#I broke out in a stress rash

[cleolinda]

Have been dealing with my Anxiety Disorder™ lately, because [gestures at everything]. Normally it’s a real low level kind of thing, I’m on medication, I occasionally have therapy, but I think now we’re all just kind of In It for a while and that’s just something we gotta deal with.

I would strenuously encourage everyone reading this to find the things that keep you afloat, whether it’s a video game, a TV show, standup comedy, anime, a book series, your favorite YouTube channel, one song on loop for eight entire days, whatever it is. Just find something to climb into for a few hours and protect your peace, build up your reserves, for as long as you can.

I feel like I haven’t done much in 2024 except hang on by my fingernails, and sometimes you gotta call that good.

[embarrassedanon]

The Model Patient

Eddie's friend Tony assured him that being a model patient was an easy and painless way to make a few extra bucks on the weekend.

Tony had been given an index card with of symptoms to memorize and assigned a handful of medical students who clamored to be first to diagnose him. Sounded easy enough.

When Eddie pulled up to the medical school that Saturday morning and saw his index card his heart sank. The card's directive was simple yet humiliating.

patient seeks treatment for persistent painful rash on gluteal epidermis

Surely this was some sort of joke Eddie thought. Tony only had to pretend to have the flu, but he had some crazy butt rash. He was going to have to spend the whole talking about a butt rash with these medical students...

Before he could contemplate any further, the director of the model patient program barged into the room looking down at his clipboard.

"What are you doing still dressed?" the disheveled director said barely even looking up at Eddie. "Come on, strip down completely and put on the gown."

"Completely? No one said anything about being naked."

"The students need to grow accustom interacting patients as they'll actually be in real life. If you're going to be a problem can you just go, I've got like a million things to do."

As quick as he arrived the director was gone and Eddie found himself standing in the cold room in nothing but a paper thin gown.

The next 90 minutes were perhaps some of the most embarrassing of Eddie's young life. A revolving door of young, bookish, nerdy, wannabe dermatologists, the types of guys Eddie teased in school came and poked and prodded his exposed backside.

The line between fact and fiction quickly blurred as the simple index card diagnosis gave Eddie no answers for the med students exhaustive questions about his condition.

Not much of an improviser, Eddie was answering honestly engaging with questions about how sweaty his butt got, his habits of shaving his butt cheeks, and what type of underwear he wore. These doctors were intent on finding the cause of his phantom rash.

The invasive questions were nothing compared to the physical exams. Latex gloves did little to insulate cold hands. The students massaged, squeezed, and in one case even parted his cheeks, hoping to get full points for successfully completing a thorough exam. The embarrassment was physically painful for Eddie.

Worse were the students attempting to make him feel comfortable and break the ice. He cringed and broke out into a full body blush as he heard "well I don't have to ask about your exercise habits, it's clear your squatting?" or "No wonder you came in to see about this rash, it's totally cramping your style as you show off that thing."

When the final student finished up, Eddie quickly got dressed, anxious to get home and shower off the embarrassment of the whole ordeal. He entered the lobby where all the students were gather comparing notes from their respective exams. They all looked up at him and sheepishly smiled.

The way they looked at him made him totally naked again. He collected his envelope of cash, feeling cheap and used. He headed to the exit, the future doctors lingering stares on his ass felt hot enough to burn through the seat of his pants. Unbeknownst to Eddie the stress of this ordeal was already forming the faintest hives, exactly where he least wanted them.

It wouldn't be long before his cheeks were getting examined for real.

[azrielsdove]

you probably have many requests… and I’m sorry if I’m burdening you and just want to say you are under absolutely no obligation to do this. Ignore it! Delete it! Answer it! all would be fine!

could you do any male acotar character x reader based off the song by Bruno Mars. Talking To The Moon?

All your writings are fabulous and have made me feel a lot better when I’m down so thank you!

The Moon Above Us: Lucien X Reader

Warnings: Angst

***

Lucien sat in his room for what felt like the hundredth night in a row, staring up at the bright moon above. The silver light shone gently on his face, illuminating the golden eye that resides there. He sucked in a deep breath as memories ran around his mind.

“Hello,” he said softly, the routine he had become used to. “Where are you at tonight?” He pondered his own question, thinking of all her favorite places. A night out at Rita’s perhaps, surrounded by their friends.

Not that Lucien really classified them as his friends anymore. “What are you up to?” He asked the shining moon, remembering the way it reflected upon her eyes. She would laugh and twirl under the brilliant night sky, hair flowing out wide behind her. A night just like that had been when Lucien began to fall in love.

How could everything change so quickly?

“I wish I could take it back,” he whispered up to the sky. “Everything I said that day. It wasn’t truly about you, not really. I let too many things get to me at once and you were the unfortunate victim to my stress and anger.” A tear slid down his cheek, the pain of losing her at his own foolish hand too much to bear.

He would never forget the hurt on her face as he shouted, the fiery rage in her eyes when she yelled back. He had never felt more ashamed of himself than in those moments after she left their shared home, telling him that she never wanted to see his face again.

Lucien had left that very night. Slipped out of Velaris under the cover of the stars, making his way back to Spring.

Tamlin had caught him talking to the moon several times now. At first his friend was concerned that Lucien had lost it, that the break-up had been more than he could handle. Perhaps it was. Lucien didn’t care to explain that the moon was the last connection he had to her, the only way to speak to her. They may be many Courts apart, but the same glimmering moon hung above both of their heads.

“I will always love you, you know. Do you still love me?” He looked down at his hands. “I would understand if you don’t.”

He could never return to her, not without her wish. He wouldn’t risk showing up in Velaris unannounced, the possible wrath of Rhysand too dangerous. A cowardly part of him didn’t think he would survive her anger, if it remained. So he stayed in Spring, talking to the moon as if it was his old lover.

“My heart belongs to you, my soul belongs to yours. I do not know how much longer I can do this without you.” His voice broke on the last sentence, a vulnerability only she and the moon had ever seen.

Lucien looked up one last time, ready to retire to his bed for the night. He hadn’t been the same since she had gone. As often as he spoke up to the moon, he could only hope she knew just how sorry he was.

***

READER POV

You leaned against the small balcony outside the bedroom that used to house two of you. You were focused on the moon above you, as bright and beautiful as ever. “I hope you’re doing well,” you said, looking up into the night.

After the fight you and Lucien got into, you had told him to never come back. You regretted those rash words all too often, wishing you could go back in time. Try to understand his anger, why he had lashed out at you. You knew, even then, that he wasn’t truly upset with you.

“What are you doing tonight?” You asked the moon, pausing as if waiting for an answer. You knew he had gone back to Spring, clearly wanting to be as far away from you as possible. You had half a mind those first few weeks to go after him, but you didn’t think he’d want to see you. Not after what you said.

You felt like half a soul without him, missing him like you would miss a body part. You and Lucien were made for each other, you were certain of it. Now he was gone, leaving you in the home you used to share on the edge of the Sidra. Rhys had asked if you would like to move, offering up other homes in the area. You declined them all, a piece of you unable to leave this one. You felt like if you left this home, you would be losing all you had left of Lucien.

“I’ve been trying to be okay,” you began, eyes focused on the moon. “It’s hard. I miss you, Lu. I miss you so much. I’m not the same without you.” Tears filled your eyes, threatening to fall at any second.

At first you had felt foolish, talking to the moon. The sleepless nights alone had led you out here, gazing up into the night. That was when it had started. It somehow felt like you were talking to him, as if he was on the other side. You told yourself that even Courts apart, the same moon shone above the both of you.

“I’ll never love anyone else, Lu. It’s only ever been you for me, you know that. I tried to tell you that on that awful night.” The silvery light grew blurry under your vision, emotion taking over.

A tear slid down your cheek as you stared at the night. The moon and the stars dancing across the dark sky, making these hard nights feel a little less long. You knew you would always feel broken, as long as Lucien wasn’t by your side.

***

He was yelling, fire raging behind his russet eye. “Do you think you are better than me? Is that it?” You were taken aback, hardly having closed the door behind you.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Lu,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm.

He scoffed. “You spend all your days with them, the ‘High Lord’ and his brothers. Do you take me for a fool?” His anger was radiating throughout the room, infecting you as well.

“Excuse me?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Where is this coming from? I work with them, Lucien. What has crawled up your ass and died?”

“Do not act innocent now! You were just using me, using me to rise up in Spring. Now you can move on to the next male who can give you a higher station. You think the General is going to fuck you? The Shadowsinger? The High Lord himself?” His words were full of hatred, a tone he had never taken with you.

“Have you lost your mind? They are my friends. It has only ever been you, and this is how you have decided to treat me? I would choose your next words very carefully.” You were seething, fists clenched tight at your sides. You knew Lucien had been under a severe amount of stress recently, and something must have pushed him to his limit. However you did not deserve to be attacked like this.

He rolled his eyes. “You are nothing but a user.” His words cut you deep, a knife in your stomach.

You felt hot tears prick at the back of your eyes, anger clouding your vision. “You do not mean that. Tell me you aren’t going to through years of love away due to some, some.. delusion!” You shouted, unable to believe what you were hearing.

“I do mean it. Eris pointed it out to me.” Ah. Eris. That would explain his mood. You calmed ever so slightly, knowing how he got when his brother came around.

“You know as well as anyone that Eris is a fool, Lucien. Do not fall for his games.” You took a step closer to your love, reaching out for him.

He stepped backwards, away from your grasp. “Don’t touch me. I don’t know who to trust anymore.”

You dropped your hand and turned on your heel, heading for the door. You ripped it open, ignoring how hard it slammed against the wall. You would deal with that later. “Get out, Lucien. Get. Out,” you hissed between your teeth, not even fully looking back at him. “I want you gone before I get back, and I never want to see you again. Stay away from me.”

That was the last time you saw him.

***

I’m sorry this took so long to get out!! I haven’t had much time to write recently! I hope this is what you wanted, Talking to the Moon is a FAVORITE song of mine! I made it very sad and angsty, a longing for each other that they don’t realize can be fulfilled. I chose Lucien because I love writing for him! Let me know what you think and thank you for requesting <3

[silvfyre-writings]

Misery and Misfortune Pt. 1 (BSD Fanfic)

Hello, hello, I bring you all some pain, and this time, I have a friend bringing the pain with me! This is a collaboration work between @hyaha-ha-ha and I, so I hope you all enjoy! CW: MCD, Gore, Body Horror

No one knows when it started.

No one knows how it came to be.

But everyone knows just how deadly it is.

I fear for those I care about.

I fear for everyone.

—Yosano Akiko

When the news of a mysterious infection making its way through Yokohama began, Yosano wasn’t even in the city to witness it. She’d been at the other end of the country, at a conference for doctors to get together and talk about the newest treatments. Although she wasn’t the most… conventional doctor, Fukuzawa had been insistent that she attend, so, she had. And while, she would much rather be tormenting her co-workers by strapping them down and removing their limbs when they were foolish enough to get themselves injured, she did have to admit that it was interesting to learn new things.

She also had a feeling it was a ploy to get her to experience things that normal doctors, with normal lives, and normal educations got to experience on a daily basis, which she did appreciate. Fukuzawa had always tried to give her a normal life—well, as normal as a life could be when it came to growing up with Fukuzawa and Ranpo who were very much not normal—after rescuing her from Mori all those years ago, and she’d been forever grateful. And while she didn’t regret how her life had turned out, there were times where she wished that her life had been different. That Mori had never plucked her from the candy store and whisked her away to war.

So with no hesitation, she packed a bag and hopped on the next train to Osaka, the goodbye’s of her co-workers echoing in her ears.

Goodbye’s that had involved warning Dazai against raiding her medicine cabinet—regardless of whether it was a joke or not—and telling Ranpo to eat an actual meal instead of his snacks for once, whilst also making sure that Kunikida didn’t stress himself out while she was gone because she knew him well enough to know that he would the moment she was gone. She’d made sure to check in with the younger members as well—because she did care despite her constant threats of bodily harm, and Atsushi and Kyouka still responded well to knowing that people actually cared about them—and had even made sure to have a quick break with Fukuzawa before her train. And it’d been nice, to see them all happy and smiling, and full of jokes and teasing quips.

It made her believe that everything would be alright.

Not that there’d been any reason to believe otherwise, because as chaotic and accident prone as her precious, put together, little family was, they were more than capable of handling any crisis that was thrown their way.

If only she’d known then, just how wrong she was.

The reporter on the news spoke of an infection of an unknown origin, bringing with it a rash, and open sores, along with a fever that could kill if it got out of hand. They also spoke of how it was unknown just how many people were infected, and that there was no reason to worry. Yosano wasn’t stupid though, and neither was any other doctor in the room currently. They all threw each other uneasy glances, and quiet murmurs broke out across the room, some groups discussing potential causes, and others already coming up with ways of treating it when they got back to their respective hospitals, even though, so far, it was restricted to just Yokohama.

And that was how the rest of the conference went; there was no panic, no fretting, only quiet discussion about what was going on in a city several hours away. Yosano herself, fell into the lull, keeping one eye on the news just like everyone else was, but focusing most of her attention on the people speaking. She wanted to go back and be able to prove that she’s actually learnt something while she’d been gone.

But the days passed, and the news became more frequent.

It was an infection they said, and medicine in this day and age, accompanied by the few skill users with healing abilities, meant that it wouldn’t be long before it was dealt with and forgotten.

It was an infection they said; no one had died, and it hadn’t been discovered outside of Yokohama yet, so it clearly wasn’t airborne, nor was it in the water.

It’s just an infection, Yosano told herself, watching as images of patients in hospitals flicked across the screen, dread filling her stomach that she couldn’t quite understand the origin of.

It’s just an infection, she continued to say, as the phone in her hand lit up with the President’s number.

Yosano wasn’t the type to believe in God; had never had a reason to with the life that she’d lived, with all that pain and suffering that she’d worked hard to put behind her. After all, what kind of God would just sit by and allow an eleven-year-old to suffer as much as she had? What had she done that was no bad to warrant that kind of torment? Not only that, but what God would endorse such a war to happen in the first place where she, a child, had needed to be on the battlefield?

After all these years, she still didn’t have an answer.

And when she arrived back at the Agency, and stepped into the infirmary, what little belief she somehow still had, vanished.

Yosano didn’t know what to think at first, when her eyes fell upon Dazai, his bandages unravelled and replaced with plastic covers that showed the gaping wounds being protected by them, the wires that were connected to him, monitoring his vitals, and the needle in his hand providing nutrition. Her heart skipped a beat, as she forced her eyes away from her friends almost… decaying form, to see Dazai staring at her, expression one that could only be attributed to pain, although she couldn’t be sure he was actually looking at her, eyes glazed with fever and staring right through her almost.

It was the weakest that she’d ever seen him, and she’d seen him on death’s door multiple times.

She stepped closer. “Dazai…”

Dazai’s eyes focused just long enough for him to notice her, and a smile grew on his face. “Yosano-sensei, how kind of you to rush back for little old me.”

“The President called me.” Yosano said, striding over to the bed and taking one of Dazai’s arms into her own to study it. This close, she could see the wound more clearly, see the bone underneath the flesh that had seemingly rotted away, blood leaking from the hole that was left behind. The sheer size of the wound concerned her; spreading up the length of the limb and disappearing underneath the gown that her colleague was wearing. Further up, she could see cracks in the skin on the right side of his face, not quite bleeding, but threatening to.

She’d never seen anything like it.

But she knew what it was.

Despite wishing wholeheartedly that it was anything but.

Yosano looked towards where Kunikida was sitting, looking more stressed than he ever had before. “How did this happen?”

“We aren’t sure.” Kunikida sighed, slumping forward to rest his head in his hands. He took a deep breath. “We pulled the idiot from the river about a week ago, and of course, he got sick from it. But then… he got worse. And now he’s like this.”

“Ah I’ll be fine. Now that you’re here, I’ll be fine.” Dazai interjected, tugging his hand free to drop back against the mattress. Neither Yosano nor Kunikida missed the way it dropped like deadweight, as there was no muscle to support the limb, nor the pained grimace that followed.

Yosano smiled, hoping that it conveyed the confidence that she did not feel in that moment. Her mind drifted away, back towards that of the news report about a mysterious infection spreading around Yokohama.

An infection that currently, had no cure.

Not that she would let that stop her.

She was Akiko Yosano, the Angel of Death. She wasn’t going to let some unknown infection get the best of her, not in her life.

“Well, Dazai.” Yosano said, reaching out a hand to smooth Dazai’s sweat-soaked hair, ignoring the heat that she felt, even through her glove. Dazai’s eyes focused on her once again. “Let’s see if we can’t get you fixed up.”

Yet, for all her efforts, Dazai continued to get sicker, and sicker. No matter what medicine she pumped him with, no matter how many times she and Kunikida cleaned the wounds, he just continued to waste away right in front of them. And because they weren’t sure how exactly Dazai had contracted the infection, Yosano made the decision to bar everyone but herself and Kunikida from the infirmary whilst they tried to figure it out; a decision that wasn’t well received. Atsushi had tried to force his way past her, desperate to see his mentor, but he’d calmed when Kyouka—bless her—had slid up to him and explained that Yosano wasn’t doing this to be cruel, she just didn’t want them to get sick as well.

Yosano had appreciated it, and promised Atsushi that the moment that Dazai was allowed visitors again, she’d let him know.

The first thing to do, other than manage Dazai’s symptoms, was discover how he’d even contracted the infection in the first place, which meant running through every aspect of Dazai’s life leading up until his collapse; a task made nearly impossible, not from Dazai’s unwillingness to talk, but because he was rarely lucid enough for them to even ask as the infection continued to ravage him. It’d gotten to the point where Yosano started to grow concerned that Dazai would die, so she’d made the decision to amputate his arm in a desperate attempt to stop the infection from spreading.

At first, Kunikida had argued, but he’d quickly given in when Yosano had argued back that at this point, they had nothing to lose.

It was one of the few times where she cursed being unable to use her ability on Dazai.

But after the surgery, Yosano felt nothing but relief when Dazai opened his eyes, and almost immediately cracked a joke about his missing arm, eyes clearer than they had been in a long time. It was almost as if Dazai hadn’t been sick in the first place, and once he’d rested from the surgery, she grilled him on what he’d been doing, what he’d been eating, and who he’d interacted with, but his answers had provided nothing.

All he’d been doing was walking around Yokohama, trying to find the ideal spot to die, nothing out of the ordinary for her eccentric friend.

But since it didn’t seem like Dazai would infect everyone else, Yosano didn’t see an issue with allowing the others to visit Dazai, although she did insist that they all wear masks and gloves just in case.

The last thing she wanted was to deal with an outbreak when she didn’t have a set treatment in mind.

“He’s going to die; you know that right?” Yosano was dragged out of her thoughts by the sound of Ranpo throwing himself up on top of her desk, twirling a lollipop in his hand. The words were harsh, and didn’t match the indifferent expression on Ranpo’s face, but Yosano knew better, knew just how much her oldest friend cared about Dazai.

Yosano sighed and glanced over her shoulder where Dazai was listening to Atsushi talk about his day, a bowl of half-eaten chazuke in his hand. “I know.”

Ranpo hummed. “Are you going to tell them?”

“They already know.” At least, she thought they did. She hoped they did, because if they didn’t… well, she didn’t quite have an answer for that. Yosano let out another sigh, and turned to face Ranpo. “Have you been asked by the police for help.”

“Not yet.” Ranpo said. “It’s only a matter of time though, since people are starting to die now, so I’m sure they’ll come begging for my assistance like they always do.”

“Do you know what’s causing it?”

“Causing it? Not yet. How it spreads? Yes.” Ranpo shoved the lollipop into his mouth, his attention focused on Dazai and the others surrounding him. “It’s through blood-to-blood contact, before you ask.”

Yosano frowned, filing the information away for later to deal with. She’d encountered infections of the blood before, but most of them had some other requirement involved for them to actually infect people; seldom was it as simple as blood-to-blood. But it would make sense for it to be so simply, really. It was common for the deadliest of diseases to be transmitted easily, that was what made them so deadly in the first place. And it didn’t make them easy to cure either.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” Ranpo went on to say. “Dazai will die, but you did what you could, and he knows that. It’s why he’s still smiling, so people can remember him for that instead of rotting away in a bed.”

She didn’t think she’d done nearly enough to try and help, but it was nice of Ranpo to try and offer some comfort to her. She gave him a soft look. “Are you going to be okay? When he dies, I mean?”

Ranpo refused to look at her, his body tense. “It’s not like I have a choice. He’s dying whether I want him to or not.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ll say my goodbyes later once everyone’s gone.” Ranpo hopped of her desk and began to leave, stopping right beside her just long enough to speak quietly. “Just find a cure, okay?”

I will. Yosano thought, going back to her research.

She had to.

But just as Ranpo had predicted, Dazai died.

It was a painful death, it had to be with the way Dazai’s flesh peeled from his skin, leaving nothing but bone. It took days for him to finally pass, the fever finally becoming too much for his body to handle and causing total organ failure. Yosano had done everything she could to help, had tried everything she’d learnt over the years, but none of it had been enough, and in the end, all she could do was sit by Dazai’s bedside with Kunikida beside her, and hold her friends’ hand as he lost the fight to live.

“Don’t mourn me… too much, Yosano-sensei… we all knew I would be… the first to die…”

That was what Dazai had said in his final moment of clarity, and honestly, she wanted to smack him for it. Of course she was going to mourn Dazai, he was her friend, and he’d left a bigger impact on the Agency than he thought he had. He’d brought jokes, and joy, and that weird friendship of his that only Dazai could do, and she, along with everyone else, were going to miss him. She hadn’t cried when he died, too focused on keeping herself composed as she shared the news with those that hadn’t been in the room, and afterwards, there’d been so many tears from everyone else that it didn’t feel right for her to break down too.

But if she shed a few tears over a shared bottle of sake between her and Ranpo, who was to know but them?

After Dazai’s death, Yosano thought that the end of it.

They held a funeral, said their goodbyes, and did their best to push onwards. For a while, work was slow, on account of everyone struggling to cope with the subdued atmosphere, which eventually led to Fukuzawa making the decision to close the Agency for the week, just to give them the time they needed to deal and start healing. A decision that everyone was quick to follow.

Once that week was up, and everyone was back at work, things almost seemed to go back to normal. Well, not normal per se—because there was nothing normal about watching a co-worker and friend slowly waste away—but as normal as it could be. Although, for Yosano, life continued to grow more chaotic. The hospitals, having heard of her encounter with the infection, summoned her to see if she could try to help with the influx of victims, so most of her time was spent there, trying to help, but only watching more people die.

There was still no cure, still no idea on the origin of the infection, only a steadily growing death toll and fear amongst the general population.

And then she walked into the Agency, where she watched Kunikida collapse in front of her, blood spilling from the cracks in his face, and her heart stopped. Not again.

Like with Dazai, Yosano took Kunikida to the infirmary and refused entry to anyone that wasn’t her. She did what she could to get Kunikida’s vitals up, hoping that he would regain consciousness and be able to tell her how he got infected—which she already knew thanks to Ranpo deducing that it was contact with blood, but she needed to know when. Knowing when Kunikida had gotten infected would give them an idea as to how long it took the infection to present itself, and that kind of knowledge was vital in an epidemic.

But Kunikida never woke up.

And Yosano was forced to watch yet another friend die.

It was cruel, it was awful, and Yosano cursed every God that she knew of for allowing the most important people in her life to die from some stupid, incurable infection. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, but right now, she couldn’t. Right now, she had to be strong, had to provide a brave face to show the others that she knew what she was doing, that there was still hope to be had, even though she continued to lose it as the days passed.

Like Dazai, Kunikida’s flesh began to rot away, and honestly, it was a testament to just how much the human body could survive, as Kunikida’s arms were nothing but bone, yet he was somehow still fighting. And even though Kunikida was comatose, she kept him dosed on painkillers, just in case there was a part of him that was hurting; otherwise, she used the time to study the symptoms of the infection, to note how fast it spread and the order it happened in, comparing Kunikida’s suffering to Dazai’s and finding them almost the same.

There were a few variances, but that was expected with infections; everyone was different after all. Everyone’s body reacted to things differently; it was why Kunikida had started bleeding from his face first whilst Dazai rotted.

Not that it made it any less painful to know that.

This time, it was Fukuzawa that sat by her side as Kunikida slowly died in front of her. She appreciated the company, spent most of the time leaning against his shoulder as they sat in silence together. It was obvious from the tension in his face, that he was worried about the way that things were going, and that he felt a little helpless at not being able to do much more than support her. It was probably how the rest of the Agency felt, being trapped outside the infirmary as they were, and she felt guilty that she couldn’t risk allowing them to help her. She just couldn’t risk anyone else getting infected. It was already dangerous enough keeping infected people in the infirmary here, instead of taking them to the hospital like the government was asking of people.

“I’m sorry I can’t save him.” Yosano found herself saying, her voice quiet in the despair of the room. She ducked her head and stared at her hands. Maybe Shunzen was right. Maybe she was an Angel of Death after all, hands bloodied by the bodies of people she tried to save and failed.

Maybe she should just—

“You did what you could.” Fukuzawa interrupted before her thoughts could send her spiralling. He gave her a comforting pat. “Kunikida and Dazai know that.”

“But does everyone else?” Yosano retorted. “I’ve kept them from being here, to keep them safe, but for all I know, they hate me for not doing more!”

“They don’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

Fukuzawa tightened his grip on her, voice firm. “They don’t hate you.”

“But—”

“They don’t.” Fukuzawa insisted. “They merely wish that they could do more to help. Situations like this can leave many feeling helpless and we, are no different. You need not apologise for the decisions you make to keep us safe.”

Yosano bit her lip to keep the apology on the tip of her tongue from escaping, and just gave a single nod. There wasn’t anything more she could say on the matter, not without making Fukuzawa repeat himself. Her eyes rested upon Kunikida’s shivering form; death would come for her friend soon, and she resolved to let him be the last. She would do everything that she could to stop anyone else she cared about from succumbing to this infection.

Two days later, Kunikida died.

And this time, Yosano allowed them to grieve him properly.

She spent hours sterilising the room from top to bottom, removing all traces of blood, and covering the wounds that had killed Kunikida to prevent even the slightest drop of blood from escaping. And only then, once she was sure that the room was as clean as it could be, did she allow everyone to come and say goodbye. Yosano knew she’d done right when Atsushi stepped into the room, took one look at the man that had taken him under his wing, and promptly burst into tears.

She had to leave the room then.

She didn’t go far, just outside into the main office where she leant against the wall, listening through the cracked door as everyone shared their final words with Kunikida, shedding tears over the person that had supported their endeavours at the Agency the most. It warmed her heart to hear such words spoken, she just wished that he hadn’t had to die to hear them. And for the first time in her life, she tried to believe that Kunikida’s spirit was there, along with Dazai’s, watching over them and giving them the strength to continue.

They were going to need it.

In the wake of Kunikida’s death, Yosano found herself being called away from the Agency more often than not, the government and local hospitals hearing of their encounters, however brief, with the infection and wanting to know more about her findings in studying the infection. The people she spoke to sounded hopeful on the phone, and Yosano felt nothing but guilt as she crushed that hope into tiny pieces by being unable to provide any information that wasn’t already known. It also crushed her to know that she hadn’t discovered anything new about the infection, but there was a determination building within her, one born from the desire to not lose anyone else that she considered family.

The television in the Agency was permanently left on, at least one channel always reporting on the status of the infection, updating people on how many were infected and where the worst rate of infection was. As expected, Suribachi City was affected the worst; the ruined city had been cordoned off the moment the public discovered the method of transmission, with no one allowed to enter or leave, no matter what. This caused some argument, and a lot of distress, as it meant that the people trapped within the city were sentenced to a slow and painful death, without any means of relief.

Yosano considered herself capable of controlling her emotions, but after watching two of her oldest friends die to the infection, she couldn’t help but cry over the people in Suribachi City.

Weeks passed, and the situation worsened around them, but the atmosphere within the Agency was a positive one as no one else fell to the infection—mostly due to Fukuzawa’s decision for them to remain indoors unless absolutely necessary. Which wasn’t hard to do considering that in the wake of a deadly infection, people weren’t exactly scrambling for their services. This newfound free time of theirs was spent doing whatever kept their focus off the news; reading, playing games, swapping stories with each other. It was almost as this were just a casual sleepover instead of an attempt to stay safe.

Yosano couldn’t bring herself to relax, going over her notes over and over again until she would collapse at her desk. She couldn’t relax, no matter how many times the others pleaded with her to take a break.

She’d already failed them twice; she wouldn’t do it again.

So of course, the infection made her eat her words.

Rumours began to spread that those suffering from the infection would do their best to seek out contact with others, not because they wanted to infect others, but because the infection took their ability to stay warm. And who was warm but living, healthy, people?

This made the infection more deadly, considering all it took to get infected was the tiniest cut, and naturally, not long after the news had dropped, the death toll began to rose, bring with it, crushing despair and a lack of hope for their situation ever getting better. Yokohama was now in lockdown mode, a last-ditch effort to stop the infection spreading. No one was to leave, even to get supplies, and those that risked it, were left to die in the streets.

The hospitals turned their focus to those that were uninfected, ejecting the victims of the infection onto the streets, breaking their vows to save all lives no matter what, just to try and save who remained. These hospitals swore that they’d focus on finding a cure, and that when they did, the people they threw out would be welcomed back and treated, but it didn’t take a genius to know those were empty words. The infection was killing faster now, spreading even faster to try and take down as many people as it could.

It was a logical decision really, to sacrifice the lives of the few to save the lives of the many, but already, two-quarters of Yokohama’s population was infected, and one-quarter dead, so who were they saving really?

No one, that’s who.

So, Yosano wasn’t surprised when her more empathetic colleagues wanted to help those that had been abandoned, even if it was just venturing out to get people indoors, to get them food and water so that they may stand a chance of pulling through the epidemic. And try as she might, Yosano couldn’t stop them.

Kenji.

Kyouka.

Atsushi.

One by one she watched them die, her heart fracturing as she tried desperately to save them, only to fail. Even Atsushi, who’s skill allowed him to regenerate, succumbed to the infection in the end. But… Yosano learnt something from that, and she kicked herself over not considering it sooner. As Atsushi lay there in the infirmary bed, skin literally melting off of his bones, she watched as his body tried to fix it; the damaged skin would knit back together, as if he’d never been infected in the first place, only for the wounds to reappear days later.

It was an endless cycle, one filled with pain and agony, and ultimately, it ended with Atsushi losing his mind.

At that point, it was just her, Atsushi, Ranpo, and Fukuzawa left in the building. Everyone else was dead. And when Atsushi became infected, Ranpo retreated immediately—not that Yosano could blame her friend, for despite being confronted with death since a young age like she had, it was different when they were people you cared about, and Ranpo had been struggling ever since Dazai first died months back—which left just her and Fukuzawa to do what they could for Atsushi.

No one could tell them that they hadn’t tried, because they had tried so, so hard, to keep Atsushi alive, praying that his body would somehow fight off the infection and a miracle would occur.

But instead of a miracle, a curse came.

The tiger inside Atsushi had always been uncontrollable, and was only placid due to Fukuzawa’s ability making it so. But the infection must’ve broken that connection, because as Atsushi’s healing ability failed, and his flesh rotted worse than it ever had, the tiger broke free. Yosano found herself shoved across the room as the tiger lunged for her and Fukuzawa, and she could only watch as Fukuzawa drew his sword and sliced Atsushi in half.

But not before sinking his teeth into the older man’s arm.

“NO!” Yosano threw herself onto her knees by Fukuzawa’s side, blinking rapidly as if that would make the wound go away. Only a few feet away, did Atsushi lay in his tiger form, eyes wide and dull, devoid of life, and Yosano knew she should do as she did, and take notes on the infection’s progression in the boy, but she couldn’t bring herself to, not when she had to come to term with the fact that she was going to lose the man that rescued and given her a new life.

Her shout must’ve been loud enough to catch Ranpo’s attention from wherever he’d sequestered himself, for she heard the infirmary door open, and the shattering of a ramune bottle seconds later.

And despite the fate that was coming for him, Fukuzawa smiled at them both, covering his wound with a hand. “It will be fine.” He said, voice filled with conviction as it always was. “I believe in the both of you.”

“There’s no cure—”

“We’ll cure it.” Ranpo’s determined words interrupted her own hopeless ones, and Yosano turned towards Ranpo. His eyes slid to look at her briefly, hardened, and devoid of emotion, before flicking back to Fukuzawa. Despite the look on his face, she could hear the pain in his voice. “We’ll cure it, so you better fight, President. You aren’t allowed to die.”

“I will do my best, Ranpo.”

The stakes were higher than ever before, with Fukuzawa infected, not only because of how much he meant to her, but because Ranpo became absolutely unbearable the moment that the man that had saved them both became so ill, he was a far cry from their saviour now. She tried not to snap at her friend when he was short with her, or when he demanded more than she could give, but it was hard not to when it felt like he was about to start biting her neck instead of merely breathing on it with how close he lingered. She understood his distress, was feeling much the same herself, and wanted nothing more than to find a cure to stop Fukuzawa from dying, but there was only so much she could do. Realistically, Yosano had already accepted that Fukuzawa was going to die, had prepared herself for it to happen, but Ranpo hadn't. Like when Fukuzawa had been infected by the Cannibalism skill all those months ago, Ranpo camped out by the older man's bedside, refusing to move, to eat, to sleep, and nothing Yosano said or did could change his mind.

It wasn't until she finally sat down and documented her observations on Atsushi that she finally gained a bit of hope.

Atsushi had only lasted as long as he did because of the regenerative qualities of his ability, and it reminded her of her own ability. She'd never thought to use her ability on the infection, since Dazai was immune to her skill to begin with, and after he’d died, she’d automatically assumed it would be like any other illness, and fail, but perhaps this was different. After all, the infection caused massive wounds, and those were something she could heal. And even if she couldn't cure the infection, perhaps she could buy enough time for a cure to be found. 

Perhaps she would be able to save Fukuzawa.

So as Fukuzawa grew sicker, she fought the urge to amputate his limbs to try and stop the infection. She had to wait for it to take hold more, if she wanted the best chance at defeating it, no matter how much it pained her to do so. It was hard, when the flesh began to melt off his bones, and he gave into the pain he was feeling despite the heavy amount painkillers she supplied.

And finally, the time came for her to use her ability.

It was the first, and only, time she did it, and she watched Fukuzawa's chest fall still, butterflies filling the room, apprehension filling her body as she waited for it to restart. And right where he'd been sitting the entire time, Ranpo sat, clutching Fukuzawa's hand within his own, squeezing tight. His head was ducked so she couldn't see what kind of face he was making, but she could see his lips moving, recognising the words as a prayer—so unlike Ranpo with his usually uncaring nature towards anything spiritual. But dire situations brought out the desperation in even the strongest of people, and Ranpo surely must've reached his limit by now.

Time ticked by, and still, Fukuzawa's chest remained still. 

And then, just as she was about to shatter, she saw it. A breath.

A singular breath.

It was weak and shaky, but it was there, and Yosano dove straight into doctor mode, taking Fukuzawa's vitals, and making sure that he had enough nutrients going into him to keep his body as strong as possible. She didn’t dare believe it, didn’t dare hope in case it was just a lie. But as the day passed by, those breaths grew stronger, and by evening, against the odds of everyone else they’d already lost, Fukuzawa opened his eyes.

"Did you cure it?" Fukuzawa asked. He was tired. Strained. Barely conscious, yet there was pride in his eyes.

"I'm not sure." Yosano admitted, ducking her head. "We'll just have to wait and see. Atsushi regenerated his wounds, but... they would reappear days later."

"Yeah, but Atsushi didn't have your healing ability." Ranpo huffed, looking more alive now that Fukuzawa was awake and talking. Yosano reckoned that if he could’ve, Ranpo would’ve crawled onto the bed right that instant. "You've cured it, I just know it. President's gonna be the first one to fight this stupid infection off, just you watch."

Yosano sincerely hoped that Ranpo was right.

And as the days passed, with Fukuzawa appearing to grow stronger, Yosano's hope began to return, along with a little optimism. She’d cured it. Every day, she checked Fukuzawa over, and every day, there were no wounds. But still, she held her breath, just in case it was false hope, and the infection was simply waiting to make a comeback. 

She’d cured it.

A week passed by with no changes, just growth, and Fukuzawa was able to get out of bed, taking his first steps since becoming infected. And this time, she cried. Because she'd done it. She’d cured it—she'd cured the infection, and all she'd had to do was use the ability that she'd once despised. Fukuzawa held her close, whispering quiet words of reassurance, telling her that he was proud of her perseverance. After that, she pulled away, smiling, and Ranpo took her place, throwing himself at the President and finally unleashing his own tears that he'd been holding back for months.

"I'm going to grab some food from downstairs. If you can eat something, I'll contact the hospital and tell them that I've managed to cure it." Yosano said, leaving Fukuzawa and Ranpo alone in the infirmary as she made her way to the storage area, where they'd stocked up on food before needing to isolate—thanks to Atsushi. She couldn't help but feel excited, moving with a skip in her step. Even though she was still upset at not being able to save her friends and co-workers, being able to save Fukuzawa had given her hope. There was no doubt in her mind that she would miss them for as long as she lived. All of them had left an impact on her, however long or short they'd been in her life for. Her heart clenched, but she forced the feeling away. There would be time to mourn after they'd stopped the infection running rampant.

And mourn she would.

She'd grabbed a decent amount of food, enough to host a small party that she believed was well deserved after everything they’d been through, and was just heading up the stairs when she heard a loud crash, and her heart stopped dead in its tracks.

"YOSANO!"

Like lightning, Yosano bolted up the stairs, the food in her hands falling to the floor, but she didn't care. That'd been Ranpo's voice, and he'd sounded terrified. Ranpo was never scared, never fearful, never terrified, which was how she knew it was bad. Yosano threw open the main door to the Agency, and dashed over to the infirmary, grateful that she'd left that door open when she'd left.

And then froze.

Red. That was all she could see. There was so much of it over the floor, over everything, that you almost wouldn't believe that the room had once been white. And in amongst the red, Yosano saw a petrified green; Ranpo, covered in more blood than she'd ever seen on him before. There was so much of it that she felt nauseous, a hand coming to cover her mouth, her arm wrapping around her stomach. Ranpo was holding onto something—no, someone.

Fukuzawa.

She hadn’t cured it.

"He just—" Ranpo tried to say, only to choke on his words. He raised a hand and stared at the blood, shocked. Whatever had happened had been fast, too fast for his genius brain to comprehend. Yosano could see it kicking into gear though, and she wanted to cry. "I don't know what happened—he was talking, and then—and then he was on the ground."

Yosano threw herself onto her knees beside the two of them, jamming her hand into Fukuzawa's neck only to recoil as the flesh sunk beneath her touch. What...?

Now that she was close enough, she could see that the wounds she'd cured had returned, but worse than before. Fukuzawa’s hands were nothing but bone, the skin and muscle sliding off his skeleton even in death. Where his skin remained, it was soft, sinking in places almost as if the elder’s insides were liquifying themselves. Where Ranpo clutched at his mentor, his hands left bruising imprints—although upon closer inspection, Yosano saw that the skin had actually broken, and was literally falling off around her friend’s grip.

And his face—his face—

It was cracked and split all over, blood and what looked to be brain matter oozing out of the cracks.

Fukuzawa was dead before he'd even hit the ground.

"I'm sorry, Ranpo, I'm so sorry." Yosano sobbed, bowing her head. She should've known it was too good to be true, should've known that it wasn't as simple as just using an ability. Why would it ever work that way? It wasn’t like it had worked before for her. And now Fukuzawa was gone, leaving just her and Ranpo as the sole survivors of this cursed infection.

"I'm sorry too." Came the shaky response, and Yosano lifted her head to look at Ranpo in confusion, uncertain as to why he was apologising when there hadn't been anything he could've done in the first place.

But then Ranpo lifted his hand, covered in Fukuzawa's blood, and through that blood, Yosano could see a cut.

A tiny cut, but a cut all the same.

And Yosano's heart shattered.

Please…

… no more.

[muses-inn]

[🚀] Crash landing was certainly not part of Zitz' top ten of the day. Needless to say, he's in a surly mood as they stand in front of the wreckage that was once their leased spaceship. How is he going to explain that? They'll never get out of their depths that way. "Yeaaah well, that ship is trash", Rash states in the same unremarkable tone as if he just announced rain for the rest of the day, which earns him a sharply hissed "Thanks for pointing out the unmistakable, Captain Obvious" from their enraged leader. The sunglasses one merely shrugs to that. "Hey, I didn't think that guy would actually shoot us down, okay? I was just kiddin', man!" "What else did you think that guy would do after you told him that we're going to arrest him for space-littering? Our LEASED ship was not made for 'getting shot down by a mercenary-fighter-class ship', MAN!"

"Hey, I told you, let's lease the ship with guns, but you said 'Noooo'--"

"Uhm, guys? We're having company." To Pimple's rather distressed comment, the other toads now turn around to see that they're indeed being watched. Eavesdropped, even? Zitz quickly flashes a very awkward grin. Add stress now to his anger and annoyance, it doesn't mix well.

"Oh, heh-- hiiiii. We, uh, we didn't just crash land on something that was yours, right? Look, we're kinda sorta flat-broke at the moment, but we can pay you for any damage in maybe ten years?"

@outofthiisworld (for Doc) / SC

[justjams2003]

So many allergies

I am hard at work with my studies and also the Galaxy of Stars series. But while you guys wait for all that, here is a little one-shot for my girlies with way too many allergies.

Pairing: Thor x little!reader

Summary: During a party, you become small and eat something you shouldn’t and have an allergic reaction. Thor has to come in and save the day

Warnings: Little!reader, needles (epi-pen), fluff

Word Count: 600

The first time Thor heard about your allergies; he’d felt so bad. It had been one of the first times you were little around him and had completely forgotten to tell him about your 6 different allergies. You’d been just too excited to have a daddy after all this time. However, the rest of the avengers were quite used to it.  

“What are you eating, sweet pea?” Nat asks, watching you swing your legs back and forth, while sitting at the bar table. You give your big doe eyes to the red-haired women and grin like never before. “Daddy gave me ice-cream and some juice! He said I’ve been a good girl.” Even if you were grinning like crazy, Nat could already see the red rash coat your chin.  

You are entirely unaware of the complete look of terror on her face. “Okay, baby, I’m going to take this away and get you some of your special cookies. And some ice-tea, okay?” You give a pout, “No, daddy said I get ice-cream!” You’re ready to throw a fit, crossing your arms in defiance. Thor had said you’d been such a good girl, all week too!

“I know that, but aren’t you feeling itchy?” She questions, already plating your new snacks. You can only roll your eyes at her, because it’s true. You can feel the coughing fits coming on, your chin itchy and your tummy already felt funny. “Where is your daddy?” She asks, knowing she needs to get some allergy meds.  

You just shrug, nibbling on your specially made cookie. “Baf’oom.” Exactly where the pills are.  

After Nat had properly scolded Thor, he had memorized each one of your allergies. He also made sure that either he or one of the Avengers were the ones too be feeding you when you are small. But it was a party and you hadn’t been little all day and to be honest, he was just a bit tipsy. After all, he brought his own mead.  

“Daddy, I feel funny.” You tug on his denim jacket. At the beginning of the night, you looked ravishing in the lowcut dress you were wearing. But now all he can see is your soft, flushed cheeks and just how uncomfortable you looked. What was worse, is the red rash covering your lightly swollen neck.  

He immediately sets his drink down, picks you up and places you on the coach. “Oh, my babygirl, what did you eat?” His eyes search around to see a waiter carrying away an empty tray of plates. “Um...” You let out a heavy cough and scratch at your inflamed neck.  

“My poor girl,” he mutters, pulling out his emergency epi-pen, from his jacket. Then placed the jacket over your shoulders. “Look away, my little one, this is going to hurt.” His sweet voice is so soothing, you barely even notice when he pierced the needle into your thigh. Nat had showed him how earlier.  

He sighs with relief, hearing you breathe a little easier. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” your lip quivers, knowing you just broke the most important rule he has. You can see in his beautiful blue eyes just how stressed he looks. “It’s alright, my little girl, we’ll talk about it when we get home. How does that sound?” You can only nod as he wipes away your tears.  

Thor then scoops you up into his arms. His big jacket covering you up, as he says goodbye to his friends. Both of you weren’t even finished saying your farewells before you fell asleep in his arms.  

[theemporium]

I don’t like my first winter break silly season that was stressful 😣 is this what it’s always like I broke out in a rash and I thought Logan resigning to Williams was rough I feel like a war veteran

BSHBSJSBSJSBSJSBS😭oh honey, there there

[strandnreyes]

You know, sometimes i sit and reminisce over the early days of season 3 where we went through about 20 theories of how tarlos broke up with them either drifting apart, carlos not talking about his PTSD fire stress and how it was probably going to take a lot of the season for them to get back together and rebuild their foundation --then Push aired and it was really, this idiot bought them a whole ass loft and this other idiot got rightfully pissed and just ignored him for 3 months.

I just remember how anxious I was and then when TK said what happened, I was like - you dumb beautiful idiots. AND WE LIVED HAPPILY EVERY AFTER through TK aliving himself to get back together with Carlos.

that was a LONG 4 weeks... them putting that one week off in there? cruel.

I actually love the reason they broke up so much. it was a situation where the blame couldn't be dumped entirely on one person and that's what I was hoping for. though we don't know for sure what happened during season 2 and 3, i think the reactions to the fire (specifically Carlos') probably did indirectly contribute to the breakup. he went from living in his own place to under his boyfriend's dad's roof and I have no doubt that he wanted to look for places and get them out of there as soon as possible. maybe that was part of his reason for wanting that loft then and there. It was a place TK loved so much and it was something Carlos could do to fix the whole situation that was so out of his control. anyway... off topic but those two made a couple of separate, rash decisions and it was easy for them to find their way back to each other when they finally talked about it

I was definitely someone who did not want them to take a lot of the season to get back together (and I didn't think that would really happen with how much emphasis cast and crew were putting on the 'finding their way back to one another' part of the storyline). we only get so many episodes to begin with and I prefer as much tarlos being together during them as we can get. personally, I would've hated going half a season with them barely talking (season 1 flashbacks...)

having the ice storm start with everyone split up and estranged and then ending it with the firehouse being rebuilt and tarlos back together was a perfect way to wrap up that multi-episode emergency. the snow was melting, people were happy and healing, it was a rebirth and so lovely.

[mountsmase]

ex to lovers pls... after you broke up with mason you have to moved out, but after a week you still can't find a place to live so you have to stay a bit longer at masons (idk if this is make sense 😂😂😂) if you want to change it its fine

okay I love this 🤭 I got a bit carried away so this is a long one 👀 it’s nearly 2k words but it’s far from a fic so it’s very unedited 😅

maybe you’ve been in a relationship for a couple of years and you’ve moved up to Manchester with him but things have become a bit rocky, with the stress of moving and finding a new job along with all of his injuries and busy training schedule, you’ve just been drifting apart a little bit. And a lot of the time you do get to spend together you spend arguing, the stress becoming too much and causing you both to become snappy and argumentative over the stupidest little things like who has to cook dinner or why the house was a bit messy when you got home from work.

And I hate to make Mason the bad guy but he decides that maybe it’s time you both go your separate ways because it’s showing no sign of improving and it’s not good for either of you to be living with that tension.

It breaks his heart into a million pieces because he loves you with everything he has but he wants you to be happy, and he believes that you’ll be happier else where, he doesn’t think he can give you what you deserve whilst so much is going on with his injuries, and the constant fighting is killing him, so it makes sense to him to cut it off (silly bastard). 💔

You’re heart broken, wanting to fix it more than anything and you’re frustrated beyond belief that he doesn’t seem to want to atleast try and fix things, but you don’t fight him on it, convincing yourself that maybe he’s right and some time apart will do you some good no matter how much it hurts 😢

He would never, ever, just kick you out though. Letting you stay with him for as long as you need because at the end of the day it’s still your home, and he still loves and respects you enough to not just throw you out and expect you to find your own way when he’s the one who put you in that situation in the first place.

Maybe you’d stay with a friend for the first couple of days, not being too keen on staying with Mason when he’s just broken up with you but you can’t stay there forever, and after a few nights of sleeping on their couch you end up going back to Masons house, what used to be your home, and you sleep in the guest room until you figure out another arrangement.

Mason regrets breaking up with you almost straight away. As soon as he had a chat with Lewis and came to his senses he was slapping himself for how he handled things with you and hates himself for his rash decision making that led you to the situation you’re in now.

Every time he sees you around the house he can feel his heart break a little more (if that’s even possible) and he struggles to sleep for weeks knowing that you’re just across the hallway but he can’t just come and climb into bed with you, he lost those privileges and he has no one to blame but himself. It’s obviously incredibly hard for you too, being somewhere that reminds you so much of your relationship and the life you built together whilst knowing that you may never get to experience that again, that maybe you’ve lost Mason for good.

You get into a ‘good’ routine, with him going to training and then coming home, disappearing into the home gym for a few hours before going into his gaming room where he’d spend the rest of the night, only coming out to get some dinner before going to bed. And you’d limit yourself to your bedroom and the little cinema room you have, keeping to yourself so that you don’t have to face him. You’re civil together though, there’s no hostility between the two of you and whenever you do see him you have a little chat and there’s loads of small talk, it’s just really awkward and uncomfortable, but you do a pretty good job of avoiding him, not wanting to experience the pain you feel every time you see him so you stay out of the way.

Until one night, maybe it’s about 1 or 2am and you’re unable to sleep so you pop down stairs to get a glass of water and just as you’re about to walk out of the kitchen, Mason walks in, dressed in only a pair of joggers and you hate the way your tummy flutters from seeing him without a shirt on. He was struggling to sleep as well, his mind flooded with thoughts and regrets, just like yours is, after a conversation with you that afternoon that lasted longer than usual. The bags under his eyes are evident and your heart hurts at the thought of him not sleeping well.

You smile at him out of politeness and go to continue your way upstairs, but he grabs your wrist - the gentle touch sending goosebumps over your skin after weeks of no physical contact with him - and pulls you back towards him, your back becoming flush to his chest and you’re left speechless, not quite knowing what to do or say but he breaks the silence first by mumbling a quite ‘Can we talk?’ into your hair. You of course agree, having craved his company for the last few weeks and wanting to talk to him even if it doesn’t end well.

He leads you into the living room, putting your water along with a glass for himself down onto the coffee table before collapsing onto the sofa with you sitting right next to him. Its the closest you’ve been to him in what feels like forever, and curiosity takes over when you notice the look of hesitation in his eyes, like he wants to say something but doesn’t quite know where to start. You prompt him with a simple ‘What’s the matter?’, not liking how small your voice sounds but that’s all he needs to begin speaking. He asks you to let him say everything he needs to say without interrupting him, needing to just get it all out before he decides against it, and you agree, taking his hand in yours when he begins talking and his eyes fill with tears.

Seeing you in the kitchen, dressed in actual pjs rather than one of his shirts with your tired eyes and sleepy smile, finally gave him the courage he needed to speak to you and he gets it all out, telling you how sorry he is and how much he regrets everything and the way he handled it all. He tells you why he thought he should cut it off and the reasons he now hates himself for doing it. He tell you how much he loves you and how he needs you in his life like he needs oxygen, which pulls a giggle from you, before going on to ask for your forgiveness and promising that he will make the effort to do better and be better for you if you decide to give him another chance.

When he finishes he’s out of breath, tears soaking each of your cheeks and it takes you a few minutes to digest everything he’s just told you, thinking it all through although deep down you know that you can’t ever say no to him, the last month has been hell living with him but without him at the same time, and you don’t want to continue living a life that doesn’t have him in it.

You’re not really sure what to say so you let your actions speak for you, leaning further into him and wrapping yourself around him whilst his arms come around your middle and hold you tight. Your hands cup his jaw, brushing away the tears that stain his cheeks and you kiss a path down from his forehead to his nose before finally landing on his lips. He melts into you, kissing you back instantly and pouring all of his emotions into it. The kiss speaks louder than words ever could but you need to tell him how you feel as well so you reluctantly pull away, leaving one last peck to his cheek before sitting back and looking up at him.

You tell him how you’re sorry too, that you both had your issues and he’s not to blame for the breakup considering that you had both done things that led up to it. You tell him that you appreciate how he just wanted what was best for you but how bad it hurt that he went about it the way that he did, that the last few weeks have been the worst weeks of your life and that you forgive him for everything, that maybe the break was what you needed to realise that what you have together isn’t worth throwing away over a little rough patch. You both promise to do better, promising to communicate with eachother and speak about what’s going on in your lives rather than hiding it and letting it get to the point of arguments, you agree that maybe you should both take some time away from work and the chaos that is real life, deciding to plan a holiday for just the two of you once the season is over and you can get away for a little bit, needing that quality time more than anything.

There’s a lot more tears and loads of kisses, holding eachother close and not wanting to let go until you begin to fall asleep on the sofa and decide it’s probably time to head to bed. He carries you upstairs, back into his bedroom, your bedroom, and places you down onto your side of the bed, letting you climb under the covers whilst he gets himself comfy on his side and the second he’s settled your crawling over to him, snuggling into his arms and giving him one final kiss before falling asleep almost instantly with him not far behind you, both feeling content and relaxed in eachother’s arms for the first time in what feels like forever.

[kitsumidori]

BL3 Remix/Siren Song Lore Post

I couldn't think of a better way to title this but basically this is the rewrite I've been working on for quite awhile and I think it's good enough to post

The majority of the story is somewhat still intact with a few key differences. (More under the cut)

Pre-BL3 

Angel ended up surviving the Control Core assault but was left in critical condition, Lilith helped with her recovery to the point that she became Angel's new mom.

The Calypso twins are not sirens, instead they are Eternals and decided to impersonate as siren's to trick the masses into joining their cult, going so far as covering their rashes with makeup and making fake siren tattoos.

Ava is instead the phaseleach siren and actually came to Pandora because of a strange voice telling her to.

(This would take place when she was 10, so 3 years before BL3's story took off.)

Maya ended up staying in Pandora instead of going back to Athenas since after giving some thought, Athenas maybe her birth home, but all she remembers is being sheltered for most of her life and being used as a threat.

Like in canon, Maya takes Ava in, but more as a daughter rather than just an apprentice.

Tannis is still a siren like in canon, however since Angel is still alive with her powers still intact, Tannis has a different ability rather than phaseshift.

(That being called Phasesight)

Borderlands 3

Pandora 1

The Calypso's did to ambush Lilith, however Tyreen leached her a lot longer than canon, to the point where Lilith was left in a coma 

Fiona is here. While rebuilding the raider, Vaughn recommended a few people he knew with one of them being Fiona and let's just say that she and Lilith became more than just allies.

Fiona was at first staying in Pandora, but after Lilith was attacked she didn't want to leave her side and force herself into the ship while also in complete hysteric 

Prometheus 

Lor’s character is slightly altered, mainly his aggressiveness is toned down and he's way less rude that how he is in canon (still a bit stressed though)

Sasha's here, Malawan believed that she'd disappeared but in reality she was in hiding sabotaging Malawan’s plans.

Athenas

Mostly the same in canon instead with Ava tagging along with the Vault Hunter's since Maya did promise her that she can do a mission as long as she keeps her tattoos hidden from the monks and she'd stick with the Vault Hunter's.

Maya refuses to even step foot on Athenas, she only left the ship when she found out how to open the Anchorhold.

Shortly before, she found out that she was never abandoned by her parents, but was kidnapped by Sophis.

Prometheus 2

The storyline is the same as canon up until the vault of the Rampager.

Troy attempted to leach Maya's powers, but failed miserably and was stop by one of the Vault Hunter's

Maya survived with her powers intact and only suffered a broken wrist.

Troy…wellllll….he ended up getting shot in the head by Moze, killing him instantly (at first...)

This was also when the raiders found out that the Calypso were Eternals.

Before all that, Maya was (attempting) to scold at Ava for putting herself in danger, but after Troy's attempt to kill Maya failed, his subsequent death and the twin's true status revealed, Ava bolted back to the ship and locked herself in her cabin.

Before she had tried to stop Ava, Maya noticed something that the kid dropped. It was a brand new Maliwan corrosive SMG with a note from Ava explaining that she was doing a little snooping and found both the blueprints and developers notes on said gun with the majority of the notes involving Maya's cloud kill ability.

What broke Maya’s heart the most was what's on the keychain ring, it was a tag that said To: Mom, Love ya🩵 From: Ava

This was the first time Ava called her mom…….and she felt like she'd ruined it……

After that, the rest of the BL2 vault hunters join Sanctuary lll and let's just say…..they were pissed.

There basically family at that point and if you go after family, your making it personal

While everyone is arguing on what to do if they came across Tyreen again, Krieg kept silent, brainstorming with himself on what to do with that rat boy's sister if he sees her again.

Due to what happened before, Maya was out of commission (both mentally and emotionally) for awhile

Eden-6

By the time of the Eden-6 arc, Tyreen used her powers to revive Troy (basically the unused Evil Troy design)

Aurelia is still working with the raiders and is undercover, joining the C.O.V to get more info.

Troy still has a weird thing for her but unlike canon……she's not interested in him and think he's a creep (that and she straight up told him that she's a lesbian)

Pandora 2

Prior to Tannis’s capture by the C.O.V, she and Fiona have started to become closer, Tannis also admits that while she's happy for Lilith and Fiona, she can't help but feel a little jealous.

Maya and Ava were able to reconcile, Maya even gave Ava her old Hellfire SMG, to which she was stoked about.

The boss battle with Troy ends a little differently, instead of dying he tries to leach one of the VH's but was instead leached by Ava, leaving him on the brink of death.

Before she fucked of to somewhere else, Tyreen leached what's left of Troy, so some part of him is still with her.

Nekrotefayo 

The raiders still meet Typhon, but instead of how it played out in canon, everyone stops seeing him in a good light not only after learning that he's the father of the Calypso's, but that he's the reason on why the twins act like that and how casually he talks about his shitty parenting.

Maya and Krieg hated him instantly, not only for the fact that the only thing that Typhon values about his late wife involved sex, but also talked about it in front of a 13 year old.

Tannis still admired Typhon at first, but she started to see the cracks and is now both embarrassed and disgusted at all the praise she gave him.

Lilith had since awoken from her coma and wanted to join the Vault Hunter's trip to Nekrotefayo, much to the displease of the other raiders.

And let's just say that it's taking every amount of her strength to not straight up kill Typhon.

The raiders then realized that Typhon was a huge liar and that he was never a vault hunter.

The vault on Nekrotefayo was already opened by the time he and his wife Leda arrived, the shit he said on his audio logs either never happened or were grossly exaggerated, but most damningly he stole Tannis’s research notes from her early days on Pandora and claimed that he open the vault of the Destroyer.

While Typhon was restraining Tyreen, something in Lilith snapped and……she ended up murdering Typhon…….

Pandora 3

From then on the storyline is the same as canon, up until the final cutscene where Lilith sacrifices herself after getting her powers back.

Instead of dying or going MIA, she survived thanks to the Watcher, but was gravely injured.

Once she has recovered, she announces that she's retiring and is making Maya the new leader of the Crimson Raiders.

Tyreen miraculously survived the battle. Everyone believes she's dead and she'd like to keep it that way.

[sparkylurkdragon]

Lately my stress dreams have had the same theme of "Weird Shit Goes Down With The Neighbours And Landlord." For a sample:

There was a great digging with many big digger vehicles out where the rock garden is in front of the office. The dirt was piled so high kids were sledding down it. Was there snow? Sometimes. The construction also involved removing all the doors and all the screens on the windows. Urist got out during the chaos and I spent most of a daynight (it was unclear) frantically looking for her amongst the Digging.

There was a rash of thievery amongst the tenants. After being yelled at, the landlord's solution was to tear down all the walls separating the apartments and make us have a 'market' where we reclaimed our stolen goods.

This one was just this morning. More theft! Someone broke into my apartment and stole a single article of clothing, but left a pile of clothes in the bathtub, including a winter jacket. Pissed off, I went outside to yell at the landlord, where I discovered that I had apparently not been the only one targeted. I didn't find out what the solution would be this time, but there was a clear vision of crowbar marks in logs. What these had to do with anything was not clear.

[tundrakatiebeanart]

I was so stressed this morning that I actually broke out into a stress rash and considered not streaming but I’m so glad I did. I did this great art piece that had a lot of meaning for me and my chat really cheered me up today. Y’all make me feel seen and loved every time I stream and in ways I couldn’t anticipate! Thanks so much everyone! I’ll post the story behind this art another time!

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Dragon Reborn! Chapter 35: The Falcon

I keep forgetting about spoiler warnings. Spoiler warnings: everything. The whole book series. Seriously I discuss events from the last book multiple times in this.

We're once again starting a chapter with the waves icon because our characters are in urgent need of a boat in the middle of the night due to the rash actions of a male protagonist.

Screaming, they rushed upon us from the crowding brush. In a breath they were in our midst, their spears stabbing, slaying two of my best men and one of Gann’s immediately.

Three instant deaths is probably true, so some points to Orban for that.

Ogier really must have stopped in Remen at some time in the past, for the innkeeper had also found a wooden armchair that fit Loial, and filled it with cushions.

Well, it's on the banks of a major river in the middle of the continent. There were probably a lot of Ogier who'd use this route after the Ways went dark, possibly even during that period if they needed to get somewhere that was a distance from the nearest stedding or major city. The fact that Remen isn't a bigger place despite being where a trade road crosses a major river speaks to the slow breakdown of civilization that's been going on throughout the Third Age.

I must have known I would not be staying. I don’t seem to leave any mark behind me, of late.

An ironic statement, considering the social upheaval Perrin leaves in his wake. He's almost as bad as Rand at times, but he's not following himself so he doesn't get to appreciate that.

There was only one stableman on duty, a narrow-faced fellow in a dirty shirt, with lanky gray hair, who demanded to know who Perrin was to order four horses saddled, and who was his master, and what he was doing all bundled up to travel in the middle of the night, and did Master Furlan know he was sneaking off like this, and what did he have hidden in those saddlebags, and what was wrong with his eyes, was he sick?

I'm actually a little surprised that Master Furlan didn't warn this guy that there was a lady staying at the inn with a burly manservant. Even the bit characters on the Light side can't communicate!

“I am only fixing the mood in my head,” Loial said, sounding formal. Or perhaps defensive. “For my book. I have to put it all in. I believe I am coming to like it. Adventuring. Of course, I am.”

Loial is a vocal worrier, so he's trying to vent all his stress out now while there's time. Perrin, like Rand, tries to internalize his emotions, so he doesn't like talking about how shitty his day-to-day (night-to-night?) is.

Perrin kept a close eye on the horses, talking to them; horses had little tolerance for the unusual, such as being lifted into the air, but even the Warder’s stallion seemed soothed by his murmurs.

It's little things like this that show Perrin is really a friend to all living things, not just good at politicking with humans or running with wolves.

As the last line was tossed ashore and seized by a dockman, a girl in narrow, divided skirts burst out of the shadows between two warehouses, a bundle in her arms and a dark cloak streaming behind her. She leaped onto the deck just as the men at the sweeps began pushing off.

Since I'm already doing parallels this chapter, maybe I should be trying to find further Mat/Faile parallels than just their methods of boarding ships. My initial instinct of course is that this is crack theorizing, but Mat sounds the Horn at the beginning and she hands it to Olver at the end, so maybe there's something deeper here! (Probably not though.)

She was about his own age, he decided; he could not decide if her nose fit her face, or dominated it.

She's actually three years younger than he is, though they're just getting to the age where three years isn't so big a gap as all that. Well, he is anyway.

“The townsfolk think the Aielman chewed through the chain, or broke it with his bare hands. They had not decided which when I left.” She made a sound suspiciously like a giggle. “Orban was quite loud in his disgust that his wounds would keep him from hunting down the Aielman personally.”

Faile is crushing so hard. Perrin is oblivious.

He eyed her sideways. She spoke of fighting and killing as calmly as another woman might speak of baking. He had never heard of any Great Blackwood, but the Forest of Shadows lay just south of the Two Rivers.

As a general's noble daughter off on a epic quest, it makes sense that Faile doesn't see combat as any big thing. Perrin though, I think is suspicious that she's trying to verify that he's from the Two Rivers specifically, what with being surrounded by enemies who want him and his two bros dead. So good instincts, Perrin, even if you are barking up entirely the wrong tree.

“Only you free a caged Aielman, hold a long talk with him, then help him chop a dozen Whitecloaks into sausage. I assume you do this regularly; you certainly looked as if it were nothing out of the ordinary for you. I scent something strange in a party of travelers such as yours, and strange trails are what Hunters look for.”

Faile, meanwhile, is doing a great job at trampling all over Perrin's triggers. "You look like you kill a dozen people a day and it probably doesn't even bother you! I bet your favorite thing in the world is that axe, you probably should get rid of that hammer." Also note that her instincts aren't just correct in the immediate sense (this group having been in possession of the Horn recently) but again, she ends up guarding the Horn all the way at the end.

“Nimble fingers and nimble wits will take you a good deal further than a sword and muscles. Sharp eyes help, as well, but fortunately, I have these things.”

I suppose this is something she has in common with Mat as well but so far I'm still thinking is a fool's errand. With so large a cast, you're going to get people doubling up on fighting styles, and other than her jovial attitude right now she's not got much else to work with.

“And modesty, as well,” Perrin murmured. She did not seem to notice.

Oh sure and then I turn the page and the very next sentence makes me into a fool by showing her getting the same general lack of respect Mat gets.

She frowned at him—he had the feeling she did not give up a scent once she had raised it, but he was ready to offer her as many side trails as she would take—then said, “Have you ever heard of Manetheren?”

Yeah, this is actually the most suspicious conversation Perrin's had in a long, long time.

But there were other nations, other cities, in the Mountains of Mist, so old that not even Aes Sedai remember them. And think of all those stories about it being bad luck to enter the mountains. What better place for the Horn to be hidden than in one of those forgotten cities.

Oh and she wants to loot cursed ruins that only an idiot would seek out in the first place. Dammit jokes about parallels, you aren't supposed to be REAL.

“We are just travelers on our way to Illian, girl. What is your name? If I have to share this ship with you for days yet, I can’t keep calling you girl.”

Note that Perrin makes no attempt to introduce himself, which is another good instinct around dangerous strangers who seek him out and ask about the Two Rivers but actually kinda dickish in light of the conversation he's really having.

“I call myself Mandarb.” He could not stop the guffaw that burst out of him. Those tilted eyes regarded him with heat. “I will teach you something, farmboy.” Her voice remained level. Barely.

Perrin's not super great at smelling emotions yet, so let's note his impression of Faile here before he gets a cheat sheet: she's clearly upset that he's laughing at her name, but managing to stay calm.

She looked so crestfallen that he hastened to say, “I like the name Zarine. It suits you.” The heat flashed back into her eyes, and for a moment he thought she was about to produce one of her knives again.

Now she's embarrassed that the dude she crushes on is more fond of her parents' image of her than he is of the one she's trying to make for herself. Stabbing him wouldn't prove anything. (Also note that he only consciously worries about her stabbing him for the dumbest of reasons.) (Also note that Mat's love interest also has troubles with his name GODDAMMIT.)

“Farmboy! Perhaps I will call myself Faile. My father used to call me that, when I was little. It means ‘falcon.’ ”

Poor Perrin just got his first taste of self-fulfilling prophecy. Frankly he deserves it after laughing so hard at this poor girl.

Next time: Perrin has a bad dream!

[sapphosboy]

That was so stressful I broke out in hives and a stress rash, I’m not even kidding. My arms and hands are bright red right now lol

[nopointic]

Why YOU (yes YOU!) should purchase a READING from the ever so lovely @ancientgoddessofegypt.

super duper extra cool! how cool?

ICE COLD! cool!

my readings? i buy them and then wait and when they arrive i'm like LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo and i'm getting out the good ink pens (pink and purple of course) and writing things DOWN and nodding like i am on front row at fashion week reporting for a fashion magazine that's ECO FRIENDLY aka it's A BLOG (why am i not in the back designing i dunno, must be a glitch but let's go with that THAT)

i read my cards, i ponder, my goddesses watch me ponder, and then i go I HAVE AN IDEA. i want a second opinion. TEAM WORK MAKES THE DREAM WORK BABEY!

fast fast fast GOOD VIBES readings like i literally feel BAD i am asking her for help but my cards and everyone is telling me GIRL ASK FOR HELP YOU DESERVE THAT and i went you know what... a little scrolling will do.

I scrolled and then went WHERE IS MY CASH APP LOGIN

i asked if i could get a reading and she said YES!

i went woah this is happening i am in the presence of PINK SPARKLY HEART EMOJI AURANESS RIGHT NOW I CAN NOT DROP THE BATON RIGHT NOW

i send in my lil ponderings and end up spilling more to her than my therapist and went ok, i gotta get back into THERAPY PRONTO and PICK MYSELF

and i have.

and it's hard.

i am the girl who will pack several umbrellas in several colors to coordinate with your outfit and then say don't worry about me, it's wash day. (it's always wash day in my hair world i really do side eye my ancestry results and go, well well well look what i found HERE)

i have been throwing Maury dna results at family members for weeks now but i'm gonna be aight i did not watch Maury all them years and learn nothing. i went hmmmm THE LIE DETECTOR SAID ACCORDING TO MY RESULTS AND THESE PICTURES I FOUND!

and then i broke out into a stress rash and ate rice

my cat purred extra hard but the point is

GLASSES UP (mine has lavender green tea y'all can have some if you want in spirit i am NOT stingy cos i love dunking a tea bag and thinking i am helping i do enjoy that activity ngl) to @ancientgoddessofegypt

anyways i love you more than the hours Usher was talking about when he was begging for forgiveness and sliding around on his knees like you know damn well we were not allowed to slide around in our good jeans like that so i knew he really meant he was sorry when he did that but that has nothing to do with this i s2g it doesn't, i just wanted to give my takes on him doing THAT while saying that number.

i really do bring up fiddy leven bajillion hours umteem minutes etc when saying love.

anyways this gif of mariah carey with champagne is the energy that @ancientgoddessofegypt has like she just GETS it.

[ilguna]

Hi! Congratulations on 2k followers. Could I request #15 for spin the bottle with Johanna Mason please.

☼ queen of aspen (Johanna Mason) ☼

warnings; swearing, gore, death mention, murder.

wc; 2.8k

prompt; 15. Royalty AU

–

Ever since you inherited the role of Queen at the young age of sixteen, there’s been nothing but trouble. 

Of course, you hadn’t expected it to be easy. You knew there were quite a lot of responsibilities that went into it, but there’s a lot more than you remember. When you were younger, you’d follow your mother around the castle, and she’d tell you the duties of being a Queen. The list was long and tiring, it was like this, though.

It’s not about the control of the kingdom that’s the hardest part. In fact, you could manage outside of the castle with your eyes closed, if you wished. The people are the easiest to please, especially since, compared to your parents and your ancestors before them, you’re a very lax ruler of the people.

It’s inside of the castle that’s beginning to turn your hair grey and give you stress rashes. From what you’ve observed, half of the servants—knights, maids, the ladies-in-waiting—are not being cooperative with one another, much less with you. It could be the change of power, your father had been a very respected man. No one dared to put a toe out of line, in fear that they’d be punished faster than they could run.

You’re not sure how, but at some point in time, they got it in their heads that you wouldn’t control them like your father, which has since created a number of problems. When you make orders, they aren’t to test your newfound power, it’s because you need them to carry out their jobs without the incessant whining and the rebellion.

Lately, you’ve put your foot down several times, and despite being disrespected, which would usually result in public humiliation, imprisonment, or being escorted out of the northern region, the worst you’ve done is relieve them of their jobs. If they can’t carry out a simple request, then that makes you believe that you need to get someone who will appreciate their job, instead of staring at you, as if you’re going to change your mind.

They seem to have forgotten that you’re Queen of Aspen now. You’re no longer a Princess, which means that what you command is word, and nothing less than.

Fortunately, you think that they’ve situated themselves enough to realize this fact, just in time for the annual convention in the neighboring kingdom to take place. You’re very grateful, especially since you gave your word to the King of Tethys last winter that you’d be there in the summer.

King Finnick, or just Finnick, since he’s not one for formalities with you, is one of your more favored friends. He was the first out of many to visit after your parents died four years ago, and he refused to leave Aspen until he was sure that you were going to be okay in his absence. You trust him with your life.

A long time ago, his parents and your parents had arranged a marriage between the two of you, so that in the future, the kingdoms of Aspen and Tethys would be united and a feared duo against the Sacred Heart Empire. Thus resulting in the two of you spending the majority of your childhood together, you know everything there is to know about him, and it’s the same for him.

You came to a conflicting realization in your preteens.

You couldn’t marry Finnick, and it wasn’t because you hated him, as your parents were led to believe in the beginning. You loved Finnick, far more than you ever believed you could, but it wasn’t in a romantic way, it was in a brotherly way. You weren’t interested in him, or the idea of men in general. 

When you broke the news to your parents that you were interested in women, their prominent reaction was how they were afraid of how Finnick and his parents would feel.

Well, Finnick already knew, he was the first to know as soon as you did. He was waiting for you to tell your mother and father, so then he’d be able to tell his parents that he’d found another Princess to marry from a smaller coastal kingdom called Cordelia. While you were gaining courage, he had met Princess Annie and decided that he liked her. Not as much as he had previously liked you, but he was working his way to be there.

Finnick wasn’t heartbroken for long.

The trip you’re taking to Tethys today shouldn’t last longer than a month. There’s a lot to be discussed on how you three are going to command the north-west region, especially with Sacred Heart being so close. They’ve been expanding, the empires around them have been crumbling under their hand without a fight. It leads you to believe that they’d wanted to join the entire time, they were just waiting for the invite. If they’re not taken down soon, then the country of Panem might get stuck under Coriolanus’ harsh reign.

You met him once, a long time ago. When you were just a little girl, your parents brought you with them so that you could see the man they were going to negotiate a truce with. They wanted him to stop attacking their troops that were traveling nearby, because they weren’t passing through Sacred Heart directly. King Coriolanus claimed that he owned it all, even the land that Aspen sits on. He wasn’t going to be persuaded.

He was an ugly person, inside and out. You thought that he was a fairytale monster that came to life when you sat in front of him. Each time he moved, your heart pounded harder and faster in your chest, as if he’d lean across his throne and eat you whole.

Your parents weren’t intimidated by him in the slightest. They threatened him, told him that if he isn’t careful, then he’d find himself very regretful of the choices he’s making, and your family history is no stranger to generational grudges, that when you eventually succeeded them, you would continue for them.

You three left that night, and you weren’t attacked on the way back to Aspen. However, he didn’t hold back the second you were inside of the walls again. Your parents were prepared for this, the entire north-west region retaliated immediately against Coriolanus and his soldiers.

He lost thousands of troops, men and women, in the span of a few months. It didn’t matter what they were doing, if Coriolanus’ maroon red uniform was seen, then the order was to kill. The only mercy would be children traveling with, they would be rescued and rehomed inside of the kingdoms.

No one survived, and he found this out when the shipments of hundreds of bodies started.

Coriolanus didn’t want to start a war, he wanted to end it quietly. He’s come back for your family only once; to kill your parents. He’s the reason why they’re both gone. And you’re going to carry out their promise, but you’re hoping to be the one to kill him.

You tuck the front of your blouse into the pants, lips pursed. The lady-in-waiting at your elbow, Ilaria, holds the belt and other various accessories that’ll be useful to have while you travel. As much as you’d prefer to travel by carriage, since it allows for you to get more work done while on the way, the path to Tethys is easier on horseback. 

You’ll be taking a few of your trusted knights, and you’ll be leaving your constable here to lead the kingdom while you’re gone.

She stands behind you stiffly, hands at her sides, head held high, eyes on the wide mirror you stand in front of. She watches the people in the room through it, in case she needs to act on a moment's notice. She would prefer for her face to be shielded by some sort of helmet for her own protection, and also because she’s more of a private person. She knows how you feel about being connected to the high ranking people around you. Besides, it’s unusual for constables to wear a helmet around their Queen.

When you were sixteen, parents' deaths still fresh and painful, she was appointed to be your guidance until you turned eighteen. Your constable is only two years older than you are, which is also highly unusual. However, she’s somehow decades more responsible than you are in some aspects. There’s been a few times where you wonder if she should’ve been appointed to power, considering she knows the right thing to do in most situations.

Johanna briefly makes eye contact with you in the mirror when Ilaria gets to her knees to pull the socks over your feet and up to your salves. Her eyes don’t dart away, measuring your face, squinting, and then they lower to the girl that’s getting you properly dressed for this trip.

“Johanna,” You say, she looks at you again, “While I’m gone, I want you to get the staff in order, and figure out why they’re acting rebellious. I don’t want them demoted, save that for when I come back, please.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” She murmurs, “Anything else?”

You smile slightly, leaning down to straighten the socks. Ilaria mumbles an apology before getting to work on the boots. “Try not to have too much fun without me.”

The corners of her mouth turn up in a smile for half a second, “I can’t guarantee that.”

When Ilaria’s done, you stomp your feet in the boots. They’re brand new, so they’re going to be uncomfortable. They were made to be form-fitting on your feet, and yet they’re still loose. You’re sure that these are going to be a pain to wear.

It’s already reaching late noon, so you start toward the door wordlessly. Ilaria hurries to open it before you stop. You had hoped last night that you’d be miles away by now, but there were a few unforeseen problems regarding your knights this morning, so they had to be reassigned last minute, which took a lot of fuss and arguing.

Johanna follows you and Ilaria down the hall to leave the castle. You can hear her heavy boots on the hardwood flooring, rhythmic, as she was taught to by the military school just outside of Aspen. Ilaria breaks off when her room comes up, leaving just you and your constable. She escorts you down the stairs and to the foyer, where your four knights are patiently waiting for you.

From here, Johanna follows the five of you to the stables, walking through town to get there. The people know better than to stop you today, usually you’re good about trying to stay and touch and understand their issues. A compassion that your mother had tried hard to instill into you. A listening leader makes loyal people.

Johanna holds one of your hands while you swing your leg onto the saddle, readjusting until you’re comfortable. You won’t make it far tonight, but it’ll be a good distance to start. You’re hoping you won’t be out in the elements for long before reaching Tethys.

Johanna holds onto the horse's reins, leading her to the gate. When you get there, she folds an arm over her midsection, and bows deeply, “Safe travels, Queen (Y/n).”

“Thank you Johanna.” You nod, “Be well.”

Two of your knights lead while you stay in the middle, with the last two being behind you. That way, if you’re somehow attacked on the way to Tethys, you’ll have protection from all sides. It’s a quiet trip, you hardly talk to one another unless it’s to find another path around mud.

The sun sets quickly, by the time it’s dipped into the horizon, you’ve made it to the forest. It’s a few hours out at a leisurely pace, which you’re going to do. You don’t want to tire the horses out instantly if you don’t have to. You have a long few days ahead of you.

While you observe the knights making a fire and pitching the tent for you to sleep in, you write in your journal some of the ideas you had on the horse. A few strategies on how you can attack Sacred Heart, a recovery plan for those who surrender, and what to do with the women and children that aren’t involved.

War isn’t pretty, and it’s often drawn out. However, you want it to be over quickly. You want to show Coriolanus that you have power, and a lot of it.

“Are you hungry, Your Majesty?” One of the knights asks.

“No, I had an early dinner at the kingdom.” You murmur, binding the book once more, “Excuse me.”

You head into the trees, moving the stray hairs out of your face. You haven’t used the bathroom since you left, and you’re not going to stand around your knights and have them watch you. The stars give enough light for you to navigate your way. Besides, you can still see the light from the fire.

When you’re done with your business, you start your way back. You have to say, it’s easier to be dressed like this and have to use the restroom than all adorned in your dress and jewelry everyday. You have to plan ten minutes in advance and after to account for the amount of layers you wear.

A pair of hands grab you from hand, one slapping over your mouth, the other grabbing at your arms, pulling you against their chest. You can feel the cold steel of the chestplate, and the leather gloves. You let out a scream between the fingers, and squirm, trying to drop out of his grasp.

You can see them emerge from the trees, your other three knights have also abandoned their place at the campsite, and they’ve come for you. You’re terrified to know what for.

“No!” You scream again, bringing your head forward and slamming the back of it against the knight's nose.

He lets you go. You fall to your knees, pants protecting the delicate skin. You struggle to stand up in the boots, fingers fumbling to find the knife that Johanna gave you to use as protection. You yank it out, swinging it at one of the knights when he comes too close, before turning around and making a run for it out of the trees and into the field you came from. You’re not going to win a fight like this, the best you can do is run, but for how long?

You can hear them shouting after you, profanities spilling from their tongue. You steal a glance behind you, and find that they’ve resorted to horseback, hardly on foot. You try to pick up speed up the hill, but you’d have a better chance in heels. The horse is coming closer, laughter fills the air.

The horse slams into your side, nearly running you over. It throws you off balance, twisting your ankle as you go tumbling down the hill, covering your head while you hit various rocks on the way down. By the time you’ve reached flat ground, you’re covered in cuts, future bruises, and the knights have caught up to you at the bottom.

They hold their swords to your throat, making it impossible for you to escape further.

“King Coriolanus wants your head for his collection.” One of the knights smile, “I’m sure you understand, Your Majesty.”

You tense, ready for what they have prepared for you. You’re not going to give them the satisfaction of begging. You decided a long time ago, that if you ever ended up in this position, that you’d be quiet. What you have prepared in the scenario that you die young is too good to be spoiled early on. Let them get hit by surprise.

For a second, you can see her, before she’s obstructed by a knight. Johanna’s riding at full speed toward you, axes in hand. You duck at the sight of the ax leaving her fingers, forehead hitting the green grass. You can hear the cracking sound of his skull, and then his body collapses.

Johanna throws herself off of the horse, swinging the ax in her hand toward the knights that have worked for you for months. You dodge one of the swords that swing your way, covering your face when Johanna sprays his blood. 

Once the last three are down, Johanna drops her weapon, rushing toward you. She drops to her knees, brown eyes wide and searching you for any ghastly injuries.

“Your Highness,” Johanna breathes, her hands shaking on your skin, “Are you alright? I came as fast as I could when I heard—!”

You don’t let her finish, jumping at her, wrapping your arms around her tightly. She squeezes you back, arms locked on your body. You let out a heavy breath, “Thank you, Johanna for saving me.”

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this was part of my 2k celebration! thank you for participating!