#SNOT OUT OF MT NOSE

[goatman647]

THEY MAKE ME SO SAD THE GAY PEOPLE THEY MAKE ME SO SAD

[nyachu]

you ever crying and have a snot bubble form and that shit stops you because youre like okay hold on when did i become a cartoon baby

[octopineslime]

The Sweetest Dream

Summary: If kissing Lucy was all just in his head, he would never want to wake up from this sweetest dream.

---

Igneel had long since taught him to expect the unexpected.

The wilderness was full of danger with ferocious beasts and poisonous plants. One wrong move and his tiny life would be snuffed out like a dying flame.

Although his dragon dad had promised that as long as Natsu stuck closely by his side, no harm would dare befall on his one and only son.

But that not to say Igneel willingly coddled him, quite the opposite really, as the dragon would literally drop him in front of a giant, angry boar and expected him to bring back dinner, as if he wasn’t a snot-nosed brat who just began to learn the secret art of dragonslayer at the time.

Nevertheless, he did manage to gain them a hearty meal of roasted boar meat, but not without a throbbing bump on the head and a few scraps and bruises in between. Despite his fighting skill and survival instinct did improve by a leap after facing such large beasts, he was still bitter with the whole thing. They called it tough love, he called it bullshit.

Anyways, the dragon made it clear that he would not always be around Natsu’s side all the time (it didn’t even cross his young, naive mind that the declaration was painfully literal until much later), so he had to be prepared and stayed alert at all times.

That’s why he began to develop a habit of immediate awaken from slumber at the smallest sound, or the slightest shift in the air, whenever Igneel went out on a a dangerous hunt on his own (the meat always tastier the larger the beasts), or did his instinctual dragon things like hoarding.

And this habit had more or less affected his health after the disappearance of all dragons. He rarely got a full eight-hours sleep unless he was rendered unconscious by the monstrous moving contraptions called vehicles, or by Erza’s packing punch. Neither option sounded appealing and he was certain that he would die first from either puking his guts out, or from concussions, way before sleep-deprived exhaustion.

It’s also one of the reasons why he chose to build his home, or nesting ground, inside the wood near the outskirt of Magnolia despite its far distance from the guild. The wildlife was all he knew, being one of his core memories, and he found himself most relaxed and lured to sleep easier surrounded by nature.

Having Happy, his trusted companion and best friend nearby, also helped tremendously with his light-sleeping tendency as he trusted the Exceed to watch his back in his most vulnerable state.

But it all changed when Lucy stumbled upon his life. The weirdo with a too kind for her own good heart and key-wielding magic, carried a unique scent that tickled the back of Natsu’s mind of something overly familiar and comforting from a distant time, fogging his brain to want nothing more than to curl up against her and sleep the day away.

But he didn’t think she would appreciate that when they were practically strangers at the time. She might sick one of the Rune Knight, or worse, one of her spirits on him if he was to clomp her and promptly fall asleep.

That’s why, in his rare moments of geniuses, a brilliant plan struck him like lightning: He would bring Lucy to Fairy Tail, and find a way to have her become his partner so she could get more comfortable with him, and the idea of them cuddling for sleep. It was such a foolproof plan (or so he thought) that he couldn’t wait to carry it out.

And carried it out he did. Although his plan didn’t involve them being chased by a horde of angry Rune Knights for destroying the port, or how they nearly died saving Macao from Mt. Hakobe, or even discovering a life changing secret from a dead but renowned author to his son by disregarding the mission objective.

But he could honestly say he definitely preferred this more chaotic version of his initial simple plan, as he hadn’t experienced this much fun in his wizarding career, all thanks to his mood-swing, weird but super awesome blonde partner.

Despite his initial goal was to have Lucy allowing him to cuddle with her platonically and get the much needed sleep, his path started straying away from the blurred goal the longer he got to know the celestial wizard.

Lucy was beautiful, a fact as obvious as the sky was blue or how fire would always beat ice. Her whole appearance screamed femininity, from the top of her silky golden hair, to the scraps she considered outfits clinging to her generous figure, to finally the tips of her manicured and painted toe nails. Like an alluring flame drawing moths, his partner attracted attention from left to right, both from the male and some female populations, with just a batter of her thick eyelashes and a swing of her curvy hips. Her outwardly innocent appearance subconsciously aroused others’ desire to protect a seemingly dainty and gorgeous female.

But she was anything but dainty and weak, far from it. Natsu would gladly sit back and cackle maniacally in glee at the unfortunate souls, who dared to claim otherwise, being subjected to his partner’s hellish whips and righteous fury. He watched that girl take on opponents twice her size and magic with an unwavering determination and battle will, unleashing the wrath of starry heaven on foes who dared threaten any of her family members.

He wondered if this was what Igneel felt when watching him, the immense pride and adoration to the one whom he took under his wings and oversaw their tremendous growth both in strength and character. Watching Lucy grow more confident and assured in her magic and her own self made something purred deeply in satisfaction inside of him.

He wanted to shout out loud to the whole world that that’s his partner. He was the one who brought her to the guild. He chose her to be his partner and have her in his team. He made her believe in their guild’s unwavering familial bonds and help her kickass any losers standing in their paths.

He even won her trust to see Lucy just being Lucy, a weirdo who all grumpy before having her morning cup of coffee, who snorted a little too loud when she found something extremely funny, who would collect all the magazine coupons to pay a discount price for her grocery while literally spending a huge amount of jewels on the tiny fabric strips she called cute clothes.

Around him, she didn’t need to put up the pristine and ladylike image of Lucy Heartfillia, she could be just Lucy. And when she smiled at him, all teeth and eyes squinted shut, with bruises and scrapes littered her porcelain skin and hair tangles unlike birdnest after a tough battle, he found himself free-falling into the pit of uncharted thoughts and feelings.

Long before he knew, he was discontented with being just her friend and was craving for the unknown, and scary feeling of wanting to be something more.

And that made the impact of knowing he would never be Lucy’s type of guy all the more painful.

For all the unsuccessful dates she went on, Lucy always seemed to fall back to those pretty-looking, lanky-built guys who always talked in fancy language and more brain than brawn. Natsu never approved any of them, they all seemed wimpy and boring with all their talking about difficult literature and never about battle tactics or adventure.

But he held his tongue and attitude, despite wanting to punch some reality into those guys who had such rose-coloured view of the wizarding world and being prejudiced of how a lady like Lucy shouldn’t take on a dangerous career (he glad that his partner did slap some sense to those assholes with her sharp tongue), all because Lucy looked happy enough, even only for a brief period.

Despite feeling like someone took a dagger and stabbed repeatedly at his poor heart whenever Lucy gushed and dressed up to the nine for her upcoming dates, he would be her biggest supporter and the shoulder for her to lean on if the dates ended up in an unfavoring note. As long as she kept smiling and being happy, he would bottle up those unrequited feelings of his to be by her side.

That’s why, it threw him the fuck off to feel the lingering pressure on his tingling lips, and a hovering scantily-cladded Lucy all flushed up over his rapidly heated body.

It was midnight when he crawled into her bed through her left opened window as usual. His partner would already be out cold for her much needed beauty sleep, hence, lessen the painful possibilities of him receiving a Lucy-kick to the face and leaving all aching on the floor when he only wanted to fall peacefully asleep for eight-hours straight.

Ever since Lucy came into his life, her comforting scent of pure honey and vanilla had always left a calming effect on his alerted senses, a privilege he long forgotten from when Igneel disappeared. Her presence smelled like home and safety, and the fact that every corner of her apartment drenched in those uniquely-Lucy scent had made his inner dragon yipped happily at the newfound nest.

The revelation of feeling pure energy coursing through his veins, fire magic roaring deep inside his core and his every senses sharpened like never before, when he rediscovered what uninterrupted sleep until the morning light feel like after curiously crashing on Lucy’s bed, had kept him greedily coming back for more.

Luckily for him, his constant sneaking in had somehow miraculously grown on the blonde when she seemingly lessened her violent attempts in kicking him out, and started to leave his side of the bed, next to the window, unoccupied as time went on.

So he did his usual nightly ritual of kicking off his sandals, stripping off his day jacket, and climbing into his spot underneath her pink comforter. The alluring warmth of Lucy’s body heat and her homely scent filled his nostrils, weighing down his eyelids and unwinding the stiff muscles as he slowly succumbed to the sleeping spell.

But something about this night seemed different. His instinct commanded his lethargic mind and foggy senses to stay alert, which puzzled Natsu greatly as he was just in bed with Lucy, and there were no immediate dangers around them because he had scented the air around her apartment previously as part of his routine.

He tried to pinpoint the cause, trusting the instinct which had saved him many times out in the wilderness and battlefields, and surprisingly found out that his blonde partner was still awake, the air around her buzzing with anticipation and nervousness.

If it was anyone else, they wouldn’t have found out anything from the blonde’s still posture and turned back. But he had been (illegally) sleeping next to her for quite some time now, he had long memorized her breathing patterns to know whether she was awake or not (a necessary skill that had saved him from those painful Lucy-kicks from time to time). And with that knowledge, he knew for sure she wasn’t asleep.

It’s odd that Lucy of all people was still awake at this time, her energy was even making him grown nervous, but he didn’t dare to voice out lest he lost his chance of sleeping in her bed for the night. Maybe she ate something funny and her aching tummy was what keeping her awake, or she was just feeling constipated, it happened sometimes, which was something she had drunkenly admitted to him after drinking with the alcoholic Cana.

Nevertheless, he laid still and waited for the weirdo to fall back to sleep for whatever reasons. But life was never easy as he soon felt the celestial wizard shifting her weight, gradually moving closer to his own until her hands planted firmly on each side of his head, the tips of her hair tickling his face.

Natsu was sweating bullets at this point but he was determined to hold strong on a relaxed facade. But Mavis, it was torturous to feel her hot breath fanning across his cheeks, honey vanilla scent with a mix of minty toothpaste overwhelming his senses as he struggled to not open his damn eyes out of curiosity.

And then out of nowhere, the feeling of something pillowy soft pressed against his stilled lips, albeit disappointingly quick, jarring him awake immediately and that’s how he found himself in this shocking and unbelievable circumstance.

Back to the present, Natsu watched his partner’s doe brown eyes growing impossibly large, red spreading like wildfire all over the milky white of her skin to the top of her cleavage, as she sputtered to find words.

However, of all things he expected her to say, he couldn’t understand for the life of him the reason his heart was flooded with overwhelming feeling of disappointment when she stammerly said this was a dream.

It’s shameful to admit that this was not the first time Natsu had such lucid and realistic dreams about his bombshell of a partner. Some of them borderline indecent as his suppressed feelings and desire for his partner seemingly roaring to life within the haven of his mind.

He wondered if his act of crawling into her bedroom in the first place was even real, or if it's just a figment of his hyperactive imagination and habitual routine. Maybe he was still at the guild, being knocked unconscious on the floor by Erza after brawling with Ice Princess, and he would soon wake up from this sweet dream any moment now.

Disappointment turned into frustration as Natsu bemoaned the hellish mental cycle he had masochistically subjected himself to by falling for his blonde celestial princess. If he couldn’t have her in real life, at least he could selfishly experience what they could have been within his mind.

“After all, Lucy will never like me back.” Fuck it.

It seemed he had voiced his thoughts out loud, when her parting lips slipped a confusing squeak, before he pulled her down to crush their lips together, teeth and all.

Dream Lucy was shy and stiff in front of his advancement, soft pillowy lips subjected to his own sucking and massaging as he encouraged her petals to move.

One of his tanned hands cupped the side of her jawline, thumb rubbing circular motion into her sensitive skin, alternately switching to capturing and rubbing her small ear, and her mouth soon fell open to let his wiry tongue eagerly slid in to explore her steaming wet orifice.

If he could forever have her sweet flavor imprinted on his taste buds, feeling her plush body molding every feminine curve to his own hard lines, he would give anything to never wake up from this sweet, indulging dream.

His lungs burned with the need for air from their heated lips lock, forcing Natsu to pull their face apart momentarily but not before giving a teasing suck to her plump bottom lips, a string of saliva stretched erotically between their gaping mouth as they panted hardly, greedily suckled in the much needed oxygen for their foggy minds.

This could easily be the best dream of his partner he had ever had before. Everything was so realistic that it sent euphoric tingles through his shivering heated body, down to the tips of his fingers that were still cupping and tracing Dream Lucy’s soft cheeks fondly.

Dream Lucy’s expression was all dazed and full of confusion as she looked down at him, pearly teeth sinking into her pink petal - a bad habit where she tended to gnaw the flesh to bloodiness when she’s trying to figure something out. It made him all the more filled with feral desire to break the habit with his persuading lips, wanting nothing more than to dove in that wet addicting cavern to pull the cutest mewls and moans from her once more.

“If this is all just a dream, please let me dream a little more” He managed to rasped out his selfish wish to any deities willing to listen, before he pulled her back down to mesh their mouths against one another.

Natsu’s other wandering hand slid from her bicep to follow the sensual curve of her round breast, before cupping a handful of pliant, overflowing flesh between his palm, giving it a hearty squeeze.

That’s when he felt small hands pushing off frantically against his frame, the most alarming phrase he ever heard cut through the still night “Natsu, stop!!”

Never before in any of his dreams did Lucy sound panic and full of confusion during their makeouts, if anything, she was all eager to reciprocate his attention and handsy, which would lead the dreams to a very steamy note and his boxers painfully tight the next morning.

Something was definitely wrong and the revelation had his arms slackened to let the blonde escape from his crushing hold before. Natsu watched as Lucy shuffled off him, hands covering her chest as if shielding her body from him, the action tugged something painfully in his chest as a reminder that the blonde might be uncomfortable with him now.

He was just glad that she still sat at the end of the bed and not running off to put even more distance between them. Biles rose up his throat and all he wanted was to run away from the fucked up situation where he almost jumped his “dream” girl without consent, and potentially burned to the ground any of his chances with the blonde.

After a moment of tense silence, it honestly jolted the fuck out of Natsu to have Lucy grasped his hand, her beautiful face pensive but redden all over like blooming rose as she quietly breathed out “I don’t understand..What make you act like that Natsu?”

He was sure his face was nearly aflame as the girl in front of him, jumbling mind frantically finding ways to wheeze out of this embarrassing situation. He tried tugging his hand out but the blonde had tightened her grip, shy expression now turned defiance and he just knew he wouldn’t find a way out of this until she knew the truth. Damn her stubbornness and his inability to refuse her.

“Geez Lucy..Are you really going to make me say it? Can’t you just figure it out yourself with that brilliant brain of yours?” His last attempt of redirecting the subject was futile as Lucy seemed to regain her confidence, both of her hands now moved to his shoulders, lifting to her knees and staring down at his hunched form “No Natsu. I want to -no, I need to hear you say it.”

Knowing this was already a losing battle from the start, Mavis forbid he would cave faster than the Ice Princess could strip with just a gaze into those molten pool of chocolate, Natsu decided to resign his fate and hoped for the best that this wouldn’t burn their relationship to the ground.

Hands running through his already messed up, he took a deep breath readying for his next words while petulantly turning his head away from the blonde, desperately hoped that it would somehow soften the pain if his dream girl decided to reject “Man, I’m never good with words ya know. But the truth is..I have sorta had feelings for ya for a while now.” And like a dam opened up, words kept spilling out of his mouth unhindered “And it’s not the normal feeling when I’m around others! There’s this sort of weird urge inside me of wanting to be around you all the time, wanna see ya laugh and smile and be happy, wanna..please you in any possible ways..That’s where those dreams came in and I sorta acted out..

Natsu badly wanted to clam up and disappear to wherever the hell his dragon father was, cause he definitely fucked up big time. But the frozen shocked expression and the impossibly widening gaze of Lucy’s doe brown eyes forced him to continue, trying to salvage anything left of their now potentially ruined friendship.

“Fuck..I didn’t mean to spew all of that and make ya uncomfortable Lucy. I..I meant what I said, but you can forget them. No-nothing has to change! We’d still be best friend and-“ He didn’t realize he was short of breath and body heating up out of embarrassment until he felt two cool palms pressed against his cheeks, effectively stopping his rambling.

“Natsu, it’s okay. Calm down and take a breath” Following the blonde’s instruction, he took a deep breath and felt his nerves calmed down significantly from the action. But he couldn’t bring himself to look into her beautiful brown eyes, afraid to see the disappointment and pity welled up in those orbs, so he kept his gaze resolute down his laps.

“Nastu, look at me..” The feel of her soft hands gently nudged his face up and her soft croon had Natsu reluctantly lifted his stare up to her. Instead of a pitiful expression, he was stunned to find Lucy was looking at him tenderly, an adoration-filled smile graced her pretty face, so much that he almost missed her next question “Why would you think I want to forget?”

Swallowing harshly, he contemplated on baring his heart, fearing that she would be chased away after hearing such reasons, but her non judgemental gaze and kind demeanor encouraged him: “It’s just..I would never fit in the type of guys you usually go on dates with. I know how much you like intelligence, gentleman-ty and calmness in your relationships, and I’m none of that. But I’m fine with not being more, as long as I can still be your friend, that’s enough”

He didn’t know what he expected at the end of his long rant, but the feeling of pillowy soft lips pressed momentarily against him was certainly not one. His Lucy came into focus again when they pulled apart, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck and her comfortable warm weight now settled neatly on his crossed legs.

“Oh Natsu, I thought those were what I wanted, but apparently you were what I needed. I..I also have feelings for you too, more than friends to be exact, and I was just late to realize that. So..so I hope you know hearing you say that really make me happy, and I don’t want to forget” The blazing blush adorning Lucy’s bashful face was oh so endearing, along with the rush of oxytocin coursing through his veins from her confession, had had him surging forward to captured her lips, arms tightening around her frame as he pulled them down to lay on her bed.

The kiss was more teeth than lips as they couldn’t fight the wide-stretch grins off their faces from the mutual reciprocated feelings. When the two of them pulled apart, Natsu couldn’t help but stare at the girl in front of him in amazement, head still reeling with the fact that he had just kissed his best friend and they would definitely be doing that repeatedly, and more, now that she’s his girl.

He was certain the dopey grin etched on her face mirroring his perfectly and he gathered her closer in his arms, dropping a chaste peck on the blonde head laying on his bicep and inhaling her wonderful scent deeply just because he could. “Sorry for groping you earlier without permission. I really didn’t mean to and thought it was all a dream” He trailed the back of his unoccupied hand along her cheeks, knuckles slightly rough against smooth skin, a content warmth spreading throughout his chest cavity as he watched Lucy nuzzling into the contact.

“You’re so sweet. And I wasn’t upset earlier, just surprised is all” A lone finger with pink-painted tip absentmindedly dragged down his chest, pulling an involuntary shiver from him from the ticklish sensation, and a dormant carnal desire was stirred awaked in the depth of his belly as Natsu focused on Lucy’s plump pinkesh flesh being bitten in between her teeth. “I..I wouldn’t mind letting you do it again! Just not right now since I’m not ready.”

Her outburst was unexpected and he chuckled heartily at the way she buried her heated cheeks into his chest, feeling adoration and happiness swelled up his heart at her cute display “Damn Lucy, you’re such a cute weirdo. My cute weirdo, and you betcha I’ll hold onto that. You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to “please” and worship you in every way. Just let me know when you’re ready and say the words.”

He unashamedly admitted, his inner dragon giving an approval growl, obviously took pride in the fact that he managed to make Lucy squirm by his candid words. An unmistakable mouth-watering scent of arousal emitting from her had nearly made him lose control.

But he would be strong and force his insurmountable desire to covet and smother the girl in his arms with love and darkening pleasure. After all, they had all the time in the world to explore now that he finally got the girl of his dream to be his and his only.

[cooki3face]

Community does not need this!! But they’re loud in the comments about how harmful this could be for the community and divination and other spiritual practices and traditions! Thankfully!! I was just talking about spiritual psychosis on my close friends on Instagram yesterday and then I see things like this and post just went viral of some woman absolutely losing it, snot running out her nose and everything over the eclipse.

The fear mongering and demonization of spiritual teachings, astrology, tarot and spiritual practices and traditions is about to start becoming very big. It was already a really prominent thing oppressors have used for ages especially against poc who practice forms of witchcraft or deity worship they brought with them from home. I was just watching a docu-series yesterday that highlighted how the native population on mt. Shasta were forced to leave and practiced ritual and held ceremonies in the caves of mount Shasta and those who colonized would go into those caves after they left and preform mockeries of their ceremonies and rituals as entertainment.

We’re about to step into a reality and time where spiritual people, practitioners and others within the community will be replacing celebrities and individuals of high rank or people who hold a lot of power in this world and I said before that the oppressor has a very specific recipe for oppression and trying to keep people (especially in the west) as unaware and as stuck in perpetual karmic cycles and systems as much as possible. And this is just yet another technique they use to discredit individuals with gifts. They use psychics and astrologers and others themselves to help them predict and interpret what’s coming.

They use these types of stories or ideas to fuel radical religious beliefs and ideas that are built upon fear mongering and hatred, they use religious institutions and manipulated versions of their Bible and beliefs and create division within the west. Vast majority of republicans are statistically uneducated and are conservative who hold onto heavy religious beliefs and views to back up, support and justify their actions and beliefs. Heavily similar to antebellum America and the justification of slavery and the mistreatment of African American people.

To add onto that, this movie about tarot does not accurately portray what tarot really is and how it works whatsoever but guess who’ll believe it and perpetuate it. Half the negative ideas that are swirling around about metaphysical, Wiccan or spiritual practices are due to pop culture and horror movies and the individuals who sit at their desks in the dark scribbling away these plots and releasing these movies.

[ge]

the domesticity of a post-war tangchung ARGGGHHHh

travelling across china together... they may not have the strength they used to, but they have each other. when chung myung suffers from phantom pain, tang bo is there to massage him, and chung myung is the one to press warm compress and clean the area around tang bo's blind eye.

& everyday tasks done with each other's help!!!! tang bo meticulously doing chung myung's hair, and chung myung putting his hand around the other's waist in case tang bo might stumble on anything.

if chung myung still suffers from his canon hallucinations i think tang bo would actively ask what who said and reply as well

im about to pass out ..cant even begin to tell u how much i think about tangchung caring for each other daily…

i keep rereading this over and over god ur soooo crazy i dont even know wat else to say cuz u already said it all… tangchung taking care of each other post war is soo dear to me it always hits me how if one of them didnt have the other theyd barely be able to function as they did before..a machine without its cog

a little off topic but i always imagined post war, theyd take several year long trips (those several year long trips can vary from like five years to even one to two decades idk immortals r nuts) away from mount hua just to travel and see the country together but in the end theyd always return home to oversee the rebuilding of mount hua (as well as the tang clan) and maybe even train a few disciples while theyre there..

in the new generation era i feel like the last time tangchung were at mt hua was when baek cheon was young and had just joined and the next time they come back is when the five swords r all at their early canon ages, practically vibrating out of their clothes cuz ‘omgee the plum blossom sword saint and the dark saint are finally returning to mount hua’ and when tangchung finallyreturn theyre wearing dirty old travel worn hemp commoners robes with mussed up windblown hair and the disciples r like who r these hobos…

very sweet to imagine tangchung deciding to hunker down at mount hua for a while longer than they usually would because at that point, theyre both coming up on two centuries of age and r older than they used to be.. they have already seen everything together twice over atp so they stay and train and take on the new kids as their personal disciples and canon happens as it started, just w the addition of pbss and amzone hehehehe.. thats not to say tangchung wdnt still travel ofc but they wouldnt go far and wuld always come back sooner cuz now they have some snot noses brats to look after raaaahhhhhhh

[chrisbangs]

it’s 7:30 in the morning i’m really just sitting on my bed staring at my hands shaking huh

[murfeelee]

BLEACH - Ichigo vs Renji: Episode 16d

(Renji) Passing your Soul Reaper powers to a human is a grave sin, Rukia! Be glad the higher ups were compassionate, and let US handle this, and not the Execution Squad. Tell us where the human is. (Rukia) NO! (Renji) Don't even try to protect him! The next move I make with this blade will be fatal! (Ichigo) Stop right there! (Renji) Just who are you?! (Ichigo) The name's Ichigo. I'm the one that's gonna beat your a**! How's it going? (Renji) Ohhhh! You're the snot-nosed little brat who took Rukia's powers, aren't ya, Carrot-Top? Man, you are as dumb as they come! Rukia came out here on her own, so you wouldn't get involved. But YOU had to come play the hero! *ATTACKS!* (Renji) Come on, what's wrong? Is that overgrown sword just for show!? You should've stayed put at home. You're not a Reaper, you're a FAKE! There's no way you could hurt a REAL Shinigami; you couldn't even lay a SCRATCH on one of u--! *SLASH!* (Ichigo) Sorry for interrupting. I know you were saying something about a scratch? I apologize. Why don't you continue? 

MY THOUGHTS & CC CREDITS

MY THOUGHTS

Renji’s got alotta nerve calling Ichigo Carrot-Top, when he’s the official “Red Pineapple” of Bleach! XD

There’s quite a few random AF fruit references in Bleach--Ichigo’s name means “Strawberry” in Japanese, for example. But Tite Kubo was inspired by Dragonball, and all of the Saiyans’ names come from vegetables, too. So it tracks, I guess. XD

CC CREDITS

- HUGE shoutout to the amazing Swordfighting mod at MTS!

[yukimoji]

My World: Part 1 ( Tanjiro Kamado x Reader )

(a/n: hello! “my world” is a mini two part series! this was inspired after listening to some of my favorite opm songs on repeat lol. part 2 will be coming soon! hope you all enjoy!)

Part 1 I 2 I 3

Total words: 3937 words

Genre: Fluff

No manga spoilers

!!Slight mentions of Blood and Death!!

--

You've never really considered the possibility of true love coming to you all your life.

Growing up in a demon-infested world, life seemed to be fond of throwing you into hardships and struggle. Sure, some may argue that what breaks us makes us even stronger. However, every time you came face to face with a demon, all the horrors of the world would slap you in the face.

Life was rough, to be frank. Losing your family, the agony of training to death, and the endless amount of missions that never seemed to end. All this has taken a huge toll on you, as you become even more frustrated the longer you fight.

Even in the midst of those moments of uncertainty, you've seen rays of sunlight peeking through the dark and gloomy clouds. The way you watched children play around every time you visit a new location, the way laughter and joy was abundant despite the ever-growing threat, or even the way some people would cling to you to sing praises of gratitude after being rescued from a demon would always warm your heart.

These little bits of happiness can bring just the smallest of smiles to your face, and you were secretly hoping that maybe soon, you will also be happy and enjoy the warmth of love that would've had surrounded you without a care in the world.

But you could only hope, only dream. You can't stop fighting for even just a second.

Not when your life is still in the hands of danger. Not when there's a likelihood of a horrible and painful death looming over you.

You're not going to stop until you have avenged your family and the numerous deaths that Muzan Kibutsuji has inflicted upon humanity.

You've never really considered the possibility of true love coming to you all your life, but that seemed to have changed when you finally met him.

Tanjiro Kamado is a peculiar boy.

The first time you met him, you were sent on a mission at Mt. Natagumo with several other slayers. You were in a rough shape, after seeing how your comrades were turned against each other and were ruthlessly murdered in front of your very eyes. You couldn't move after being badly injured from a rouge katana stabbing you somewhere in your body. Pain and suffering was the only thing you could feel in that moment, and it seemed like your life had flashed before your eyes.

Minutes later, in front of you, a glimpse of a green and black checkered haori appeared. A boy wearing hanafuda-like earrings that seemed to twinkle and reflect the rays of moonlight with every slightest movement. He had Burgundy locks, which seemed to be swaying from the cool breeze, a red scar adorning his forehead, and a dashing pair of crimson eyes that gazed at you with such concern. 

The powerful emotion directed towards you seemed to have left you breathless.  The next thing you know, you've been taken away to a safe location where no one could hurt you.

"Stay here, okay? Don't move too much or you'll get even more hurt." His voice trailed off, holding you so delicately, as though you were about to fall apart at any moment. He looked worried, his nose wrinkled, and his lips was in a hard line when he saw how much you were in a horrible state. Then, looking at you, he smiled softly.

"I'm going to go now and find help, okay?" You could only nod and stare helplessly as he stood up and ran, presumably trying to find help.

And then, everything went dark.

You were in the Butterfly Estate's Ward the next time you saw him. Miraculously, as you were lying motionlessly in your safe position, the Kakushi came and got you all patched up. You were then taken to the Butterfly Estate to heal and rest.

But it seemed that recovery itself was a challenge.

You had a hard time sleeping, because a certain blonde-haired boy, whom you later learned to be named Zenitsu, kept screaming and whining to the poor girls who had given his medicine. Apparently, he was almost turned into a spider and the medicine was supposed to help him go back to his regular form.

"I GOTTA TAKE THIS FIVE TIMES? A DAY?! AND I HAVE TO KEEP TAKING THIS MEDICINE FOR THREE MONTHS??! IF I TAKE THIS, I CAN'T EAT ANYTHING YOU KNOW! I MEAN, IT'S REALLY BITTER! IT'S SUCH AN ORDEAL!!"

You could just stare in disappointment at the ceiling. Zenitsu's eyes exploded up in tears as he proceeded to have a tantrum, leaving the poor butterfly girl sweating in front of him, not knowing what to do. If you weren't hurt and just mainly having a bad time, you'd have already smacked the guy for his childish behavior.

Laying after an empty bed besides you, the boy with the boar-head, Inosuke, did not seem fazed at all. But then, you also discovered that the poor soul had his throat crushed by a demon. You could only assume that he was also beyond tired to even deal with Zenitsu's antics.

"SO, YOU MEAN MY ARMS AND LEGS WILL HEAL JUST BY TAKING MEDICINE? FOR REAL?! LISTEN, ARE THEY REALLY GONNA HEAL? TELL ME HOW THEY'RE GONNA BE HEALED!"

"Please stop shouting, will you?" The butterfly girl spoke out, attempting to calm the aggressive boy down.

After what seemed like an eternity of wails, Aoi and a pair of Kakushi came into the ward, one of them carrying a very familiar boy behind his back.

Your eyes widened when you saw the boy who rescued you calling out to Zenitsu. You didn't even hear Aoi scolding Zenitsu, who was whimpering and trembling in his bed sheets. Aoi left the ward annoyed with a huff, and you just stared at the kind boy as he was put down on the floor and went on to have a conversation with Zenitsu.

Judging from their discussion, Zenitsu and the other boy appeared to be friends. Zenitsu started to ramble about how mean Aoi was, and the Burgundy hairy boy realized how small his friend had become. You could just look away when the snot started to spill out of the rowdy blonde's nose.

However, as soon as you turned away, Crimson eyes found your exhausted body lying a few beds away, and his eyes gleamed as he remembered you as the slayer he had rescued the night before. He sighed in relief, because you were still alive even after all those injuries.

He observed your form, and he picked up the scent of exhaustion coming from you. Who wouldn't be? He wondered. He was just glad that he managed to save you in time, after seeing how countless slayers were murdering each other, he's just happy that he managed to save one more life.

But apart from fatigue, he couldn't help but pick up the scent of resentment and sadness surrounding you. He came to understand that your friends and comrades were all gone, not to mention that you may have lost all of your family, too. If there's someone who can understand you, it's him, because he's also lost his family and his sister became a demon.

After cleaning up, it was his mission to befriend you at all costs. He went into the ward and took the bed next to you and Inosuke. Per usual, Zenitsu was already bawling, and Inosuke continued to be in a sour mood.

You, on the other hand, could only look at the ceiling with a dark shadow cast on your face that the hanafuda-clad slayer could only assume to have been irritation caused by his blonde partner. As he claimed his bed, he turned and grinned softly towards you.

"Hello!" He greeted enthusiastically.

You get startled and pulled out of your thoughts of murder, as you tilt your head only to be greeted by the bright expression of the boy next to you.

Jesus, this boy could rival the sun with the warm and inviting aura he had.

"I'm glad you're all right! My name is Tanjiro Kamado, what's yours?" he introduced himself happily, leaving you speechless as to how friendly and cheerful this boy was.

"...[ Y / N ]. [ Y / N ] [ L / N ]." You manage to blurt out. Tanjiro's eyes sparkled, and his smile grew even more.

"EHHHH??! SO THE PRETTY GIRL CAN TALK! AND HERE I THOUGHT I'M NEVER GOING TO HEAR HER WONDERFUL VOICE!" Zenitsu cries out in excitement, laughing and waving about to himself as a vein started to pop out from your neck.

"SHUT UP, MONITSU! I'M TRYING TO SLEEP HERE!" Inosuke yelled out, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at Zenitsu's face, effectively shutting him up.

Tanjiro could only chuckle nervously, as Inosuke grumbled in irritation and Zenitsu muttering out little whines after Inosuke's outburst.

"We're sorry about that, they're always like that." Tanjiro explained, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "Anyway, what a pretty name! It's nice to meet you, [ Y / N ]- san! I hope we can friends!" He exclaimed happily.

You flush at his words and looked down in embarrassment, but then, you paled when realization hit you like a brick.

You never thanked him for saving you.

You whip your head towards the boy, your brows knitted together in determination.

"I never thanked you for saving me, Kamado-san! I am deeply grateful for your generosity! I owe you my life!" you proclaimed and bowed your head, leaving Tanjiro raising his hands in reassurance.

"Oh no, it's fine! Really!" He sweats, "And you can call me Tanjiro, you know!"

--

After that encounter, you seemed to have grown closer to the trio. During your time in the ward, you spent much of your time talking and joking around. After a while, Inosuke became arrogant and wild, which you discovered was his "natural" self. Often his attempts to pick fights bugs you to no end, and it doesn't stop there as Zenitsu has been even more irritating ever since you first spoke to the Burgundy-haired boy.

"[ Mispronounced Name ]!! I DARE YOU TO FIGHT ME RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW!"

"[ Y / N ]- chan~! You look pretty today!"

"COME ON AND LET'S SEE IF YOU CAN TRULY BEAT THE GREAT INOSUKE, [ Mispronounced Name ]!"

"[ Y / N ]-chan, Inosuke is being mean to me again, can you please comfort me?"

"Why are you looking at my face like that, [Mispronounced Name]?!"

"You would marry me, right [ Y / N ]-chan?!"

You pass. No thanks.

As days go by, you and Tanjiro would grow even closer, as your friendship with him continued to grow. He was a very open friend. He's also sweet, caring, charming, not to mention he worries about others before he could even think about himself!

"Inosuke, do you want to eat more? Here! Have some of my Tempura!"

"Zenitsu, please, stop crying! You're getting the poor girls into unnecessary trouble!"

"Oh, you wanted to me to accompany you to Shinobu-san, [ Y / N ]? Sure! I'll be with you all the way!"

God, does this boy do bring a big smile on you face.

He would also tell stories of adventures, describing each event with such vivid detail. You could only listen in awe as he proceeded to tell you how hard he trained in order to join the Demon Slayer Corps.

You gazed in silence as you observed the Tanjiro's calloused hands. He must have endured and suffered so much, maybe even more so than you did. The boy just remained there, a tiny smile on his face as he proceeded to show his hands for you.

You gulp, and averted your gaze from his hands to make eye contact with him.

"It must have been really hard, huh?" You whispered, the corners of your mouth pulled down as you stared at the boy, an unreadable emotion present in your eyes.

Tanjiro only chuckled as he pulled his hands back.

"Yeah, it was really tough. But come to think of it, my hands are proof of all the hard work I've put into being a Demon Slayer. Sure, sometimes I felt like dying and even giving up, but the fact that I've reached where I am now just gives me the confidence to go even further to help those in need. " He explained.

He lifts his hand and glances at it. His eyes were filled with determination as he recalled why he had become a Demon Slayer in the first place. Confidence overtook his expression when he broke his eyes from his palm and smiled at you.

"My hands are a reminder that I will never stop fighting for the safety of humans. I will always protect them, so that they can never witness the kind of horrors that we as demon slayers have to go through."

Your praised his sense of selflessness. In this life full of hardships, it was rare to find somebody as genuine and kind like Tanjiro. It was a trait that you admired wholeheartedly. With him, it seemed like your whole world would light up because of the sheer amount of positivity he would radiate.

It seemed, for a moment, that your dark and cruel world had taken a turn. In the blink of an eye, you've been welcomed with smiles and snippets of joy every time you interact with the boys. Your laughter became more frequent, not a dull hour would pass by, as you would find yourself becoming more fond of the crimson-eyed slayer.

You'd get to learn more about Tanjiro and his history later on. The boy's face would always light up by the mention of his family, and he would still be fond telling stories of his memories of the time they were still alive. The guy's got five siblings! 5!

Now, you truly understood how much patience the boy had with his two companions. Hearing him talking about his family gave you a sad sense of longing, and soon enough, you also opened up to him about how you, too, had a family, and that they were also killed by demons.

You told him stories, memories that just seemed like scattered visions located on a distant shore. You'd feel the sides of your mouth pulling up, your solemn [E / C] eyes showing a nostalgic light in them. Tanjiro would laugh every time you mentioned how much of a rucus your siblings were, would smile at you with delight as you mentioned your everyday life, and would nod in agreement as you recalled of your love-filled memories that happened a long time ago.

It was nice to know, though, that you had someone who could relate to your loss of family.

Speaking of family, you also had the opportunity to meet Nezuko, the little demon sister of Tanjiro. You have to confess that the thought of a demon battling alongside a demon slayer made you laugh at first. There was a reason why you became a demon slayer, and that is to slay any demon you meet in order to protect human beings.

You've been in conflict with the situation for the first few days of getting to know Nezuko. Your instincts were screaming at you to get a sword and just kill her then and there, but you also realized she wasn't like any other demons. If Oyakata-sama seemed to approve of her presence, then maybe you might come to accept her as well.

Tanjiro has taken note of your behavior towards Nezuko, but he can't blame you. Your family was killed by demons, so you had every right to be suspicious of Nezuko. He was grateful, however, that you took restraint and tried to accommodate her, despite his keen sense of smell telling him that you're more than ready to put an end to her demon life.

It seemed like Nezuko also wanted to be your friend. During the nights where you can't sleep, you would always go to the rooftop and gaze at the starry sight above. Not long after you arrive, the demon girl would find you and she would sit beside you, accompanying you the whole time.

The first few times, you were tense towards her. As much as you respect Tanjiro and Oyakata-sama's wishes, her status as a demon still bothered you to no end. Nevertheless, you would just let her accompany her because you knew that she had no malicious intent towards you. She seemed to understand your conflicted feelings towards her, as she would just sit and stare at the sky the entire time the two of you would sit at the roof, never once trying to force you to interact with her.

However, one interaction made you view Nezuko in a whole different light.

You wake up in the middle of the night, whimpering, soaked in cold sweat. You've had another nightmare, a vivid flashback of your mangled family dead in your old home. You sighed softly, and you looked around the ward to see the trio still sleeping soundly. A few minutes pass, and you realized you couldn't fall asleep again right away.

You got out of bed stealthily, and you went to your sanctuary, where you would eventually meet the demon girl again for the hundredth time.

You sat down on the edge dejectedly when you arrived. You've had this same kind of nightmare too many times, but the sight of your family lying helplessly dead in their blood pool always gets to you. Your lower lip quivers, brows buried together as you try to fight back the tears threatening to spill out. You cover your face as you try to calm yourself down, but a hand pats your back to console you.

You're shaking when you turn your head and come face to face with Nezuko. Sadness clouded her eyes, little "mmhm"s coming out of her bamboo muzzle, as if she was trying to say it was all right;

"You're going to be all right."

You looked at her, and wondered, how could a demon look so human? Her hand on your back proceeded to caress you in a circular motion, her eyes held so much compassion and kindness that you almost forgot she was a demon.

But that doesn't matter anymore.

You broke out crying, warm, thick tears falling from your eyes. You hiccuped and sniffled, already racked up with sobs. Nezuko didn't waste any time and embraced you, and you embraced back almost instantly. Your cries echoed in the night sky, and you're weeping so hard that your tears are staining Nezuko's kimono. But the girl never stopped, and she just remained there and comforted you the whole time.

Once you finally calmed down, you sat there for a little longer, gazing up at the night sky. Nezuko was still sitting beside you, just like what she did when she spent time with you on the roof. You pulled your eyes away from the stars, and you gazed at Nezuko. She stared at the tranquility of the stars above and was happy with it. You're sighing softly, now feeling foolish to have ever doubt the girl.

"Nezuko-chan?"

The demon averts her gaze from the sky, and looks at you, her head tilting to the side slightly. Her rose-colored eyes flickering with concern. You gulp, and shamely looked down.

"I'm sorry. For ever doubting you. I guess you really are something special, huh?"  You apologized, a flush creeping up to your face as you looked down in embarrassment.

"Mmhm!" Nezuko just hummed, when you looked up to see that she was giving you a happy expression. She put her hand on top of your head and began to rub it in a reassuring manner. You could only just chuckle fondly at her actions.

When she pulled her hand back, it was your turn to pat on her head. Her eyes widened momentarily, before she let out a joyful noise, lifting both of her arms to victory. You chuckled at her adorable shenanigans as you continued to bond with the affectionate demon.

Little do you know, a pair of crimson red eyes gazed at both of you, watching you interact with Nezuko. Tanjiro felt a sense of satisfaction, seeing how much you seem to care for Nezuko now. But he couldn't help but feel a funny sensation in his chest. Seeing all of you happy and treating Nezuko like your own sister made him feel something.

He could only look in admiration as you laughed and played with Nezuko, his sister always happily reciprocating any little pleasant interaction you would have granted her. He smiled, seeing how happy you were and how you seemed to glow under the moonlight.

You looked absolutely beautiful.

Come to think about it, he grew rather fond of you these past few weeks. The way you would light up at a joke, the way you would scrunch up your face with irritation, and even the way where you would listen to him with such concentration when he's reminiscing about his family seemed to make him feel funny and warm all over. Your little actions and quirks had Tanjiro hooked, and with every little adorable action you do, it would make the burgundy-haired boy grow even fonder for you.

It also didn't help that when he found you at Mt. Natagumo, his initial thought was, well, that you looked very pretty. Although, he suppressed this thoughts towards you because, well, you were such in a rough state and he was beyond worried. It was not the time to be a Zenitsu when you were hurting so much!

Wait, pretty? Fondness? Affection???

Tanjiro looked away from the wonderful sight, and proceeded to run back to the ward. His face reddened and he put a hand on his chest. His heart was beating like crazy! He couldn't believe what he was feeling towards the [ H / C ]-haired girl!

As he arrived, he instantly covered his face with his blanket, trying to make sense of the warm, fuzzy feeling he would get every time he thought of you.

He couldn't help but think of your wonderful smile. God, how much he had grown to love your smile! And the way your eyes would flutter, the way you giggle at even the most ridiculous joke, and how you would just- ugh!

He could only cover his face with his hands in embarrassment as he proceeded to have sweet yet confusing thoughts about you. He felt he was going mad, and he's trying to make sense of his emotions towards you.

He realizes something in the midst of his breakdown. He recalls how the couples at Asakusa would intertwine with each other, how Kazumi cried out for his deceased fiance, and the memory of how his mother and father would look at each other with such devotion and tenderness while overlooking him and his siblings. The way all the couples portrayed themselves in his life reminded him of how he would think and feel about you.

He widened his eyes as a quick gasp escaped his lips. His face flushed more and more out from the revelation as he desperately tried to calm himself down from the intense surge of emotions overwhelming him.

And in that moment, it was clear.

That he, Tanjiro Kamado, now wished the whole world for [ Y / N ] [ L / N ].

[sibyl-of-space]

Final Fantasy IX ~ Melodies and Memories

"Jesters of the Moon"

There are a lot of very good video games in the world, but it takes some luck and circumstance outside of a game's control for one to reach me at just the right time(s) and place(s) in my life that it has a tangible impact on who I am -- who I want to be. One that carves out a space for itself in my soul that will never be removed or replaced.

I've just finished playing Final Fantasy IX for the first time, and there's no doubt in my mind that such is the case here.

(Continued below readmore.)

I drew this art last year, when I was mourning my attachment to an old favorite game that I just don't feel the same way about anymore: Majora's Mask. I wanted to draw something that captured my feelings about it, because sometimes art is the best way to talk about something when the words don't want to come.

Why is "Jesters of the Moon," the name of a random song in the Final Fantasy IX soundtrack, plastered in the middle of this Majora's Mask fanart? Especially considering I hadn't even played Final Fantasy IX yet when I drew this?

The reason is exactly that "luck and circumstance" that allowed me to fall so uniquely in love with the game.

"Mt. Gulug"

In 2008, someone on YouTube uploaded a Majora's Mask parody-slash-let's-play series called "Majora's Mask: The Things Which Were Taken Out." The series has since become unlisted and won't be linked here out of respect for the creator who probably doesn't want things they said and made in 2008 being spread all over the internet, but because of Unregistered Hypercam 2 reasons, the series inserted other background music over the video and didn't record the actual game audio.

I didn't recognize any of the music, but I watched these parody videos on repeat because in addition to being funny (...at the time, in my mind, at least), I really really loved the music. It got to the point where I would sometimes be playing Majora's Mask and get disappointed when I approached Goht and the Mt. Gulug theme wasn't playing in the background.

I had forgotten about these videos for a really long time in the interim, but I remembered them at some point when I was thinking about Majora's Mask and I found them again. The creator had cited the Final Fantasy IX soundtrack for virtually all of the background music used in the videos, and I realized that despite knowing literally nothing about the game, I had become really fond of - and weirdly nostalgic for - the songs from it that I now recognized.

So I looked up "Jesters of the Moon" and played it on repeat while I drew out my feelings in colored marker. A few months later, I realized that my backwards compatible PS3 can also play PS1 games, and eBay had FFIX for PS1 at a good price. I had nothing to lose by ordering it and seeing what the source of all that fantastic music was like.

"Vamo Alla Flamenco"

I started my playthrough knowing nothing about what to expect from the game. I'd never played a Final Fantasy game before and my overall JRPG experience has been mostly limited to Tales of, Persona, and more recently, mainline Shin Megami Tensei. The only things I knew about Final Fantasy were a) the Tidus laughing scene, and b) Sephiroth. IX seemed like it had vibes I would enjoy, but beyond that I knew nothing about what the experience would be. So I approached it with a "let's have fun and see how it goes" attitude, naming my party members the first silly thing that came to mind, ending up with "Swaggy," "OwO," "Bitchin," "Gunz," and "SWOOORD" to start with.

(For the record I do not regret those names whatsoever.)

I was immediately struck by how differently the game uses music in comparison to all of my previous JRPG experiences. This was not a game where the composer was given a list of theme songs that were slapped on top of a mostly completed game-- this was a game constructed with the soundtrack in mind as a part of the writing process.

The opening act plays almost like an opera (side note, yes I know one of the other FF's has a literal opera, I haven't played that one): you traverse the same locations from different perspectives as different characters, introducing the cast with lighthearted humor and dramatic irony out the wazoo. While you traverse the city as OwO, OwO's theme is playing in the background, coloring your perspective of the city and the narrative. When you switch to Gunz patrolling around the castle, Gunz's theme accompanies your movement and informs his character and mission. I am so accustomed to "location themes" being the norm in virtually all video games that experiencing character and/or narrative themes as BGM instead while I bumble around town changed my entire perspective on what music in games can do and be.

The operatic feeling is definitely intentional, because the game uses a play-within-a-game narrative device to hit you over the head with its themes in a way that is somehow poignant and artful while also being extremely blatant. That is a hard balance to strike, but it manages. The whole game is like that: it is completely straightforward and tells you exactly what it's about at heart, but it does it beautifully.

At any rate, I was enamored with this intro and had a very fun time, but I wasn't obsessed or anything and ended up putting it down. I spent several months on the first half of disk 1 with weeks passing between play sessions. I liked the game plenty, but life stuff happened and I decided to get obsessed with Dai Gyakuten Saiban and Ghost Trick for a while. No regrettis.

It was already clear, though, that FFIX was going to be special to me. My compositions for my team's game in the Global Game Jam in 2021 were directly inspired by FFIX's opera-like intro. I wrote two character themes for our game that would serve as background music when you play as the two protagonists, coloring your journey differently even when moving in the same spaces. I was intentionally trying to mimic the way music is used in FFIX as an exercise. The themes I wrote are definitely some of my strongest work so far.

(You can check out the game here if you want, I promise it is significantly shorter than Final Fantasy IX.)

"Melodies of Life"

Music caused me to pick up FFIX the first time, and music caused me to return to it. After months of not touching or really thinking about it, just earlier this week I was inspired to play it again, because - again - I listened to the right song at the right time.

I was again mourning the loss of something, in this case a friendship, for reasons I'm not going to share here. I had already heard the song "Melodies of Life" because it came up when I was looking up FFIX songs to reblog on Tumblr a few months ago, and I decided to listen to it again. Even without knowing the game context, the song itself really spoke to me in that moment: "a voice from the past, joining yours and mine, adding up the layers of harmony" - it kind of made me feel at peace with the fact that I had a lot of positive memories of that friendship and I could keep those at heart while also moving on in the present. ...I'm also a sucker for music metaphors, so there is that.

I was really moved by this song, cheesy as it is, and I was also definitely in the mood for a distraction. Picking up FFIX again felt like the best move.

It was, and my life is forever changed.

The game never stopped being beautiful and funny and touching, and the soundtrack never ceased to amaze. I recognized concepts I've seen in other games but never had I seen them used so artfully. I adored the fantasy world and non-human cast, I found myself enticed by random encounter for the first time because it made me feel like I had to struggle to survive a difficult journey. Music, gameplay, visuals, and story felt like one cohesive work of art for the entire duration.

Life circumstances got me to play the game again, but the game itself was so captivating and wonderful that I binged the entire rest of it - disks 2-4 - in less than a week. Everything else that the game had to say, it told me itself, in its own context, and I was ready to listen.

"You're Not Alone!"

This is going to make me sound like an emotionally-stunted twenty-something, but it has been years since a work of media has got me to have a really good cry. I used to cry playing games all the time as a kid but recently I'll find myself getting emotional, sure, often tearing up, but getting completely red-faced and snot-nosed because I physically cannot contain the emotions being evoked by a work? Years. I can't honestly tell you the last time it happened with certainty.

I feel like an emotional band-aid has been ripped off. I was f*cking sobbing during the entire duration of the "You're Not Alone!" sequence. It didn't matter that what was happening was obviously coming from a mile away, because the delivery was so raw and emotional and human!!! A whole game's worth of Swaggy punching first and asking questions later to save his friends, being Protag McProtag endangering himself for others in any and all circumstances, for the payoff of all of his friends forcing him to stop being such a primadonna and let them help him for once. It's true, too! He relies on them just as much as they rely on him! And the game doesn't just tell you this, no, it lets you try to solo all these fights and waits until you realize how boned you are until they come bail you out.

When Bitchin showed up with her "looks like you need a hand" I wanted to straight up yell at my tv. YES I DO!!! YES I DO NEED YOU BITCHIN!!!!! THANK YOU!!!!!!! I half knew that SWOOORD was going to heal me before I got truly KO-ed but I had been unmercifully wiped in "unwinnable" battles before in this game, so I legit thought I might have to re-do that whole part of the game again, and I was so relieved and thankful when she showed up and healed me.

This moment exemplifies everything that I adore about this game. It doesn't just tell you its story. It shows it to you, it sings it to you, and it and lets you play it out and feel it for yourself.

"Game Over"

This song is all too familiar to me. Gizamaluke's Grotto was very unforgiving for a first-time Final Fantasy player, especially one who didn't happen to pick up Big on the way for a fourth party member early on.

I hadn't heard the piano part in a few months, though, because when I picked the game back up I started just mashing to reload before it got to that point any time we wiped. I didn't hear it again until the game was truly over, this time for good.

I let it play for a while. Not too long, because I have a CRT TV and didn't want "The End" to get burned in. But a while. Enough to meditate on what I'd just experienced, and how I was feeling about it.

There's so much more to say about the game, far more than I could put in a blog post. But I don't think I need to describe these thoughts in words. I can do what the game did, and use music, use art, use stories, use metaphors, and use symbols to communicate what I mean; and hope that someone else is able and willing to listen.

And although a written record of my thoughts likely won't be preserved for all that long, maybe the feelings and the memories will be, so long as they have been shared.

[rozsaktov]

childhood memory for... ?? IDK i want to say all.

Don’t drabble or I’ll give you something to drabble about meme. || @maljefe.

    “Mama…! Mama…!”   urged Kseniya, pulling on her mother’s bathrobe, trying to get her attention. Her mother was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette. Mornings at the Lebednitsov home were loud due to the FIVE children that were constantly running about, and Kseniya was the smallest. If she wanted ANY attention, she had to go out there and GET it, and the clever girl already knew that. Mother was rubbing her temple, clearly not amused. 

     “Mama! Mama! Mama!  Vidite na mne, look at me! I want to show you something!”  she said, backing away from her mother and raising her hands over her head, doing a little ballerina twirl like she had seen at the Bol’shoi Theater when the family went on a trip. Mother wasn’t watching… She was staring out the window. Kseniya frowned and dropped her arms. She reached up and pulled on her mother’s bathrobe again, “Mama, mama! I want to sho—”  

     Her mother finally cracked and suddenly back-handed Kseniya across the face, knocking the little girl onto the floor. “Go show someone else! I don’t have TIME for this, Ksyusha. Let your mama drink her coffee!”  

       Kseniya stayed seated on the ground for a little bit, looking up at her mother as a red splotch began to appear on her cheek. The corners of her lips tugged down and her nose burned. She wanted to cry, but mother always told her not to cry or she’d get more reasons to cry, and Kseniya didn’t want that. 

     She pushed herself up onto her hands and knees and stood up slowly, walking away from her mother to go to her room. She’d go show Daddy, but he wasn’t home right now… and her brothers picked on her (as brothers usually do) and her older sister was much too old to want to pay attention to her. Kseniya crawled up the stairs, too small to take them step by step, and let her mama drink her coffee. 

*****

     “Teehehehe…,”  giggled Shuten from where she sat on a huge gourd, swinging her legs and looking out at the little village nestled in the mountains down below. It was so pretty, the way mist rolled over the trees and the pointed rooftops of the town. It was filled with people, she bet — tasty tasty people. As the daughter of the great dragon god Ibuki and a human, Shuten was an entity excluded from her divine family. A demon, they called her. That was fine by her; Shuten knew her place. She had found her place among the Oni of Mt. Ooe, and they told her that one day, she’d be in charge of all of them. 

     Now, that all seemed ridiculous to little Shuten, that she’d be in charge one day. She didn’t care about that. She had one thing on her mind and one thing only. 

     “When can I go down and take one of them…? I’ll take a little one, I don’t care,”  she asked, looking up at the grown Oni standing beside her, her guardian while she was too small to defend herself. The way she swung her legs and the childish tone of her voice would make an eavesdropper think she was talking about anything but abducting a village child and eating them. Shuten licked at her sharp little teeth with her pointed tongue, and her cheeks were pink with desire for human flesh. 

     The Oni standing beside her rested his clawed hand atop her head, “Not much longer, Moon Child. In a few years, we will release you to do as you please, anything you please — to that little village, and to any village you find.”  

     Shuten looked back up at him with glee, “Really!? Anything I want? I want to go now! Now!”  she urged, slipping off the gourd to go down there and do what she wanted before she was caught by the Oni’s hands mid-fall. Picked up under her armpits, the nearly infantile demon was carefully cradled in bright red muscular arms, and carried back into the cave in which the Oni lived.

     “In time, Shuten Douji. In time.”

*****

     “Mother… Father…,”  cried Epone, kneeling beside her parents’ bodies where they had both fallen. She was old enough now to know what blood-stained clothing and a lack of movement meant, but still young enough that the Tags hanging around her neck were cartoonishly large and heavy-looking for such a tiny frame. It was raining. That was something about that day that she’d never forget. It was raining, and the puddle she knelt in was slightly red. It didn’t occur to her at the time that it would stain her clothes… Funny, the things kids think about in dire circumstances. 

     Her hair stuck to her forehead, prematurely white even in childhood. Her clothes were soaked to her skin. Epone leaned over her mother’s body and pressed her ear to her chest one more time, checking for any kind of heartbeat. She sniffed back the snots that had collected in her nose and did the same to her father. 

     In this circumstance, Epone could have been killed back anyone. She couldn’t hear over the pounding rain, and she was vulnerable out in the world by herself; a child Twilight all alone. She didn’t know where the people her parents worked with were now, but they would soon arrive. She stayed by her parents’ bodies until they were. 

     Splashes of boots in puddles resounded in the dank alleyway, and stopped behind her. A large hand pulled her up by her elbow, pulling her away from her parents’ bodies, and she went with them without any struggle.

     Upon looking up through the rain and seeing who it was, Epone clung to her ‘uncle’ ‘s leg, trembling in cold and fear, giving another huge heave of tears. 

     “Epone… You’re going to be okay,”  the elder Twilight said, resting a massive hand on her head, before kneeling down, holding her by her shoulders and looking into her face at eye level. “Listen… We are going to take care of you. The Family is going to want to change your name; just go with it. They do it to all of us. We all go through this; you’ll come out the other side, okay. I promise. I promise.”

[therainroguefanfiction]

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 031 [Finals Begin!]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 2,786

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〈“Some legends are told, some turn to dust or to gold. But you will remember me, remember me for centuries. And just one mistake is all it will take, we’ll go down in history.” Fall Out Boy, “Centuries”〉

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“Do you see him, kid?” I asked, holding his ankles in my hands.

Riku was sitting on my shoulders so he could look over the crowd. He crossed his arms, resting them on the top of my head. “Nope. There’s Mt. Lady, but my brother isn’t anywhere around. Where is that idiot?”

I hummed, approaching the blonde-haired hero. “Let’s gather some clues.”

“Like Scooby-Doo!” I could hear the smile in his voice and chuckled.

She noticed us approaching and lifted her chin, hand on her hip. “Did you finally come to apologize?”

“Not even on your life,” I deadpanned. “Oi, Riku.”

“Right! Have you see a teenage boy that’s really desperate for your attention?”

If I wasn’t holding his ankles to keep him from falling, I would have facepalmed.

She sweatdropped. “There’s a lot of those, you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“Umm, well, he’s eighteen-years-old, never had a girlfriend that isn’t an anime character, got rejected from two different colleges, he’s a huge pervert with a large stack of dirty magazines under his bed and his favorite color on a girl is pink! Does that help?”

My eye twitched. Really starting to remember why I don’t fuck with little kids… I cleared my throat. “Maybe start with his name…”

“Yuki Reigen.”

“Okay. Now, what does he look like?”

He hummed thoughtfully. “He’s kinda short for his age and he dyes his hair blonde, but he’s really bad at it so it’s super streaky. He wears blue contacts but his eyes are actually brown like mine! His skin is kinda oily, especially his nose, even though he uses this weird smelling cream. He thinks it works but it doesn’t at all!”

Mt. Lady tilted her head, her finger on her chin. Her face suddenly lit up with recognition. “Oh yeah! He was so desperate for my number, he said he’d do anything for it, it was honestly pathetic. I was just about to tell him he could have it after being my slave for two years, but then he suddenly panicked and ran off.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I asked.

“Yeah, you’re a creepy old hag!” Riku added. “My brother will never be a slave to someone as ugly as you!”

“What did you just call me, you brat?!”

“Mt. Lady!” Woodsman came speed-walking up, putting his wooden arm between us before she could advance. “You’re supposed to be patrolling!”

Riku started to shake, his fingers curling around my short hair as he sniffled. “S-She’s so s-scary! She threatened to h-hit me!” His crying alerted the other people around us, who stopped to see what was going on. Hearing his words made a few of them glare at her, clutching their children closer.

The color drained from her face and she hastily tried to explain the situation. “W-What? No, I -”

Woodsman put his hands on his hips, glaring at her. “You made this child cry, now say you’re sorry!”

“But I didn’t -”

Riku started to cry louder.

“O-Okay! I’m sorry, just stop crying!”

His cries died down to soft sniffles. I swear if he gets snot in my fucking hair I’mma rage.

Woodsman turned to us with a sigh. “I’m really sorry about her, she has no filter. You really should be getting back, the finals will be starting soon.”

“I can’t.” I motioned toward the kid shoving his face onto my head. “He can’t find his brother and I’m trying to help find him.”

“Oh, I see. Here, let me take over.” He held his hands out and I bent down so he could gently grab Riku under the arms, lifting him up and over my head before bringing him into his arms. “Don’t worry, I promise I’ll find his brother.”

I nodded, ruffling Riku’s hair. “Don’t leave that idiot brother of yours again, okay? And no more jumping from the stands.”

He nodded, wiping at his wet eyes with the back of his hand. “Thank you, big sis.”

Woodsman nodded his head at me before walking away, Riku leaning over his shoulder. His sad expression morphed to a smug grin, all traces of his tears gone.

I exchanged a look with Mt. Lady and I knew we were thinking the same thing – children are fucking demons.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Thank you, Cementoss! Hey, sports fans, are you ready?! After all the action you’ve already witnessed, it’s time for the real battle to begin! Can you feel the excitement?! Our competitors are on their own now! Sometimes heroes have only themselves to rely on! Heart, skill, strength, wisdom, courage – they’ll have to use all of these things to rise to the top!”

A bead of sweat rolled down my cheek as I took a deep breath. Why the fuck do I have to go first? Man, there’s gonna be so many fuckers watching me. Just the thought makes me want to die. Maybe I’ll just forfeit…

Strong hands landed on my shoulders. “You’re pretty tense, kid. Nervous?”

I turned around to face Snipe and Toshi. “I’m always tense, it’s a way of life.”

“Don’t worry, young Jen, you’ll do great.” Toshi gave me a thumbs up and a grin. “You fought against young Reggian a bit in the cavalry battle so you know a bit about his quirk already.”

“Somethin’ to do with air, I think?” I scratched my cheek.

“Just don’t kill ’em and you’ll be just fine,” Snipe put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into a half hug. “We’ll be rootin’ for ya, kid.”

“Thanks, guys.” I grinned.

“Well, well, audience, let’s cut to the good stuff and not delay these finals any longer! Welcome our first fighters – with a potty mouth and an attitude to match, it’s Jen Winchester from the hero course!”

I stepped through the doorway, hands shoved into my pockets. My eyes squinted as the sudden bright light invading my vision. The crowd was screaming, but I did my best not to pay them any mind as I approached the arena.

“Versus! His sanity is seriously up for debate, it’s Regina Reggian from general studies!”

“Hey, I’m lucid sometimes, twatwaffle!”

“What did he just call me?!”

“A twatwaffle.”

“Don’t ever say that again, Eraser…”

I rolled my eyes before glancing across to the other doorway where Regina was exiting from, looking smug. Man, this guy really has a face I just wanna punch. With a fucking metal chair.

“The rules are simple – immobilize your opponent or force them out of the ring! You can also win by getting the other person to cry uncle! Bring on the injuries because we’ve got our very own Recovery Girl waiting on standby! So put your morals aside and don’t be afraid to play dirty, but of course, no life-threatening crap, folks, it’s not allowed! Real heroes use their powers to throw villains in jail, not kill them!”

“I’ll stop anyone that tries to get too rough,” Cementoss said calmly. He was sitting beside the ring, directly centered with it in a chair he had made with his quirk.

I scratched my cheek. Call me old-fashioned but should they really be encouraging teenagers to beat the ever-living shit out of each other? Sounds fucking suspect.

Regina grinned at me. “I’m gonna force you to give up, nerd!”

“Not even in your dreams, kid.” I grinned back. “Be careful, you don’t wanna get burnt.”

“Ready?!”

“You’re a magician’s red burnin’ chicken looking ass.”

“What the fuck does that even mean? Your taste sound like ass. I’m gonna fucking annihilate you like Kunimitsu Tezuka did to the dinosaurs.”

“Nani the fuck?”

“BEGIN!”

We both took our stances. He held his hands out like he were gripping a sword and the air around him started to solidify, forcing the hilt of a sword. The blade started to form… is that a fucking cactus? “Hey! This is my cactus and his name is Pablo!”

I sweatdropped. What is with this guy? “Oi -” I suddenly gagged as something solidified in my mouth. It tasted like if you took Kirishima’s dirty gym socks, wiped your ass with it, and then pureed it with rotten onions. My stomach turned as I spit it out, coughing violently as I tried to ignore the taste on my tongue. Is that… a mother fucking sock?!

“Winchester just spit up a sock! What is this sorcery we’re seeing, folks?!”

“Take this!” Taking advantage of the distracted he had created, he moved in close, swinging the sword above his head. My hand shot up, connecting with the translucent spikes of the cactus. They broke the skin, small drops of blood flowing from the holes.

“Reggian has successfully launched the first attack! How will Winchester respond?!”

“Am I a fucking joke to you?”

“No, you’re a nerd.”

“Hmph, can’t argue with that one, but you’re gonna have to die now, thanks!” I squeezed my hand, increasing the temperature of my skin until the cactus exploded. My hand was throbbing.

“PABLO, NO!!!”

I punched him in the stomach, sending him stumbling backward, clutching his stomach and coughing.

“You’ll pay… for killing Pablo… you thot!” He held his hand up and the air started to solidify. “Improvised special move, Pablo Jr!!” He threw the small, potted cactus at me and I grunted, smacking it away. As soon as my hand touched it, it exploded.

“It’s hard to see but if you look closely you can see a bunch of translucent spikes now stuck in Winchester’s body from that last attack!”

“Son of a bitch,” I grunted. He lifted his hands again and I dashed forward. I won’t even give him the chance to – smack. I fell face-first on the ground, the cold cement seeping through my clothes.

Silence fell over the stadium before a roar of laughter erupted.

“Oh my god!”

“Did you see her face?!”

“I’m so glad I came, this is hilarious!”

“What a classic move!!”

“I’m wheezing, someone help!”

“Ahahahaha! Class 1-A isn’t looking so cool now, is it?!”

“Shut up, Monoma!”

“No one can get past my second improvised special move – Banana Peel Field!!” Regina laughed loudly.

“I can’t believe it! In all my years, this is the first time I’ve ever seen anyone slip on a banana peel during the sports festival! This is great!!”

I slowly lifted my head, my teeth clenched in annoyance. I fucking slipped on a mother fucking banana peel made of goddamn air. This fucking brat is toying with me and it’s pissing me off. I pulled myself to my feet, my blood boiling as flames engulfed my hands. I thrust them out to the side and lines of fire shot out in all directions, swirling around the arena.

I clenched my fists, grinning when he took a step back. “I’m not gonna give you the chance to give up, but don’t worry bro, I will give you the chance to die!” I slammed both fists against the ground, the concrete splitting as fire snaked through it directly toward him.

“Ah, shit -”

The flames shot up from the ground, hitting him in the gut and lifting him off his feet. I teleported behind him, pulling my leg back before slamming my shin against his back and into the cement. He coughed, doing a somersault to avoid my boot. He breathed heavily, lifting his hands again, but I didn’t give him the chance, teleporting behind him again. Pain shot through my skull and I knew I needed to end it soon.

The flames raged on my arm as I cocked my arm, bringing my fist against his face. He flew backward and I stomped my foot, sending a wave of flame to propel him farther. It smacked into him like a spout of water, forcing his body out of bounds and pinning it against the wall. His eyes rolled back in his head as he lost consciousness, the flames dying out. The air spikes in my body disappeared.

“Reggian is out of bounds!” Midnight raised her hand, the metal cuff clanking from the movement. “Winchester advances to the next round!”

“Woah, that chick is kinda scary, don’t you think?”

“She told him to die!”

“That’s not a very heroic thing to say…”

“Reggian did really well!”

“He’s hilarious! Imagine having him as a sidekick.”

“Right? There’d never be a dull moment!”

“His power is pretty unique, too. If you think about it, the uses for his quirk are pretty limitless.”

“Right? Fire’s a pretty basic quirk, no creativity there.”

My eyes narrowed at my hand, watching the blood drip to the cement.

“Go see Recovery Girl.” Midnight ordered.

“Yeah, whateva.”

“And with that explosive display, we have the first victor of the finals! Class 1-A’s Jen Winchester! Ah yeah~ that was a pretty amusing first fight, kids! Both of you fought bravely, let’s show them some love!!”

I won the fucking match, but I feel like a fucking loser. I shoved my hands into my pockets as I approached the dark hallway. I wanna go home.

“Hey, big sis!”

I glanced up at Riku’s voice. He was leaning over the railing again, waving his hand like crazy. A taller boy stood behind him, gripping the back of his shirt to keep him in place. That must be his older brother. Good, I’m glad the Woodsman was able to find him.

“You were so cool out there! Your power is uber strong!” he grinned brightly, closing his eyes. “I wanna be just like you when I grow up!”

My heart skipped a beat as warmth flooded me, my lips twitching up as I released a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding. Thanks, kid… I needed that.

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“Gimme some sugar~” Gran pressed her lips to my cheek and patted my bandaged hand. “There, all better, deary.”

“Thanks, Gran.”

“Why the glum face? You won, after all.”

I sighed, falling back onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I mean, I know I won the fight, but he won over the crowd. They totally hated me.”

She hummed. “There will always be times when people prefer one quirk over another. Don’t let it get you down, deary. You’ll always be number one in my heart.”

I smiled, turning onto my side and propping my cheek up against my palm. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Of course you may.”

“What does it mean… to be a hero?”

She sent me a surprised look before humming, her hand on her chin. “Well, everyone views it quite differently. At its very core, a hero is someone that wants to help others, but everyone has their own reasons, their own desires, to become a hero.”

“But I don’t,” I frowned, picking at the white sheet beneath me. “I don’t have that drive. I’ve thought about it a bunch of times, but I can’t think of a reason to fight. Besides… if people find out who my mother is, won’t that make them hate me, anyway? Bakugo told me not to tell anyone. He was dead serious about it. She was an A-Class villain turned pro hero. No one trusted her…”

Gran set her small hand over mine, her voice warm. “That may be true, but you are not your mother, deary. You’re your own person and if they view you differently, well, that’s their loss. No matter what happens in the future, you will always have a place here at U.A.”

My fingers wrapped around her hand. “Do you think… I’ll find a reason to be a hero?”

“I do, but you must remember that you grew up in a world where heroes are nothing more than fiction. It makes sense that you have no desire to be a hero because you grew up believing that such a dream simply wasn’t possible. I believe that, with time, you’ll find your reason to keep fighting. You just have to have some patience. These things can’t be rushed.”

I chuckled. “Patience has never been my strong suit. When I was a kid, the loading screen for my new game was taking too long so I kicked the TV.”

She laughed, patting my hand. “Yes, well, you are still young, deary.”

I glanced at Regina, who was unconscious on the bed across the room. “He gonna be okay?”

“He’ll be just fine. I’ve healed his wounds, now he just needs to recover his stamina. No need to worry.”

“Che, as if I’d worry about that idiot.” I rolled over onto my back, folding my hands behind my head. “Can I rest here for a bit?”

“Of course, deary.”

“Thanks, Gran.”

She pressed a kiss to my cheek before returning to her work, leaving me to mull over her words.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

▸ Forward

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[g4yr4t]

@jade-curtiss I wrote a thing for youuuuuuuu :)

“But Jaaaaaaaaaaaaade!” whined Saphir, standing on his tiptoes and reaching for the book in the taller boy's hand. “That's my diary! It's private!” With a cold smile on his face, Jade continued to dangle the tattered diary over Saphir's head.

“A diary is a place to keep secrets,” said Jade, voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “And friends don't keep secrets, now do they?”

“No,” said Saphir slowly, knowing that he was trapped. “But… there aren't any secrets, it's not even worth--”

“Then why shouldn't I read it?” asked Jade. His wicked smile widened. “Give me one good reason.” Saphir spluttered, unable to come up with anything. Then, much to his chagrin, his eyes began to water, which always meant that…

“Your nose is running,” said Jade, wrinkling his own nose in distaste. Saphir sniffed loudly and wiped his eyes with a hand.

“No it's not,” he said. He reached again for the diary – a tattered book with a worn leather cover and wrinkled pages – but Jade yanked it higher. Try as he might, Saphir couldn't help from gasping out a pathetic sob. Jade's smile morphed into a disdainful frown. He dropped the book on the ground as though it were covered in Saphir's snot. Like a starving urchin scrambling for discarded scraps of food, Saphir dropped to his knees in the Keterburg snow and grabbed the diary, clutching it to his chest.

“Disgusting,” said Jade. The smile quickly returned to his face, and he shrugged. “No major loss. If you hide it as terribly as you did the last time, I'll just find it again.” Saphir was too busy wiping at his eyes and nose and white-knuckling his diary to watch Jade turn on his heel and leave. That was much too close a call. One thing was certain: Jade Curtiss would never find his diary again.

Jade would have said that he couldn't believe that Dist had actually spent all that time waiting in the freezing cold of Keterburg square, just for him, but that wouldn't have been true. Ever since they were children, Dist had been unwavering in his idiocy when it came to Jade. This was exactly in character for him. And he would have said that he couldn't believe that his own sister would put Dist up in a luxury hotel instead of having him arrested, but hat wouldn't have been true, either; Nephry had always had a soft spot for the sniveling fool. Nevertheless, this whole ridiculous situation worked in his favor. Jade was sure he could find some way of extracting information about Mt. Roneal from Dist, especially if Dist was in a weakened state.

When the party entered the hotel room, Dist was sleeping soundly on top of the bed covers, muttering something about Jade while he dreamed.

“That's so sweet!” said Anise. “Jade, he's dreaming about you!” Jade was about to give a witty retort when he saw something poking out from the edge of Dist's pocket. The corner of a small book, with leather binding and gold clasps, slightly worn and scuffed. Why would Dist carry a book around in his coat? Unless…

“Why don't the six of you step out for a moment,” suggested Jade. “I'd like to ask him a few questions about Mt. Roneal. In private.” The younger party members shared a look, all of them feeling somehow uneasy about Jade's tone. They did as he said, though, filing out through the door without complaint.

Ever so gently, so as not to wake the sleeping man, Jade coaxed the diary out of Dist's inner coat pocket. There was no lock on the book, so Jade simply opened it up and began flipping through the pages. There were a lot of sketches – rough outlines of different robots Dist was designing. Jade even saw one of the robots he and the rest of the “Jade gang” (as Dist called them) had fought recently. Several entries complaining about his unrecognized genius, a few griping about Van. A surprising number detailing what he had eaten on any given day. None mentioned Mt. Roneal. Jade almost threw the book at Dist's head to wake him up, when he noticed an entry with his name in it.

Well. He had to read that.

Dear Diary, the entry read. I had another dream about Jade last night. Oh, how he vexes my mind! That irksome, smiling bastard won't leave my thoughts alone. And he'll barely even look at me in the waking world. He's been nothing but cruel ever since childhood--

That stung a little for reasons Jade couldn't quite understand. After all, it was fairly accurate, although he liked to think of himself as significantly less cruel than he had been as a child. He started skimming the entry, curious about this dream but unwilling to see himself slandered in this way. The complaining went along for a while, and then…

In my dream, Jade approaches me in the empty lab of our Academy days. Without saying a word, he brushes my hair back behind my ear. He's never been so gentle with me, not in real life. He leans in and kisses me. I kiss back with gusto, needy and wanting. I'd like to think that I wouldn't be so desperate were this to actually happen, but I shouldn't kid myself. Then, the gentleness ends. His tongue invades my mouth, he presses his body against mine, pushes me against the wall. He reaches under my shirt and I moan into his mouth. Before I know it, I'm--

“Jade?” mumbled a foggy voice from the bed. Jade looked down at Dist, whose eyes were beginning to flutter open. In that moment, Jade couldn't help but notice how long Dist's pale pink lashes were. He also couldn't help but notice the heat that had risen to his own face. Dist blinked a few times, eyes coming into focus. “You're here?”

Before Jade could say anything in response, Dist's gaze landed on the open diary in Jade's hands. Suddenly, he sat bolt upright in bed, hands shooting out to reach for the book. Through his fading blush, Jade smirked. Just like when they were children.

“Jaaaaaaaaade!” whined Dist. “You can't read that! It's my diary!”

“You're a wanted criminal,” said Jade. “I've seized this as evidence.” He willed the redness in his face to go down, willed Dist not to notice. The latter was entirely possible, since Dist seemed singularly focused on retrieving his diary.

“B-b-but,” he sputtered. “You can't.”

���Are you going to cry about it?” asked Jade. “Dist the Runny?” With that, Dist lunged at Jade, hands grabbing in a desperate attempt to reclaim his diary. Luckily, even at full health, Dist had never been the strongest or most gifted at combat. Jade was easily able to push him back down onto the bed, dropping the diary to hold Dist by both shoulders. For just a moment, there was an almost unbearable tension between the two men, faces red, breathing heavily. If this had been another time or place, that moment might have resolved something like it had in Dist's dream. Instead, Jade pushed himself away and snatched the diary off the floor before Dist could make a move towards it. He smiled.

“I'll be taking this,” he said.

“Jade,” said Dist. “Jade, no.” Jade, unmoved by his pleas, headed for the hotel room door. “Jade, wait! There has to be a reason you came here, I, I'll tell you anything you want to know.” Right. Jade had almost forgotten about that. He turned back around, a glint in his red eyes.

“What do you know about Mt. Roneal?”

“There, there are earthquakes causing frequent avalanches,” said Dist, calming down as he spoke. “And there's a very powerful monster living there. That's all I know.” He offered a trembling smile. “Now please. My diary?”

“Hmmm,” Jade hummed. “No, I don't think I'll be giving it back.”

“But we made a deal!” complained Dist.

“I made no such deal,” said Jade. “You said you would tell me anything I wanted. I offered nothing in return. You told me about Mt. Roneal out of the kindness of your heart.” Once again, he turned and made his way to the door.

“Jade!” yelled Dist again. “JAAAAAAAAAAAADE! MY DIARY!” Jade left the room and shut the door behind him, ignoring Dist's shrieks. Outside, the children stared in absolute horror at the man before them, seemingly calm and collected as Dist continued to yell through the door.

“Is,” started Tear. “Is he okay?”

“Did he say something about a diary?” asked Luke, looking at the book in Jade's gloved hand. Quickly, Jade pocketed it.

“Nothing to preoccupy yourself with,” said Jade simply. “I got what I came for. Anything aside from that is none of your concern.” Behind the door, Dist's cries had turned into a pathetic moaning sound. The other six members of the party looked at each other uncomfortably, but said nothing.

“Alright then,” said Jade. “Let's get going. I'll tell you about Mt. Roneal along the way.”

“O-okay,” said Luke. Smiling, Jade tucked the diary into one of his inner pockets. It might make for some good reading later.

a/n: thank you for getting me to write something! I tried to go with the prompt you gave me. it’s no my best work, but it’s definitely not my worst. I hope you like it!

[ladylynse]

Yes yes! I was waiting just for this and thank you for the reminder! I always appreciate your writing, even if I can't bring myself to read some of your fics because of too much angst being involved. So, considering you offered to do requests, I shall give you a few nudges to chose from. (to be sent on the next ask, because I ran out of space...)

This ask is part one of three and now I’m taking advantage of that. Since it’s been over a month since I’ve written one of your requests, here’s a possible aftermath scene relating to my DPxRC:9GN crossover Reflections, as you requested here. (At some point I want to write one or two more, but until then, this will have to do. It’s not terribly long, but I’ll still put most of it under a read more.)

Spectra and theXtractor:

“This is far enough,” Spectra said as she slowed to a stop.They were barely ten miles from Mt. Chuck, but it would be out of the dangerzone unless the phantom freak and his new friend seriously messed up. Not thatshe thought they’d lose, exactly. The Sorcerer was a formidable opponent, butshe’d seen the halfa fight and win against formidable opponents before, and theSorcerer had obviously been worried about the Ninja.

Her interference might yet cost her her freedom, but shedoubted it. That particular pair of snot-nosed teenaged brats seemed to have aknack for overcoming obstacles when others faltered. She doubted she would havefared as well as she had if she hadn’t struck a deal with the Sorcerer. Evenafter her good deed designed to assuage any sense of guilt she might have felt,she hadn’t been sure she would be entirely safe, which is why she and Bertrandhad left as soon as possible once things had gone south. Norrisville had areputation. Not counting Bertrand or Phantom, she was the first ghost to crossthe city limits since that debacle involving Plasmius.

Still, she wasn’t concerned with the town’s past, and shewasn’t really worried about its future. She was more concerned about her future. She checked the settings onthe Fenton Xtractor, twisted the dial from extractto set sample, and looked atBertrand. “You do still have it, don’t you?”

The giant wasp shuddered, shifted, and resolved intoBertrand’s human mask. “Unfortunately,” he said, lip curling as he reached intohis pocket. He pulled out a snot-covered handkerchief, holding it verycarefully by the monogrammed edge—JF—whichlooked to be the only clean part of the entire square.

It was disgusting, but it was exactly what she needed.

She turned on the Xtractor, angled the nozzle upwards, andnodded. Bertrand tossed the dirty handkerchief toward the opening, and a fewseconds later, the new sample acquiredlight blinked on. She changed the setting back to extract and handed the machine to Bertrand.

“What if this doesn’t work?” he asked. “Did you just helpout the halfa for nothing?”

“It’ll work,” Spectra growled, and then she let her bodyshift. It took on the form that was supposed to have been her beautiful newbody. Instead, she shuddered as snot oozed over everything, including theinside of her own nose and mouth. It was revolting.If this didn’t work, the Sorcerer wasn’t the one Phantom had to be worriedabout. “Do it.”

She needed to extract Jack Fenton’s DNA from her person. Shehad since acquired a DNA sample from Plasmius—for all that he seemed set on gettinghold of Phantom’s mid-morph DNA, he was ridiculously careless about his ownstable DNA—and that would be enough to stabilize her new body once she ridherself of the snot plague.

“Now!” she barked. Bertrand turned on the Xtractor, andSpectra felt the molecules within this body shift and change as atoms brokeaway. Everything burned. Her vision blurred, blackened, and turned white. Allshe could hear was the steady hum of the Xtractor. There was only pain.

She didn’t intentionally lapse into her shadow form, butwhen she opened her eyes again, she had. “Did it work?” she croaked. Everythingfelt raw.

“You’re Fenton DNA-free,” Bertrand said. “Kept it up for abit longer, just to be sure.”

“Perfect,” she rasped, but she was weaker than she’danticipated. She wouldn’t be able to stabilize her other body with Plasmius’sDNA yet; she needed to feed first. She made a vague gesture, and Bertrand knewher well enough to shift into his panther form. She crawled on and clung to hisfur. “Get to the next town.”

Bertrand took off, and they left the Fenton Xtractor behind.Its usefulness to her had passed. The next time Phantom saw her, she’d have theuse of her beautiful new body again, and she could pretend this entireunsightly situation had never happened.

(see more fics)

[majorindc]

A guy blew his nose. The blasting noise that ensued caught the attention and disdain everyone around. But, no one said what they were thinking. However, it was the next move that made folks head tick backward a notch or two, and slightly crease the wrinkles on our forehead. He opened up the napkin. It was just a second. But, for that moment, there was a collective silent "euwww" expressed in the sudden "look away look away" motions that followed. As he closed the scene of the crime, I realized, he was human, just like the rest of us. Admit it... A time or two, you have had that moment of wonder, that thought of, "did anything come out?" But, sometimes, you've gone further. You not only see if there is anything there. You check for your level of sickness. The color. The consistency. And yes, the size. The true experts in the field also judge on size, width (or spread), to truly figure the fun of the moment of disgust. In the end, regardless of the gag reflex of the collective, we all went about our business, put our heads down, and continued forward to the next task on the day's list. Because, deep down, we all knew that this was normal. Disgusting. But normal. It is these kind of quirks that endear us to out childhood fascinations with the gross. Mucus, slime, sludge, mud and anything that Detergent is supposed to discard into the oblivion that is the washer and dryer. In that blow of snot, we defined part of what it is that makes the human race more human. Animals just blow. Discard. Move on. Humans have evolved to explore, wonder and think. In essence, we have been programmed to look into the napkin and see just how much a blob of whitish green expulsion can tell us just how like everyone else we are. (at Mt Vernon Bike Trail) https://www.instagram.com/p/BxKTeNoFS7z1PV6l5S0BWP2NrW21B3WsS28SZ00/?igshid=8spzy8dab23n

[alice-bag]

Meet the Comandante

4/6/86, Sunday

Today started off a lazy day, playing cards at a neighbor’s house. When I got home, I found that Francie had company. She had a friend over, Comandante Gladys Baez of the Sandinista armed forces, a short woman with indigenous features who wore her hair in braids. She looked more like someone getting ready to bake a batch of cookies than lead an army. She was really warm and friendly and kissed me on the cheek when she met me.

Comandante Baez insisted that I call her Gladys and seemed surprised when Francie said I was American. Gladys complimented me on my Spanish and Francie agreed, saying I acted, looked and spoke like a Nica, which I know she meant as a big compliment. I took it as one. We sat down in the living room to talk. Gladys asked me about life in the United States and what people in the U.S. thought of the war between the Contras and Sandinistas. I confirmed the things she already knew: that Reagan was on a campaign to change public opinion of the counterrevolutionary Contras by talking them up as patriots who are protecting us from the spread of communism and by refusing to use the word Contra and employing instead the sympathetic sounding name “Freedom Fighters” when referring to them. I told her that it was working. Furthermore, they were now being described as advisors rather than combatants, something that the Nicaraguans knew was a blatant lie.

Gladys moved on from the topic of Reagan and asked me about women in my country. That was hard for me to talk about. It seems that the death of the Equal Rights Amendment has stalled any progress for the women’s movement. I don’t understand what happened with the ERA and I can’t explain it to her, I guess I’m just too far removed from the mainstream. I told her I was involved in music and that my musician friends were generally open-minded about politics and women’s rights. I said that the kind of music I play has been liberating for women because it’s more about having something to say than being a great musician, so women, even those who were novice musicians, were not intimidated or shut out due to lack of experience. She was happy to hear that more women were playing music and writing songs and encouraged me to write a song about Nicaragua and share the experiences I was having here with my friends back home.  despite the fact that it seemed like such a simple and obvious truth.She didn’t seem much older than me but she took on a motherly tone as she reminded me “sin la mujer, no hay revolucion” (without equality for women, there is no revolution). I’d never heard anyone say this before, despite the fact that it seemed like such a simple and obvious truth.

Later, when Gladys had left, I had to ask Francie again if I had heard correctly. Was Gladys really a comandante? I guess if I tried hard, I could imagine her as a guerrilla but a comandante? She didn’t look or act like a warrior, much less a commander. I couldn’t imagine her bossing the men around. She looked like so many women in East L.A., ordinary working class moms and tias. My Nicaraguan mother assured me that Gladys was one of the first and most respected Sandinista comandantes. She laughed at me and asked why I doubted her. I said that I didn't think Gladys looked strong enough to be taken seriously as a comandante.

“Why don’t you think she’s strong?” Francie asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I lied.

I was too ashamed to say it was because I expected muscles and a snazzy uniform; inwardly, I had to admit that I expected a man. I had never seen a woman who looked like Gladys have any power. In my world, women who looked like Gladys took care of kids, did housework, warmed up tortillas. I glimpsed myself, just for a second, in all my sexist, racist and colorist ugliness and I quickly stepped away from the mirror.

Francie cocked her head, looked up at me and said, “Es MUY fuerte. She fought alongside (FSLN founder) Carlos Fonseca,” she assured me. Francie went on to tell me a little about what she and Gladys had done together. They were pioneers in AMNLAE (Asociacion de Mujeres Nicaraguenses, Luisa Amanda Espinoza) an organization which is named after the first female casualty in the war against Somoza. Espinoza escaped a life of poverty and abuse to become a revolutionary. Originally, the organization was to address the needs and concerns of women who were fighting to overthrow Somoza; now, it is dedicated to increasing the political participation of women in post-revolutionary Nicaragua. Francie and Gladys were not only active members, they were founding members.

“Gladys herself was tortured by Somoza’s guardia,” Francie continued. “She was captured by Somoza and held prisoner for over two months in solitary confinement. She never broke down.”

Comandante Gladys Baez

I imagine this braided woman in an interrogation room, bright lights shining in her face, electrodes shocking her as she refuses to talk. Sweat runs down her lovely, weather-worn face, where a look of strength and resolve is carved deeper than Mt. Rushmore. Unexpectedly, a man and some snot-nosed kids look into the interrogation room.

“Gladys, we need some warm tortillas,” they call to her.

“Heat your own damn tortillas!” she replies. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

[yellowfeather84]

Daily Lines: Go Tell The Bees That I Am Gone

#DailyLines #GoTELLTheBEESThatIamGONE #HappyNewYear ! #huntingbynight That thought was too much. William stood up and dropped his blanket, dozens of small white moths rising startled from the grass and flitting inquisitively round his face. He ignored these, pulled on his boots and strode off. He didn’t care where he was going. His limbs felt as though he’d been headed up in a barrel all night, cramped and tingling with a fierce need to move. The smoking fires glowed and flickered under the big oak, and the savory smell of the meat made his stomach growl. One of the Indians was asleep beside the fire, rolled in a blanket; he couldn’t tell which. Turning his back on the fire, he headed toward the fields that lay behind the house. Mount Josiah had boasted only a score of acres in tobacco when he had known it years before; was the land even cultivated now? Rather to his surprise, it was. The stalks had been harvested, but the ground was littered with shed leaves and fragments; the sap-thick smell of uncured tobacco lay like incense on the night. The scent soothed him, and he made his way slowly across the field, toward the black shape of the tobacco barn. Was it still in use? It was. Called a barn for courtesy’s sake, it was little more than a large shed, but the back of it was a large, airy space where the stalks were hung for stripping—there were only a few there now, dangling from the rafters, barely visible against the faint starlight that leaked through the wide-set boards. His entrance caused the dried, stacked leaves on the broad curing platform at one side to stir and rustle, as though the shed took notice of him. It was an odd fancy, but not disturbing—he nodded to the dark, half-conscious of welcome. He bumped into something that shied away with a hollow sound—an empty barrel. Feeling about, he counted more than a score, some filled, some waiting. Some old, a few new ones, judging by the smell of new wood that added its tang to the shed’s perfume. Someone was working the plantation—and it wasn’t Manoke. The Indian enjoyed smoking tobacco now and then, but William had never seen him take any part in the raising or harvesting of the crop. Neither did he reek of it. It wasn’t possible to touch green tobacco without a black, sticky sort of tar adhering to your hands, and the smell in a ripe tobacco field was enough to make a grown man’s head swim. When he had lived here with Lord John—the name caused a faint twinge, but he ignored it—his father had hired laborers from the adjoining property upriver, a large place called Bobwhite, who could easily tend Mt. Josiah’s modest crop in addition to Bobwhite’s huge output. Perhaps the same arrangement was still in place? The thought that the plantation was still working, even in this ghostly fashion, heartened him a little; he’d thought the place quite abandoned when he saw the ruined house. Curious, he felt his way out of the tobacco barn and turned west, trampling through the shattered remnants of tobacco stalk, toward the higher fields that were used for less valuable crops. Yes, these too had been planted and harvested; by the pale light of a rising half-moon, he saw corn, stooked and standing in rows like small, ragged men. He circled the corn and came down along the river fields—they’d tried to grow rice one year, but it hadn’t answered, he didn’t remember why…a long stretch of fallow ground, thick with weeds and drying grass, and then he turned away from the river and found himself walking over crackling dry stems with a strong, familiar smell….what…oh, flax. Of course. He smiled at the memory of being allowed to help thresh the flax; they’d put the bundles of dried stems in rough cloth bags and laid them on the tiny brick landing, and then he and Papa and Manoke and Jim and Peter---yes, Jim and Peter, that was right, the two black servants--had jumped up and down on them, trod to and fro, and ended by dancing a riotous quadrille atop the filthy, foot-marked bags. Quite a lot of beer had been drunk; he could taste the mingled fumes of yeast and alcohol on the back of his tongue, and a hint of flax-seed oil that always made him think of paintings. A dark figure loomed suddenly out of the dark before him, and he yelped and threw himself to one side, scrabbling hastily up onto all fours, groping wildly for a stick, a rock, a— “_Tabernac_, is that you, _Gillaume_? I mean…” “It’s me,” William said shortly, dropping the handful of gravel and leaves he’d grabbed. He panted for a moment, hands on his knees, before adding, “I thought you were a bear.” It was said in all seriousness, but Cinnamon made a small snort of amusement. “If there was a bear within ten miles, it would already have joined us for supper,” he said. “I thought I heard something more sly, though, like a cat, so I came to see.” He cleared his throat then, and seemed to recede a little into the night. “I’m sorry,” he said more formally. “I didn’t mean to…” a vague hand waved, “…to disturb you.” “You’re not,” William said, still short, but not unfriendly. None of this was Cinnamon’s fault—and he’d liked the man very much, when they’d spent that winter hunting and trapping. Padding slow-footed miles over the snow on the unwieldy basket-woven shoes that kept them from sinking through its crust. He shivered a little at the memory, though the night wasn’t very cold. Snot streaming and freezing to the hair on his face, the air like knives and needles in his lungs. And the fire at night, the sounds of burning wood, dripping water, dripping blood from the kill, his own blood surging hot and stinging back into fingers and toes, the long white trance of a day in the forest broken by the shock of hot food. And then their talk. “You’re not,” he repeated, more firmly. “A cat, you say? Big?” His eyes were well enough suited to the dark by now that he made out Cinnamon’s nod easily. William looked back over his shoulder, casting his mind hastily over his path; had he half-heard anything, smelled anything…? Nothing moved but the willows and alders by the river, leaves rustling in a light breeze. He felt rather than saw Cinnamon move to the side, lifting his chin to sniff the air. They both froze in the same moment. From the direction of the house. An acrid pong so faint you might not notice, unless a friendly breeze shoved it right up your nose. William nodded to Cinnamon. Cat. He glanced then at the tree, where Manoke was still lying in the fire’s glow, wrapped in a trade blanket with wide red and yellow stripes. Cinnamon’s hand closed on his forearm and he felt the Indian’s shake of the head. He nodded again and patted Cinnamon’s hip—was he armed? A breath of self-disgust—no. Neither was William, and he shared his friend’s sentiment; what could he have been thinking of, walking in open ground after dark without so much as a case-knife! He jerked his head toward the house, and Cinnamon nodded.