#I finally wrote the next part

[b6d11f]

at my best, I'm a sacrificial lamb at my best, I am something you could handle

[medievalanchoress]

🎓📚💫

[forgetme-eternally-blissfully]

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Cale blinks, eyes bleary. He's being held in Choi Han's arms, tucked close to his chest. Wince. Not only does his head hurt, his body hurts now too.

Being ten is strange. Strange in the way that his body doesn't match his mind anymore. Strange in the way that he feels like a stranger in someone else's home. It reminds him of a memory, older than he is, of when he first walked into the orphanage. Out of place. The kids already there looked at him like he was no different from them, but it was strange to finally be labeled an orphan despite having been without parents for most of his life, now.

The 7 year olds memories tucked away in his mind welcome the 10 year old in. Cale frowns.

A habit from his older years, and younger ones, has him checking his environment before his condition.

"I will go to Duke Fredo." He hears Eruhaben declare to everyone in the room, clearly having a meeting of sorts. Cale is tucked so close to Choi Han that his being awake goes unnoticed. Or, if it is noticed, no one says anything about Cale listening in.

Rosalyn nods. "The White Star is planning something in Cale's absence. We need to find out what that is," somberly, she adds, "Before 'he' decides to do something about it first."

Cale yawns in the middle of her talking, and the buzzing in his ears prevents him from hearing the last part. Duke Fredo... Cale remembers being Naru, for a time. Cookies and the White Star... his head aches. It feels, very accurately, like a long needle is being inserted into his skull and poking around in his brain.

"Cale?" Choi Han squeezes his shoulder. The 10 year old in his arms frowns more at how comfortably he's being held. How long has Choi Han been carrying him? He recalls being carried by Choi Han many times. It makes him recall other things, such as pain and coughing up blood. He assertively stops thinking about it.

The meeting on the other side of the room comes to an end at Cale's emerging consciousness. The eyes on him feel familiar. It reminds him of the pitiful looks he got when he wandered the cold streets in nothing but a school uniform. His memory flickers and it suddenly reminds him again of the team, when they looked at him as the Team Leader.

Though, he can't think of any reason why they're staring at him like that.

Finally, with a twang of pain in his skull, he realizes that they're looking at him with expectation... he doesn't connect the dots that their expressions are that of worry. Was there something he missed? He yawns again, tears coming to his eyes, and he calmly wipes them away before kicking his legs.

"I want down."

Choi Han sets him on the ground, steadying him on his wobbly, sleepy legs. Cale is thinking about the conversation that Eruhanen and Rosalyn just had when hunger pains radiate from his stomach like twisting tendrils.

-Sorry Cale! I took longer to heal your body because of the curse, but it's fixed now!

Clutching his stomach with one hand, he covers his mouth in a desperate attempt to keep the blood in his hand as he coughs wetly. It tastes familiar, beyond the familiarity he had with it at 10, but rather its a lifetime of familiarity that cannot be contained in just the words, 'he tasted blood.' It was a taste he knew better than food or water.

His chest feels better, he notes. His head still hurts, unfortunately, but he shouldn't expect too much.

It also came out of his nose. Gross.

With that underwhelming thought, he keeps the blood carefully cupped in his hand. Uncle hated when he got blood on the-

Uncle is...

Right.

But still... he shouldn't get blood on his Hyung-nim's nice carpet. It's probably... expen... sive.

Noise buzzes around him, someone is touching his shoulder, but he's coughing blood again, again, and again, and it feels awful as his stomach twists and writhes with the hunger and pain that he's felt before, but it makes him ravenous all the same.

Hungry. He could eat anything right now. He remembers the tasteless rock he ate to get Super Rock's Ancient Power. He'd even eat a normal rock.

But still, even in his hunger, he keeps his mouth closed.

He can't bring himself to ask for food.

Not even from Raon. Something in his core, in his gut and his heart and his soul, tells him that he shouldn't ask. How could he take food from Raon? Well, it's Raon's supply of food for Cale anyway, so it's okay. But taking food from a child? But Cale is a child too--

"Human! That's your hungry face! Quickly eat this pie!" Raon cries out and there's suddenly a slightly smashed slice of apple pie in his face. How are there already tears on it...?

He grabs it without thinking hard.

The hunger doesn't care about tears, and soon Cale is stuffing his face with the salty apple pie with a fervor that he, at 10, would normally never have shown to anyone. He eats without chewing with a familiarity that makes him want to cry.

Choi Han's hand shakes on Cale's shoulder.

He should've checked Cale's condition beforehand. He saw that Cale used the ancient powers but still, Cale only got his external wounds treated. Why did he let his happen? He thought that it would be okay this time. Cale was young now and he wasn't showing a response for a long time, so he didn't think. There's no excuse for this.

Cale eats desperately, as if his life depends on it, and Choi Han can't help the way his heart cracks at the sight. And burns with frustration at his own uselessness.

Drip.

The room is quiet.

Drop.

"Human! Do-do you need more apple pie?!" Raon yells, panicking, bringing out more apple pie as Cale's cheeks become wet with silent tears. He reaches for a pie in the air and scarfs it down, uncaring of the sticky fingers covered in sweet apple filling and flaky, crumbling bits of crust.

It tastes like home.

It doesn't taste like Uncles house, or blood, or school hallways or alleys or scraps.

He sobs miserably, wanting to hide. He isn't crying over apple pie, he isn't! From his memories, he definitely shouldn't be crying over this much- it didn't even hurt enough to cry!

Thunder crackles outside the castle. Cale remains hunched over a new slice of apple pie, curling into himself in a very not-Cale like manner.

Another crack of lightning outside.

Eruhaben steps in front of Cale. He brushes Choi Han, frozen in his shock, away from the scene. Raon brings more apple pie out, even as he sees that Cale isn't so much eating the pie as he is holding it.

"Human, I will- I will destroy the world! You can't go into a coma again, I will- I will," Raon's voice cracks. Choi Han gathers himself. He looks at Cale, before calmly standing next to Raon and touching his paw in the air. "Human..."

"Cale," Eruhaben speaks calmly. "Look at me."

Cake shakes his head, fingers trembling. Something's wrong with him, inside of him, and the panic gets to his chest as he starts to take quicker breaths. Cale looks through his memories to fix himself but they blur in a cacophony of sounds and words and frames.

"Cale Henituse, you need to relax. Everything is okay. No one is taking anything from you. Calm down."

They weren't inspirational and comforting words. No, the words could even be considered a little cold, for an adult speaking to what appears to be a 7 year old. But it was necessary for Cale, who was 10 and not 7, and Kim Rok Soo, who was orphaned at a young age and abused and abandoned, and a little boy who went through both child and teenage years without anyone he could call family.

Cale opens his eyes. Were they closed? Eruhaben is in front of him.

Calm down.

Why did Lee Soo Hyuk come to mind when he heard that? A distant, dusty memory falls through his mind, so he picks it up and watches it. The Record plays out.

Something happened like this, once.

It was the only time he came close to crying in front of the Team Leader. Lee Soo Hyuk brought him out of it. The Record, though the reason why he almost cried was somehow forgotten(lost?), always played when he needed to put himself together in a moment of weakness.

Even now. When he is 10 years old in a 7 year olds body. The voice brings back the feeling of calm.

His memories settle.

Right. This is more like him. More like himself.

His face levels out into something neutral.

It feels like an older version of himself, somewhere between 38 and 20, is stroking the top of his head. Cale wonders if hallucinations are part of the curse.

"Good job." Lee Soo Hyuk in the Record and Eruhaben's words overlap for a moment but Cale ignores it.

It takes mental strength to stand straight again, but he manages it with a stiff expression. His hands are a mess, a gross mix of blood and the smushed flesh of what used to be a perfect apple pie.

He's never been more ashamed and embarrassed in his life. Old memories come to mind, reminding him that he's done worse, but the 10 year old in a 7 year olds body feels mortified. If he'd done this in front of his uncle...

"I'm sorry." Cale apologizes. It comes out of his mouth naturally. He has a lot that he could be apologizing for. The floor, which surely has blood and messy apple pie on it now. The pie, which is as ruined as his shirt. The weird hyperventilating thing he did. He recalls his memories. Maybe it wasn't what Lee Soo Hyuk called it, a 'panic attack,' but something different, more sinister.

He convinces himself that it is.

Red flag number 6 it is.

"Cale, you have nothing to be sorry for." Eruhaben states clearly. Cale looks him in the eyes. Strangely, he feels compelled to believe the Ancient Dragon.

.... Red Flag number 7?

Cale backs away on instinct.

Eruhaben sighs.

"Unlucky bas... hah." Standing up from where he had apparently gotten on his knees, Eruhaben waves his hand. The gross feeling on Cale's hands disappears effortlessly, and the stain on his shirt vanishes too. "It'll still be better to wash your hands, at least. Though that doesn't mean you're dirty... it means you were attacked by apple pie." Eruhaben tells him seriously. He lowers himself to his height and makes eye contact. "So it's best to wash it off, just in case some of it is still on you. It could... attack again."

The other people in the room, notably missing Bud and the mage Glenn now, stare at Eruhaben. He pointedly ignores their gazes.

Cale nods.

Eruhaben covers his rising smile.

"Off you go now," he lowers the hand, looking serious again. Struggling, he continues,"... Be careful." Like sending off a soldier, he stands up and looks away from Cale.

Choi Han covers his own face and fights to not laugh.

Somehow, despite the fact that Cale technically has all of his memories, the explanation works for him. He goes into the bathroom, escorted by Ron, who helps wash his hands at the sink. Ron also has him change his clothes, despite their clean appearance.

Ron assures him that it's due to the risk of another apple attack. It could be stuck to the clothes as well. Cale frowns. Ron smiles at the pouting 7 year old.

The 10 year old starts changing his clothes obediently.

Cale's muscles ache and burn. Even his bones hurt.

His head is in so much pain, especially when he focuses, but he draws in his willpower to think very hard about the reason why he might be in this condition.

Cale winces as the needle in his brain digs in deep and drags itself over his frontal lobe, and he visibly shudders, trying not to grimace.

10 year olds are supposed to be bigger than 7 year olds, is the conclusion he comes to.

...

Cale gets chill on the back of his neck.

Surely he isn't going to grow... right? No, no way. If he is, surely he shouldn't be in pain, right? He became 7 years old in a flash and it didn't hurt, so why now?

The pain alleviates for a second. In feels like whatever is causing the pain is given a revelation.

In his undergarments, Cale is enveloped in a white light.

This is...

Definitely red flag number 8.

Definitely, he thinks, suddenly 12 years old in a 12 year olds body. The needle painfully digging into his brain burns and yet feels cold at the same time. It spreads like an infection, and he immediately covers his right eye as it becomes numb with a sharp, icy sensation. Strangely, his hand warms up.

Ron, who innocently retrieved a garment from the crown prince Alberu's younger days, drops it. The assassins hands, which never tremble, shake more than they would if Cale had been an adult. Seeing a newly 12 Cale bleeding from his eye...

Blood seeps through the gap between Cale's hand and his face, which is now suddenly 12 years old.

Cale-- Ron realizes as he calls, as calmly as he can, for the ancient dragon and rushes in a not-so-calm manner to the young masters side-- has yet to realize that his eye is gushing blood. The 12 year old looks at Ron, confused.

Ron's expression is stiff.

"Ron?" Cale asks.

Eruhaben enters the room alongside Raon and Choi Han, but Ron focuses on relaxing his expression, and carefully holding Cale's hand to his eye, keeping it there so he doesn't remove it.

"Young Master... Do you remember the song, Dark Night Moon Light?"

Cale frowns. His head hurts.

"No." He says honestly. Why is everyone in here all of a sudden? Cale was barely dressed in some now too-small shorts. It's cold, he thinks through the pain.

"Then I will remind you, Young Master. It's a children's song that parents or butlers like me sing at a child's bedside. The child will close their eyes and listen to the song. Would you allow this butler to sing it to you?"

All of a sudden?

Cale feels uncomfortable, but his head hurts so much that he can't think about it a lot, so he closes his eyes.

Ron sings, in his calm and low voice, a common children's melody. He himself had once sung it for Beacrox, a long time ago.

It's supposed to help children who find themselves terrified of the dark. As far as Ron knows, Cale was never been so afraid of the dark to have this song sung to him... but, he understands with a bitter heart, even if he had been scared, the song would've been sung by his mother. Not his father, who was too sucked in by his grief after her passing.

He realizes that Cale, being 12 now, must no longer have the memories of his mother singing to him.

Eruhaben has Ron carefully remove Cale's hand, which had been pooling blood inside, spilling onto the floor.

Branded under his eye, looking like a burn in the soft and thin skin, is a number.

'12'

Eruhaben waves away the blood.

"Young Master, open your eyes now. The song is over." Ron doesn't react to the number, and when Cale opens his eyes, hides his relief that his eye is not damaged. Just bleeding. "Do you know how old you are now?" Though, Ron had a strong suspicion that they already knew.

"... 12, I think."

"Cale, you've been fighting off the curse, haven't you?" Eruhaben asks. It feels angry. Cale shrinks in on himself.

"It's fine, isn't it? It's better if I'm older."

He won't cry anymore. He can bathe again, since he can now handle the phantom sensations of blood and scars and dirt. He won't ignorantly use his ancient powers. Off the top of his head, there are more reasons that he should be older than there are reasons to go back to being young.

He is a better slacker when he isn't being whiny and childish.

"... Cale-nim." Choi Han groans.

"You knew that you were fighting off the curse, right?" Eruhaben asks again, but it's calculating.

"... Yes," but how could he not? He could always feel when he grew older, smarter. Not to mention the cracking like pain of his skull being hammered in, worse and worse as he ages. Even now, he can only tell the honest and not altered truth, simply because he is in too much pain.

Choi Han wants to ask. 'Is it because you don't trust us?'

But he holds his tongue.

Eruhaben sighs. He nods at Ron.

"Get dressed." Eruhaben rubs the top of Cales red hair, leaving him frazzled, before leaving the room. Choi Han clutches his sword and restrains his rampant emotions.

"You aren't in trouble human! The great and mighty Raon will help you become a child again!" Raon flies around Cale. Ron, observing Choi Han and Raon, leaves to rob the crown prince of more clothes.

Sigh. Cale shivers.

His head hurts.

[1-800-i-ship-it]

omg i just finished orv im going insane im im i can finally look at that doc of things i saved for after i finished orv and can look at spoilers...i can finally unblock that orv spoiler tag...im so normal about orv

[my-blooming-darling]

I felt like I could have added more to these so the readers could imagine it more, so here’s a revised version! I wonder if I should make another part?

Tw: slight sad in Rindou’s part…I had to do it to ya 😭

Categories: ☁️fluff; 🍡gn!reader; 💫old work; 🎐multi-character (of the same fandom)

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💕 Ryusei is a big cuddler when he’s cold. You could be wearing your own jacket and he’ll still try to trap you in his with the excuse of “we can’t freeze if we’re in the same bubble”. He insists on staying home, but will go with you if you need to run errands. As soon as y’all are done though, he will be on you and squeezing you for warmth. Will reluctantly let go if you ask but he comes back with your favorite drink. He did go outside exactly once during a day in and that was because he was pelting Chifuyu and Baji with snowballs, but then he comes back acting like a wounded puppy after they tag team him. He likes to take pictures of you in the snow and he will gush about you to anybody that’ll listen to him. Chifuyu and Kazutora are tired of hearing it, but Baji will listen to him until he rambles for an hour, by which point he’ll send Ryusei back home to cuddle with you more.

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💕 Baji’s grumpy when he’s cold. He doesn’t like going anywhere and he’ll tell you as much if you wake up earlier than him because he knows what that means. Will squeeze you and grumble when you try leaving him. And by squeeze, I mean koala-type squeeze and you’re either stuck with him or you’ll do what you need to do while he buries himself in blankets like a hibernating gremlin. Sometimes he’ll occasionally wake up and y’all take turns making food or something, although he’s wrapped up in a blanket like he’s a house elf. Will curl up in front of the heater with whatever cat he has that day, and will probably complain if he can’t find his socks. He’s very cuddly when it’s cold too, and he’ll pepper you with kisses until you agree to snuggle with him. He won’t find out about the snowman competition between Chifuyu and Mikey until a full hour later.

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💕 Yuzuha buys you matching socks and takes pictures of y’all’s feet for her scrapbook. She likes having good memories of your time together, so she tries to take as many pictures as she can. She also likes to play in the snow with you if there’s any or enough to do something with, but she’ll also get embarrassed if you take pictures of her in the snow. If not, then she’ll have no problem staying in and cuddling with you while watching your favorite shows. If you’d like to go somewhere, she’ll go with you but only after making sure you’re properly warm, something she’s had to do for Hakkai throughout their lives, so it’s basically second nature to her. Hakkai does sometimes come over and he tries to feed you both because he’s a sweetie. Her favorite thing to make in winter is warm milk tea, but she would make sure to use a milk alternative just in case. Cooking with Yuzuha during winter is always an adventure because you’re always trying different recipes.

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💕 God forbid it snows because Chifuyu will go outside and build snowmen. His cutest one is a snowman of Peke J. If you won’t come out with him, he’s fine with that, but do expect him to come poke his head in the door (he won’t go inside with snow covered feet) and tell you about the snow person he built of you. He will take so many pictures of that snow person of you and send all of them to you. He sends you a picture of them in the group chat and Mikey’s hilariously offended by the fact that Chifuyu made him smaller than Peke, which was absolutely done intentionally because Fuyu’s a joker like that. He’ll take a picture of the snowman he made of Peke J and show it to him like “Look, it’s you!” while Peke meows and tilts his little head. He comes back to cuddle with you though after picking up warm drinks, cuddling with Peke J, and snacks…until he catches wind of Mikey’s snowmen, then it’s war. He also makes a snow person of you and Peke J cuddling after he finds you asleep with Peke curled up on your chest and snoring like a cute little void.

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💕 Mikey, although he’d rather be sleeping and cuddling with you, tries to go outside out of spite to build a snowman of Chifuyu after he catches wind of his hilariously tiny snow version of himself. Yes, that’s probably one of the only times he’ll willingly wake up for anything in this weather. You wake up to hear him grumbling away as he puts his boots on. You quickly figure out why he’s displeased when you see the snowmen that Chifuyu built of everyone in the group chat. Mikey hears you laughing at his expense and proceeds to tackle you and squeeze you. He’ll cuddle with you for awhile and complain until you give him kisses and snacks. Don’t mistake him though, he did go outside and show you his poorly made snowmen of Chifuyu, and wondered why you laughed harder at that one than the one Chifuyu made of him. “You’re supposed to be on my side, don’t laugh at me!” If you have to ask if he’s pouting while he says it, then there’s a 99% chance that he is absolutely pouting, and will continue until you hug or kiss him.

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💕 Emma, much like Mikey, will find you when you least expect her to and wrap you up in a giant blanket. You’ll essentially be a burrito while she makes your favorite soup. You’re not sure how she does it, but she’s able to squirm into the burrito with your bowls of soup without spilling a single drop. She’s just graceful like that, just saying. Y’all both bear witness to the snowmen war between Chifuyu and Mikey voting on whose are more absurd. It’s essentially the same as watching a game show on television but with bragging rights for the prize instead of anything else. Emma intentionally votes against Mikey solely to spite him because his grumpy anger is funny to her, which causes them to bicker, and Draken is subsequently left in charge of diffusing the situation, albeit with lots of grumbling in between sentences. She sneaks pictures of you when you’re not looking if y’all do go somewhere and keeps them in a photo album on her phone, very likely to have them printed so she can make a scrapbook or have them framed to put on her wall.

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💕 Sanzu is displeased when you and Senju declare snow war on him. Firstly, he can’t believe you’d team up with his sister instead of him. The idea mildly offends him, and he makes sure that you know it with petty complaints like “this would be more fun if my beloved didn’t pick my sister over me!”. Secondly, he wants to sleep. He’d much rather be in bed hugging you and having you all to himself with about three blankets and all the pillows you have in your home. Unfortunately , there is no such thing as sleep for him when you two have basically dragged him outside to have a snowball fight, so he gets stuck calling in reinforcements…which is an equally displeased Takeomi. Takeomi, of course, grumbles with Sanzu while you and Senju yell at them to stop complaining and bring it on. He only laughs when Takeomi gets a huge snowball thrown at his face, only to shriek when he gets hit by one himself. He takes a video of it but decides not to post it because although he’d rather have been cuddling with you, this was a fun memory of his. He likes to watch it when you’re not there.

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💕 Hakkai likes to lay on you when he’s cold. He may seem like a shy violet, but he loves his cuddles. He’s another person who thinks it’s cute to match with his partner, so y’all have matching sweaters. You took notes from Yuzuha and got him a pair of matching socks too, and he loves that y’all are on the same page. You don’t let him or Yuzuha go home when Taiju’s there. Y’all three are bound for life, they’re stuck with you for all of time. It’s a slumber party for the night. You two sometimes visit Yuzuha and her lover with food that you both cooked and you try to feed them while you’re there (mostly because Hakkai wants to make sure they’re still alive if there’s a power outage). In the event of an outage, all of you pile together in one room and try to make the most of it while you wait for the power to come back on. You and Yuzuha’s partner are good friends so this makes an already bad situation into a better one where everyone gets along.

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💕 Taiju, the roided out not-so-jolly green giant himself is surprisingly a good cuddler. Probably because, well, he’s huge and has a high body heat. Does not care about how tall or short you are, he will find a way to engulf you while he holds you. Refuses to go anywhere if he thinks it’s too cold, will hug you so you don’t escape. This is the same man who dips a toe in the ocean during the summer and refuses to go in because he thinks it’s too cold, but tells his siblings they can go in if they wish and will stay on a beach towel under an umbrella. You have to find him sweaters and shirts that are larger than life because he has a nasty unintentional habit of ripping them with his tiddies alone. It embarrasses him and he makes you swear that you never witnessed it the first time (but you totally told Inui and Kokonoi about it in the group chat). Taiju grumbles at you to never speak of that incident again when he finds out that you already spilled the tea to his dog and cat.

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💕 You and Kisaki watch Hanma (from a very safe distance) try to build the tallest snowman that he can muster. Not wanting to be caught in the carnage that would be the string bean himself falling, you two are behind a sturdy tree while he’s putting snowballs together. Hanma fully believes that he can do it, and he surprisingly pulls it off after about three hours. Yes, y’all really stayed out there for three hours, watching him put together a snowman as tall as possible. If you’re somebody that likes the cold, then you’re not really that bothered, but you and Kisaki agree to huddle for warmth because he, admittedly, is shaking like a leaf. But if you don’t like the cold, you two agree to go inside and watch from the window. Y’all don’t want him to die, and him somehow dying by his own actions seems a very on-par thing for him. Hanma manages to build it to about 7’9 feet tall with no injuries, thankfully. Kisaki thinks its eyes are beady and shudders. Hanma thinks it’s the greatest thing ever and proceeds to try and make a taller snowman. You and Kisaki have emergency services on speed dial…

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💕 Rindou is outside jogging. He keeps his body in top shape, and he does not care about the weather. He actually doesn’t seem to fear the weather much, truth be told. You’ve seen him in the beating sun working out one summer (but that was also the same summer he got that sunburn and refused to exercise outside in the summer ever again). He’s probably the type of guy to go to Tornado Alley in the States and be like “a tornado? Headed here? Lemme go see this” while standing outside. If you join him, great. If not, you don’t cuddle with him until he’s no longer covered in snow and sweat, and you playfully call him stinky until he showers. Yes, he complains about the lack of cuddles but comes back out tired. This is optimal cuddle time, for he won’t be trying to wake you up for any errands if your social battery is deader than your former friendships. Will bury his head in your neck and hold you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. At one point, when Takemichi was doing his time travel business, that was always a possibility. He doesn’t like to think of those timelines where he had to live without you. He also will give you lazy kisses as he falls asleep, telling you how much he loves you. He doesn’t know when it’ll be the last time he does.

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💕 Now why would anybody think Ran would wake up for anything when winter makes him more tired? That man will sleep and will barely wake up even if you told him the house was on fire. Could sleep through an entire apocalypse, even, but he’ll immediately wake up if he feels you getting up. If you do wake him up, he will pretend he’s still asleep so you’d give him more kisses. You almost miss him giggling to himself as he rolls over, conveniently turning on his side so you’ll kiss his other cheek. He’s a cheeky, sneaky little bastard sometimes. Will pounce on you when you’re not looking and pull you back into bed with him. He’s dramatic, so he’ll whine if you escape and act like you’re leaving him to be alone forever, but he won’t make you come back if you really don’t want to. He’ll just miss you a lot until you come back. Will wholeheartedly act like he’s dying and sigh very loudly. He will also come into the room you’re in and flop onto the nearest bit of furniture that’s around and fake cry like he’s a Disney princess (and you have caught him petting an actual raccoon before and not get attacked, so that might not be very far off). If you do want to, prepare to be pelted with kisses.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

💕 You can sense the displeasure in Sanzu’s eyes when you team up with Senju over him. He looks hilariously offended that you would choose her to be your teammate. If the phrase“how could you?!” was a person, it would be Sanzu. Senju, however, is motivated by pure menacery and declares snowball warfare on her brother. Sanzu’s not safe from Senju and she swears she’ll win this war. Once a reluctant Takeomi arrives, it’s game on. Everybody in the vicinity better clear out or else they’ll get caught in the crossfire. You guys spend the day pelting each other with snowballs of various sizes and shapes (yes, Senju had kunai shaped snowballs at one point, you have no idea how she was able to mold them in such a short amount of time). Alas, Sanzu gets revenge on you for throwing a snowball at him after hitting Takeomi, lands a snowball directly on your face, and you “die”. Don’t worry, Senju avenged you by burying him and Takeomi in a pile of snow. She fake gags when Sanzu kisses your cheek in apology.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

💕 Izana hates winter. Absolutely cannot stand it, he immediately starts hunting for his socks and a humidifier as soon as there’s a mild chill in the air. He probably has some sinus issues that could get worse in colder months, which is another reason why he doesn’t like winter. Hilariously, he complains about how he took breathing for granted when one of his nostrils is stuffed while the other one works. You have found him under about 5 different blankets, all of them fleece and weighted with different patterns on them. He’s grumpy, worse than Baji, and can only be bribed into leaving his nest with kisses. Yes, he has actually made a nest with those blankets. He still won’t go anywhere if you have errands to run. Instead, he’ll clean up the place, cook, and then return to his nest where he waits for your return. If you stay with him, he’ll help out around the house but he’ll still go back to his pile after he’s made sure that you’ve been fed. Yes, he will pull you in like the gremlin he is and cuddle you. Does not speak once, only hiss.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

💕 Shinichiro, bless him, tries to get his sleepier siblings to exist in society. Emma’s no trouble, she wakes up pretty easily and is usually in a good mood until Baji comes over, then she’s yelling at him to tell her his hair secrets. Even still, the commotion doesn’t wake up the other gremlins. Izana and Mikey are lazy potatoes that are one fry short of a happy meal, so you end up having to help him. Once they’re done being McMad, you and Shin have some alone time. Y’all spend part of the day putting together a blanket fort and staying there until he has to leave for work. You wait for him to come back at the end of his shift. He temporarily forgot where you were when he left so he goes around the place looking for you until he sees you sticking your head out of the fort, which jump scares him enough to fall onto a napping Mikey, who screams bloody murder and clings to you while dramatically claiming that he’s a victim of attempted fratricide. He kisses your forehead and runs off to shower so he can come back and cuddle. Y’all don’t see Emma tying Baji to a chair Liam Neeson-style and interrogating him for what he does to make his hair perfect.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

💕 Kazutora, the sleepy tiger, reluctantly wakes up and goes to work. He doesn’t leave without cuddling with you for a few minutes. He’ll leave a few kisses on your head before dragging himself out of bed. Yes, he steals your sweaters because they smell like you and it makes him feel closer to you. If they don’t fit, he wears a scarf you wore. He doesn’t care if it’s black or if it’s pink with giant red strawberries on it, it’s yours and he wants to feel like you’re with him. If neither of y’all have work or anything to do, you two either stay in or go outside for a bit. Even sitting on the porch or balcony with a warm drink is enough for you two. He’s so pretty in his landscape with snow or rain falling all around, cheeks and nose bitten pink from the chill and his lips slightly reddened by whatever warm drink you two made. He doesn’t understand why you suddenly kissed him, but he’ll never complain and he’ll always kiss you back. He’s your lock screen, but he doesn’t know yet. He’ll probably find out later on, and he’ll blush so much while you laugh and hug him. You make his heart warm up just a little bit more in the winter air.

[spiderin-space]

Me smashing my two interests together to make an Impossible Crossover: Now Kiss

[st4rkissedwebz]

||Treat me like a dog. And I will bite like a dog.||

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

It was the same. Doing the same thing, choosing the same path over and over again. But this time. It felt different. Something felt..wrong.

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

You ran to the exit but like always. It was closed shut with planks. You never choose to pick up the damn axe no matter what, perhaps you would have escaped once. If you Just did.

You heard a noise coming from the other room, you walked there, kneeling before the injured figure, this happened too many times to the point where you memorized every one of his lines, to the point your brain didnt bother focusing on what he was saying. He handed you a map, you got it and walked away. a simple apology leaving your lips like always.

You walked, not bothering to answer your 'friends' questions. You never answered.

You Just ran into a drone, striking without hesitation, it spilled wires like the last time before falling limp onto the ground.

You made your way to the cabin pushing the door open, you knew what was gonna happen but despite that you acted, you performed perfectly like always. Cowering like a fool as the security tore into him, you ran to the button as he told you to. You ran as fast as you can, the war cry's of the employee's Just encouraged you more to reach the button.

As you reached it and pressed the button, the sound of an alarm, the red lighting of the room..you turned back, being face to face with an employee. You let out a breqth you didnt even know you were holding

That was close.

This wasnt a victory, but.. it always felt so good feeling that useless hope again and again everytime you pressed that button. No matter what was gonna happen in a few minutes when you stepped through that door.

You walked through the now motionless employee's the sun hitting your face, the birds chirping, before leaving you turned around, to give one 'last' curtain bow

..

Something was wrong.

You didnt have enough time to react before someone dragged you into the dark.

It wasnt him this time.

The only thing you managed to realize and remember before it all went blank was that you didnt saw him on the ground next to security like you did before this loop.

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Jazz and Jen

Human Hotel Trip ~ Part 5~ 3k

Hazbin Hotel ₊⁺⋆ Charlastor ₊⁺⋆ Eventually Explicit

Part 1 ⚜️Part 2 ⚜️ Part 3 ⚜️ Part 4 ⚜️ Part 5 ⚜️ Part 6 ⚜️ Finale

// Charlie comes to Alastor's rescue when he's captured by a Cougar, and then drags him onto the floor for a dance neither of them will ever forget.//

✧✦✧✦⚜️✧✦✧✦

Alastor sat at the hotel bar, nursing a whiskey neat as he reveled in the discordant tones assaulting his ears. 

A bastardized jazz cover of a current pop song mocked him from the hotel’s ballroom, where the ‘Roaring Twenties Bash’ was in full swing. The disguised demon grimaced. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass before taking another sip, letting the whiskey burn pleasantly. 

Outside of the bar and across the short hall, a change in tempo meandered through the double doors—and another abomination came to Alastor’s ears, pulling at the edges of his smile. 

Damnable human body made everything just that much more difficult to control. 

His fingers tapped his irritation against the polished wood of the bar. Even so, Alastor refused to return to their hotel room, though he knew Charlie was not there. 

She’d gone to the dance, he was sure of it. Which was probably why he hovered in the empty bar across the hall. Alastor had seen a makeup bag open on the bathroom counter and found a shopping bag that must have contained a dress, and he couldn’t help but wonder. 

Picturing Charlie dolled up like a woman in his time was, more than intriguing—though reality quickly shattered the fantasy. His mind turned to the unshed tears in her golden eyes under the relentless afternoon sun and in the humid Louisiana air the last time he’d seen her. 

Alastor was not familiar with the pang echoing in his chest. 

“Perhaps this auditory torture is a fitting punishment, after all.” He murmured to the rim of his glass. 

When he named the feeling, Alastor chastised himself for even a modicum of guilt. 

He’d only told Charlie the truth. The damn girl just wore her bleeding heart on her sleeve—every joy, every sorrow, every fleeting feeling showed on her face. It put her weaknesses on a marquee for anyone to see. 

It was as endearing as it was naïve, and he had crushed her, with a carefully crafted smile on his face. 

Alastor’s fingers cinched around his glass, wondering if he could shatter it in this human form, and if he would bleed. What it would be like to see scarlet seeping between his tawny fingers again?

The Radio Demon did not apologize. He did not regret. And he was heartless. 

So why did hurting Charlie make him feel so hollow?

Alastor swallowed the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, his mind made up. He had to find the Princess and smooth things over—for purely strategic purposes; he had to remain in her good graces. 

Just as he was about to straighten his vest and leave, someone slid onto the bar stool beside him. The spark of hope at the flash of blonde hair drowned instantly, when her cloying perfume violated his senses. Alastor turned to see a human woman, gracelessly aging into her fifties, leaning towards him. 

“Well, hello there, handsome,” she purred, bluntly sizing him up. “I’m Jennifer. Can I buy you a drink?”

Alastor’s smile narrowed on instinct, wondering what this foolish mortal was playing at. “I beg your pardon, Ma’am. But I was just leaving—” 

Jennifer laughed, her manicured hand coming like a claw to grip his arm. Alastor had to resist the urge to recoil as his skin crawled. “ The night’s still young, and you and I should get to know each other better.” 

Radio silence blanket the demon’s thoughts. 

Was this woman, flirting with him? And why? Some sort of artless joke? He might suspect Angel Dust or even Vox of putting her up to it, if they weren’t realms away. 

Jennifer used his stunned silence to pull Alastor back onto his bar stool, not noticing the way his fists clenched at the audacity of her still touching him. 

“I’m…flattered.” Alastor said, his tone undercutting his words, “but I’m afraid I have a prior engagement with—” 

“Oh, don’t be shy,” Jennifer interrupted him, leaning closer to him. “You don’t come to a bar in that shade of red without looking for attention. It’s so…devilish.” 

“Madam,” Alastor’s teeth grit behind his smile, his eyes flashing an infernal red behind his spectacles. “You have no idea what you’re playing with.” 

Though, to the demon’s surprise and unmitigated horror, his threat only made the stranger lean in closer—and touch his arm again. “I like the sound of that.” 

Alastor’s irritation crackled off of him. Static sizzled from hidden speakers around the bar. He had to extricate himself without causing a scene. He’d promised Charlie no harm would come to humans on this trip, but his patience was wearing thin. 

He couldn’t threaten if his target wasn’t afraid of him. 

“Surely, a woman of your…” Alastor plucked her hand from his forearm and dropped it on to the bar top. “ Experience…could find more suitable company.”

“Oh, I think you’ll do just fine, sugar.” 

Alastor suppressed a groan, suddenly realizing how much intelligence it required to realize you were being insulted. He had no option but to escape. 

“Well, terribly sorry, but I really must be off.” He stood abruptly, his stool scraping against the floor in his haste to leave. 

Jennifer’s eyes lit up. “Why don’t I join you?”

Over his dead body. 

“That won’t be necessary.” The Radio Demon’s perpetual smile tightened. 

“Your room or mine?” Jennifer purred as she too got to her feet. 

Alastor’s eyes widened, interference squealing from him as he stepped back. This was not what he intended in the slightest. And now it wasn’t annoyance but dismay straining his hold on human form.

If she touched him again, he would snap and break another promise to—

“There you are Al!”

“Charlie,” Alastor sighed her name like an answer to his prayers. 

Alastor turned towards her voice, already reaching to pull her towards him—and a lesser man might have let his jaw drop to the floor. Because Charlie was dressed to the nines. Her blonde hair was styled in perfect finger waves and layered pearls dripped from her throat. 

“And who is this chick?” Jennifer asked from behind him. 

Alastor's instant fury sounded like a needle scratching across a record. He knew an an affront when he heard it, but the Princess stepped past him and offered her hand to the human woman. 

“Hi, I’m Charlie.” She offered politely, as Jennifer gave the other blonde a far harsher glance over. “I’m Alastor’s fri—” 

“Girlfriend.” The demon seized the opportunity and Charlie by the shoulders, pulling her back against him and out of Jennifer’s clutches. “And date, to the dance tonight.” 

He could feel Charlie’s surprise as he ignored the intensity of her warm skin under his fingers. 

“Oh?” She turned, catching his eye. And he felt his own throat tighten, pleading that she would have mercy on him and play along. “Honey, I thought you didn’t want to go to the dance?”

Alastor felt his eye twitch at Charlie’s sly smile as he leaned down to emphasize his point. “Since when have I turned down the opportunity to dance with you, my darling?”

Jennifer might just be turning green right in front of them. 

“I thought you wouldn’t be caught dead at. What was you said? A feeble mockery of the glamor of a bygone era?”

Alastor had to hand it to her. That did sound like him. He had no idea she’d been listening to his rants. 

“Well, I’ve had a change of heart. Shall we?” He pulled Charlie’s arm into his to steer her away from the bar. 

“Fine.” Jennifer’s face fell in an ugly way, though she still shot Alastor a smile. “I’ll be around, if you change your mind.” 

Alastor clenched his teeth. “I assure you, I won’t.” 

“Come on sweetie, let’s go cut a rug!” Charlie beamed, dragging him towards the ballroom. 

✧✦✧✦⚜️✧✦✧✦

It was crowded, loud, and flashy. Attention had been put into the atmosphere, with candlelight and warm yellow string lights to make it look like the shell of a jazz club he used to haunt. And that was nothing compared to how the music was already making Alastor cringe.

Charlie caught him and pulled him right onto the dance floor with her. 

“Oh, no you don’t. You owe your fake girlfriend a real dance.” She propped her arm up on his shoulder, her tiny hand never releasing his fingers. “I didn’t get all dressed up not to dance.”

“Is that so?” Alastor pushed Charlie back, lifting their linked hands, so the blonde gave a little spin. 

In a sea of swaying fringe and feather boas, Charlie’s dress was elegant and understated. It was a black crepe romaine gown with a touch of dark sequins that glittered as she moved.

When Alastor’s gaze fell to her sheer stockings, he pulled her back to him, so he couldn’t stare. 

“I’ve seen worse.” Alastor said simply, glancing sideways as a dancer waved her feathered fan dramatically around the dance floor. 

“I’ll take that.” Charlie beamed. “Besides, you can’t avoid me if we’re dancing, can you?”

“And why, pray tell, would I be avoiding you?” Alastor’s eyes narrowed as they turned in loose circles to a song he didn’t recognize. But he wasn’t paying attention to anything other than the petite body in his arms. 

He already knew. That unfamiliar twinge of guilt, twisting in his chest. And he wondered, if she knew. 

Charlie turned a mischievous smile up at Alastor. “You know, Al,” her golden eyes glinted. “You still owe me an apology.” 

A harsh squeal of feedback pierced the air, causing a few human dancers to wince, but the demon didn’t let his steps falter. Alastor’s lips pulled back over his teeth, flickering between amusement and annoyance. 

“I do hate to disappoint, Princess.” He purred, his voice smooth as could be despite the static. 

He spun Charlie gracefully—but this time pulled her back against his chest—trying to distract her, and get his lips to her ear.

“I do not apologize. It’s simply not in my nature.” 

To his eternal surprise, he heard Charlie laugh. 

“Oh, really?” the blonde stepped forward, creating a space between them that the demon instantly despised. He righted his face as she turned. “If that’s the case, I’m sure Jennifer would be more than happy to take my place.” 

Alastor’s lanky frame gave a violent shudder. Without hesitation, he pulled Charlie back flush against his chest, his grip tightening around her waist possessively. 

“I am rather, particular, about who I dance with, Charlie.” He kept his voice low, fighting to keep the smile on his face. “And I’ve no desire to find another partner.” 

She stilled in his hold, almost falling out of step—and Alastor realized what he’d said. How Charlie, who read too much into absolutely everything, just might interpret that. 

Worse, she might just be right. 

“My, my, Charlie,” In an instant, Alastor pulled the smiling mask back over his face, and tugged Charlie back to him. “I do believe you’ve forgotten something rather important.” He crooned to her, watching her guard drop. 

Just so he could spin her out across the floor, then pull her back with a flourish. 

Charlie’s delighted giggle was the best music to meet Alastor’s ears that night. “Oh yeah, and what’s that?”

“That I am, quite simply,” Alastor’s grin widened as his hand slipped down to the small of her back—before he dipped her low. “The best dancer in all of Hell.” 

“Is that so?” Charlie laughed breathlessly and flushed a pretty pink, as her hand came to rest on his vest. 

“It is.” Alastor pulled her up, swiftly, twirling her again before drawing her back into step with the up tempo beat. “And I’d be happy to show you.”

✧✦✧✦⚜️✧✦✧✦

Dancing with Charlie was easy as breathing. And, with Alastor’s skill, it was easy to keep her from talking. 

But, the slow song always had to come.

And Charlie’s arms found their way around Alastor’s neck, just as his hands rested on her waist, naturally as could be. Being in tight proximity to anyone else would make his skin crawl—but he’d never minded being this close to her.

“You know, Al.” Charlie said, so soft only Alastor could hear. “This doesn’t mean that I forgot about that apology you owe me.” 

Alastor sucked air through his teeth like a sour lemon, but there wasn’t anywhere else to look with her arms around him. 

The demon took a breath before deciding on a new…and entirely unfamiliar tactic. To get back into the Princess’s good graces, he needed to be just a little softer. He could even be sweet—or pretend to be.

“My dear,” he chose his words as deliberately as he could. 

“I admit I could have been more... tactful in our earlier conversation. However,” his voice took on a firmer tone, “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

“You called me thick-headed and a fool, Alastor.” Charlie scowled. 

Alastor winced visibly this time, his perpetual grin faltering for a moment. He cleared his throat, radio static crackling faintly in the background.

He hadn’t meant to hurt her, had he? The thought was…disconcerting. 

“When I spoke of your stubbornness,” he began, His words slipped out in a whisper, gentler than his norm, “I meant it as an admirable trait. Your determination, your unwavering belief—it’s quite remarkable, really.”

Alastor ducked his head until their eyes met. 

“And…well, only a fool would think that they could challenge Heaven or Hell.” He lifted his hand from the small of her back, cupping her chin with a fondness even he could not deny. “Yet, here I stand with the incredible young lady who has bested them both.” 

“Oh, Alastor…” Charlie’s eyes were brimming with those tears again, though these were happy—he assumed. Though the demon had just as little idea what to do with—but soon she was wrapping her arms around him, squeezing his waist and pressing face into his chest. 

Their dance had turned into an intimate embrace, but the Radio Demon didn’t pull away. His chin came to rest on top of her blonde waves. Wondering when he had stopped trying to sway her, and just kept holding her close.

After an eternity that was not near long enough, Charlie turned her cheek to press to the buttons of his blood red shirt. 

“Al,” Charlie murmured, her words barely audible over the music. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, my dear.”

Charlie hesitated, and Alastor had a heartbeat to regret his instant agreement. “Do you really not want to be redeemed?” She lifted her head to look at him with those big glossy eyes, and Alastor felt his smile slip. “Or…do you just think you can’t be?”

And he felt himself torn down the middle. Between the instinct to deflect and protect himself—and the horrific urge to tell her the truth. 

✧✦✧✦⚜️✧✦✧✦

Alastor’s foot caught, nearly missing a step in their slow dance. The slip was imperceptible from the outside—but he knew Charlie felt it, because her hold around him tightened. Like she could keep him from falling. 

“I…my dear.” He hesitated, actually, hesitated. “Charlie…I know what I am, and what I am not.” 

The words fell heavier than he intended, hanging in the air between them.

 Charlie’s amber eyes blazed with an intensity that caught Alastor off guard. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his black vest, pulling him down until their faces were mere inches apart.

“Yeah? Well, maybe—just maybe you don’t know everything, huh?” The Princess challenged, her whisper fierce.

Alastor’s eyebrows shot up, genuinely surprised by her boldness. By her…closeness. It was distracting, to say the least. 

The scent of her blonde hair pulled him back to this morning, the way it and Charlie splayed across his chest. And everything else disappeared. 

Charlie didn’t relent. “I know who you are too, Al. And I know there’s good in you. I’ve seen it, even if you refuse to.”

“Dear little Princess Charlotte.” Alastor retreated into the perfect performance radio host. “Ever the optimist. But I am afraid this dog is too old for new tricks.” A hitched laugh escaped his lips, slipping from humor into something much darker. 

Part of Alastor knew he was baiting her—Charlie was incapable of resisting a lost cause. It was safer territory than bearing his throat to be bled dry. 

Charlie, predictably, had to do the right thing. She gripped on to him tighter. “You won’t scare me off, Alastor.” Her eyes never left his—and he could feel the determination burning. 

Alastor leaned closer, a breath away, his brown eyes turning a deep, menacing red as his pupils became radio slits—radio dials. A reminder that this dapper exterior was just a thin veil over the predator beneath. 

“Are you quite sure about that?” he let his voice into a dangerous whisper.

Charlie didn’t flinch. “Yeah, I am.” Her gaze locked with his.

The challenge hung between them, charged with electricity. Alastor felt a familiar thrill. 

The push and the pull. Her belief verses his doubt. 

But something else was stirring with in Alastor. A desire to prove to Charlie, once and for all, that her faith in him was misplaced. Before he could second-guess himself, Alastor closed what little distance was left between them.

The kiss was hard with defiance, and burning with longing. 

He felt her gasp against his lips, louder in his ears than the appalling music. 

Charlie tasted sweet like cinnamon, her mouth soft with surprise as she stayed frozen in place.

For a fleeting, heart-wrenching moment, Alastor was sure that he had finally found the line and crossed it. 

Until arms wound around his neck to pull him in closer. 

Charlie was kissing him back.

Deepening the kiss until he was the one to gasp—before remembering that he didn’t have teeth sharp enough to cut her tongue.

Alastor was supposed to be proving a point, not enjoying kissing Charlie.

And wishing it never had to end. 

⚜️ Part 6 ~ Speak Easy to Me ⚜️

Part 1 ⚜️Part 2 ⚜️ Part 3 ⚜️ Part 4 ⚜️ Part 5 ⚜️ Part 6 ⚜️ Finale

[lieutenantselnia]

I just realised the concert I've got tickets for and Vienna Comic Con are all on 3 consecutive days ... that's gonna be one hell of a weekend for sure😅

[sitaarein]

Today was a good day and I am happy

[spyderschaos]

I would love love love to hear about the dynamic with pietro, wanda and amber!!! (also cannot wait for chapter two)

Omg omg ok

1. So Amber and Gwanda met in middle school (don’t know which grade exactly) cuz they both had a spider phase (haha)

-Events led to a ‘listing spider facts’ competition and boom besties

2. They both met Pete freshman year of high school. His desk was in front of Amber and he was listening in to their conversation until he decided to jump in with a bad joke and just turn back to his stuff and not talk again

-Then during lunch Amber and Gwanda just sat with him, I like to think they just automatically accepted him into the group

-Pete was just sorta like “huh” and “alright then” so boom besties part 2

3. As said before Gwanda is the responsible one until convinced otherwise, then she’ll help bc if ur gonna do smth dumb you might as well do it as well as u can

4. Pete is no snitch but he’s a horrible liar. So let’s say Amber goes after a bad guy after they, as a group, had decided she should not and would not do that, Pete would try to help her.

-Kinda like “what? Nooo she was with me the whole time. Yeah yeah we went uhhhh duck.. feeding?” And Gwanda looks at him like 🤨 bc he literally texted her (with photos) that he had spent that whole day building a computer from dumpster finds just to see if he could (he could)

5. Amber is always the one walking straight into random shit, as does anyone given the spider-man mantle

6. While Amber and Gwanda are closer, Pietro does not 🙅 get left out (there’s actually three duos in a trio not one) (one would think Amber is the mutual friend and whatnot- NO they are all friends and can, in fact, hang out even if one person is missing)

7. I think Gwanda and Pietro would be more competitive than Gwanda and Amber, at least like trivia wise, especially science

[justworthlessreblogs]

Waffleverse finale... soon... YYYYIIIPPPEEEEE!!!

soon... no promises on when it's going to actually come out but i really want to get it done by the end of august so it doesn't have to get put on the backburner thanks to school!

[imperial-nuisance-rudje]

FFXIV Write - Envoy

A shadowless messenger sets off.

Elidibus & Warrior of Light (kind of (it's complicated)), Ascian Azem AU. Early StB era, but contains spoilers for up to 5.x.

-----

It was not difficult to find the sundered Azem.

Even had Elidibus not heard Emet-Selch's horrified description of how his soul looked, the man's aether felt subtly wrong in a way few of the sundered ever did, in a way that left the faintest taste of sea spray on Elidibus's tongue when they spoke.

But the man was not tempered (this Elidibus knew innately), so it was little more than a distracting curiosity.

Azem stood shin-deep in the rising tide, facing the setting sun, black-gold mask hiding much of his expression. His high-heeled boots hung by their laces from his fingers, and the hem of his long dress was already floating in the water. If Elidibus did not intervene, only Ascian immortality would keep the man from drowning in the rising tide or freezing to death.

"Azem."

The only indication that Azem heard him speak was a flick of a long ear, but that was enough.

"I have a message I want you to send to the viceroy of Ala Mhigo."

That got his attention, causing Azem to actually turn and look at Elidibus.

"Why not take it yourself?"

I have dealt with enough of that family's nonsense from Emet-Selch, he very carefully kept behind his teeth. What he actually said was, "I cannot be in two places at once, and will be required elsewhere. From what I have heard of the man, you are most likely to get an opening to speak with him."

He paused, thought, and added, "Keep him alive, but expect to need force."

Azem's mouth twisted. Likely he thought Elidibus's avoidance cowardice rather than the spending the last of his will resisting the call to return Zodiark's heart to it. Elidibus did not comment on it; this Azem was a particularly snappish and short-tempered sort when he wasn't longing for a death he could no more have than a moth could hold flame.

"Fine. I'll do it."

"He is currently in the city of Ala Mhigo. Make haste."

Elidibus teleported away, leaving behind a deeply bitter Veena to carry his word while he allowed Zodiark to subsume his mind and grind away his memory.

[glowingsavepoint]

ok i wasnt going to post anything about this until i finished the entire thing but the side stories are making me really regret not posting the chapters of my fanfic that have been finished because no ones gonna believe i came up with this stuff years before reading them lol

its gonna be a long time til im ready to share the entire story (if ever) but ive realized now i really want at least the opening paragraphs of the first chapter to be read by others, even i never finish the rest... hope u guys like it

Yes… I was certainly called that once upon a time.

_____________

My name was Kim Dokja.

A name pronounced like "reader". A name that meant "only son". Yeah… this name got me into a lot of trouble, didn’t it?

The name felt both foreign and familiar, like a walk down the street of your childhood home after many years away. A backdrop so similar yet never the same, populated by faces you no longer recognize.

It was strange.

I used to be so sure that I hated that name. Hated the body attached to that name. Hated its memories and its thoughts. Hated the very life that was "Kim Dokja".

As far back as I could remember, I had wanted so badly to cast those things away. I would have done anything, to stop being myself.

「But… it was strange.」

It was strange because I had definitely succeeded.

After 28 (or so) years of life, I had finally utterly ceased to be myself. I had become nothing more than a point of awareness. A being with no body, no name, no memories, no thoughts. A being with just a single desire.

「The desire to read.」

And read I did.

I read the stories of many people. An uncountable number of people. They were people like me. Readers to their cores and sick of their own circumstances, desperate to slip into the lives of others and wear them like a new coat.

Well, to be exact… they weren’t just like me.

They were me.

Or perhaps more accurately, I was them. I was them but I wasn’t them. I was the "them" that watched them. I was their subconscious. I was their higher self. I was what they were when they peeled away the layers of their egos, when they peered into the depths of their souls and forgot themselves. I was what told them they were here. I was what told them to keep going. I was their desire to continue, to finish the story, to keep reading, reading, reading.

I was the reader that read their stories, the protagonist that lived their stories, the writer that wrote their stories, and I was what confirmed their very existence.

I had once read that a particle collapsed its wave-function only after being observed.

Early quantum physicists had conducted experiments where they fired particles one by one at two small slits placed in front of a detection wall.

When the slits went unobserved, the particles formed an interference pattern on the wall behind them, as a wave would—behaving as if they had somehow gone through both slits simultaneously. The unwatched particles, astonishingly, seemed to exist in a superposition of all possible states and probabilities. Everywhere and yet nowhere all at once.

Only after a measuring device was placed by the slits (to find out which one the particles had actually gone through) did they collapse into just a single possibility, clearly passing through just one slit and forming a pattern consistent with that observation.

Scientists were stumped, how could a measuring device change the state of matter? It was as if the simple act of observing was somehow essential to determining what had previously seemed unquestionable: reality itself.

「Without someone to witness existence… would anything even exist?」

So I became the sole observer of this existence. I read their stories and I gave the universe its shape. I was the Order that gave context to Chaos. I was the Chaos that gave Order its purpose. I was the One that had become Two. I was the Two that wished to be One. I was the Character singing their tale. I was the Fable they wished to tell.

I was no one.

「I was everyone.」

I was nothing.

「I was everything.」

I was the Universe itself. I existed only to tell others they exist, so that they, in turn, would perpetuate existence.

「And in doing so…」

I had succeeded completely in wiping "myself" out of this existence.

...

So why...? I wondered, in a half awake state.

「Why do I still exist?」

And why—oh god—did that make me so happy...

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[kitteninabunker]

wrote this on a whim bc i love being a loser :3

gojo making dork!reader give him head in the empty lecture hall, "let's train this throat for the next time, hm?" he coos, slapping his cock against your face as you obediently open your mouth. there's no other noise except for your own gags and whimpers as you shove his fat cock deeper and deeper into your mouth until his red mushroom tip hits the back of your throat.

"good fucking girl," he grunts, sharply sucking in a breath of air through his teeth. "bet the others would kill me if they found out i got you out here alone with me."

that thought alone makes your cunt ache for some stimulation as you move your hand between your legs, fingers softly tracing the outline of your slick lips suctioned against the lacy black fabric as you thought about what they might do to you.

no, there isn't a doubt that they'd fuck you until you're crying, gushing around one of their throbbing dicks and making gojo watch the whole thing.

the truth is, gojo loved making you give him head, he could never get enough of feeling your plump lips wrapped tightly around his shaft, and your warm, wet tongue swirling around the head of his cock. he wanted to keep your mouth all for his greedy self. he grabs a fistful of your hair from the back of your head as he pushes it toward the base of his cock, his pubes nuzzle the tip of your nose as spit drips from your chin and onto the wooden floors.

you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to keep the tears burning in your eyes from spilling. your mascara's already smudged and lipstick ruined, staining his shaft a shade of red. when you blink your eyes open just enough to look up, gojo's icy blue gaze meets yours. he throws his head back with a groan, hips twitching. "perfect, aaah—fuckin' throat." his low groans make your cunt clench desperately around nothing, slick dripping and clit throbbing in sync with every sound he makes. you feel his foot next to your knee and you don't even hesitate to position yourself above it, grinding down on his polished dress shoe while your head bobs back, lips glossy with spit slip off his cock so you can mouth at his balls instead, sucking them into your mouth with a wet pop.

gojo looks down at you with a lazy smirk, his hand landing in a sharp slap against your tear-streaked, mascara-smudged cheek. "you were hungry, weren't you, baby?" he murmurs, voice thick with arousal. you smile up at him sweetly before dipping your head back down, lips parting to swirl your tongue around the flushed tip of his cock. you lap up the salty beads of precum that leak from his slit like you're starved for it— because you are.

he notices the way your hips subtly grind against his foot, and with a grin, he lifts it, just enough for the tip of his shoe to press right up against your needy clit. the friction makes your breath hitch, but you don't stop. gojo wraps a hand around the base of his dick and slaps it against your waiting tongue, watching the spit fly.

then he grabs your head and presses down, burying every inch of his thick cock into your mouth and throat until your lips are snug around the base. he groans low in his chest as he unloads, hot and heavy, straight down your throat, forcing you to swallow every drop of his cum. when he finally lets go, you lift off him with a gasp, a thick string of spit and seed stretching from your lips to the tip of his dick. your mouth is still full, glossy and messy.

"up." he commands, you raise yourself up off of your knees a bit as gojo leans in, grabs your chin, and kisses you, his tongue sliding past your lips to taste himself on your tongue.