#I AM TALLER THAN I’VE KNOWN MYSELF TO BE.

[eternalstateofoctober]

GIGANTIC NEWS EVERYONE. HUGE. MONUMENTAL.

[calliesmemes]

ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED QUOTES FROM TUMBLR TEXTPOSTS, X (formerly known as twitter) POSTS, TIKTOK, MEMES, AND OTHER SOURCES AROUND THE INTERNET

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   Currently considering becoming a bother and a nuisance, maybe even a menace or a rascal. ”

“   Hungry? Eat the government. ”

“   Yes, I wanna fuck after every argument. ”

“   Silence, you uneducated peanut! ”

“  They should invent a being alive that isn’t so difficult. ”

“   Women have to think I’m hot or none of this matters. ”

“   Due to personal reasons I will be named an enemy of the state. ”

“   Being overdressed is a myth made up by people who didn’t want you to have fun and be sexy. ”

“   What even are daddy issues? Just traumatize your father back. ”

“   I LOVE complaining! You can’t take that away from me! ”

“   I went to the silly goose convention and they all knew you. ”

“   I’m simultaneously ‘I’m tired of this grandpa’ and ‘that’s too damn bad!’ ”

“   The word ew coming out of a pretty girl’s mouth holds so much power … I think that it can tear apart nations. ”

“   Someone made fun of my shoes and the whole time I just thought of ways to push them out the window. ”

“   If you’re short, simply get taller. ”

“   I better think twice? Buddy I don’t even think once. ”

“   My off putting looks, awkward demeanor, and strange behavior have captivated you. ”

“   There’s something deeply, fundamentally wrong with you. Can we kiss? ”

“   You are a fool. When you walk, clown music plays. ”

“   I mean yeah he’s evil and all but what if I were his favorite? ”

“   I really do hate thinking. ”

“   In my defense, I simply do not vibe with the law. ”

“   I’ve done nothing wrong. Except all the atrocities. Besides that, I’m innocent. ”

“   Sorry I couldn’t hear you over my internal monologue. ”

“   Of course you have white hair and trauma. ”

“   So apparently the bad vibes I’ve been feeling are actually ‘severe psychological distress’. ”

“   Stop calling me a bad person just because I’m orchestrating your downfall! ”

“   The more lip gloss I collect the longer I live. ”

“   Sorry that I am obsessed with you in the unhealthiest way possible. As if it's my fault ”

“   The multiple failed assassination attempts against me have helped build both character and self esteem. ”

“   I could be your loser boyfriend. Do you ever think about that? ”

“   Accidentally went and got myself killed yesterday, but god wont let me die so I’m back ”

“   What do you mean napping isn't a good coping mechanism? What do you mean my problems are still here? ”

“   Academic validation is required for my sanity. ”

“   RIP to everyone killed by the gods for hubris but I’m different and better. Maybe even better than the gods. ”

“   Researching the stages of grief to see if I can get them finished in ten minutes tops. ”

“   My parents were like I’m gonna make a child that is so beyond help. ”

“   It’s not easy to admit when you’re wrong, and that’s why I won’t do it. ”

“   Why can’t this family ever have a funky good time? ”

“   How do I show people that I’m more than my unethical career choice? ”

“   I fucked my way into this mess, and I’ll fuck my way out. ”

“   You look so biteable today. ”

“   Why am I suffering? I have so many correct opinions and takes. ”

“   I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST THAT I CANNOT GO BACK TO! anyways ”

“   Challenging authority, angering gods. The family business. ”

“   Third base is me telling you about my father. ”

“   Hey girl. Plagued by terrifying visions? ”

“   Got caught giving a fuck. Embarrassing. ”

“   I didn’t ‘miss’ the red flags; I saw them and thought that they looked sexy. ”

“   Do my dark circles and deteriorating health make me look hot? ”

“   I get my news from the only reliable source, cryptic symbolism in my dreams. ”

“   Another day of being a bisexual disaster. ”

“   I’m going to let myself be a little unhinged today, as a treat. ”

“   Some of you act like murder is such a big deal. ”

“   You wanna hunt me for sport so bad that it makes you look stupid. ”

“   You’re not a girlboss unless you’ve killed someone. ”

“   It’s so weird how no one ever has correct opinions about things except for me. ”

“   Hello, my love — I mean, my rival ”

“   No one is calling me baby and it’s outrageous I can’t believe it. ”

“   No talking stage. Mutual obsession and you see god in my eyes or nothing. ”

“   I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOOKUP CULTURE DIE IN MY ARMS ”

“   Yes baby your emotional walls are high and impenetrable can we kiss now? ”

“   Affection is disgusting. Drown me in it. ”

“   I am gatekeeping my respect from you. ”

“   Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. ”

“   I am equal parts fuck around and find out and please don’t yell at me I’ll cry. ”

“   Short legs, big butt. I’m a corgi. ”

“   Fuck being the bigger person; I’m going to start biting people. ”

“   Well that wasn’t very slay of you! ”

“   May I please get a crumb of affection? ”

“   I crave power! Please don’t yell, though; I’m sensitive. ”

“   You call it a near death experience; I call it a vibe check from God. ”

“   Here are some scissors. Now cut it out. ”

“   Might commit a little tomfoolery, maybe even some shenanigans. ”

“   All these flavors, and you choose to be salty. ”

“   How can I live, laugh, love in these conditions? ”

“   What if I said ‘to be honest’ but then lied? ”

“   I'm financially at a stage where I understand why people do fraud. ”

“   Yes I may be evil and morally corrupt, but I’m also incredibly beautiful and I think that makes up for it honestly. ”

“   Debates are stupid. Why would I want to sit down and argue with someone blatantly dumber than me? ”

“   I forget but I do NOT forgive.. I'm just walking around hating bitches can't remember why ”

“   Ding dong your opinion is wrong! ”

“   I’m coming for your kneecaps. ”

“   You dropped your nose you fucking clown. ”

“   Are you a fire alarm? ‘Cause you are really fucking loud and annoying. ”

“   Call me an escalator, because I let people down. ”

“   I love me a good lesbian scandal! ”

“   If you can’t run away from your problems, you’re not running fast enough. ”

“   Everything I want to do is illegal. ”

“   Don’t make me hit your ankle with my Barbie scooter! ”

“   I tell gay jokes because I am a gay joke. ”

“   Fuck! I dropped my mental stability! ”

[justjams2003]

The Desire to be Loved: 2

Summary: Love is Desire's first creation. As Cupid she shoots her arrows of love and rips them from people's hearts too. Occasionally, shooting a soulmate arrow. What does she do when her first Soulmate arrow in 100 years is between Cupid and Dream?

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x OFC Love/Cupid/Venus (you know how these beings have millions of names) (Also technically it could be an x reader because love is sort of anthropomorphic but in this story a she)

Warnings: Manipulation, threats, crying, cliffhanger, unedited, kind of like enemies to lovers, soulmate au, cursing, tell me if I miss any

Word count: 1,8k+

Dividers by: @hyelita

Tags: intothesoul

Masterlist

(I've moved the next part to the bottom)

What a cruel but beautiful creature. To look at me with such entrancing brown eyes that makes something warm flutter in my gut but leave me here. Her aura is that of a setting sun, but her hair is like that of the sun itself. A dear shocked by the presence of a different creature in her woods. Or perhaps shock that I could see her?  

But with the beauty she carries is also something vicious. Another immortal creature who seems to have some recognition behind those doe eyes. And yet knowing who I am and what importance I hold for the mortal world she leaves me here. Without a single second thought she disappeared into a different realm.  

I do not know who she is. Or rather what it is. The human’s son who captured me could not see her. He looked at me with utter confusion, but that is saying so little since they always look at me with fear of the unknown. As they should.  

Clearly something supernatural, but not something powerful enough for me to have known of them before. But in my 50 more years of confinement in this my glass prison I couldn’t help but keep myself busy with the thought of her.  

One of these days, almost on cue, that perfect pink aura suddenly appears in front of the glass bulb. She looks dishevelled. Her braid is messy, several front pieces have fallen out and covers her face. Where last time she wore shoes that made her quite a bit taller than the human Alex. Now, just a few inches.  

But more than that there’s blood all over her hands. Her eyes look glassy with tears but are wide with fear and shock. She’s down on her knees on front of this cage. A shudder pours through her body. Air doesn’t seem to making it into her lungs. Does she have to breathe or is the shock shaking her soul?  

She looks up at me and this seems to make it worse. The dam breaks and tears roll off her cheek. Her chest heaves as she tries to breathe. “I-I-” She mutters trying to comprehend and it seems as if she knows even less than I do now. “I don’t know what I did.” Her voice is just barely above a whisper.  

“He-he said I had to.” She mutters over and over, who is this he? What did she have to do? I wish this damn barrier wasn’t here so that I could see what is this situation. “And-and- I was so mad at him for making me-” another bout of tears overcomes her.  

She then stops and looks at her hands again. “Look at what I’ve done.” I can see how her mind is starting to break.  

That can’t be good. She must play some role in this the human world. Even if only slightly important, it could very well be the beginning or end of this earth. Should I care? Of course I should care. I was made by the first humans subconscious to help the humans. I can’t let all that effort go to waist now...  

But how could I help now? Stripped from all power, locked up and unable to be heard in this glass bubble of mine. I do all that I can think of. My hand slowly slides over the glass to where she sits kneeling in front of me.  

My movement catches her eye almost instantly. Her head snaps up, her ragged breathing stops. Her eyes seem to twinkle like gold dug up from deep in the core of the earth. Time seems to stop and I just can’t seem to understand what is going on. Is she a siren or witch of some sort? Putting a spell on me?  

Her hand, smaller than mine, reaches up and touches the glass where mine is. The blood smears against the glass into a red aura around her hand. The glass makes her fuzzy. Like a halo of red surrounding her as if she’s one of the angles.  

“What the fuck?!” One of the guards exclaim, interrupting this stopped moment in time. This moment, a red haze of ardency. From the human’s point of view, Dream of the Endless somehow just spawned a bloody handprint on the outside of his glass cage.  

The guard stands up from his seat, pistol in hand. “What the fuck did you just do? How the fuck did you just do that?” He says, his pistol raised at the cage. To the humans this seems entirely impossible. Some sort of witchcraft that they fear with their soul.  

The creature who has taken all wisdom from me’s head snaps in a neck-aching turn. Her breathing becomes rapid again after just having calmed her down. She sees the way he approaches my cage and then she turns to me again. “I have to go again. I don’t want him to find out about this this time.”  

With that, she’s gone again.  

For the next 14600 days I could not be there when sun would set and the dreamers were supposed to enter my realm. My dreamers would instead be either stuck awake forever or asleep forever. 40 years of restless, dreamless sleep all because of the Burgess’s. 

I had seen with my own eyes how Alex killed his father by accident or not after a fight about my confinement. He had begged just as his father had. Not for the same thing, but in the same breath for fear of Death. My sister shouldn’t be feared but perhaps he worries about how I might inact my revenge.  

He grows old now, I’m sure, but he has not come to beg again. Humans become frail with age. All entertainment I have is my mind and my plots. Vengeance swirls around in my mind. That and guilt. Guilt of Lucien having to run the Dreaming in my absence. And all of those Dreamers doomed.  

My days and nights are one. I only know the difference from the change of guards. I can’t help but watch their lazy lives. Having to sit and watch me all day. They chit chat of their lives all while the years pass by in front of me. No interruption. No difference.  

And then, there she is again. One second an empty space covered in sand and the next, a dishevelled creature. No heels this time. A pair of these “sweatpants” as I’ve heard the mortals call it. Her hair is no longer in a braid. Golden silk in long mixed wavy and straight hangs on the floor.  

Her eyes are red and look dry and irritated. She appeared standing, but not for long. Her legs seem to give in on her. She sits down on the floor. She pulls her legs up to her chest and just hides her head. I move closer to the edge of my cage. I can see it puts the guards on edge.  

She slowly lifts her head again and rest her chin on her knees. Then suddenly a quiver, assumingly her quiver, appears strapped to her back. She pulls out a single arrow, the only arrow in this quiver. It has a red heart at the very tip. She seems to be inspecting it carefully.  

The creature seems to give a dry scoff. “This is the only soulmate arrow I’ve received in over 100 years.” She twirls it in her fingers and then suddenly it all begins to make sense. A soulmate arrow? And she has them ready to shoot? The humans have so many names for her. Cupid, Venus, Aphrodite, Freya. But I do remember Desire naming her Love.  

Her head falls back on her knees. “I feel so tired...” Her eyes seem to droop. The pink aura she had before is completely gone. The golden sparkle in her eyes is dead. She closes her eyes for a second and lets out a heavy hearted sigh. All soul seems to have left her.  

Then her eyes open again. Again her dead eyes drag over the arrow. “I fear the day I found you here because it has only caused my demise. If I didn't let my own mind wander into the realms of desire and curiosity I would not be weak as I am now. He calls himself Desire but he and his twin are one in the same because now Despair is all I know.” The words begin spilling out of her from a speed unparalled.  

“Something above him, maybe even you, is punishing me for doing as I am told and I cannot take it any longer. All I've done this last century is rip the love from people's hearts. I fear I might have lost the ability to knock an arrow in my bow because I can't even remember how to grant love. Only how to take it.” 

“My soul is kind, I promise.” Her eyes look up at me, her brows pulling together in the middle as if she’s pleading for me to believe her. “If I was not kind I would not be in the state I am in, right?” Again she begs. What for I’m not sure? I do not know of any sins. Could Love ever even be able of causing harm? Is she able of concocting the concept of harming others?  

“There's no love left on this earth. Only this shell Desire has made me and therefore I don't want to live with myself anymore. Him unmaking me would be easier to stand than the hurt I have caused.” It looks painful when she starts to stand up.  

The way she walks, it looks almost deliberate when the salt under her shoes breaks the several circles surrounding my cage. It’s confirmed when she looks back at the now broken salt circles and looks satisfied by this. Then her eyes look back at me.  

The world looks so heavy on her shoulders. Like her head weighs too much for her neck. Her hand comes up on my glass confinement. She steadies herself and then she tells me what sounds like final words: “I will not beg for your forgiveness for not freeing you sooner.”

Her eyes land once more on the arrow glowing in her hand. She takes a big gulp, then she seems to make time stop again. “If you must kill me, I will beg you do it before Desire punishes me.” With what seems like her last bit of energy, life force, she raises her arrow and stabs the glass.  

A large crack breaks through this glass bubble. But she stops before she can repeat the action. Her eyes raise as if she’s listening to something from above. “It seems he was watching me.” Her dried body takes a step back but I catch her before she leaves me once more.  

“Thank you, Cupid. I will find you.”  

If you want to be added or removed from the taglist, just ask!

Part 1~Part 3

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 21

Hey so remember when I said there were gonna be more pics based off of Val’s work? Oops, it looks like that is immediately.

As expected, going to link the fic once again, years of commission work on twitter and being a fairy tail fan has made me excellent shill. 

Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed Featured in the fic is a very cute idea that Junko would get a Tiara for Mikan, to match with the giant crown she’s known for in the main games. And like, you’re probably getting a decent idea for how my brain works, you shouldn’t be surprised that I was immediately obsessed with that idea and had to draw it. And don’t worry folks cause you ARE gonna see that Tiara again. Rest assured. 

This pic is also notable because as far as i’m aware this is one of the only times I’ve ever made an active attempt to detail Junko’s bear clips during the entire project. Why is that? I don’t remember, like it’s been so long since I drew this one that I have no idea why I decided randomly to try. I don’t normally detail them mostly because I just have a limit to how meticulous I can be  without giving myself a headache. I have Junko and Mikan memorized at this point, I don’t need to look up references when I’m drawing them anymore, that’s how fargone I am. That said I’ve memorized how to draw them my way, so Junko’s bear clips are just silhouettes, her shirt is missing some of it’s detail, and it’s kind of 50/50 whether I put the red cross on Mikan’s apron. Other stuff too of course.

And don’t get me fucking started on Mikan’s beauty mark, I generally try to remember to draw it on her. But I’m sure you can go back and see every time I forgot to draw it in these early pieces. Even the ones I finished the day of me scheduling these posts. 

Last fun note I have for this pic (wow surprisingly packed) is that I had to mess around with it beyond simple cleanup, because originally Junko was, like, significantly larger than Mikan. Like not in a “Oh she’s taller than her” kind of way no I just straight up made her head way too big compared to Mikan’s. Hell I’m not even 100% sure I fixed it properly.

[fernclans]

MOON 05. (part 2) (tw; none i think!)

Starring: Cliffpaw (BuddingClan), Flippaw (BuddingClan), Amberpaw (BuddingClan), Dashpaw (BuddingClan) Mentions: Magpiestar (FlintClan)

“May all cats of BuddingClan gather beneath the Echoed Stones for a clan meeting!” A ginger feline called before leaping, landing unsteadily at first atop their clan's gathering place; a set of three stone pillars, one taller than the others, where the leader, deputy, and head mediator would sit once upon a time.

“UGH- finally!” A small rosy brown molly bemoans loudly as she bounds around the grassy slope beneath, claws catching dirt between them.

Another cat strides forward, rolling his eyes when he sits. “You don’t have to say the whole thing every time, y’know Cliffpaw? It’s just the four of us.” Dashpaw teases, shooting the other tom a playful wink to show he’s not being serious.

“It’s better than us completely abandoning the traditions our clanmates died fighting to protect.” Amberpaw sneers, not picking up on the toms’ lightheartedness.

The half-white tom’s cheeky expression dissipates into a flat one of disappointment. “You don’t have to suck the air out of every situation, Amberpaw. Lighten up will you?”

“Could you two wait until after my ceremony to argue?” Flipkit complains, shooting both of them an exasperated look and sparing Cliffpaw from having to break things up himself. Both felines seemed startled at the younger cat's comment, both reacting with their own levels of embarrassment and apologies. 

Cliffpaw clears his throat one more time, dipping his head to Flipkit in appreciation.

“Flipkit, you have reached the age of six moons and are ready to begin your training as a warrior of BuddingClan. From today forward, you will be known as Flippaw; while I can’t act as a proper mentor for you, we will all work together to complete our training as a clan.”

“I won’t let you down!” Flippaw meows back enthusiastically while Dashpaw and Amberpaw call her new name in celebration.

The cheering subsided and the three apprentices looked to Cliffpaw expectantly; there was still one more ceremony which needed to take place. His own.

For once, the confident tom looked uncertain, his remaining yellow eye concentrating down on his paws. “I, Cliffpaw, feel as though I’ve completed my training and that I am ready to take the full responsibility of BuddingClan’s first full warrior.” Not that he hadn’t done so already moons prior. “Though, to be honest, I’m not sure what I should call myself. Since I was a kit I always imagined Magpiestar being the one to do it, I hardly spared the thought of thinking of what I would want it to be.”

“You could just skip a step and call yourself Cliffstar.” Dashpaw meows jokingly.

Cliffpaw grimaces. “Even if StarClan didn’t smite me for that, I’m not sure I feel ready to call myself leader- not in that way.” He was a leader, but he didn’t feel quite like he could be the leader. "Besides, I haven't even trained an apprentice yet."

“How about Clifftalon? Or Cliffsnarl? Something cool and intimidating!” Flippaw chirps, eyes shining.

Amberpaw chuckles beside her. “Do you think Cliffpaw is intimidating?”

“Do you think Cliffpaw is cool?” Dashpaw jeers.

“Well I don’t, but other cats might.” The youngest of the four explains.

“Hey--! Come on!” Cliffpaw perches on the edge of the stone, tail swishing behind him. His vision spins slightly as he looks between his clanmates, claws sinking into the stone and moss for stability.

“Right, sorry.” Amberpaw shakes her head, looking up at him and taking notice of his unsteady state. “Do you want to get down? Dashpaw’s right, it is just the four of us…”

Cliffpaw shakes his head, regaining his former posture. “No, not until we settle my name.”

“What about Cliffstone?” Dashpaw meows, almost seeming sincere before following it up. “Because once you’ve set your mind on something, you’re as stubborn as one.”

Cliffpaw begins to grow frustrated. “I’m not that stubborn.”

“Yes you are! Only a cat as stubborn as you would make it back home with that kind of an injury still fresh.”

“Dashpaw kind of has a point.” Flippaw interjects. "He would've let CypressClan take care of him until they forced him to leave." All but Dashpaw laugh, the brown and white tabby tom feigning offense for dramatic effect. The moment subsides, leaving them back to where they'd began.

Amberpaw hums thoughtfully. “How about instead of stubborn, we can say reliable? Even after you were gone for days, we were sure you were coming back.”

Cliffpaw seems taken by surprise, a warmth filling his chest. “How sure?”

“As sure as the stripes on your back.” She smiles.

Cliffpaw goes silent, tapping his tail rhythmically against the pillar while in thought. “...how about Cliffstripe?” 

“‘Cliffstripe’?” Flippaw echoed. “Isn’t that a little… basic? Come on, Cliffpaw! You fought a WOLF for StarClan’s sake!”

The dark ginger tomcat bristles somewhat, forcing his fur to go flat before replying. “We lost everything to those monsters- I won't give them my name too.”

Silence again fills the grassy slope, all cats feeling heavy under the weight of the past five moons. It's Amberpaw who breaks the silence again. “So, Cliffstripe, right? I like it.”

Dashpaw speaks next. “Yeah, it suits you.”

“Mm. It’s fine.” Flippaw pouts, just hoping that her suffix will be different.

Cliffstripe gives a weary smile, slowly easing his way onto the soft ground. He brushes against each of his clanmates, a deep purr rumbling in his throat while they depart.

[star-neo-love]

lover in my dreams

don't mind the tags, this was included in the terms of my bet😔 this is just some random ranty writing I did, not my usual sturniolo content ik, and I'm gonna take it down soon, BUT I needed to prove a point to my friend 🙏anything to win a bet ONGGGG🙏 also, if you guys like this for some reason, check out my actual blog for this kind of stuff!! @solarstorm-heart

Do you believe that those strangely meaningful dreams are glimpses of our past lives?

I, for one, hope it's true, for it would mean that some version of me in the past held you, and was held by you in turn. It would mean I loved you as you loved me. It would mean I was happy, at least once.

I had a dream last night that you were my lover. We were with others, we were alone, we were apart, we were together. We were happy. We fought. We made up. We loved one another as though we were each other's sun.

I don't know your name, I don't know your voice. I don't even remember your face. Every single identifying detail of you faded with the last clinging vestiges of sleep as I awoke.

And I am left consumed by the ache of a lost love that never existed, bereft and desperately grasping at false wisps of imagination.

But I remember how you felt, how you held me, how you laughed. I remember how I loved you and how you made me feel as though my chest was given wings to fly to you. I remember how we shifted toward each other unconsciously whenever we were together, like magnets - or perhaps more like taffy, melted together and refusing to be seperated, sticky and sweet. I remember how I was drawn to you inexplicably the first time I saw you. I remember how your name always tasted perfect on my tongue and lips, like my favourite candy.

I remember the tiny details, the habits you had, the way you liked your coffee, the way you loved the sunlight filtering in through thin white curtains, the way your grin was always just slightly lop-sided, the way you could never be serious unless you were mad, the way your arms felt around me, the way you always sat on my right, the way you brightened up when I walked into the room, the way you ran cool but still warmed my life, the way everyone who knew you loved you a little, and the way you made me glow.

Most important of all, I think, I remember you.

I don't remember your appearance, nothing that helps me envision anything in my mind beyond a rough shape [taller than me, slightly broader, radiant] but I remember everything about you that made me fall in love. I remember how you were so much like me and yet my complete opposite. I know everything about you, better than I’ve ever known anyone, even myself.

You are nothing but a figment of my imagination, a figure in my dream whom I will never meet. But I loved you. I love you. And I suspect I will keep loving you until you fade with the remnants of my failing memory.

I can only hope with all I am that you will embrace me each night as I fall into the abyss of sleep, and grant me that brief solace of warmth and joy. Love me. I beg of you.

Please allow me to love in return, my faceless darling.

anyways yeah, hope you enjoyed, I wrote this all in like ten minutes in a craze because I woke up from a beautiful dream lonely and hurting over an imaginary man 😔😔i need a bf man...

[sugudoe]

hi there cutie i hope you’re well! i was hoping i could get a jjk match-up? PRETTY PLEASE AND THANK YOU ❤️

- i’m pretty short, 155cm 🫣 and on the curvier side. i like to wear heels for this reason lmaoo

- i’ve always wanted to be one of those mysterious girlies who have an intense aura and makes others wonder what’s going on inside their head, but i’m too loud, bubbly and expressive to be anything like that 😔

- i’m not a shy person by any means, i love meeting new people and making friends always came easy to me. i can talk someone’s ear off about any and everything, even i’ve only known them for 5 minutes 😭 i’d like to be more reserved in that sense but ITS SO HARD bc i like to say what’s on my mind and always feel the need to put my 2cents in every topic even if no one asked.

- i make myself giggle with my own jokes.

- have been told that being around me can feel like such a ‘rush’ due to how lively and chirpy i am. i try to hold myself back bc i don’t like overwhelming people.

- really into makeup and fashion, and in general just always making sure i look my best. i’ve been told my hair and eyes are my best features.

- i can be a bit of an airhead sometimes, most of the time. i trip over air, have butterfingers, i could be looking for something only for that thing to have been in my hand the whole time, that sort of stuff 😪

- i like collecting plushies, especially cute foodie ones!

- i’m a violinist. when i play, it’s the only time i feel like i have my shit together 🤩

- i love anything taro flavoured; drinks, steamed buns, cakes, etc..

- i buy fresh flowers every week bc they’re pretty and bring life into any room/space 🌸

THATS ENOUGH IM SORRY super keen to see who you pair me with me! 🙈💕

OHH, HIII!! i’ve been waiting to do yours since the ask you send me, yayyyy!!!

•⁀➷ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. . . ﹫ 𝘨𝘰𝘫𝘰 ៹ ༉‧₊˚

everyone in jujutsu tech knew that the universe was against them, not because they are sorceress and their life will be short, is more for the fact that you and gojo satoru met, and it became everyone’s problem.

the moment gojo sat by your side, he a second year and you a first, he barely introduced himself before shifting his attention to your heels as part of your uniform.

“how do you run from a curse with this shoes?” he asks.

“i’ll show you.” you got up from the bench and started to run. he was impressed, but thought he could do better.

few hours later, returning from a shopping spree sponsored by the gojo clan, you both are running in stilettos on school ground. sorry to say it, but he won the race.

you can try to be a mysterious girl, and it can work the first few minutes with your friends and strangers, but never with satoru. one look at you, and he knows what you’re thinking. both of you develop this head and eye signs to understand each other, and it creeps geto and nanami a lot.

satoru loves to have you rambling whatever it’s on your mind. you read a newspaper about a random topic, such as the eldest animal alive, and somehow you will start to talk as if you personally knew the creature. gojo, always enchanted, will encourage it.

if no one asks, he does.

gojo knew he had to have you, and so he did. now, years later, when adulthood has reached, the male is still as devoted to you and your babbling as he was before.

you don’t think there has been a day you held yourself back from talking. on your first week living together in a penthouse, gojo came home tired from a mission, you kept yourself quiet while hugging him, until he tugged you along to the bathroom.

“talk to me.” he says while starting his shower, you sat on the floor while whispering of your week, and when gojo was drying himself you were already explosive yapping about anything and him mimicking you.

you’re his energy.

gojo loves to see you walking around barefoot, he is reminded of his first time seeing it. how short you became right away, how he laughed at your cuteness. you told him that it’s not big deal, he is taller than anyone no matter what. but, it’s you — his favorite person in the world, barely reaching his chest.

when you play violin and he is at the house, you know he will drop anything to come your way and sit, staring at you until your cheeks grow red and you have to pause your playing to beg him to stop.

“i’m not doing anything.” he raises his hand, innocent eyes and devilish smirk. “just appreciating the show.

so, you will play again, not daring to look at him but feeling all his six eyes on you. devoted.

a good word to express satoru’s love for you — it’s always for you, always has been and will be.

──── 𓇼 ° ⋆ FUN FACTS ᵎᵎ

۫ ּ ﹗satoru loves that he knows you better than no one, and the best way he found to prove that to himself, others and you is by spoiling. he randomly picks you up from your job and takes you to the mall, anything you stare for more than five seconds will be bought. usually those things are high heels, clothes and makeup.

۫ ּ ﹗you both know he doesn’t need you that to buy it, he knows you’d style and what compliments you the most, and vice versa as well. whenever you both go out to a fancy place, all eyes are on you. two pretty bad bitches.

۫ ּ ﹗weekly dates are a requirement, they aren’t usually fancy, because you both rather be somewhere allowed to be a little weird and loud. so, cute bakeries and picnics are a must. he always buys you the taro flavored, he also likes to ask to taste only to say it sucks.

۫ ּ ﹗you and gojo have a little play fight every week, both coming home with bouquets and trying to out-stand the other. satoru mostly looses, but every month he comes home with the flowers, a taro drink and a new plushie to your collection, so he wins.

۫ ּ ﹗he is a little shit with your antics. you trip over something and he is there to catch you, saying “did you fall for me?” yes, idiot. and if you are looking for something in your hand, he won’t tell you, he will indulge in it, searching with you. such a bitch.

[boredgoon]

A flashback.

I had been a homeless person. I never really had a home, a place to stay. Then I tightened my grip on my backpack and stepped forth into the wild world of Tumblr. It was a bustling city, towers many times taller than me stretching to the skies.

I was in a small alleyway, the cement clean and empty. It was calm, but it was lonesome. I stayed there for a while, making myself comfortable in the alley. Then I took a chance and entered the street. I felt so small. There were big, important people and then was me. I watched, made a few quiet comments to myself.

Then I saw somebody run past, laughing evilly. I jumped out of the way, and my eyes grew wide as I watched these people. Things seemed more colorful then. A mad scientist, an evil overlord. Heroes and sidekicks. Goons by the handful. They fought each other, the villains and the heroes.

I stalked them for a few days, asked some questions anonymously. Asked if I could be a goon too. Got accepted.

My boss is the best and most wickedly villainous person I’ve ever known. He gave me a sticker and a big cape. Those are my most prized of possessions. I feel welcome, I feel … as if I am one of them.

Maybe I even am one of them.

And now there’s these dang moles everywhere! But whatever. They’re very interesting… and possibly evil! >:D

And while you were distracted by this little story, I’ve taken your wallet. Have fun without it :P

[i-cant-stop-fandoming-help]

The Embrace of a Weeping Willow

Prologue: Part 4

Warning for talks of religion.

Feedback is appreciated!

Kinjo had slowed down to match Yuki’s speed a while ago. It was quite delightful, in all honesty– Yuki didn’t know if it was because he was tired or if he was just being kind, but either way, it was nice. “Kinjo,” he spoke in a curious yet quiet voice, similar to the one he had been using the entire time– just lacking the nervousness now. “What’d you think of those last two? The siblings. They weren’t like each other at all…”

“They didn’t share a last name.” Came the near immediate answer, “Nor do they look similar. Maybe they’re half siblings, maybe one is adopted– it was curious nonetheless.”

The ginger fidgeted with the sleeves of his brown jacket and let his eyelids droop. “You’re right… I didn’t really pay attention to it. Kisaragi was really energetic– so much so that I got overwhelmed, I guess? I’m not sure how you were able to handle it, haha…!”

Kinjo shrugged his shoulders and peered at the other from the corner of his eye. His red eyes, a crimson that could be compared to rubies or blood, were now soft. Kind of like rose petals… Yeesh, how long had he been asleep in that garden? Plants were getting to his head now.

“I’m used to loud people. Criminals,” The word had his glare turn fierce for a moment, with his upper lip curling into a sneer alongside it, “are loud. They think that if they talk a lot of nonsense, and that if they’re the loudest person in the room, then we’ll give up and let them go. That I’ll give up.”

His leather gloves tightened as he curled his fingers into fists. The gentleness had vanished, replaced with pure and utter hatred. “There is a reason,” he spat in a venomous voice, his snake-like fangs bared, “that I am an ultimate.”

Yuki was scared– he was scared. Sure, he’d only known Kinjo for a bit– an hour at most– but he hadn’t quite seen this intense hatred from him before; the most he had heard was a gruff voice. “Kinjo–” he squeaked as he stopped walking, now digging his nails into the fabric of his own jacket, “... please calm down…!”

He did not dare touch the other. Not when he knew the other had a weapon, as well as more muscle than he did. He did not dare say anything more to the cop’s rambling, afraid to speak his mind about how scary it was. Thankfully, Kinjo listened to his plea and took a few deep breaths in. In the moment where the police officer had his eyes closed, Yuki tried to focus on anything he could– and found himself examining the features of the other’s face.

His jaw was tight and square, his lower lip had a cut on it, and the bridge of his nose was a bit crooked– likely from being broken, if Yuki had to guess. But he didn’t look bad, far from it, even. Kinjo was, admittedly, a handsome man.

“Kurokawa,” Kinjo spoke once more, moving back to the conversation about the siblings, “was a bit taller than her brother. I don’t know if she was wearing heels, but she appeared to be about two-three centimeters taller; and that’s for if I had to guess.”

Yuki perked up at the observation, accidentally meeting Kinjo’s half-opened eyes in the process. “You could really tell that much? I didn’t even notice that. That’s impressive!”

The officer tore his ruby eyes from staring at the ginger. “I’ve been trained. If, on the rare occasion, a criminal manages to get away in a chase, I need to be able to guess their approximate height and weight so we can put out a message asking citizens to be on the lookout.”

He moved to reach for something on his belt, but pulled his hand away when the area he tapped at had nothing attached. “It’s rare for me to need to do such a thing, because I typically have access to my car– so I can catch them in time. But when I’m chasing on foot, there are sometimes people faster than myself. And I don’t have the paintballs at hand to stain them with, like we would a car.”

Yuki would have to ask about the paintball thing later. Currently, he was just fascinated with all the knowledge Kinjo had in regards to his job– the most Yuki knew about his own was making coffee. They never had him do much else.

Again, there was talking nearby. It was even more energetic than Maki and Taira’s conversation; One voice was loud and chirpy, like a bird, another was heavily accented and full of life, and a third was smooth yet outspoken.

“Satsuki is SO EXCITED TO BE AT HOPE'S PEAK!!” Exclaimed the chirpy one. When Yuki peered the corner briefly, he saw a flash of white gloves and blue hair. “SHE’S GONNA BECOME THE BESTEST CLOWN EVER!!! OF ALL TIME!!!”

“YA NEARLY HIT ME IN THA HEAD WITH A PLATE!” shouted the accented voice in retort. It was soon followed by a squeal of terror, and then the sound of a plate hitting the wall.

“OOPSIES!!” giggled the bird, “That was an accident! Satsuki wanted to show that she wouldn’t do it again!”

The outspoken voice was just snorting and laughing. Oh, god, not again… Yuki wouldn’t be able to handle even more energy…

“Looks like there’s more.” Kinjo said, pointing out the obvious. Withouting waiting for the lucky student, he stepped forward and moved into sight of the newest discoveries. When Yuki followed, his gaze fell upon a pink and blue clown, a man wearing an aviator hat with goggles, and a man with a rather ugly hairstyle.

The two bickering, who had been the clown and the green-haired man, both fell silent as their star-filled gazes fell onto the new duo. The third, the man with the aviator hat, cracked a slow and crooked grin and waved. “Yo!”

“Um…” Yuki spoke first this time, much to Kinjo’s surprise. “Yo..?”

The aviator marched forward and grabbed Yuki’s hand forcefully. He was beginning to get tired of that… “You gotta say it with more energy! YO!”

Before Yuki could speak, however, the golden-blonde paused, looked down, and let go of the ginger’s hand. “Dude. Your hands are soft.”

The clown gasped and flung her arms up into the air after the announcement was made. “SATSUKI WANTS TO FEEL THEM, TOO!!”

“Excuse me.” Kinjo finally said as he moved an arm to push Yuki a few steps back. “I am Officer Kinjo Tsurugi, from the Ishikawa Prefecture Police Force. I am also… The ultimate Police officer. Who are you three?”

The lucky student was, for once, glad that Kinjo had a commanding voice. It forced the attention away from his hands. They weren’t soft– that was dumb. And made him feel insecure.

“Satsuki’s the ultimate clown! Iranami Satsuki!~” She made a ‘V’ with her fingers and stuck them out. If it were possible, there probably would’ve been sparkles and stars shining around her. She was that bright. “And Torimart is a merchant! And Kobazing is a pilot!”

“‘Torimart…?’” Yuki mumbled with squinted eyes, “‘Kobazing…?’” What kind of names were those…?

The Aviator cleared his throat and stared at Kinjo with sparkling eyes– They weren’t shining in a way similar to Iranami’s. Moreso, they were the eyes of a troublemaker. “Ultimate Pilot; Kobashikawa Haruhiko, it’s nice to meet you!” 

The name sparked a bit of recognition in the ginger’s mind. Something about a plane test flight…? He couldn’t remember all of the details, and seemingly, neither could Kinjo. 

“As for you?” The officer’s gaze turned onto the last one– the strangest looking of the bunch. 

“Mah name’s Otori Teruya! Tha ultima’e merchant! ‘S a pleasure tah meetcha!” His accent made some words sound strange, but they were still comprehensible. Somewhat. But what was his dialect…?

Kinjo’s jaw was tight as he examined the rowdy bunch. Unlike with the siblings, Yuki could easily tell their heights. Well, not guess them– but he could see who was taller and who was shorter. Kobashikawa was the tallest of the trio, whilst Otori was the shortest.

Oh. As he was thinking, Otori’s name clicked. “Oh–! As in Otorimart, right? I mean, with the name and your talent…”

Iranami butted in here, waving her extended hands away as she beeped. When the beeping ended, she spoke… somewhat properly. “BING BONG!! DING DING DING!!”

Otori smacked his hand over her mouth and shushed her with his cheeks slightly puffed out. Then, he turned back to Yuki. “Yeah! Ahm the ‘eir for it! Mah pops taught me e’erything i needa know! I know how tah work tha register, how tha layout of products can affect sales, how–”

“Good to know.” Kinjo interrupted, his upper lip tugged into a half snarl of frustration. Maybe he didn’t like being stuck in one place for too long? Yuki didn’t, either. And he had seen pictures of Hope’s peak’s layout, which didn’t match that of this building’s… but they’d probably find their way out.

“Maeda, my companion,” the officer continued as he gestured towards the ginger, “is the ultimate lucky student; full name Maeda Yuki.”

“Soft hands guy!” Iranami cheered like a child. “Mae-mae! Hmmm…. Mae-yu?” 

“Do you three know anything about this place?” the officer pressed on, ignoring the childish squeal from the clown as she took off one of her gloves and grappled Yuki’s hands. “Have you seen anyone else, or have you heard anything suspicious?”

“Uhh..” The pilot brought his hand up to pinch his chin, with his lower lip stuck out in thought. “Well, a bit ago, we saw a chick with pink hair, and one with black hair. Uhhh… the black-haired one was shorter and faster. The pink-haired one was whining.”

Internally, Yuki cringed at the usage of the word “chick.” On the outside, he was focused on trying to wriggle his hands away from Iranami.

“I see. Those two are likely to be Tomori and Hatano,” Kinjo said, his jaw still tight, “Hatano is the one with black hair, full name Hatano Ayame. Tomori, full name Tomori Kizuna, is the one with pink hair.”

“Ah!” Otori slammed his fist against his open palm. “Tha’s good ta know! Ah think ah heard abou’ em before! Maybe on tha news? Or from listenin’ in on a customer? Or maybe ah jus’ remembered more from tha roster than ah remember!”

Finally chipping in, and finally having freed his hands from the clown’s grasp, Yuki’s voice was soft. Maybe even timid. “Hatano’s the ultimate sprinter, and, er… Tomori’s the ultimate cheerleader.”

Kobashikawa gave him a weird look. And then, like he forgot conversational etiquette, he spoke. “Dude, you need to speak louder. Man up!”

If it were possible, Kinjo’s jaw probably would’ve tightened more. It didn’t, though. Instead, he brought his hand up to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Maeda’s manner of speaking is fine. I can hear him well enough, and you should be able to, as well.”

“Yeaaah! What Copman said!” Iranami began to chew Kobashikawa out playfully, much to both his and Yuki’s dismay. Otori was laughing, though.

Kinjo’s ruby gaze flitted between each member of the trio, resting on each of them with a bit more suspicion than before. Then he closed his eyes and forced his jaw to relax. “I will be taking my leave, now that I know who you are. Perhaps I’ll come back to… converse later. But I need to continue my investigation. Maeda, you may accompany me if you wish, as you’ve shown you’re not much of a risk to have at any crime scene.”

Yuki nodded at his words and began shuffling to follow him. Anything to get away from people who seemed to comment on every little thing about him with no remorse– they didn’t seem malicious, just dumb. “Um… I’ll talk to you three later, maybe!”

–

They had been walking for quite a while again. Of course, there were short breaks caught in between, where Kinjo pulled a flask from his belt and offered some water to Yuki. The container used silver for the metal, albeit darker, and was wrapped with leather to provide a tighter grip. In a somewhat smeared sharpie atop the brown leather were Kinjo’s initials, alongside his phone number for returning. It was… smart, but couldn’t he just buy another flask if this one got lost? And then he noticed a different ink color below the smeared sharpie– purple and just barely even there. It looked like the only reason it was remaining was because it had stained. He could only make out one part of what the purple ink said, and it was an “S” written in messy kanji.

He opened his mouth to ask about it, but no words came out as he thought better. Perhaps this was a family heirloom, that’d make sense why there was smudged ink of a different color. It’d be rude to ask if it was, wouldn’t it…? Ah, he wasn’t sure.

“Maeda. What have you thought of everyone we’ve met so far?” The question felt like it’d be a save point used in video games. It was loaded, but Kinjo’s voice didn’t sound like it had when he was interrogating everyone else. Perhaps a genuine question?

“Well, um… Tomori made me uncomfortable. I didn’t really like how she gave me a nickname right away. But Hatano seemed nice. I liked how calm she was.” He was listing his thoughts in order of who had appeared, albeit completely unintentional. “Inori was nice as well, and I’d like to get to know her more. Yamaguchi seems like a gentle giant, so I’m hoping we can be friends.”

HIs timid nature seemed to fade away as he got more comfortable talking to Kinjo. All the cop did was “hm” and nod along to each word, with the rare “i see” caught in between.

“I didn’t know what to make of Maki. She seems decent enough, but her outfit choices could be better. Then again, I don’t know what I’d expect a sniper to wear around in her free time. Oh, and Taira was fun to talk to! She seems motherly, kind of? I know we didn’t get to talk much,” He was forced to take a deep breath as he went on, “but she seemed motherly. Maybe I was misreading her, though. I hope I can talk to her more soon.”

“And then there’s the siblings! Kurokawa seems like she’s probably smart, but I really wish she would speak louder. I had to strain to hear her. But maybe being quiet is why she was able to hear things her brother couldn’t? Speaking of, I felt bad for Kisaragi when you were chewing him out. But he should also know better than to say things like what he did. He had an interesting appearance, though. Not to say he looked bad! Just… He was clean shaven on his face, but there was hair on his arms. You don’t really see that often.”

His throat had begun to get sore from all the talking, so he took another swig of the water from Kinjo’s flask. It tasted… pointy. It was cold, pointy, and refreshing. But you could also kind of taste the metal. 

“And for those last three. They all seemed socially dumb. Iranami was loud, to the point it hurt my ears, and she grabbed my hands without asking. I didn’t like it much. Kobashikawa did the same, which is kind of why she did it. And I didn’t really like the comments he made about me needing to say things louder or with more force. I guess he was probably trying to help, but it just made me self conscious.  Otori seemed decent, but his accent… er… dialect? Made him hard to understand at points. I couldn’t tell where the accent was from, either. At first, I thought it was Australian, but then it became American, and then it became Scottish… It was strange. Oh, and they didn’t ask how you knew they were ultimates. That was also strange.”

“Mmmhmmm…” Whilst Yuki was distracted with his rambling, Kinjo’s fingers had nimbly worked to remove the flask from his grasp. And then he hesitantly took a swig himself, allowing his lips to meet where the lucky student’s had been a heartbeat before.

“Sorry, I was rambling. I’m done now, though.” the ginger finally said as he brought one hand up to massage his own throat. He’d probably need a throat sweet later.

The officer attached his flask to his belt again before casting a curious glance towards Yuki. He hadn’t mentioned his first opinions on the cop, so Kinjo was rather intrigued on what the answer to that possible question may be. But he wouldn’t force the lucky student into telling him if he was scary or not.

He had slowed his pace to match the ginger’s so they could exchange words better. He began to explain small things about his job, such as the usage of paintballs, as well as how his taser worked. He didn’t take out the weapon to show, obviously, as there was no point to send the electrically charged wires out. It’d be a bit of a waste, actually.

Since Kinjo had allowed Yuki to yap on about his opinions on others, he allowed him to talk about his job. It was only fair, after all. At one point, he could’ve sworn he heard Kinjo say “it’s an eye for an eye,” but when he had looked over, the other’s face bore no sign of aggression or bitterness. Maybe he had been hearing things.

Each bit of new information made the lucky student’s head spin. It was great to learn more sometimes, but it was becoming overwhelming. So he took on Kinjo’s earlier method of humming and nodding to each sentence.

As Kinjo rambled on, Yuki found himself focusing on two new voices. Two more people. Kinjo hadn’t noticed yet, much to the ginger’s bafflement and delight, so he grabbed the other’s arm and waited for him to falter before quietly pointing out the voices.

“The book says to love others as you love yourself, does it not, Uehara?” Spoke a brash yet feminine voice. What book was she speaking of? “That line about loving your neighbor as you love yourself… It’s been preached to me more often than I care to count.”

An androgynous and monotone voice spoke next. “Yes. I am quite familiar with those verses. It’s used multiple times in the bible, with somewhat different wording each time. It can be seen in the books of Leviticus, Mark, and Matthew. If you wish, I can give you the exact spots in which they can be found.”

Oh. It was about religion. That… wasn’t very common. As Yuki held Kinjo back by his arm, fascinated by the conversation, he noticed another small detail– there was a bit of an Italian accent to the androgynous voice. 

The person with the brash voice must’ve gestured for the androgynous one to continue, or something, as they continued on. “Leviticus 19:18, Mark 12:28-34, Matthew 22:39. Back onto the original conversation of how religion can harm people, despite that quote being used so often… Hm. Anything can be used as an excuse to harm. I have always tried to avoid causing damage to anyone inside and outside of my beliefs, but I’m sure I have made mistakes here and there.”

“The issue comes,” ‘Uehara’ continued, “when words are taken from the lord’s mouth and twisted in such vile ways as to cause harm. It is blasphemous.”

“Yes,” mused the feminine voice, “I can see why it is blasphemous. I’ve read parts of the book throughout my life. And I will only ever see it as a book. But I remember parts about love and respect, the whole flowery and happy-go-lucky bunch. And there are parts I remember that conflict with more venomous parts, and yet the conflicting verses are often forgotten in favor of the poison. I’ve had my fair share of religious students, and quite a few have told me horrendous things that they’ve gotten from that book of theirs. It’s–”

Kinjo grunted impatiently and wriggled free of Yuki’s grasp. It wasn’t hard, considering the lack of muscle on the ginger. His grunting was loud enough to end the conversation between the two new voices, much to Yuki’s disappointment, but Kinjo didn’t seem to care; seeing as he marched forward to interrupt further.

After a bit, the lucky student followed.

There were two people, as expected. One had long and curly orange hair, as well as golden eyes. At least, Yuki thought they were golden– they looked orange at some angles. Maybe they were amber…? The other had white hair and sapphire eyes. Their white hair reached the bottom of their neck, but went no further. 

“Oh.” Said the one with white hair– they were the one with the androgynous voice. Their appearance fit the earlier conversation about religion; A white undershirt, a black suit jacket, plain black pants, and plain black shoes. Rested above their chest was a cross, attached to the thin metal of a necklace, and it was matched by the white scarf they wore… which. Also had crosses. Lotta crosses. In their hand, they held a bible at their side. 

The ginger crossed her arms over her chest. She wore glasses, unlike every other person they had met, as well as a blue suit. Er, was suit the right term? It used a skirt instead of pants, after all. Either way, it did look like a suit aside from that. Her shoes were red mary-janes, a rather common shoe type, but they still gave her a professional look. She looked smart.

“Kinjo Tsurugi, officer from the Ishikawa Prefecture Police Force.” Yuki’s companion said sharply, continuing the same old pattern of flashing his badge. Surely he must be getting tired of it. “My companion is Maeda Yuki. Who are you two?”

The ginger flicked her hair with her wrist, sending each strand up into the air gracefully, before she smiled smugly. “Oh, I’m familiar with you both– I read the roster. Ultimate policeman and ultimate lucky student. A madman's talent and an incompetent’s talent.”

Already, Yuki wasn’t a fan of her.

“Well, I suppose I’ll return the favor of introduction.” She laughed into her hand, which had moved to her mouth, and stared at them with an expression that made Yuki feel insecure. “Mekaru Rei, the ultimate professor. Don’t disappoint.”

She didn’t introduce her companion, which allowed them to speak for themselves. “I am Uehara Kinji, the ultimate priest– please forgive me if I mess up on the pronunciation of words, I am not quite used to speaking Japanese again.”

Uehara Kinji… Well, Kinji was a masculine name, so that must mean Uehara was a man? Right? Just in case, he waited for further clarification.

“Priestboy and I,” Mekaru said, confirming Maeda’s beliefs, “were having a rather nice conversation, Officer. I’d appreciate it if you let us get back to it.”

The way she said the officer sounded as though she was mocking Kinjo, and the bluenette seemed to pick up on this, too. Blessing Mekaru, however, there was a loud beeping followed by a strange voice.

“Is this thing working finally? Sorry. Please make your way to the dining hall! There should be maps appearing nearby. There will be food prepared for you, students of class 79!”

The group exchanged wary glances with each other before Kinjo made the first move. There was suspicion on his face again, more intense than when he had been interrogating everyone, and it seemed as though it wouldn’t be fading anytime soon. Yuki could only sprint to follow.

—

The dining room, as promised, bore food. There were rice balls, different types of sushi, some soup, pot stickers, and even some dumplings. Yuki’d never admit it if asked, but he was tempted to hog all of the pot stickers to himself. Sadly, Maki showed up before he could do that and snagged a few for herself. He settled for just taking 5. 

He found a seat next to Taira, where they conversed a bit further. Apparently, she had run into Inori and Yamaguchi, as well as Hatano and Tomori. She had split up with Maki after meeting with Hatano and Tomori, as Maki wanted to spend more time talking with the cheerleader. So she and Hatano had ended up finding their ways to the dining room together, and agreed to train together whenever they had the chance. Yuki was a bit surprised to find out Taira was athletic, but… he supposed it wasn’t that shocking, considering she must need some kind of strength for her job.

“Goodness, it’s rather nice to not have to prepare food for once… Getting fed and not having to do anything for it? It feels like a dream…” As if to accentuate this, she brought a dumpling to her mouth and allowed her entire expression to melt from the taste alone. Yuki could do nothing but giggle.

Around him, many different people were conversing with each other. Higa and Kobashikawa were talking about sports, Kurokawa was quietly eating her food as Otori and Kisaragi bonded over their jobs as family heirs, and Kinjo was talking to Yamaguchi about a recent case.

It was nice.

Of course, all nice things must be interrupted. You can never be happy for too long. Everyone must experience misery at some point.

Kurokawa seemed suddenly alert and was now tugging at one of the strap’s on her brother’s overalls, who went quiet. Then he said something to Otori, who also quieted down. Bit by bit, one end of the table went completely quiet, allowing for some purring to echo throughout the air. And then a cat jumped onto the table.

It was a little black-and-white kitty, whom looked to be wearing a little bowtie. It had golden eyes… er, actually, one singular golden eye. The other was red and infected from a scar.

“Pardon me.” The cat seemed to say. Even when Yuki did a double take, it still seemed to be speaking. “I am very sorry for interrupting your meal and bonding time.”

Next to him, he could hear Taira whispering. “Is… is that cat speaking…?”

Thank god it wasn’t just him who was hearing things. The cat made sure to avoid each bit of food as it trotted to the center of the table, just so It could be heard better by each side. “I am mono-meow. I will be your host during this game.”

Kinjo’s dominant hand had moved to his belt. Yuki could only hope he wasn’t as cruel as to shoot an animal.

“Game?” Iranami chirped, grains of rice caught around her mouth. “Satsuki likes games! What kind of game?”

The cat’s movements were robotic as it turned its head to stare at her. After letting silence hang in the air, longer than Yuki felt comfortable with, its mouth moved again.

“A killing game.”

–PROLOGUE: END—

---

End notes: This is what Monomeow looks like link

also i am not religious, i just researched religion and talked to a religious friend for Kinji and Rei's conversation.

[gotjacobian]

Coming back from China tomorrow. I wasn’t able to do the chronological journaling thing I did from Japan (this was jointly a tourism and “meeting my gf’s family” trip, so I had a lot less solo downtime overall.) BUT I got to do a bunch of cool stuff I want to have feelings about, so instead I’m gonna share in a sort of ranked list. First are Things I Think Are Worth Going To China For. Like, on their own - the once-in-a-lifetime stuff that’s worth structuring a trip around.

- The Great Wall. Probably the least surprising thing I could put here, but like, the name says it. It’s a pretty good wall. We went my second day here, to the stretch that’s near Beijing and is some of the most heavily touristed. The view is amazing. It’s one of the most “wow, this looks exactly how people draw it” things I’ve seen in my life. I couldn’t stop myself from commenting repeatedly on how photogenic it was for something that very much predates cameras. Like, just look at this:

It requires a lot of walking on stairs and uneven ground. If you pay extra, you can take a chair lift up (great if you can handle heights) and a toboggan slide-thing down. It’s like, slightly sketchier than your average US six flags experience? But only slightly. You get a brake that controls your own speed going down. I got assigned “young person who’s eyeing that toboggan a little too hard” by the ride operators and they made me wait a few minutes behind the group in front of us before starting the slide, and I’m proud to say I did still catch up to them.

Another thing, because I don’t know where else to put it - I was expecting to be taller relative to the general population in china than I am in the US. But I was surprised there were a few times I had to squeeze myself into whatever people infrastructure was available. I’m not *that* tall, but have absurdly long legs for my height. In the shuttlebus up to the wall, my knees were jammed into the seat in front of me even when it wasn’t leaned back. There wasn’t really any way to avoid it. I have no idea what i.e. my 6’4” father would’ve done.

One last note - there were cats! No one told me there would be cats, but there were a LOT of them. People were lined up to take pictures of the first one here, who was just chilling on the wall itself.

- Next, the Beijing Lantern Festival. We ended up here as a last minute thing. It was *technically* a Mid Autumn Festival attraction, which was before my trip. But it lasted into October and my gf’s parents offered to take us on a night we had no other plans. Parking was hell, it took us 15 minutes to figure out how to get in, and then:

It’s basically a small theme park of foods, souvenirs, and giant lantern displays. It was gorgeous. Walking through it was maybe my favorite part of the trip. Pictures don’t do it justice - a lot of the displays flashed or moved or reacted when you walked past. The construction and use of the lantern ribbing in the design were so, so cool. I was walking around with my jaw dragging on the sidewalk. Like, let it be known that I’m an easy mark for this kind of thing. But if you also are, I honestly think it’s worth timing a trip around.

You could also buy a small lantern to carry around as a souvenir. My gf and I got this red lotus one. I cannot express enough how gratifying it is in practice to get to carry around a pretty light at the pretty light show.

- Seeing China. Weird thing to include - like, obviously you want to see a place you’re going - but it was a defining feeling on the whole trip for me. I was really struck when we were driving into Beijing from the airport how much less I knew about what places in China look like than I did about Japan before going there. It’s not like it’s a secret, exactly, but I think the additional barriers to western tourism (it’s the only place I, an American, have been that I had to pre-apply for a visa to go. More on that later.) and uncensored internet access make a big difference in how the information diffuses. And China is bigger than Japan (and South Korea, but I feel less able to compare my experiences there bc I was only in Seoul, and only for a couple days). So there’s less of a centralized picture to sell, and when there was, it felt very… politicized. Not to mention that information on China in the US often comes with a lot of political and cultural baggage on the receiving end. The information landscape is just different.

Potentially reflecting that, there were way, way fewer western tourists here than in Japan. I was the only obviously non-chinese person anywhere I went except the Great Wall and Forbidden City. Some of this might’ve been timing? And some of it might’ve been that a lot of my travel was facilitated by people who literally live here, so I probably spent less time in “touristy” areas overall. But even there, the vibe was different - much more geared towards chinese tourists than western ones (think no english audio guide at a museum, or a guide assuming knowledge of china’s history beyond a US AP World History level). My layman’s read, fwiw, is that China feels like it has put a lot less effort into “courting” western tourists in general, and presenting a united picture of China For Tourists than i.e. Japan has. And has put more effort into selling a picture of What China Is to Chinese citizens. I’m now very curious if this is what the US (especially DC) feels like to non-american tourists.

But anyway, tl;dr: It was cool to actually see the country I’d only heard about secondhand. Maybe the one I have the most secondhand connection to, across several close relationships. It was interesting to try and put the cultural diffusion to the US in context. And it was affecting to go there and see even mundane stuff that was hard to see otherwise. I found some of the exact souvenirs I’d been given as gifts by friends in middle and high school. I took a lot more pictures than I normally would. Beijing felt a lot like Dallas to me in some ways (lots of 70s era buildings, lots of highways connecting a wide radius of suburbs) and a lot like a brutalist DC in the rest of its vibes. Chengdu felt like a cross between Chicago and Orlando- a beach city with no beaches. Tianjin was… beautiful but weird. I have too many photos to put in a tumblr post, but would be happy to share more with anyone who’s interested.

[dametussy]

On Being an Unloved Character from an Unpopular Source

My name is Dametas, and I regret to report that I’ve been forgotten.

My source material, a Shakespearean/jukebox fusion musical called Head Over Heels, lived and died on Broadway some years ago. With it, so did I, as I know myself. Other versions of me survive in whatever regional theatre companies have the good taste to adapt HOH, but none of them are me. We have two other fictives from this musical: the selfless shepherd Musidorus, and my most beloved, dearly sacred Pythio.

Musidorus sees some glimmers of herself in other adaptations, but she was sourced from a regional production to begin with, so there’s already a level of unrelatability to her self-conception, when I compare it against my own. Pythio, being the complex angel that They are, sees the complete reflection of Themself in the face of every actor or actress who has ever borne Their name on a playbill. This includes everyone from Their Broadway actress, Peppermint, to our very own body— on a technicality— and I can’t say I don’t envy Them for it.

Where I think the three of us differ is in essence. Musidorus relates solidly to her Broadway version, not in the least because of their similar voices and physiques. Most of their differences are in subtler things like hair color, facial structure, or alignment on the bigender presentation spectrum. In the end, she can recognize any portrayal with a similar essence to her own as a Musidorus unto himself.

As I partly described, Pythio can perceive anyone who claims to be Their character as a new aspect of Their being, with no regard to appearance, acting ability, species/gender presentation, or otherwise. This could theoretically be detrimental; if one were to name a cooked spaghetti noodle “Pythio” and toss it onto a stage, our Pythio would sincerely resonate with that interpretation. I adore every one of the infinite multitudes Pythio contains, but I am much more attracted to people than to pasta.

To return to myself, I rarely ever see more than glimpses of my own essence in portrayals beyond the familiar Broadway territory. If he doesn’t look like me, chubbiness and sock-sandal-combo and all, the connection is DOA. If he’s taller than Pythio, or if he seems to regard Them as anything less than the very possessor of his soul, then he’s like me in name alone. I haven’t yet run across a second portrayal of my character that resonates, and because of this, I sometimes feel like I’m dead to the outside world.

Not only was my essence scattered to the wind after the Broadway HOH’s closing night, but even before then, I doubt I was particularly well-known. In the days when it was open, Pythio was Pythio, and as such was inherently unforgettable. Musidorus was a main protagonist, with all the charm and drama needed to win audiences over. But… me? I was the set piece in a world full of star power. They fought duels and issued prophecies while I pushed around props and “coincidentally” found myself in the back row of every dance number. If an audience member fell asleep during the right twenty minutes, I could have easily been mistaken as part of the ensemble, if not a fashionable stagehand.

That’s not something I would change about myself, but it is something that brings up emotions too complicated for names. I’m naturally helpful and obedient— I was King Basilius’s advisor and servant, so of course I’d be doing the menial work that was too good for him! That was my entire job! Pythio has helped me feel prouder of my station and personality, but I feel no less neglected by the general public for it. I got a minute-long solo :) which didn’t even make it into the show :( It’s a miracle it ended up on the soundtrack!

My heart goes out to fictives who identify with their sources and suffer as I do. To the side characters, to the background characters, to the OCs, to all of you who never make it onto merch or the tops of tierlists… I see you. Trust me when I say that you are worth remembering, and it is only the fault of a tasteless audience that your source languishes in obscurity. If you want it, I hope you find fanwork that makes you feel understood. I hope your sources and their fandoms make you feel as seen as you want, and that they characterize you in ways that do you justice. If you wish to be, may you be a blorbo to somebody who gets you.

It’s late, and I think I’ve made the points I needed to, with the exception of one: while I heavily identify with my source— clearly— I respect and acknowledge that many in the plural community do not. I understand that the way I talk about my source will not resonate with all of you. That being said, I hope my long-repressed rant finds the folks who feel like me. I hope they know they’re not alone in this.

[katnissmellarkkk]

Hiiii! Okay so I know this isn’t my usual type of story but I for this idea and decided to try something new! I have much of this story already written so hopefully I can give y’all quick updates for this fic! I appreciate all you loyal readers and especially you loyal commenters! You guys make my day and make me so grateful for getting to share my writing with such sweethearts 🤍🤍🤍.

I hope you all enjoy this fic, the storyline is little darker than my usual content, but it’s very much an on-brand Everlark story from me! I was inspired by videos of celebrity stalker stories. Also this is the first time in about 5-ish years that I wrote in the past tense. So forgive me if I slipped up here and there with that. The story begins in past tense and by the end of chapter 2 or start of chapter 3 it’ll move back to the usual present tense The Hunger Games is known for.

Thank you for reading and God bless you all 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

-

Summary : when a strange man comes to Twelve and begins to pop up unexpectedly wherever Katniss is, her and Peeta find themselves quickly in over their head with a stalker.

-

I’d never seen eyes two different colors before. That’s what struck me most about the strange man. I became accustomed to seeing people walk around with their skin dyed unnatural shades, with jewels implanted in their flesh, with feathers in their rainbow hair and eyelashes made of pure glitter. But I’ve never seen a person have one eye green and one eye purple before.

In fact, I’ve never even seen someone with two purple eyes before.

That was the first thing about him that gives me pause. His eyes. But not the last.

No. That was far from the last.

-

I was walking down the street the day I saw him for the first time. He wasn’t tall. Taller than me, sure, but not taller than most. Especially not for a man. Peeta could easily tower over him.

Maybe that’s why I didn’t feel afraid. Because for as long as I had my husband next to me, holding onto me, his muscular arm swinging our interlocked fingers happily between us, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb as we made our way into town, I had no reason to be afraid.

I was never afraid when I had Peeta with me.

And out in the woods, I’m in my element. In the woods, I know exactly who I am. I’ve always known where I belonged when I set foot among those trees. I’ve never felt afraid out there. And it’s not just because of the loaded bow across my back.

No, the woods were my first home. Before Peeta, before the games, before I was the head of my household, caring for my mother and sister, I was just a girl in those trees. With just my father by my side.

Until the last couple of years that was the only place I truly felt at home. I never felt like myself in a crowd. I never felt comfortable in my own skin when I was surrounded by people, when I stood in the town square, when I bought and traded in the market among the merchants and my schoolmates, when I sat in class as a child. Never could I let my guard down around people, aside from the handful that snuck their way into my heart.

But of course, if anyone could change my heart, it was Peeta. The boy with the bread, the one who showed me hope time and time again, who loved me unconditionally, who refused to give up on me, even when he couldn’t separate me from the mutt that haunted him.

Peeta taught me how to love, how to forgive, how to live again. He made me feel safe and comfortable wherever we were. He made me belong, no matter who else was around.

But maybe that wasn’t such a good thing. Maybe if I had felt a little more on edge, I’d have noticed the strange man, with the purple and green eyes, right from that very first moment on the street.

But that’s not how this story went.

-

Read The Rest On AO3

[lampmanliveblogs]

”…King? Oh wow, I know I said ’See you in heaven, one day,’ but I didn’t figure it’d be this soon. And I gotta say, I knew the day would come, but it is still so weird to see you taller than me.” -Luz right now, probably

Nah, it’s the Titan of course! In the flesh, or, uh… in the spirit I guess, since his body is left in the Demon Realm, being possessed by Philip Phungi and all that.

Right of the bat, I notice that he’s got that Hooty worm thingy coming out of his right eye (our left). His right eye is also the one that started glowing when Philip started possessing his body.

Philip… is the worm.

There he is, in all his majestic glory.

The beard. The worm.The wings (which I guess King will start growing one day…). The casual wear: a dressing gown over a Bad Girl Coven shirt (don’t tell Eda about this or we’ll never hear the end of it), the sweatpants with glowing glyphs on them (aw man, I wish I had a pair of sweatpants with glowing magical symbols on them…). The dad bod.

I’ve only known this guy for like…forty seconds, and I already love him. I love the fatherly vibes he gives off. Appropriate, of course, not just because of his role as a bringer of life to those that live on his decaying body, but it’s also appropriate because we’re at the low point of the episode. We just watched Luz die, Eda, King, & The Collector just watched Luz die, the Boiling Isles are being overrun and slowly torn apart… we need a comforting voice in the darkest hour.

Oh, and something about how Luz’ father is dead and now that she died she got to meet this sort of father figure… something about that, definitely.

”I think King said it best once; ’I am both king and queen, best of both things.’ But ’dad’ works fine.”*

We stan an asexually reproducing king/queen/both things.

(… do people still say ”stan?”)

I mean, I’m assuming this means titans reproduce asexually. And I just wanna say that as an asexually reproductive organism myself, I appreciate this representation.

Secondly, this also tells us that Titan here knows a good deal of the goings ons in the realm of those still living. And his omniscience is arguable better than mine, because I sure as Demon Realm can’t remember when King said that.

(*I looked it up. Turns out King said that in Enchanting Grom Fright, when he nabbed the Grom Queen crown Luz dropped on the floor after she got back home.)

[cozyfoxy]

Mystical Paths

Summary: The Howells have been the proud owners of a small but famous bookstore since the 1800s. They are known for being the only shop that collects original copies of magic writings. Dan works as the bookkeeper of the shop. As the busiest season approaches, one of the most renowned magic families reaches out to the shop and offers to gift them an original Spellbook of sorts. Little did Dan know that these offers would change his life forever.

First Chapter

Read on AO3

Genre: AU

NO WARNINGS

In just one week, Howell’s Mystical Enchantments had earned more money than they typically would in a month. Having Philip Lester’s book in their possession had proven to be a true blessing for the family. Dan was incredibly grateful for the gift, but even more so for the protection that Philip had given him. He truly had needed it.

Overall, the book had been very popular and had gone off without a hitch, however, no one had been able to read it yet. Most customers would swear under their breath and storm off when they saw blank pages, others would groan, but thank Dan for his time, sometimes giving him a tip. Some customers though, would get angry, even violent towards the brunette.

The first time it happened wasn’t too bad. The woman whom Dan knew to be a quite powerful alchemist from Ireland had attempted to throw the book to the floor when she was unable to read the pages. The attempt was of course a failure, as the book had stopped just above the floor and leaped into Dan’s hands, perhaps for protection. Dan really had no idea, but it had brought unwanted attention to him from the crowd.

“Well, well, well. I’ve always been told that Howells don’t have magic, eh? I think this youngin just proved they was lying.” An older woman called out from the hood of her cloak.

Dan had stuttered nervously, trying to find a way to explain the truth when a voice that made the brunette think of honeysuckles on a warm Spring morning sounded from the book. “Idiots. The book is charmed! Daniel here is the keeper, the protector. No, he wields no magic himself, that’s our job. Now, I suggest we all calm down before my creator is summoned. He won’t be as gentle as I am.”

Despite his nerves, Dan felt himself smile when the book moved itself back to the pedestal that it had been displayed on. He walked over to the next person in line to take their payment and continued with his day as normal. Well, as normal as he could with such a powerful book in his possession.

The next time a customer had gotten angry, it had been aimed directly at Dan. A taller man, not much older than Dan had tried to read the book and failed. The man had groaned like so many others before him and set the book down, before glaring at the books keeper.

“Your family is filled with lying cunts. No way this book is from the Lester’s. You all are just trying to make a quick buck! Fuck you all, I want my money back!” the man yelled, moving closer to Dan.

Dan swallowed thickly, shaking his head, “I apologize sir but we do not offer refunds here.”

The man laughed, a shrill, nails on chalkboard kind of sound, “Okay, yeah, that’s fine. Then I’ll just have to take it back myself, or get something just as worthy.”

“Okay Leon, let's leave the boy alone yeah? He ain't done nothing wrong, he’s just doing his job. Back off.” another man had called out, grabbing his friend by the shoulder.

Dan watched nervously as ‘Leon’ shook the hand off of his shoulder and began whispering a strange sentence under his breath, something that Dan couldn’t understand. Magic. Dan gasped and jumped behind a book display, screaming when books in front of him suddenly caught fire. The smell made his stomach wretch and chaos erupted around him.

“Leon what the fuck is wrong with you?!” the man’s friend yelled, using his magic to diminish the flames.

“Just getting my revenge.” Leon snarled, walking closer to Dan.

Before Dan even had time to blink, the room filled with a cold fog, and loud shrieks pierced the room. The room was otherwise silent, everyone had paused to get a good look at what was happening once the fog cleared. Some of the customers had pulled out their phones and they were recording what was happening.

Once Dan could get a good look, a gasp passed his lips. The same fox that had originally delivered the book tackled Leon to the ground and stood hard against the man’s chest. Leon looked absolutely terrified of the fox, he was shaking beneath the animal. Everyone around watched in shock when the fox seemed to huff into the man’s ear, and Leon began to glow a sickly green color.

“What? What are you doing?” Dan asked, walking closer to the crowd.

The fox only paused for a moment before pressing both front paws against Leon’s throat, making him yell in pain. With the yell, came a mist from his throat, the glowing green color leaving his body and forming a ball in the air. Dan stared at the ball with the rest of the crowd, covering his ears when the fox suddenly let out an ear-piercing scream; the ball moving towards him. The fox quickly swallowed the ball, seeming to shake its head in disgust before turning to the crowd.

“Let this be a lesson to you all, and anyone who dares to mess with the Howells in any way. I will not hesitate in any circumstance to step in and take control of the situation. You don’t want that, none of you do. And now, poor little Leon Whitlock has no magic, he will be an embarrassment to his family. Well, more than he already was.” the fox spoke in a very familiar voice, without moving its mouth.

Leon’s friend stepped forward, breathing unevenly, “You… you took his magic? That’s not even possible… no one can take magic from other people. Who the hell do you think you are?”

A charming, soft laugh graced the room, the fox moving closer to Dan, “Yes, I took his magic. It is very possible, but only for me, I suppose. And to answer your question, I am Phil Lester.” the fox explained before looking at Dan.

“Are you okay little dove? He didn’t hurt you, right? Just scared you?” Phil’s voice echoed in Dan’s head, making him smile.

“I’m okay, I promise. Just shaken up. Thank you for saving me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” Dan thought back, watching as Phil nuzzled his palm, huffing and nodding before disappearing into thin air. The crowd watched in complete awe, most typing furiously on their phones. Dan was too bewildered to worry himself with what the crowd had just seen, he was too focused on the fact that he had just seen someone have their magic taken.

After the hectic week that Dan had gone through, he couldn’t be more thankful for the weekend. His parents had decided to make it a long weekend, saying that Dan needed a break from working so hard. Normally, Dan would argue with them, lie, and say that he wasn’t overwhelmed; but this time, he agreed. He desperately needed time to be with himself, to worry about himself instead of the magical world that he was thrust into.

He had always been around magic, but not so intimately. He had always watched from afar, getting only as close as needed for his job, but now, Dan felt like a magnet for magical energies. It was as if he could feel the warm buzzing of magic in his lips, in his hands, and his mind. Maybe it was because Phil was able to speak to him through his mind, he must be feeling Phil’s presence.

“You called?” Phil’s voice echoed in Dan’s head suddenly, making him jump.

Dan stuttered anxiously, trying to decide what to say, “Well, yeah I think? I didn’t really mean to subconsciously. Sorry I’ve just had a hell of a week, I’m all over the place. I mean, I’ve been around more magic in the past week than I have in my entire life. It’s a lot to take in.”

Phil chuckled softly, a gentle, warm sound, “I could tell it’s overwhelming for you. I can’t say that I understand, but I do want you to feel more comfortable. It will take time, but you will adjust, magic will just become a normal occurrence in your life. I can’t make the stress go away completely or anything; that’s more of my mum’s specialty. But I can help you calm down and relax if you’d like.”

“How could you do that?” Dan asked out loud, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. Maybe he was going insane, talking to a voice that wasn’t there. Sure, magic was real, but could this really be happening?

“I need you to trust me, Dan. I know that’s hard but just try. I need you to close your eyes until I say to open them.” Phil explained softly, a smile clear in his voice.

Dan debated with himself silently. Phil was telling him to close his eyes, but why? Could he trust someone that he didn’t even know? Could Dan really find it in himself to listen to what the strange voice told him? A sigh passed his lips before he allowed his eyes to flutter shut, still facing the ceiling. Phil had proven that he was going to protect Dan, so he wouldn’t do anything to harm him, right?

“Okay little dove, open your eyes slowly.” Phil hummed, pride evident in his tone.

The brunette opened his eyes slowly, gasping loudly when his eyes were met with a midnight blue sky, that enveloped him in what felt like a warm blanket. He could see the twinkling specks of light clearer than ever before. They seemed more like fireflies than stars, close enough to touch. The only sounds that touched Dan’s ear were that of a gentle wind and something that sounded like ocean waves. He could even smell the sea.

Despite his attempt to force his emotions down, tears burned the rims of his eyes as he searched for his favorite constellations. “How?” Dan whimpered, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. He didn’t even know what he was asking really, he was in complete awe.

Phil chuckled, “Magic Daniel. I am capable of things that most people can’t even imagine.”

Dan shook his head quickly, “no, I mean how did you know this would help me relax?” he whispered, moving into a sitting position.

“Oh, that. Well, it's something that I always do for myself when life gets overwhelming. I kinda went on a limb, but I’m glad you like it.” Phil whispered, sounding unsure for the first time since the men had begun to talk. “Also, I’m… I’m well, here. With you. I know you can’t see me right now, I’m camouflaged, but I’m here. That’s why you’re not hearing me in your head anymore.”

Dan’s eyes widened and he looked around himself anxiously, attempting to find any proof of Phil’s words, “I didn’t even notice I could properly hear you… why are you hiding though?”

Phil placed his hand gently over Dan’s, smiling when a rose pink danced across the other man’s cheeks, “simply because it is not our time to meet entirely. It will happen dove, I promise. But for now, please try to rest. I know you’re exhausted.”

“Yeah… okay, I’ll try to rest. But can you maybe stay until I fall asleep? I feel safer with you here.” Dan whispered, slowly lowering himself back down onto his bed while the night sky continued to move around him.

“Of course, I would never leave you unless you wanted me to. Goodnight my little dove, sleep well.” Phil whispered, shuddering slightly before allowing his camouflage to fall and sitting at Dan’s feet.

Soft snores filled the room before Phil could even register that the man next to him had dozed off. He watched Dan’s gentle, calm breathing in complete awe. How could one person be so incredibly beautiful? Beautiful without even trying to be? Dan was truly a light, brighter than any star that even Phil could create. Despite the rules that Phil had set for himself, rules about waiting for the right moment for everything; he placed a tender kiss on Dan’s hairline.

“Soon, my little dove, you will fly with me again,” Phil whispered, allowing his human form to fade, falling onto four paws comfortably, before running out of the house.

[lorei-writes]

Winter Flower

Chapter I: That Lost; That Found

Masamune x OC [Hana] Summary: Hana wakes up in the gardens of Azuchi castle without any recollection of her past. Who is she? What was she doing there? And most importantly – what is she supposed to do now? Placed under supervision of Lord Date, Hana has to find her footing in the unfamiliar reality of the warring states. Series Masterlist

And so, the story begins.

Content Warnings: memory loss

“It is the first time a woman fell with snow into the gardens of my castle.”

Once upon a time, there was a bird clad in night, its wings housing thousands of stars. Wherever it flew, it stole from the sky. It laughed at the impunity of its own crimes until its voice grew rasp… And just as it thought it’d never be caught, winds tore its feathers out. The bird fell silently, too proud to flap its useless wings or to call for help.

Sometimes I wonder, whether the bird couldn’t have been caged, and thus spared… And whether I wasn’t meant to live out its fate.

I do not remember who I was before I fell. Truth be told, I do not recall falling either, nor anything that followed soon after. The furthest my memory can stretch is… probably this morning, when a maid arrived to apply salve to my feet and hands, only to see that I’ve woken up. It burned as she massaged it in, but not more than once she asked for my name and I could not answer her. I do not know it. I haven’t known even my very own face, and when she brought me the mirror I asked for, I was no more familiar with myself than with her.

It’s been half a day since then. I’ve been told to wait, so I do, even though my body still hurts and, if I could, I’d rather not move. The corridor before me is neither narrow nor wide. Were I to describe it, I’d call it bland, as there is nothing in this space that catches my eyes… Except the sliding doors, although I’d rather not look their way. Whatever is waiting for me on the other side of them, it fills me with dread, the cold air seeping through them doing little to ease my anxieties. The skin on my hands is red and cracked. Cool only makes it itch worse, to the point where it’s hard to hold back from scratching them.

The door opens. My shoulders tense. A man taller than me by nearly a head stands in the way, hazelnut eyes staring at me with… worry? The fur over his collar shivers, ruffled by a chilly draught, but it is me who he seems more concerned about.

“How are your hands?” he asks, reaching for them. I cannot help but notice the bandages running up his forearms – and he stops in his tracks, perhaps made aware of my own distrust.

“They’re… itchy.”

It seems to be the most accurate way to describe them. His arms cross in front of his chest, his forehead creasing thoroughly.

“You’re lucky we found you early, otherwise –”

“Hideyoshi.”

The man looks over his shoulder, as if branded by the voice that came from inside the room. He glances towards me, and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Come in.”

I don’t object.

I don’t think I can.

The room appears spacious, although I don’t dare let my eyes wander. Four heads turn towards me, none of which I can recognise. I drag my feet over the mats covering the floor and up to the long table, to then be pointed to my seat. Hideyoshi leaves me by myself. He takes his place at the right of the carnelian-eyed man, then lounged past what could be considered polite. White haori barely manages not to fall down his back, and yet, somehow he does nothing to remedy the fact. His smile has the hairs on the nape of my neck stand up.

“It is the first time a woman fell with snow into the gardens of my castle.” He stares at me, but I cannot hold his gaze for long. His chin now points even higher as he rests it on the back of his hand. I nearly beg for the question to spill from his lips, fearing the time it will.

“I – I am sorry for intruding,” I stutter, a thin smile splitting the face of the snake-like person to his left. Hideyoshi glares at him, but he joins the conversation just regardless, his voice a low rumble.

“How was your rest, little one?”

“I’ve rested well. Thank you for your hospitality.” I bow my head.

“And pray tell, why were you there in the first place?” I could swear I’ve heard him hiss rather than say. When I straighten my back, they all stare at me, all more similar to shadows rather than humans.

“You did have some guts to sneak in,” Eyepatch lisps. Oh, thank you, I was not aware of how terrible my position is.

“Dumb. You meant it was dumb,” the Fuzzball next to me grumbles.

“It isn’t easy to trespass into Azuchi, though, lord Ieyasu. Most assassins do not make it this far.” Glasses smiles from next to the Eyepatch, opposite of both me and Fuzzball. I see nothing to be cheerful about, Glasses.

“Mitsunari, nobody in their right mind would even consider threatening lord Nobunaga in such a crude manner.” Now Hideyoshi is involved in this too. Great.

“Falling asleep in the snow is not the domain of the sane either,” Snake is gracious enough to notice. I think I may be a mouse about to get eaten.

“I’ve heard experiencing cold can strengthen one’s –”

“Silence,” Mr Confident cuts off Glasses. Our eyes meet, my throat growing tight. “Who are you?” he asks, seemingly amused by the chaos around. They all wait for my answer, but — But I —

“I don’t know.”

Eyepatch laughs a hearty laugh while Fuzzball rolls his eyes. Not even Hideyoshi seems convinced, although he glares at Snake when that grins.

“What is it that you go by?” Snake has seemingly made it his goal to embarrass me.

“I don’t know,” I repeat. Eyepatch leans on the table. I do not appreciate the look in his remaining eye, and for a moment, it does cross my mind that I could hurt him if he laughed again.

“What about Hokuro then?” he suggests.

“Hokuro?” I echo, more dumbfounded than displeased… Although just barely. He reaches over to poke the mole on my cheek.

“Hokuro,” he affirms, but I shift back in my place, before he can touch me again to further push his point.

“Masamune, behave yourself.” Hideyoshi scowls. Tell him, Hideyoshi. I don’t know who I am, but I am definitely not a Hokuro.

“Come on, the lass needs some name.”

Masamune, I wouldn’t trust you with naming a rock now. I do not like the look Snake gives me either – if I could, I’d gladly hide my head between my shoulders.

“Perhaps Hana would be to your liking, little one?” he hums, having me wonder whether there is anything wrong with my nose. I point towards it, thinking that he indeed could have it in mind… But he shakes his head, this thin smile appearing over his face again, fox-like eyes crinkling with amusement.

“You could be a nose-Hana if you insist, although I thought of flowers.”

Surprisingly nice. I nod shyly.

The lord of the castle shifts in his seat. If there is one thing my body knows at its very core, it is not to ever cross that man. His attention turns towards me, and although I do listen, I do not wish to provoke him. In any way.

“Stand up.”

I do.

“Come closer.”

Unfortunately, I do. Because I have to. My legs tremble slightly as I step towards him, awaiting further instructions.

“Sit,” he demands, and I comply. I clench my fist, I clench my jaw – I am not a dog. Do not talk to me like that. My head hangs low, but he grabs me by the chin and forces me to look at him. This time, I do not relent under his gaze. I am furious. Who does he think himself to be, to treat me like a pet?

“That’s a curious expression you have there, little one.” Snake reaches into the folds of his kimono. His fingers are long and slender, each donning a neatly trimmed nail. He sets two brown bottles in front of Nobunaga, both closed with a metal lid. “Care to explain those now?”

“I do not know what those are,” I struggle to speak, the hand holding my chin pushing it up too high.

“They were found among your belongings,” Nobunaga more so accuses than explains. “Prove your intent.”

He lets me go. My fingers tremble as they unscrew the lids on both bottles, and when I bring them closer to myself, I realise both of them contain some smaller than bite-sized tablets. As per habit I formed who knows when, I shake out exactly one out of each bottle and throw them into my mouth.

“Swallow.”

You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you, Nobunaga? My poignancy aside, I do as the lord of the castle demands. I cannot refuse him, or so I fear…

And I wait.

And we wait.

And wait… Wait… Wait…

Nothing happens. I’d breathe a sigh of relief if my body hasn’t already known this would happen. At most, I am a little drowsy, and somehow, in less pain.

“Should you take another one?” the Snake suggests.

“Dosage can be the difference between a medicine and a poison,” Fuzzball grumbles from the end of the table.

“Perceptive as always, Ieyasu.” Snake smiles towards me. Very well. I swallow another set of tablets, to no greater effect.

“Were you even listening to what I’ve just said?”

Snake still smiles, so I —

Hideyoshi stops my hand with his own. “That’s enough.” His brows furrow, the concerned gaze he’s had for me morphing into a glare as soon as it reaches the Snake. “If she takes too many and dies, it still won’t prove anything.”

“My, yet she has taken them of her own volition.”

I just glance between the men, my mind being too slow for any coherent thoughts to form. Nobunaga urges me to look at him again, but this time, I nearly melt into his hand. He laughs, but my eyes can’t sharpen anymore.

“Docile creature,” he calls me before returning his attention to the other men. “Masamune, you’re in charge of watching over her.”

“Sure thing.”

“You’re dismissed,” he says and pushes me away. Mildly drowsy, I only observe, all of the present lords raising to their feet. Hideyoshi hoists me by my shoulder, but I am too confused to oppose him.

A one-eyed shadow stands in front of me. I think I may lose my balance and fall, but the hand he puts on the small of my back steadies me enough to prevent that. There is something feral to his smile, and for a moment I am certain I can see him wearing fangs.

“Come on, lass. Easy does it,” Masamune murmurs as he leads me forward, down through the blank corridor, past the room I’ve woken up in earlier today… Further, outside the castle gates. Into the city. Thick capes of snow lay on the ground, and although I do not know where this premonition comes from, I am sure it is plenty more than what one should expect in this region. The chilly wind has my nose sting; my eyes water as I turn my head towards the sky. Now I am the traveller in a foreign land, even if just by the ruling of my currently empty mind.

I shiver when he pulls me closer to himself. Masamune smells of spice, of chilly wind and of something I can’t quite put my finger on. He is warm, the fact alone offering me some relief… But he is also a stranger, one who attempted to name me Hokuro to add to his offences.

My shoulders relax only once we reach his residence, and I am led away by a group of maids. The moment my futon is set out, I topple over, the land of dreams outstretching its arms to catch me. It is a pleasant embrace, one that erases my worries… Alongside with any recollection of what happened soon after I took the medicine. At least I think it was medicine.

--

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[vyvienne]

Under a Geas

I sit in front of the window watching the sun play along the furniture in the room, sipping morning tea. Long ago I began to drink Honeymint with a quarter twist of lemon after meeting Sarah Skyfall nearly by accident one day in Stormwind. Odd and quirky, Sarah was an engineering savant. She made Drex the most impressive time piece for Winterveil one year. 

It’s apparently become my habit to mull over the past in the quiet hours of the morning, to allow my mind to roam and, once complete, I begin to purge the feelings connected to what comes up. To find distance from the emotions, as I once would have done. 

It’s not that I’ve never felt normal emotions like other people. It’s simply that my life had no time for them until suddenly I was flooded. As if life found a way to push them into my soul, not allowing me to ignore them any longer. Once, I would have pushed them completely away but now I was wise enough to know I must give myself permission to feel them, if only for a few moments each day. Then I slowly snip the thread of connection, if the memory is unwanted, so I may allow my mind to clear. I can remember them without being overwhelmed by them. Walking this line between Shadow and Light makes it imperative that my mind is unclouded and recently that’s far from where I’ve been.

As I sit conducting this morning ritual there’s a quiet knock. I rise, annoyed to be brought out of my reverie before I was ready. When I approach the door I allow a bit of magic to flow into the one hand behind my back. Habits die hard.

As I open the door before me stands a beautiful Sin’dorei woman with jet black hair and bright blue eyes. She was tall, nearly three inches taller than I am. I let the magic grow in my hand, saying nothing, waiting for her to speak. When she does, I blink in surprise.

“My name is Elineda Dawnblade, niece to Aeras Dawnblade, your former mentor. May I come in, Lady Damora?” I step back, allowing her into the room and quickly shut the door while holding that one hand, now thrumming with magic, waiting for an attack. I have always had the suspicion that one day Aeras would attempt to kill me, if for no other reason than he hated leaving what he liked to call “loose ends”. So if young Elineda came for my demise, she would be disappointed.

“Please sit down” I say to her, while not taking a seat myself. She settles herself in a chair. “Tea?’ I ask, as one might when having a surprise visitor in one’s hotel room. “No, thank you” she replies. “I have come with a letter from my uncle.” Her face showed no hint of her nature, but I could sense the turmoil and the grief. I knew immediately that Aeras was no more. I reabsorb the magic, dropping my hand. She proffers the letter and a signet ring which I take and settle into the chair across from her, still cautious but feeling no ill intent from her. I break the seal of the letter, quickly scanning the contents. I look up.

“My dearest dark child (his nickname for me),

I will soon cross the threshold of the Veil, most likely before you receive this letter. I want you to know I have missed you terribly. When we fought that night, the night I left, I realized I had to go. I was breaking my own rule, finding myself unwilling to place you into harm's way any longer. It was then I realized it was time for me to come home. I could no longer do our life’s work. And it certainly turned into your life’s work, did it not, dark child? 

I want you to know I have followed your progress, have always known where you are, and even at times helped when you perhaps ran into odds you weren’t prepared for in the beginning. But you proved more resilient, more powerful, than I ever could have imagined when I took you in those years ago. My aid was less and less until it became completely unnecessary. 

I watched you grow, watched you fall in love, have a child and lose them both. Now I see you need my help again. I will not pass through the Veil until you have all the help I can provide. First, my signet ring which may help you anywhere the Quel’Dorei or Sin’Dorei hold sway. Please wear it in memory of me. I have had it sized down for you. Second, I will you my niece Elineda, who has been trained in the arts of subterfuge, poisons and assassination. You certainly have no need of help when it comes to the latter, but now you find yourself in a mostly unknown and unfamiliar land. Elineda can fill in those gaps for you until you may learn them yourself. I have trained her personally. She is young and eager but she has pristine instincts and is loyal. 

I would have liked to have seen you once more, dark child.

Walk in Shadow, Vyvienne.

Aeras”

I look up at the young woman across from me. She couldn’t be more than 18 or 19 but if Aeras trained her, I knew by this age she could easily be deadly. She watches me with curiosity but waits for me to speak. “He has “willed” your services to me?” What in the bloody Void does that mean, I wonder? Mischievous old goat. “You may have to describe these services. What, exactly, are you to do for me?” I did not offer her condolences, as a normal person might in such circumstances. 

She points at the parchment. “As he told me, I was to be your eyes and ears wherever you may need them, kill whomever you deem a target and keep you alive no matter the cost.” I look her over. No hint of fear, but how much combat could she have seen at her age? “Keep me alive?” I echo. “No matter what? Meaning regardless of the cost of your own life. You are under a geas, then. Your life belongs to me, is that what you understand?” She only nods. I shake my head. “I am unsure if I wish for another life in my hands but as always, your uncle is correct. I can use you. Therefore, I will accept his gift.” Knowing that acceptance could easily mean this young woman’s death, I realize I have no thought on that. Closer to what I was before. I am pleased.

“Take rooms here in the inn. Tell them to put them under my name.” She smiles. “I need only show them my signet.” She held up a ring that mirrors my own. “They will find proper space for me.” She waits. “Once you’re settled, begin to go out into the cities, especially here and Orgrimmar, and listen for things I may need to know. Who hates who? Who owes who? Is anyone speaking of groups dedicated to the Void or groups in the area that are too powerful to exist? These things I wish to know.” She nods, starts to the door and then turns back to me. “He called out your name at the end.” Before I can say a word, she leaves. I know she has tears in her eyes.

I look down at the signet ring. Two blades crossed, covered by the SilverMoon sigil does in reds and golds. The heraldry of House Dawnblade. I slip it onto the middle finger of my right hand. It’s a perfect fit. I’m beginning to feel more at home. I have reached out to my contacts concerning the ore needed by Skormosh. I once again have eyes and ears at my disposal. I have found possible assistance and camaraderie with the Sanctum.

Now I can begin again.