan-loving ‘Tavs’, Tavlyn (Lead Me Through the Dark) and Lo (Help! I’m the Main Character!)

Been refining my portrait style for commissions — details will be sorted soon.

[dickfics69]

More Emotion Motion sickness inspo/vibes

This is one of the only prompts for me that doesn’t get blocked so I’m eating it up

I’m also having way too much fun (I need Jesus)

Enjoy and I have many many more 😂

[parasprite]

Benson wasn’t fucking clueless. He knew, by now, that this was more than just a simple fascination with an interesting coworker. But his peace of mind depended upon him ignoring a lot of uncomfortable truths.

Or: 5 moments from Benson and Randy's weird, sad year of working together.

[mypalletshippinglove]

Summary: Ash Ketchum and Gary Oak are happily married now. Their lives couldn't be any happier, however, one day something unexpected happens: Pokémon from all over the world start mysteriously disappearing... something that people refer to as the "Pokémon Rapture." Ash and Gary quickly take matters into their hands, determined to find out what is causing this apocalypse.

-

Hey everyone, I don't know how many people are still active here (it's almost been 2 years, yikes), but I just started rewriting an old fanfic I never posted, in case you read it, I hope you like it and please stay tuned for further updates cuz I promise this will be one hell of an emotional ride :)

[moonclans]

NOBLESSE OBLIGE

Bruce Wayne (The Batman 2022) x Sang-hee Choi (Original Character).

In the summer of 1997, Sang-hee Choi meets Bruce Wayne and the city of Gotham. Years later, when they are no longer children, they begin to unwind the threads that bind them together in both love and dread.

This is a link to a collection of old one-shots and fic snippets part of the unpublished Noblesse Oblige fanfic and dedicated to @malangaleaves, the author. Only registered users on AO3 can access. Please note that this collection contains NSFW material.

AO3.

[medusapelagia]

Serenade

written for @corrodedcoffinfest (Prompt 17: This one's for you) and @astrangersummer (Week 12: Forgotten) Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: none Words: 1000

(So... this entry for the Corroded Coffin Fest and the Steddie week got A LOT of attention and people asked me for a sequel So this can be read as a stand-alone or a sequel of Love at first sight.)

Steve can’t suffocate a whimper when the curtains of his room open unexpectedly and Robin turns toward him with a grin.

“Raise and shine, baby! We have another incredible shift at Target!”

“Fuck you, Robin. I’m sick, I can’t go to work.”

Robin lifts an eyebrow, and points at the glass of water and the Advil pills on Steve’s night table, “Not sick, babe, just in hangover, and given the fact you decided it was a good idea got wasted without me I think that spending your hangover with me dealing with customers is the right punishment.”

Muttering that he feels he’s been punished more than enough, Steve gulps down water and pills, grabs the wrinkled clothes he finds on his chair, and follows Robin into the kitchen, where a warm toast and a cup of coffee are already waiting for him.

“Still hate you, but you’re the best.”

“I know you do, dingus. Now, want to talk about last night?”

Steve tilts his head frowning in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Robin grabs her phone, opens WhatsApp, and plays an audio message in which a really drunk Steve stutters something about having found the man of his dreams.

“I’m going to marry him, Rob! Will you be my bestwoman?” Steve’s drunken voice says.

“So… who’s this mystery man?”

“Who? I have no idea who you are talking about.” Steve shrugs in confusion, “I was obviously drunk. I don’t remember a thing.”

Robin scrutinizes him for a long time before nodding to herself, “Ok, fine. But this is another reason why you’re not allowed to go out drinking without me!” She declares, pouring two glasses of orange juice for both of them.

“What about your date? Is Chrissy everything you were looking for?”

“She is not.” Steve sighs, ready to comfort her when Robin adds, “She’s way better! She is fun! And beautiful! And when she laughs she snorts so adorably… and we’re fucking late! Let’s go!” Robin says, grabbing Steve’s arm and pushing him out of the door while she keeps telling him about the amazing date she had the night before. 

When they get outside the crispy air makes Robin shiver, so she reaches into Steve’s jacket’s pocket to warm herself, but she retreats her hand with a gagging sound, “Didn’t your mom teach you to throw away used tissues?” she asks, making a disgusted face.

Steve frowns and puts his hand in his pocket, retrieving a crumpled napkin with some pen’s shaky signs. He opens the napkin to get a better look and finds a telephone number and a name: Eddie.

“Holy fucking shit! You did meet someone!” Robin grins, “Are you sure you don’t remember him?”

Shaking his head, red with embarrassment, Steve confirms he doesn’t remember anything.

“Ok. Only one thing to do.” Robin grabs Steve’s phone, “Call him.”

“What?! No! What if he’s a psycho? Or if I made a fool out of myself? It’s better to forget about it.”

“Ok.” Robin shrugs, turning her back to Steve who glares at her with suspicion, it's not like her to surrender so easily.

“What…? Robin! No!" He says trying to grab the phone, but she’s already dialing the number, “Robin what the fuck!”

“Hello?” A warm voice replies after a couple of rings.

“Oh… Hey… Eddie? I… I’m Steve.”

“Oh, Stevie.” Someone in the back makes a satiric comment while the man on the phone opens a door and moves somewhere quieter, “Are you feeling better? Did you drink a lot of water like I suggested?”

“I… yeah… I did… but…”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

That word triggers something in Steve's mind, a blurred memory of a group of men wearing leather jackets and talking loudly.

“I… Look… I know this sounds bad but I don’t remember what happened last night and I wanted to apologize if I made a fool out of myself.”

“Oh. Ok. Not what I was expecting, but it’s fine.” The voice sounds disappointed and it makes Steve’s heart ache.

“I’m so sorry…”

“It’s fine. Listen I have to go, the guys and I have a little concert and we’re in the middle of the soundcheck.”

“Oh. Yeah. You signed a big contract, right?”

“So you do remember something.” The man points out, amused, “You know what? Why don’t you come to see us? Tonight, at the HideOut, I promise not to let you drink until we talk.”

“At the HideOut? Tonight?” Robin grabs Steve's arm and points at herself, “Can I bring a friend with me?”

“Sure. See you there.”

When Eddie closes the call and goes back to the stage, Jeff is grinning, “So, is he still in love with you?”

“Don’t think so. He doesn’t remember me.”

“Oh, this sucks.” Gareth says, stopping the cymbals, “So what are you going to do?”

“The only thing anyone in his right mind would do: serenade him in front of a crowd!” Eddie chuckles while he grabs his guitar and adds a new song to their track listing and Freak winks at him.

“Bold choice.”

“I’m not going to chicken out. He said he loved me, right?”

When the doors open it isn't hard for Eddie to spot Steve, who is wearing a bright yellow sweater and stands out like a sore thumb in an ocean of dark jeans and black t-shirts.

They play the single they have just recorded and the crowd explodes, but Eddie’s eyes are pinned on Steve when he announces “Stevie, this one's for you.”

Eddie moves around the stage, getting back to back with Freak while playing, but he gets closer to the audience, searching for Steve's eyes when he sings, “And, want to treasure the rest of your days here, and, give you pleasure in so many ways dear.”

Once the concert ends, Eddie asks to bring Steve backstage and when he sees him, he winks, "I think we're doing things the other way around, but... would you like to go on a date with me?"

[die-schwanenkoenigin]

Dare Me to Tell You the Truth

Ava desperately wants to get Deborah to play Truth or Dare with her. Deborah tries to resist.

[cover art by me]

It's here! My first ever collaboration with another creator as well as my first podfic project!!

Thank you, lovely @wilfriede, for asking me to do the @pod-together event with you! You did such a great job guiding me through the entire process, offering help, answering questions, and providing resources.

I had a blast writing the fic, and I had just as much fun recording it with you. Honestly. Thank you, again, for letting me do this with you. You are an amazing podficcer, and I truly couldn't have asked for a better partner for this. ☺️

To read the fic and/or listen to our podfic, just head on over to our work on AO3 :)

[writingpages]

our fingers entwined

Summary: yusei overhears someone call aki hot and he's a little jealous about it.

Rating: G

Ships: Yusei Fudo/Aki Izayoi

Author’s note: i wrote this instead of focusing on election stress. pure fluff.

read on ao3 / support me on kofi / join my discord (18+)

Yusei had always believed in Aki. From the first time he saw her Duel to now, he'd known what a tough and vicious opponent she could be. He almost felt a little sorry for the person she was currently Dueling. There was nothing but pride on the line, but Aki badly wanted to prove herself. Pride was enough of a motivator to make a Duelist fearsome - he'd seen that when Jack constantly continued to rush into battle as well. And if she won this Duel, she'd qualify for the semifinals, putting her in a good position to enter into the national tournament.

It was strange to think that once he was terrified of her, but then again... apparently he'd once terrified her too. He wondered how he of all people seemed so terrifying to a girl who could split a pier in two. He hadn't bothered to ask at the time and the more he thought about, the more it didn't matter. All that mattered was now, their feelings had been laid bare and he could freely refer to her as his girlfriend. At least, between their friends and family. He didn't care much about his public perception most days. He didn't have much control over that, did he?

He didn't care about it until he overheard a conversation in the stadium - someone mentioning that they found Aki hot, and Yusei's fists balled instantly. He knew that. Anyone with eyes could see she was attractive. He needed to calm down. Other people were going to think that his girlfriend was hot, and he was fine with that. At least until the other person remarked that they wondered if she was single, and he almost interjected in their conversation. He held back, figuring he didn't want to argue with a stranger about how he was so certain that she wasn't single. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked away.

That conversation was probably why after Aki had taken the victory over the tournament, he walked over to her rather than let her come to him. It was why he gently lifted the helmet off her head, smiling at her. "You were incredible out there, Aki," he said softly, reaching to cup her cheek. "I knew you could win."

It was true that her riding duel outfit was rather tight fitting, accentuating all her curves, but admittedly... that was less important to him over the woman that was in the outfit. He leaned over her bike to press a gentle kiss to her lips, and Aki took a moment to respond. But when she did... her arms were thrown around his neck, eagerly kissing him back. No one could deny that she was his with this display, he thought almost triumphantly. When they parted, she was smiling. "I was hoping you were watching, Yusei."

He reached up to brush her bangs out of her face, taking her in. "I wouldn't have been able to stay away," he said softly, shifting the helmet under his arm as he moved to hold his hand out to her. "I had to see my best girl win."

A pretty rose red color splashed across her cheeks at this, fading to a soft pink. He could hear the cameras shuttering, and none of it mattered. All that mattered to him was that she placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her off the bike and into a tight hug as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "So you were impressed with how well I did?"

The pit crew was already taking Aki's bike away, and he nearly made a remark to them about being careful with it. After all, he'd built that thing from scratch for her. He held it back, figuring that it was more important to focus on her victory instead. Besides, he could always inspect it later himself and do any repairs necessary if they really damaged her bike. "Of course I was impressed," he said, his arm around her shoulders as they ignored the journalists in favor of heading inside the stadium away from the din of the crowd. "You were remarkable out there. The control you've gained over the field, the way you handled your bike, your foresight... it was all incredible, Aki."

Aki giggled as she hipchecked him. "You flatter me," she teased, leaning against him. "Any reason you decided to kiss me out there? You don't normally do that. Not that I mind. I just want to know what your motive was so I can ensure it happens again."

Yusei flushed himself now. It seemed a little petty now and he wasn't sure he wanted to admit it. Yet he knew there was no point in trying to hide anything from Aki. "I overheard some of your fans commenting on how hot you were and wondering if you were single," he said as casually he could. "I merely wanted to set the record straight there."

She laughed, shaking her head. "First of all: straight? Where are we straight?" She winked at him, and he swore he felt his cheeks set on fire. "Second of all: if having someone call me hot was all it took to get you to kiss me in front of everyone, maybe you should be in the crowd more often." She then moved to kiss his cheek with a small smirk, wrapping her arm around his waist. "Now. Why don't you take me home, handsome? I'll show you whose girlfriend I am."

And that was something Yusei could get behind.

[silverstark]

Most Devoted (HuaLian fic) Updated

Title: Most Devoted

Rated T; WIP at 9,576 words and 3/? chapters posted

Tags: HuaLian; Temporary Amnesia, Post-Canon; Canon-Compliant

Summary:

Hua Cheng is cursed to forget Xie Lian. Fearing that Hua Cheng will disappear once he no longer remembers his reason for staying, Xie Lian makes a desperate gamble to try to break the curse. (Inspired by VampireFaun’s Hua Cheng amnesia-curse fic,“Thousand Gold Come-And-Go Stew”) - The croupier grinned. "What is it you want?" Xie Lian cleared his throat and thickened his face. There was no way around it. He had to say it out loud. "I want a kiss from Hua Chengzhu," Xie Lian declared.

Read it on Ao3 (Registered Users Only)

[alumbianchronicler]

No Laughing Matter - Part 9

Parts 1-8

Ao3

Part 9

Disclaimer: I have read nothing canon with J'onn in it, and am working from a general impression of him I've gathered through fan-fiction. I apologize for any out-of-characterness.

(tw: blood, general discussion of destruction and murder)

~~~

There was laughter echoing deep in his mind. A cruel, vicious laughter, but laughter nonetheless.

Danny wasn't quite sure whether it was his own or not. Even thoughts he recognized as his own were twisting disconcertingly, making it difficult to find a point of reference within the dream.

If it was a dream.

Was it a dream?

Blood dripped from his fingers, the smell of copper and smoke filling his nostrils. It was a welcome scent. It was a familiar scent.

No... It was a horrifyingly unwelcome scent.

It was... Not. Real.

This was a dream. He was asleep.

Laughter echoed through his mind, and this time, Danny knew some of it was his own. A hysterical, desperate laughter at odds with the ruthless sound around him that echoed with an all-too-familiar phrase:

I am inevitable.

No. This was a dream. It wasn't real. He wouldn't have... he would never... he...

Images of a city in flames flashed through his dream, and for a moment the sound of screams drowned out the laughter.

Danny fell to his knees, blood splashing away in ripples around him, spreading impossibly far in his awareness and disappearing into a vast lake of red and smoke and...

"Child?"

A voice broke through the screams and the laughter both.

The blood rippled around him.

"Phantom."

It was not any voice he expected. It was not Dan's. It was not Clockwork's. It was not even Nocturn's voice. It was a stranger's voice, one he did not recognize...

Danny looked up.

The person standing above him was as green as any ghost, but far more solid, and watched Danny with solemn red eyes. The stranger knelt down on one knee, disregarding the blood in the dream-scape, and held a hand out to the teenager.

"I'm J'onn, the Martian Manhunter, with the Justice League. Do you recognize me?"

Danny stared at the offered hand, slowly nodding. Martian Manhunter... the man... in his brain... was an alien?! Any other time, Danny would be enthusiastically excited by that realization.

He blinked. Laughter echoed, and the mind-scape flickered and filled with a sickeningly painful red haze that smelled like...

"Blood blossom?" he murmured.

J'onn didn't move. "Yes."

Danny reached out halfway, then pulled his hand back with a hiccupped laugh. "I can't. I can't. I killed so many. So many... I'm so sorry. I'm sorry..." Why was he laughing?? This wasn't funny.

I am inevitable.

J'onn reached out and gently caught the young man's hand. The lake of blood drained, leaving rusty stains and a stifling silence.

"You weren't in control of your actions, Phantom."

"Wasn't I? Wasn't I?! Even if I wasn't... I still did all of that." He gestured around him, where visions of smoke and fire and destructions shifted in and out. "Me. Not anyone else."

"You are... afraid of yourself."

"How many people did I kill?"

The Martian was silent for several long moments. "The final count hasn't..."

"How many?!" There was no laughter now.

"The last count was 384, with several hundred still unaccounted for."

The dreamscape trembled, glowing cracks forming at the edges and along the ground, pulsing between ecto-green and blood-blossom red.

"Phantom."

Danny looked up, tears in his eyes, and met J'onn's own red ones. The Martian sighed and squeezed Phantom's hand gently.

"Sometimes we fail those under our protection. Sometimes... we hurt people we did not mean to. You can't let that destroy you."

"YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I'VE DONE!" Danny snarled, pulling his hand back. Behind him, the memories of a timeline lost played out, an older, larger, more malicious version of Phantom laughing as he destroyed a city around him.

J'onn considered the scene for a long moment as Danny stepped back, wrapping bloody arms around himself.

"You have... seen alternative timelines of yourself?"

Danny nodded.

"You are afraid this event will turn you down that path."

Another nod.

"I think... the fact that you are worried about it means that you will not. We can not bring back the dead, but we can help make sure this doesn't happen again, if you'll let us help you." J'onn stood and held out his hand again to the teen.

Danny stared at the offered hand for a long moment, then his shoulders slumped and he stepped forward, eschewing the offered hand to simply lean into the Martian with a quite whimper.

J'onn, surprised, was motionless for a moment, then wrapped his arms around the boy. "I will have to leave your mind soon. You have been experiencing some fever, but we will keep you, and others, safe while you recover."

Danny nodded his understanding, and the dream faded into restless darkness.

~~~

Tim was growing increasingly horrified at the information he was reviewing concerning the Guys In White and the small city of Amity Park.

The whole city was separated from the outside world by long-term government funding. Apparently, a specific pair of scientists had been heavily funded in their early and, if he didn't know better, pseudo-scientific research upon moving to the town.

Honestly, it didn't look like the Drs. Fenton ever made the connection between their funding grants nearly two decades earlier, and the rapid "formation" of the Ghost Investigation Ward within months of the creation of a stable dimensional portal to the Infinite Realms (he had half thought Constantine was going to have an aneurysm when he heard about that).

And that wasn't even getting into the projects and experiments the GIW intended to carry out, themselves.

Apparently, the Anti-Ecto Acts' statement of considering Ecto-entities to be less than plants was no joke, and the experiments outlined in the files Tucker had sent him were bad enough that he had to step away from the computer to help with continuing rescue and rebuilding efforts for a shift before returning.

By the time he had gone through all of the files, he had a presentation ready for the rest of the family, and a loose outline of a plan set in his mind.

[darkurgetrash]

Help! I’m the Main Character!

Read series on AO3 | #HITMC

“They both looked at her like she was off her rocker, and she had to concede that they were probably right. No sane person would truly believe that they’d been isekai’d into a fantasy video game. Certainly not in their pyjamas.”

When Lo found herself suddenly teleported into the world of her favourite game, Baldur’s Gate 3, it seemed that the only solution would be to follow the story she knew so well. / However, with every attempt made to follow canon, Lo finds herself only derailing the game even further. It certainly doesn’t help matters either that Rolan, the Wizard tiefling she’d not bothered to talk to in her playthrough, seems entirely set on thwarting her every decision. / Needless to say… this adventure certainly isn’t giving the ‘main-character energy’ Lo had hoped for.

Rated: E

Read for: romantic comedy, sort-of enemies-to-lovers, chaos incarnated, romantic slow burn, eventual smut

First chapter under the cut.

Chapter One: What is this? An Isekai?

Wordcount: 2324

Lo was no stranger to lucid dreaming, especially when it came to ones about her newest hyperfixations, yet this one felt even more vivid than usual.

Normally, whenever her one-track mind plummeted her into the universe of her current favourite game, ‘Baldur's Gate 3’, it at least had enough decency to make her ‘Tav’ — Strong, magical, athletic… blessed with impossibly voluminous and shiny hair as if Withers was her own personal stylist. Oh, and tits that didn’t bow to the laws of gravity.

But tonight, her brain obviously had… different ideas. Tonight, it had thrust her right at the beginning, straight onto the crashing Nautiloid, but as herself, no less; Not as a seven-foot baddie tiefling with bright pink skin and a mysterious glint in her eye, but as basic bitch, paler than a ghost Charlotte Polly Berry, with weak joints and low muscle mass, a resting heart-rate of 91 BPM, and chronic back pain.

…And she was low-key here for it.

With a big yawn, Lo clambered out of her smashed mind-flayer pod like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon — albeit, a little bit fatigued — and opened her senses to the world around her.

A rancid stench filled the air, so revolting and putrid that she gagged, and even the taste of bile rising in her throat felt incredibly realistic. Shit, even as her shoeless feet squelched across the ridged, gore-filled floor, she couldn’t help but feel proud of the power of her mind. If only she could have that much mental power in daily life, she’d have already girlbossed her way into a pay rise without even breaking a sweat.

Though, as she looked down at herself, she found herself again wishing it had been a bit more creative than to mould her in the same pyjamas she wore that night: an old t-shirt with a faded Hello Kitty on the front, grey sweatpants, stripy socks, and an oversized hot-pink teddy-bear cardigan.

Couldn’t it at least have conjured her some badass armour? Or given her elf ears? Aasimar wings? She jumped in the air experimentally, wondering if she might start flying, yet gravity pulled her heavily back down with an unceremonious thunk.

Ugh. Not that lucid, then.

With a huff, she ran her fingers through the length of her messy ponytail, the grease unmistakable. If that was the case, she thought, then she probably also… mm, yep. She still had star-shaped blemish stickers dotting her face too.

She couldn’t help but laugh, thinking of how ridiculously she stood out against the Nautiloid. At least where that was concerned, her brain had conjured every detail to perfection, from the bubbling acid pool in the centre of the room to the dead mind flayer sprawled on the ground, and even the scorching heat radiating from the flames pouring through the cracks in the floor.

She wondered if plunging her hand into the acid would hurt, considering how realistic it all felt, though decided that she didn’t want to risk it. It might wake her up, and she rather enjoyed the idea of exploring the Nautiloid in such a lucid state, even as uncomfortable and high-key over-stimulating as it all was. Besides, she had to physically go back to the office the next day, and anything felt preferable to that — even an icky alien ship plummeting through literal hell. Actually, come to think of it, even that didn’t seem all that different to the London Underground’s Central Line at rush hour.

The more she thought about the ship as an extension of her subconscious’ feelings about London, the more it all made sense. Take the dead mind flayer, for example… Was it really all that different to a seafood vendor with hanging squids in its window?… if those squids were around seven feet tall and dressed in purple armour?

Uh-huh, she thought not!

With the illithid body calling to her — the loot goblin that she was — she walked towards it and knelt down, grinning at how detailed it was as she rifled through its armour, picking up the onyx that she remembered was there. It glistened with reflections of the surrounding flames as she held it up, twirling it this way and that.

Impressive, she thought. Like playing the game on real world graphics.

“…Poggers.” She ironically chuckled aloud to herself, slipping the gem into the pocket of her sweatpants before running a finger over the mind flayer’s brow. Mm. Slimy.

Well, she thought, striding confidently forwards. If her mind was insistent on being so vivid, she planned to take full advantage! Starting, of course, with venturing across the ship and meeting the first two companions of the game. What would they think of her? Would it just be the same reaction as they’d had to her Tav, or would her dream allow her to… spice things up a bit?

Yet, as she reached where her favourite green goblin’s cutscene usually triggered… nothing happened. She frowned, looking around expectantly, but it seemed to be that her would-be ambusher had failed to load.

“Wow, thanks brain,” she sighed, folding her arms. “Why have a hot githyanki girlfriend when I could just revel in alien juices—”

The ship violently shook and Lo suddenly fell to her knees, grimacing as she felt the sting of where the jagged floor cut her, a red patch quickly spreading across the knee of her trackies.

“Ow, Jesus Christ!—” she swore, sitting back and rolling up the legs of her sweats, eyes widening at the sight of blood beginning to gush from her kneecap.

So her subconscious mind had decided to remember her anaemia too?!

It hurt. Like, really hurt! Though, she supposed it made sense. If things were going to be realistic, it was only right that she’d have injured herself falling over in this universe. She’d always joked that any self-insert into the game wouldn’t have made it out of the tutorial, after all. Either that, or she’d have been part of the goblin camp. Or a dog.

Then, just as suddenly as before, the ship convulsed again, and her surroundings changed in an instant — No longer the stormy red fires of Avernus, but now the starry skies of Faerûn, and the ship was plummeting; crashing!

Her heart raced, pounding inside of her like a jackhammer, the threat of imminent death suddenly all too real, and she’d had enough, she wanted to wake up!

“Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up!” She urged herself, shaking her head, just before her body involuntarily lurched forward, the floor disappearing beneath her, and she was falling, fast — the air wrapping around her so violently that she couldn’t even scream, could barely even breathe! It all felt so real, so horribly real, yet it was impossible, wasn’t it? She didn’t believe in magic, didn’t know if she believed in alternative universes, and she didn’t even like those stupid shows and films like ‘Sword Art Online’, ‘The Wizard of Oz’, or ‘Alice in Wonderland’. Christ, even that BBC TV series from the 2000’s about the woman who swapped places with Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice was only worth being considered a guilty pleasure…

A sharp pain suddenly erupted in the side of her head, her vision darkening as debris fell all around her…

And then all was black.

── *(¬_¬)* ──

“Hells, are you alright?!”

Ugh… five more minutes…

“Leave her, Lia. She’s a lost cause.”

“Oh shut up and use your eyes — look, her chest is moving.”

“Zurgan! We don’t have time for this! Cal is waiting for us.”

I don’t want to work today. Or any day… Can’t I just sleep?…

“Give me a healing potion.”

“I am not wasting a precious resource on some human we don’t even know, especially not one who is clearly mentally disturbed — look at what she’s wearing—”

“Now, Rolan!”

Christ on a bike. Who is shouting outside?! Honestly, some people have no respect, it’s too early. Wait, is it bin day? Ah crap, but she’d forgotten to take the recycling out…

“You’re insufferable.”

In the next moment, a boiling sensation suddenly filled Lo’s stomach, a thick syrup-like liquid pouring down her throat. Then, with a gasp, she opened her eyes.

“The fuck?—” She exclaimed, as a horrible and tight tingle reverberated through her body like the flu jab on steroids. Above her, orange glowing eyes against black sclera investigated her face, and she recognised them — a tiefling, one of the refugees in the Grove…

“Don’t move,” the tiefling instructed, moving her finger across her face so that Lo’s eyes followed it. She had a throbbing pain in her head, aches all over her body like she’d been in the centre of a mosh pit. Mothertrucker dude, it hurt like a buttcheek on a stick.

“What’s going on….” She murmured, clarity beginning to settle over her and, with it, a panicked recollection. She’d been falling from the Nautiloid, but it had been a dream, a nightmare — was she still asleep? But there was no way; birds chirped too loudly, the pain of her body too present, the air all too cold…

“She’s alright,” the tiefling said, standing up and offering a hand out. Behind her, another tiefling stood with a sour face and folded arms — that tall one… he was her brother, wasn’t he? Yes, that was right. They were the siblings she had advised to leave the Grove and head to Baldur’s Gate… What were their names, again?

“Honestly,” he said, his voice a low lisp. “We’ll never make it to Baldur’s Gate if you insist on helping every wounded person we come across.”

He glared at Lo, his yellow eyes boring into her with obvious irritation.

“You owe me a healing potion.”

“I owe you what?!” Lo spat, sitting up so quickly that she felt dizzy, her hand raising to her head to steady herself, and — shit, it was bloody… And her clothes were bloody. And her body groaned with ache. And she felt tired, really bloody tired. And…

Oh… oh no…

“Don’t be an idiot, Rolan. She’s obviously just been through something horrible, we have to help her back to the Grove! The Druids will know what to do.”

This… was real.

“Oh yes, because the Druid’s have been so helpful and welcoming—”

“OK, NOBODY PANIC!” Lo blurted, harshly taking the sister’s hand and stumbling to her feet. Her joints creaked, her muscles throbbed, and her heart pounded inside of her chest like the worst drum and bass song she’d ever heard. But, then again, a five-minute walk on the treadmill usually yielded the same results. She needed to chill, just… just gooo with the flooow…

“Druids, right, yes, the druids,” she said, hitting her fist against her palm as began pacing. “That’s a good idea. I’ll talk to … to…”

Shit. If this was like the game, Halsin wouldn’t be there, and it’s probably not like he would have been able to help anyway. And, oh yes, another matter! If this all was for real real, where were her companions? They needed her. Or… that is, they needed Tav. Was Tav in the game?! Was she Tav?! Did she have a tadpole inside of her brain?!

Her mind was reeling, trying to come up with some semblance of a plan or explanation, but it failed at every hurdle. She could feel the tiefling’s eyes on her, and she knew she had to act cool or risk being stabbed, probably.

Yeah… It would be fiiineee. She knew what to do, she knew how to progress! She just needed to take things one step at a time…

“Hey…” the sister said, softly. She tentatively reached out, placing her hand on Lo’s shoulder. “Come on, we’ll take you to a proper healer.”

“Ahaha, bet, a healer. I’m sure that will definitely help, I’m sure she won’t try to poison me or anything sus like that.” Lo babbled, taking an unsteady step forward past the tieflings, ready to move toward the Grove when she realised…

Real life doesn’t have a mini map.

She took a deep breath and turned back to the siblings, forcing a friendly and most definitely trustworthy smile. They both looked at her like she was off her rocker, and she had to concede that they were probably right. No sane person would truly believe that they’d been isekai’d into a fantasy video game. Certainly not in their pyjamas.

“Lead the way, then…” she said, readjusting her ponytail, trying not to think of the gore and viscera that probably stained her light brown hair, the fact that she was a gremlin girl with no survival skills thrust into the most dangerous world she could imagine, or the fact that Faerûn lacked modern plumbing.

“Of— of course!” The sister mumbled, glancing at her brother almost apologetically, though definitely with some slight amusement. “I’m Lia, by the way, and this is Rolan.”

“Lo,” she said, her voice forcefully bright. “I like naps, piña coladas, and getting caught in the rain.”

“Oh, ha, cool…” Lia replied, her amusement definitely growing in fervour. “I like cheese, hitting things with my sword, and not dying.”

“Zurgan—” Rolan snarled exasperatedly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He groaned even further as he walked past the giggling women, granting them a wide berth as if they carried the plague.

“Don’t encourage the lunatic!” He grumbled, just as Lia caught up to his side, Lo following behind. “You do realise, I hope, that we now have an insane person under our responsibility? All because you wanted to play the hero.”

“Better than playing the arsehole, you should try it some time.” His sister smirked back.

“You know just as well as I do that she’d probably have been better off dead.”

As Lo grew pink, her breath ragged as she struggled to keep pace… she couldn’t help but slightly agree.

Oh well, she shrugged.

It is what it is…