#and i’m trying to balance between letting myself work through the stress with not indulging in the untrue negative ones

[teiasviago]

trying not to anxietypost rn

[chewinglass]

hello void, nice to meet you. Your eyeless gaze comforts me. No eyes to judge or ears to hear my screams. Just empty infinite space to let it all out.

I will fill you void, I’m not sure with what yet.

I will empty my guts into you. Unfiltered, besides though the unavoidable selection biases that make up my brain.

I will use you as a tool, to see my life through an alternate lens. Through the eyes I project onto you. Through the pinhole perspective of my life you get to see. Though the way my mind refactors information to sound more aesthetically pleasing to fit this platform.

This platform reminds me of being 14 and [really fucking sad]. It reminds me of all of the eras of my life I’d rather sweep under the rug and forget. I’m in such a different place now, but she’s still inside of me. Coming out when she needs to feel everything I try so hard to suppress. There’s a catharsis in indulging her in her misery. she developed Stockholm syndrome towards it. And now I’m stuck with the remnants.

It’s no longer as extreme. It’s hard to be truly sad when I can look back on my life with pride and immense gratitude. Back then all temporal directions looked bleak.

I experience more emotions than her too, like right now I am feeling the weight of impending sadness, pressure in my eyes that are too exhausted and apathetic to cry, stress in my shoulders and tension in my ears. Emotions like these don’t have names so the best I can do is document my physical condition but they poorly capture the beast.

I also have a deep sense of calm in my torso and legs, I feel rooted, things are ok. The sadness isn’t strong enough to cause full discomfort in my body.

I have an infinite amount of things I need to be doing. Things I want to do. And I’ve done so much already. I wonder how the story of Sisyphus would shift if the number of times he needed to roll the boulder up the hill was limited. Rats in buckets of water slightly too tall to escape from live longer when they think their chance of escape is nonzero. They just keep swimming until they die from exhaustion.

I bought a shark ring on Etsy. It’s cute. I got it because sharks can’t stop swimming or they die. Swimming is breathing for them. So they swim forever. And that’s how I want to be. Just keep swimming. All of my concerns for the future are solved by continuing to move forward. Time cures all wounds. All pain and stress and worry drift away if you just keep moving forward. Even if the water is dark, and you don’t know what’s ahead. A shark would never stop.

I am pushing myself past exhaustion, it’s thrilling in the abstract. I get to accomplish so much. In the particular it is horrible. Something needs to go, you can never have it all at once. Every option is also a negation of the others, I have so many flowers to water and limited water.

I think I need to stop seeing the boy I’ve been seeing. It feels like I need to decide between his company or my company—my baby, my dent in the universe. Everything I’ve been working towards. I won’t forgive myself or him if I think he detracts from it at all, and it’s starting to seem like he will. Simply due to my own incompetence. My own stress about this. I wish I could balance it but I’m not a balanced person. I’m all or nothing. The guilt has contributed to the feeling of exhaustion currently burdening me.

I don’t know what I’m going to do. I guess making these types of decisions is important for me to learn. Build the tolerance to make decisions that seem painful in the moment but are better for the long term. I’m not convinced this is the right decision though. I am worried i will regret it. Decisions are never binary. Maybe we will reconnect in the future? Maybe only if I’m able to handle this properly in the moment? Maybe I don’t need to do anything? We should probably just have a conversation. I’m going to take a shower. Ttyl.

[purplecandygerl]

Fear

— Levi x Reader

— angst, fluff, mention of death, cursing

— summary: Levi never let his fear get in a way of his decision yet for this moment he did

— word count: 2.8k

It’s that time of the month once again, when Squad Leaders were given a tremendous quantity of paperwork to be finish in an unfair amount of time, Levi is unexcluded to this time but even worse for his part. A list of cadets where handed to him early on.

The list consist of mostly from the 104th cadets and his eyes soften at the familiar name included on the list. (Y/n) (L/n). All your efforts and hardship within the past month has finally paid off, he knew about your unspoken goal of wanting to be part of his squad long time ago. He couldn’t be much prouder of you ever since, considering you to his squad would definitely increase his time with you, he can already see himself having you by his side.

Content with list of candidate given to him, he decided to set it aside as he move on to another paperworks, his calloused hand reaches to the papers near him. The thick cursive heading made his breath hitched

Certification of Death

It felt like a hard slap to him as memories of the recent expedition flash before him as he passed through the forest seeing nothing, but the bloody corpses of his members brutally killed by the Female titan as tried to protect Eren till the end.

Worries began to fill him, he couldn’t bear to see you in those situation, this is the only thing that matters to his life and one wrong situation can slip you out of his grasp in a matter of seconds, yet he couldn’t afford any distraction in the moment of the expedition as the lives of the soldiers lies on his own hands, reaching for the list of candidates once again before crossing your name before stacking another paper above the list.

“Levi?” the sound of his name being called out as the door of his office shut close, revealing his (h/c) haired lover “not done yet?” he shook his head, “I see” he notice the lethargic tone you release as you sat on his lap, wrapping your arms around him as you buried your face at the crook of his neck indulging on his scent. He lean onto his chair caressing the tresses of your (h/c) hair. “Did something happened?” he questioned, which you shake your head

“It’s nothing, I just want to ease your stress somehow” those words never failed to cause his heart to leap in adoration, he always thought there will be times that you would finally leave him seeing that he always lack of showing his affection to you, yet one year after \here you are showering him with affection at first, he would stiffen at the unpredicted kisses you place on his cheek during your private time until it become something that enlightens his sour mood daily.

Placing a kiss in your forehead, he wishes for you to forgive him for what he was planning to do. He could take all your anger at him if it meant to keep you alive by his side.

༺═──────────────═༻

The final members of Levi’s Squad was finally announced, the rush excitement you felt were shattered to piece as the roll out of names ended without getting your name called, the combination of anger, frustration and disappointment were enough to put you on the edge, clenching onto your fist as you tried to fight off the tears threatening to fall down your cheeks.

“Are you alright (Y/n)?” you heard your friend worriedly asked as you both head back inside the castle, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine” you immediately answered. “You should head first, I’ll catch up”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you” bidding a goodbye before heading to a certain office for explanation.

“Captain” you called out from the outside of his office, giving his permission for you to enter.

“Why?” The first word that left your lips were the conclusion of messed up emotion you were trying to endure. You knew that he knows what you were talking about, you know that he would be the person who gets to decide on the final list of the members.

“There are more suitable soldiers fitted in my squad”

“So, I’m not suitable for your squad. Is that it?” you hissed, how could he say that when he knew how much you work hard to be part of his squad

“Yes” you stared at him in disbelief as your whole body began to tremble holding yourself opening your lips only painful laughter were able to leave your dry throat, which surprised the man in front you.

“Fuck you, if that was the case you shouldn’t have gotten my hopes since the beginning, you shouldn’t have fucking care if I work myself up if that was the FUCKING CASE, WERE YOU LAUGHING JUST LIKE THEM WHEN SAW WATCH ME FUCKING STRUGGLES FOR NOTHING” you snapped out

“FUCK OFF, (Y/N) ISN’T THE ONLY REASON YOU WANTED TO JOIN WAS TOO HAVE ENOUGH TIME TO FUCKIN LAZED YOURSELF AROUND ME” He spat off, his mind was screaming at him to tell the truth already yet anything that left on his mouth is nothing truthful. He was spouting to stand for his decision. For a second, he tried to reason himself it was for you own good, it really is. Until his gaze returned back to you. He watched how tears drenched down your cheeks for the first time in his life he saw you cried. He could only stand on his feet frozen as you tried to brush off the tears blurring your vision.

“it was never about that case, I--” biting your inner lips, there’s no use for you tell him everything what’s the point of everything at this point, giving up. You only turned your back at him before shutting the door close.

As the sound of the door clicking shut was the only time he realized he fucked everything up, he wanted to follow you back yet he remained frozen on his feet, the silence on his office only left your voice echoing in his mind, every word you left a stabbing guilt and regrets on him. Was everything really necessary? For the sake of keeping you alive he had to hurt you in the process.

“were you laughing just like them” clenching his fist, how his way of showing his affection were seen in a different, only then he realized someone was thinking so lowly of your effort yet it only returned back to him knowing you think he was just like them.

A knock on his door, snaps him back to his thoughts. “What?” he didn’t bothered hiding his irritation to the soldier disturbing him “S-sir, Commander Erwin called you to his office sir”

“What do you mean my squad would be on standby? I thought we would be leading for the clearing up tomorrow?” Erwin sighed, it turns out only two squads would be leaving tomorrow to examine the behaviour of the titans before clearing up the titan near the wall.

“I see, then who’s squad would you be sending instead?” he asked, taking a sip on his tea, surprisingly glad he had a free time which he would dedicated on asking for your forgiveness.

“(L/n) William’s Squad”

༺═──────────────═༻

It was supposed to be a clear up for the remaining titans roaming across the abandoned city, only expecting atleast twenty or less titans left, yet when you encounter a horde of abnormal titans gathered in the deeper corner of the city, you knew this can be the last of something. Right now, the titan’s attention were averted from you with the quantity they had you wouldn’t be able to take them all with the lack of gas and blade, if you fire the flare gun to sign the soldiers around you, the titan’s attention would directly be place to you which would lead to the first option. Lastly, if you tried to escape you will most likely lead them to the other soldiers.

Not only your choices are limited but everything is too risky for you and the other members.

“Fuck this shit” firing your flare gun instead of pointing the gun at the sky, you fire the flare at the titans instead before releasing your hook leading back to where your squadmates are, in the center of the city you found a familiar figure the vibrant red covering him.

“William!” You shouted turning his gaze his eyes widen as you fired your hook on the concrete walls in attempt to carry him “Wait no! AT YOUR BACK” he tried to warn, before you can process his warning a giant palm slaps your body like a fly.

the impact of being thrown inside of a building breaking the window in the process, a static rings across your ears as every part of your body is throbbing in pain, opening your eyes only to feel a burning pain with a blurry eyesight reminding you much of the arguments yesterday, recalling back the words you let out that time. Maybe, maybe they were right,

“Just this last time, let me see them” you speak to yourself, trying to stand up every movement you make felt like you were being electrified in pain, stabbing your blade on the ground using it as foundation for your footing. Feeling the ground continuous shaking, losing balance, hitting the concrete floor hard, a sharp pain once again pierce through you, causing you to whimper in unbeknownst to you a sharp wood stab through your abdomen, leaving you crumbling in pain on the ground the sight of shards of glass soaked a puddle of blood. was the only thing you have seen before blacking out

I was never suitable to be here in the first place.

༺═──────────────═༻

Levi anxiously waited on his seat, no matter how much he tried to focus on the meeting between regiments he found himself drifting back to your situation, despite already reminding a soldier to immediately call him when your group arrived, yet several hours have passed and the meeting is already reaching its conclusion.

“Captain!! They’re here” A soldier barged inside the office, disregarding Erwin calling him out he wasted no time to leave the meeting,

“They’re at the Medical Bay for now.” the soldier reported,

“How are they?” he noticed the grim look on the soldier confirming his fear all at once

“one of the squad were completely leaving only one soldier in critical condition” dismissing the soldier he immediately head to the medical bay, every step he make felt heavy as if the world had collapse at his grasp. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“Levi” a familiar voice called out, hanji was waiting in front of the medical bay door, “Is she?” the jumbled emotion he’s feeling couldn’t continue the question he needed answers for, luckily Hanji quickly understand his struggles

“It turns out that there were more titan than what was initially reported, their squad had to face a horde of abnormal titans as we split up. We only found her inside of a building after a flare was shot. She was thrown by a titan trying to save her brother, a large wood pierce through her abdomen at the same time she already lose too much blood, the moment we found her” Hanji saw the grim expression from Levi, as he quietly listen the events that had happen, the fear, guilt, and regrets shown directly to his metallic irises. For once, Hanji saw a vulnerable side of Levi, a man so close losing a part of him leaving him once again alone.

A few hour has passed, when the door has finally opened as a doctor step out of the room, looking around the doctor only find him alone waiting.

“Captain Levi, are you perhaps the relative for Miss (L/n) (Y/n)?”

“Yes” leading him inside the medical bay, his eyes quivered at the sight of your figure wrapped in white pristine bandage up until your neck and another to covering your eyes. your pale like skin made it you look like “the progress of the surgery were slightly complicated due to the loss of blood but overall, the surgery was a success” Levi felt a relief wash over him, hearing how his lover is still alive felt like a heavy burden were lifted from his shoulder,

“at least that’s the good news, but the condition of her eyes had receive a different outcome”

“What do you mean?”

“Not only her abdomen where severely injured but also her eyes, shards of glass were able to damage her pupil that may became a permanent blindness, overall she needs to stay bedridden in three weeks before we can discharge her” the doctor explained, Levi remained stiff on his feet, his mind tried to comprehend the information given to him, blind? You wouldn’t be able to see anything from now on? You wouldn’t be able to see him?

Sitting beside your bed, his hand grasp to your bandage covered hand, entwining his fingers to yours, the coldness of your hands gave discomfort to his, it felt like he was holding onto a lifeless body the coldness of your body felt uncanny it might be because he was used to having your warm hands to his cold calloused hand. Pressing a kiss to your knuckle seeing the pattern of your chest rising and falling, was the only thing he need for now. Your alive that’s all that matters to him.

༺═──────────────═༻

Despite how much he doesn’t want to leave by your side yet with the constant nag from Erwin, it’s the third week you’ve remained unconscious, your temperature had increases in the spam of time yet it still frustrated him seeing no sign of waking up. He wanted nothing more but to hear your voice again. Placing a kiss to your forehead as he whispers his goodbye.

That was several hours ago, the sound of someone screaming from the top of their lungs had reached from the hallway he was in, either way he continue onto his path back to medical bay reaching closer the screams become clearer.

“IF IT WASN’T FOR YOU HE WOULD HAVE BEEN ALIVE” the woman angrily yelled out, nurses already had their hands around her preventing the woman from getting closer

“MISS PLEASE STOP SHE’S STILL RECOVERING” one of the nurses begged at the woman “NO LET ME GO” she demanded wanting to remove the grasp around her, she was able to pull you out of your bed earlier leaving you on the floor. Her hand was able to reach to your hair tugging it off roughly pulling you to her.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST LISTEN TO US IN THE FIRST PLACE YOU WOULDN’T BE LEFT LIKE THAT?!”

“what do you think you’re doing?” Levi intervened slapping the woman’s wrist away sending a glare at the older woman while holding you at his arm protectively, the people The bandage on your eyes has already been removed, showing those eyes he long for were finally wide and awake.

“WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! I’M HER MOTHER I KNOW WHAT’S THE BEST FOR HER”

“I don’t care, your daughter is already adult enough to know what’s best for herself. you two” he called out the two-soldier passing by.

“guide the guardian her way out of the castle” obeying the captain’s order, the two already hand their hand to the exit, waiting for the woman to follow looking back at the two of you, clicking her tongue in irritation before following the soldiers.

After your mother left, his attention immediately turned to you carrying you at his arms placing you back to your bed, no words were exchanged during that time. Hugging your knees, leaning your head at the top. He wanted to say something, anything yet he couldn’t bring himself to left words out afraid he might hurt you once again.

“Let’s end this here, Levi”

Levi’s eyes widened.

“What do you mean?” He mumbled, afraid his voice might cracked any moment.

“There’s no point on continuing this”

“How?” your hand clutches on the white blanket covering your lower half, holding back the tears from building on your cloudy eyes.

“CANT YOU SEE?! I LOST MY EYESIGHT I’M ALREADY USELESS AT THIS POINT” snapping at him, the frustration you’ve been feeling since the moment you woke up and being informed by your condition finally took its last trigger and burst.

“I’m sorry” feeling his warm calloused hand at yours “I thought removing you from the list would keep you safer than the circumstance we had. I’m scared (y/n), I cannot bear to see you the same position that my old squad had that time, you’re an amazing soldier. I never mean what I said before”

“It doesn’t matter now, I can’t be a soldier anymore” removing his grasp from you

“Please just leave”

[funkymbtifiction]

friend enneagram help!

Hi! Thanks so much for your response to my 9 vs 2 question! I think your points were spot on. I’m going to be reflecting on type 9 for a while😊 It makes sense for me.

I have a friend that I have been struggling to interact with recently, and I want to use enneagram to help me understand her better. Would you be able to help me with this? I know this is like a type-me question, so I understand if not! If so, I’ve written my sense of her below...

She sounds like an SJ 6w7. I see the push-pull between distance and desiring closeness, the over-repression of needs (not spend any money - 6) followed by over-indulgence and splurging (7 wing). Complaining about people (frustration) without action (attachment). Emotionally distant while being reactive - 6. Frustration at life never being quite what you wanted, or good enough - 7 wing.

I’m reaching out for your opinion because I’m getting a little stressed in our friendship. It has morphed into one that feels unbalanced. When we hang out, I tend to listen and encourage and not share my own life. Especially in the Ti grip, the idea of sharing myself emotionally feels exhausting because those emotions are complex and exposes lots more of me than I’d often care to share when I'm working through things (I feel vulnerable and don’t want her to be unsure of how to handle that). I’ve gotten into a habit of just checking out of my own life and focusing on her life when we hang out. I just try to fulfill the "empathetic friend" role while having no energy for it. If I talk about my life, it often feels awkward because I'm not used to sharing so I just ramble and feel bad for making her listen to things that feel trivial once I say them. I think my 9-ness and Ti grip are contributing to me numbly enjoying our friendship, and it's made me realize that I likely let this dynamic start to occur a while back in our relationship.

You will need to learn to be more "present" and comfortable sharing of yourself. Practice with other friends first, with whom you aren't over-identified with adapting to their needs. Put your Ti to work in thinking how to bring more balance to this relationship -- what do I need to do to open up and share more, and make this more equal? Does my lack of energy for this relationship mean I'm not into it anymore? If so, what do I need to do about that? Should we take a break? Etc.

As a 9, you are going to have to work hard to "take up space" and feel that you have a right to do so. Sharing is not "burdening others with my problems." You have as much right in a friendship to talk about the things you love and are interested in, or what is happening in your life, as other people do.

[cirrus-grey]

Ao3 Year In Review

I don't normally do these, but I'm really proud of everything I've written/posted this year (and utterly flabbergasted at how much of it there is) so I thought it would be fun to share! Format by @athina-blaine

Top Fandom: The Magnus Archives (55 works) (Yes, that's more fics than there are weeks in the year. No, I don't know how it happened either.)

Date of First Fic Posted: Jan 5, 2020 (1,000, 435 words) (Only fic that's not TMA)

Top Multi-Chapter Fic: Yesterday is Here (53,319 words) Written in ten weeks, posted in twelve, this was the first major multi-chapter story I'd ever posted and I cannot believe how much it took off. It was a purely self-indulgent outpouring of fluff, feelings, and love for TMA, and I never could have predicted how popular it would become. Seeing how much joy it has brought people has been one of, if not the, highlights of an otherwise stressful year, and I am so, so happy that I was able to share it with all of you.

Top One-Shot: Feels Like Lightning (6,065 words) Inspired by and written for the Aspec Martin Blackwood Week collection! My favorite thing about this one is how many people in the comments have told me it's gotten them questioning their own sexuality and possibly realizing they're ace.

Fic You’re Most Proud Of: Tied between A Matter of Diplomacy (57,758 words) and Unsent, but since Unsent also fits another category I'm going with AMoD here. Though 'Yesterday is Here' was the first multi-chapter story of this length I'd ever posted, 'A Matter of Diplomacy' was the first I ever wrote. I learned an awful lot about worldbuilding, balancing plot with character development, and constructing a consistent and engaging narrative through the process of writing it. I'm most proud, though, of the fact that I wrote it, at all. The main story took me a year to write, and the follow-ups added another several months onto that, and even though there were several times when I lost motivation and stopped writing entirely, I always managed to pull myself back and get started again. This was a marathon, not a sprint, and I'm very, very proud of finishing it.

Fic You Wish Got More Attention: Honestly? None of them. I have been absolutely blown away by the amount of hits, comments, kudos, and bookmarks my stories have gotten this year, and there aren't any I could point to as "wish they'd done better."

Fic That Challenged You The Most: Unsent (8,683 words) I spent hours staring at the wall thinking "what exactly is Jon's motivation and mindset here? What about Martin's?" and then used those hours to write a two-sentence text before starting all over again. I had the transcripts open in one window on my computer, and my draft open in another, analyzing single lines of dialogue from the show to figure out how they felt about each other, and how much of that they'd be willing to put into words. I pulled the timeline apart piece by piece trying to work out the order of events, and who knew what when. It is the single most in-character, canon-compliant story I've ever written, and it was hard.

Favourite Quote/Passage: (From In this harsh world, 1,132 words)

"How?" he chokes out, speaking the words into the crook of Jon's neck. "How can you expect me to go on without you? To be happy, without you there?"

"There'll be other things, other people, that bring you happiness. There always are."

"I don't want that," Martin says, and Jon takes a deep, shuddering breath. "I don't want to have to move on without you. I can't- I can't just let you go like that."

"Then don't," Jon whispers, and holds him tighter. "Moving on isn't letting go. Carry the memories. Keep me in your heart. Be the Horatio, to my tragic Prince Hamlet." He draws back, placing his hands on Martin's shoulders and looking him in the eye. "And in this harsh world, draw thy breath in pain to tell our story."

"Jon," Martin sobs.

Jon leans in, and kisses him. "There's no one else I'd trust more to do it," he says. "And know, with every day that passes, that I'm so, so proud of you for making it through."

Total Words Posted: 239,477!

[morsking]

And so we have concluded Lostbelt 2! Now that I’ve experienced it for myself, I have a much clearer picture about how I feel about this chapter. As I progressed one thing became very clear to me, and that was that Hazuki Minase likely did NOT have any influence with this chapter, and its weakest points can be attributed to its main writer, Hikaru Sakurai, once we more closely scrutinize her work.

For starters, I would like to apologize to the people who kept trying to tell me Minase had nothing to do with the writing of Losbelt 2. You were correct, I simply acted stubbornly because I was terrified that one of the writers I loathe the most had returned to haunt and corrupt the franchise I hold very dear to me. I insisted on blaming him for any flaws because he was an easy scapegoat and a bogeyman, and while we all agree he is a pervert and a hack who should be fired, it is simply not fair to point fingers at imaginary criminals. A person should always be held accountable only for the misdeeds they have actually committed. Indeed, we may now explore Lostbelt 2 and the integrity of its writing with a more objective perspective, or rather as objective as I can manage to be.

The overall theme of the Lostbelt is “acknowledging one’s emotions as a vehicle for personal growth”. The issue persistent in the setting of Lostbelt Scandinavia was that it was a place where only young humans were allowed to survive. These humans would be oblivious to what real growth and prosperity were really like. They were innocent, and emotionally and intellectually stunted groups of people who only knew to live for the truth of their eventual demise. They lived short, rushed lives where they would stay ignorant of basic human experiences, such as love, grudges, aging, vice, hate, competition, and companionship because they devoted themselves to living how Scathach-Skadi ordered them to. They were unable to think or decide what to do for themselves, and were thus incapable of not just taking the reins to decide their own evolution as we do in Proper Human History, but also of fathoming doing such a thing in the first place.

This is a mirror to Ophelia Phamrsolone. Ophelia was conditioned to only listen to others for purpose and direction. Ophelia doesn’t actually know how to listen to her own feelings or even what those feelings even are because she was never allowed to connect not just with herself but with anyone. Ophelia, like Surtr points out, is still very much a little girl terrified by everything around her because she has no balance, no capacity for finding her center as a healthy and normal human being would. Unbeknownst to herself, all her interactions with others are a plea for help. Her very first interaction with Mash in 2017 was asking her if she’d like to have lunch with her and Pepe because Ophelia is terrified by male strangers and wishes to connect with other women as well. Ophelia’s conversations with Kirschtaria are also her not knowing how to proceed with challenges and therefore appealing to authority both for comfort and advice. Finally, her monologues with the Alien Priestess are Ophelia venting about how she feels, as if she were unaware of what to really think of herself as her helplessness and indecision drown her in a lake of self-loathing. 

These cries for help extend to the way she summons her Servants. Ophelia is noted to be incredibly proficient at evocation. Some might even call her a genius. In fact, she is such a genius she unknowingly managed to contract not just with one, nor two, but three different Servants all at once. The first Servant to answer her summon was Sigurd, the King of Warriors from Nordic mythology. The second Servant was Surtr the King of Giants and Scourge of Ragnarok (titled by yours truly), who hijacked the summoning and took over Sigurd. The third, and most pivotal, was Napoleon Bonaparte, the French Emperor whose Spirit Origin was modified to embody the “ideal Good Fellow who could make dreams come true” rather than the actual historical Napoleon.

What these three Servants have in common is that Ophelia wished for all of them from the darkest depths of her heart. Ophelia desired capable Servants who could give her some form of direction and stability. 

Sigurd, for example, is a hero renown for rescuing Brynhild and giving brand new meaning to her life by showering her with love and devotion. Love and devotion are things that Ophelia not just desires to be shown but actively struggles to adequately express to others because she has never known what it’s like to experience those things. To Ophelia, Sigurd represents “being given that which you have never known and finding fulfillment”. 

Surtr, on the other hand, embodies a darker type of direction: the terror stagnation, conformity, monotony, inaction, and eternal suffering. Surtr exercises control over Ophelia by threatening to destroy the world if he is released, prompting Ophelia to flash to her childhood locked away by her abusive parents every dreaded Sunday. Surtr locks Ophelia into a state of helplessness and indecision where she has to carefully consider how she will proceed with dealing with Surtr. Ophelia has decided to lock herself in with him as a way to prevent him from breaking out of both Sigurd’s body and the physical prison inside the Lostbelt’s sun. This is a situation where Ophelia is in a constant state of stress and fear, since as a Crypter the last thing she could ever want to see is the destruction of yet another world by her hands. More personally, the death of the Lostbelt would also mean death for Ophelia, as she has failed her purpose once again and thus would have no worth as a person. However, what Ophelia cannot understand, because Surtr himself does not, is that Surtr’s destructive impulses are how he wants to show love and devotion towards her. Surtr has reasoned that since their worlds abandoned them after they failed to perform their ordained tasks, the only thing left is to annihilate them completely as retribution for their suffering. Surtr does not wish to hurt Ophelia, but because he is a being defined only by his overwhelming desire to burn everything, he cannot help her heal or grow in any way that matters. All he can offer is annihilation. To Ophelia, Surtr represents “self-destruction through a static state of being”.

Finally, there is Napoleon. Napoleon represents a pronounced antithesis to Ophelia’s entire personality. He is an upbeat, improvising, confident man who chooses to not stress over things because what he is seeing is only what lies ahead, not what lies in front of him.He also breaks her defenses by asking something so ridiculous and unexpected as her hand in marriage when they have only just met. Napoleon refuses to give in to any negative outcome regardless of how much the odds are stacked against him, as he demonstrated in Scathach-Skadi’s throne room where he refused to let Sigurd kill his Master despite being restrained by Skadi’s paralyzing rune. He demonstrates this once again when he blows his final shot at Surtr during the final battle, sacrificing his own life to give Chaldea the opportunity to regroup and bombard Surtr to bring him down. He is called the Man of Infinite Possibilities precisely because he faces the unknown head on and finds the best path to walk for his comrades to advance. He does not let fear take over his heart and judgement, he creates a rainbow as a bridge connecting the present to the bright, shining future. He is precisely the hero Ophelia needs, because he embodies “the bravery to grasp your own future and find your own direction”. 

But analyzing these characters further is a post for another time. What I want to get into are the gripes I have with this Lostbelt. 

Now, I could lead you on through a couple more paragraphs before I wham you with what this all means in a much higher metatextual level, but I don’t have the time nor the creativity to do that so I’m just gonna give it to you straight. This square between Ophelia, Sigurd, Surtr, and Napoleon is the storyline that matters most in Lostbelt 2. Scathach-Skadi matters little despite her own parallels with Ophelia and being the Lostbelt King, and the situation with the Lostbelt’s inhabitants matters even less. Why?

Because Lostbelt 2 is Sakurai coming full circle and writing an otome game like Fate/Prototype was meant to be before Fate/stay night became a thing. 

SHOCKER!! SOUND EFFECTS OF SURPRISE!! DRAMATIC KAZOOS GALORE!!

Now, that’s exaggerating a little. Or maybe not that much, actually.

What Sakurai was doing was applying conventional otome game tropes into the setting not just what she’s familiar writing for, but because Lostbelt 2 is inherently an incredibly self-indulgent project. 

There is a classic trademark otome fantasy at play here: the fantasy of multiple men being devoted to a female main character a player can relate to. There is no denying there is a certain appeal to the idea that there are several handsome men all willing to devore their entire lives to a person. Sigurd, Surtr, and Napoleon all embody certain otome game love interest archetypes. Sigurd is the cold, composed, intellectual man who is actually earnest, just, affectionate, and wise. Surtr is the dark-hearted troubled man with fiery disposition struggling with expressing love. Napoleon is the strong, confident, borderline pixie manic dream boy with almost zero brains but plenty of empathy and... *ahem*, physique to make up for his seeming lack of tact and intelligence (he’s a himbo is what I’m saying but that comes as no surprise). The problems arise with Napoleon himself, however. Napoleon hounds Ophelia with marriage proposals she refuses time and time and again. When he proposes to her in front of Chaldea for the first time, the narrative has Mash take Napoleon’s side and urges you to do the same because Sakurai believed the reader would’ve caught on to what’s actually going on between Ophelia and Napoleon. 

The issue here is that Sakurai’s clues up to that point had been far too hidden for the player to make a proper connection, and it’s not until AFTER the proposal that the player discovers Napoleon is predisposed to fall in love with whoever summons him because that’s what Ophelia wanted out of an ideal Servant. Because of the poor execution in presenting all these factors that completely recontextualize the relationship between Napoleon and Ophelia, when Sakurai has Napoleon say “You did not reject me therefore you DID agree,” we jump to the conclusion that Napoleon is engaging in extremely reprehensible behavior and ideology reminiscent of dangerous and abusive men IRL rather than take it as harmless flirtation from a well-meaning oaf of a man as he tries to break the shell of his beloved. Sakurai invokes a very dangerous trope that does more to excuse misogynistic behavior when done incorrectly rather than successfully appear as a romantic gesture of attempting to liberate a loved one from the clutches of isolation and victimhood.

On a larger scale, the application of these tropes is where Lostbelt 2 starts to suffer, and that’s where Sakurai’s writing further begins to resemble Minase’s. Sakurai spent so much time building these interpersonal dynamics that she spent the least amount of effort actually building upon the situation of the Lostbelt and Scathach-Skadi’s character and motivations for keeping the Scandinavia the way it is. 

Upon scrutiny, it’s not very difficult to pick apart the setting and make a mark out of the glaring logistical inconsistencies of maintaining a population of only 10,000 humans for a span of 3,000 years by having them reproduce at 15 years old at the latest to execute them at 25. Anyone with a passing understanding of biology would know that forcing children to carry babies to term can lead to terrible health and psychological complications that would certainly end up in a lot more miscarriages, stillbirths, and failed attempts at impregnation than actual successful births. The problem here then is rather evident. Sakurai wanted to use the fact that all these children are young, innocent, naive, gullible, and ignorant to draw a connection to Ophelia’s own psychological and emotional circumstance. However, she realized that because she was writing a setting that obligated her to work around a 3000-year gap between Ragnarok and the present day. She needed something that would compromise the need for a realistic system that would ensure the reproductive viability of a human population through such a long period of time and the thematic vehicle of childhood and repression of growth as a way to connect Ophelia to her environment. This compromise ended up working for the absolute worse because she chose the worst possible system she was aware was the worst possible system she could’ve come up with and therefore decided to forsake that part of the plot without going through the implications of it and leaving the specifics to the reader’s imagination so they could sort it out in her stead.

This unwillingness to properly explore the problematic implications of Scathach-Skadi’s system not only deprived the player of a possible engaging storyline where child endangerment, a common theme in the Nasuverse, is explored and criticized through a different angle, but also actively hurts Scathach-Skadi’s connection to the player because we never get the opportunity to debate with her about her ideology and the state of the Lostbelt. We never hold her accountable for enforcing such a brutally predatory and dehumanizing system that targets children, instead Sakurai opts to build her up as a flawed, self-absorbed mother figure desperately trying to combat the extinction of the remnant of her world who also never really learned how to deal with the revelation there is an entire life she did not get to have in this universe that we MUST sympathize because she occasionally sees through the characters and acts kind towards them until the time comes for us to fight her in earnest as a matter of principle completely divorced from the question of how she’s managed her Lostbelt. The fact Scathach-Skadi’s model of sustainability does not work is made obvious by the fact it takes place in a Lostbelt, what we are trying to get at here is that it does not work from a writing standpoint because of all the different holes you can poke on it before you’ve punched through the paper screen entirely and revealed the superfluousness of it all. 

There is nothing inherently bad about self-indulgent storylines. If I’m being honest, if Sakurai wanted to use Ophelia and Musashi as self-inserts to fantasize about romancing the different kinds of characters she finds attractive, more power to her. But the problem surrounding Lostbelt 2, which is the same problem that plagued Septem and Fate/Extella, is a veritable lack of restraint from her part as a professional writer in charge of a multi-billion dollar mobile game. What the writing room over at Type-Moon has to realize is that they are no longer a small doujin writing circle that can get away with whatever they want because they operate under obscurity. They are visible to the entire world and will be held accountable and criticized as professionals by consumers and their peers in the industry. A little bit of self-fulfillment in a published work never hurt anyone, you can cater to yourself most of all with your professional work (I mean, just look at She-Ra), but you must be sure that in your pursuit of indulgence your work does not suffer for it and ends up alienating and disappointing your fanbase and giving them the wrong impression of what you stand for. 

Anyway we’re popping the biggest bottles when GudaMoth becomes canon this December. 

[myherowritings]

slip of the tongue

— overview: during a charity interview with the top three heroes, deku and shouto “accidentally” give away ground zero’s crush on you. you’re asked about bakugou in an interview of your own and, during a fit of excitement, accidentally let your crush on him slip.

— pairing: pro hero!bakugou katsuki x [fem]pro hero!reader

— word count: 2.2k

— genre: pro hero au, celebrity crush au vibes, fluff

— author’s note: [y/h/n = your hero name] this is literally so self-indulgent i’m sorry but this was so much fun to write lolol. i hope you give in and enjoy this fic with me ;)

“Being a Pro Hero can call for a taxing lifestyle. You work day in and day out and, even during your vacations, it’s hard to catch a real break.” The interviewer waited for the three of them to nod before continuing, “Do you have any advice for young, aspiring heroes on how to balance work and personal wellbeing?”

“That’s a tough one,” Midoriya replied, tilting his head to the side as he thought of his answer. “Being a hero requires a lot of time and sacrifice, and sometimes it’s difficult to remember to take care of yourself in such a high stress environment. But if Aizawa-sensei taught us anything during our years at U.A., it’s that…”

Deku continued to talk on and on and Bakugou found himself counting the number of threads present on the arm of the sofa.

For the majority of the interview, Katsuki sat near the edge of the couch ready to bolt out of his seat. His manager claimed the special “Top Three” interview was a good way to raise money for charity, but he was almost certain it was simply a thinly veiled publicity stunt and an extra way for the crew to bring cash to their own pockets.

“To be honest, I’m still trying to figure that out myself,” said Todoroki after a long pause, inciting loud cheers and deep sighs from the audience.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes. That fucker could say he ate nail clippings for breakfast and the response would be the same.

So far, the interview had consisted of Deku blabbing on until the host directed the conversation elsewhere, Shouto piping in with a stupid comment in a low drawl that made the entire audience swoon, and Ground Zero almost bursting with annoyance at the vain questions asked.

(The question the host asked Midoriya was probably the most--if not only--question of substance. The rest were about who was dating who, how long did it take to develop such toned muscles, and other bullshit he didn’t care for.)

He found himself zoning out until Todoroki nudged him on the side.

With a blink, Bakugou turned to the interviewer who cleared his throat with a nervous chuckle.

“As I was saying…” started the host, trying to find his words. “You guys are the Top Three everyone is striving to become, but are there any heroes that inspire you? An individual who stands out as someone you trust to keep Japan safe?”

Midoriya nodded fervently, a sparkle lighting up his eye as he began to speak. “Plenty! It’s not possible to choose just one. There are so many heroes I’ve met along the way that helped make me the person I am today--”

And that’s when Bakugou stopped paying attention.

Not for lack of interest, per se, but simply because he’s heard Deku say this millions of times before. Everyone other time he opens his damn mouth, it’s to shout praises of any quirk someone possesses.

“...but ever since our U.A. years, I’ve always had a good feeling about Y/H/N.”

And that’s when Bakugou started paying attention again.

His neck snapped towards Izuku at the mention of your name and Todoroki stifled an amused snort.

You met them as a student in U.A., exactly two grades below theirs. Like Half-and-Half, you got accepted through recommendations and easily blew everyone in your class away during the Sports Festival.

Bakguou didn’t give a single fuck about you back then. He thought you were a spoiled princess who had her life handed to her on a silver platter, but as long as you didn’t get in his way, you weren’t important enough to worry about. But years have passed and, through a variety of encounters during hero training and internships, he began to realize maybe you weren’t all that bad.

In fact, you were rather...admirable.

He grimaced at the thought.

“I’m quite fond of her as well,” said Shouto, a small smile on his face as he met the audience’s captivated gaze. “She makes the best cold soba. And the control she has over her quirk is impressive.”

Katsuki snorted. “Glad to know your priorities are in check.”

“Making good soba is a noteworthy talent,” defended the interviewer, head halfway up Icy Hot’s ass. “And what about you, Ground Zero. We only have a few minutes left together, but are there any young heroes who caught your eye?”

He shrugged. “There’s--”

“He’s mentioned Y/H/N before, too,” Todoroki answered for him, sharing a look with Midoriya. “In the break room earlier, the news channel was on and Ground Zero had his eyes glued to the screen when she appeared.”

Izuku hummed in agreement. “And he wouldn’t stop talking about how powerful and pretty she looked during her debut as a Pro--”

“For fuck’s sake, I told you not to tell--”

“Sir, language! This is a live recording.”

Bakugou glared at the host for interrupting, then gave an even harsher glare to Deku and Icy Hot for opening their big mouths. Shouto quirked his head to the side, peering at him with an oblivious look that Katsuki wanted to punch off his face. Izuku simply avoided his gaze, taking a sip from his glass of water.

Todoroki blinked. “The more I think about it, the more it seems Ground Zero might actually like Y/H/N.”

Midoriya spluttered out the remnants of the drink in his mouth, coughing uncontrollably as his face reddened. He glanced nervously at Bakugou to check his reaction and gulped. Katsuki’s left eye was twitching and the crackling noise of the nitroglycerin on his hands igniting grew louder.

“Ah, S-Shouto?” Deku said with a forced chuckle, trying to take control the situation. He turned to the audience. “I-I think what he means to say is that Ground Zero likes Y/H/N...as a person. Right?”

Todoroki looked confused. “No? I meant that he likes her and wants to--”

Izuku clamped a hand over Shouto’s mouth and Bakugou jumped up from his seat, sparks flying off of his forearms. So much for being stupid enough to trust these idiots with his personal feelings ever again.

“ARE YOU A FUCKING MORON OR--?!”

“And that’s all we have time for today, folks!” the interviewer interrupted, desperately trying to take the attention away from the chaos unfolding in front of him. Midoriya placed himself between Bakugou and Bakugou’s newfound target, and the audience had their phones at the ready. The host let out a strangled cry. “A big thank you to Deku, Shouto, and Ground Zero for all that they do for Japan. Now, please-- Just leave! And tune in next time on JNN!”

- - - - -

“We’ve had an amazing time tonight with you here,” the host paused, smiling as the audience cheered, “but before our time comes to an end, there is one last thing I think we’re all dying to know.”

“Of course!” you said with a smile, crossing one leg over the other as you leaned towards him intently. “I’m all ears.”

You could’ve sworn his cheeks turned pink with a swoon before continuing. “Ahem. A few days ago, we had the Top Three heroes visit the studio for an exclusive interview.”

At the mention of the Top Three, you almost bounced out of your seat in excitement. You had known them since high school, yet you continued to be starstruck at the intelligence and talent they brought to the field. Just hearing about their accomplishments pushed you to strive to become a better hero.

“I heard! I haven’t watched it yet, but I really need to,” you exclaimed, a bright smile on your face. “I look up to them all so much and they’re such a joy to be around. The interview must’ve been so fun!”

The host muttered, “Fun… That’s a way to put it.”

You let out an awkward chuckle.

As if just now remembering the camera was rolling, he cleared his throat and straightened in his seat. “Yes, they were certainly a joy to be around. There was never a dull moment with them, to say the least.”

“Right…”

“And when they were here, they told us which talented young heroes they admired.” He gave you a pleasant smile. “Your name just so happened to be at the top of their lists.”

Your eyes felt like they were going to bulge out of their sockets. The Top Three admired you? “R-Really?”

“Yes, really. Deku said he had a good feeling you were going to make it big, ever since U.A. Shouto even said he liked the cold soba you made him,” the interviewer said and you flushed.

You were a big fan of Todoroki’s ever since his Sport’s Festival performance during his first year. Of course you had to make him his favorite food any chance you could. And Midoriya-- There were no words to describe how much you looked up to someone so powerful yet so… good. There was simply no one else quite like him.

“But what was even more interesting was what we heard from Ground Zero.”

Now, while you looked up to and loved Deku and Shouto, Ground Zero had a special place in your heart.

You looked up to him as well, there was no denying that, but lately your feelings felt like something more than admiration. The more encounters you had with Bakugou, the less you viewed him as the same arrogant (and annoyingly powerful) kid from U.A. No-- He was different now. Big-headed at times? Yes. But there was a kindness and warmth deep inside him you never quite noticed until recently.

“What did he say?” you asked, hoping your voice wasn’t as jittery as you felt.

“Well, he really admires your talent and strength, as well as the hard work and effort you put into being a Pro Hero.” The host drummed his fingertips along the desk as he sang your praises. Leaning closer to you, he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “And--just between you and me--Shouto and Deku let it slip that he wouldn’t stop talking about you after your debut as a Pro, either. Ground Zero seems to be absolutely entranced by your presence on screen.”

Every logical part of you knew this man was exaggerating for the sake of show business, but you were too ecstatic to really care.

This was Bakugou fucking Katsuki he was talking about. Ground Zero himself!

You could hardly contain your excitement as you practically bounced in your seat. “He admires me?” You shook your head. “That can’t be possible! He’s one of the best heroes the world has! Deku may be ranked number one--and he absolutely deserves it--but Ground Zero has always been a personal favorite of mine.”

Your interviewer raised his eyebrows at your admission. “Is that so?”

“Most definitely!” you said with a zealous nod. “He’s always so determined and passionate in everything he does. Ground Zero’s a natural born hero, but that doesn’t stop him from pushing himself everyday to be the very best he could possibly be. He…inspires me, really.”

“That sounds like a little more than inspiration to me,” replied the host with a thinly veiled smirk.

You felt your cheeks heat up and, if you had Bakugou’s quirk, you knew you’d be popping off some nitroglycerin at the embarrassment. The interviewer couldn’t possibly expose you for having a crush on a certain Pro Hero, right?

“I… Ah-- What do you mean?” you coughed out.

“Oh, nothing,” he said simply, enjoying the doe-eyed expression on your face a little too much. “Well, I hate to end such an amazing interview, but that’s all the time we have for today! Thank you so much, Y/H/N, and tune in next time on JNN!”

- - - - -

“So, I heard you might have a small crush on me.”

“Tch.”

“Or did the interviewer totally blow it out of proportion and now I’m just making a fool of myself?”

“Pfft.”

“Oh, my God, I’d be mortified if--”

“Is now really the time to talk about this?!” Bakugou grunted in a strained voice. His ears were a bright red as you continued to move closer to him.

You blinked up at him innocently. “What do you mean?”

There was a crashing noise behind you as Ground Zero took down a dismembered, yet fully mobile, appendage of the Storm Villain, Karmegan. When another came up behind you, he stretched his hands out to do his famous AP Shot and you almost swooned on the spot when he aimed the perfect circle.

“I mean maybe we can talk about us after we defeat all these loser mutants?”

“Loser?!” the villain roared shooting off another army of appendage-sized mutants in your direction.

Easily dodging his attack, you retaliated with your long range specialty move and looked at Bakugou with a smile.

“So, what I’m hearing is there is an ‘us’?”

“Are you trying to flirt with me while we save Musutafu?” he asked. When you nodded sheepishly, he snorted in begrudging amusement. “That’s some nerve you’ve got there, pipsqueak.”

Bakugou punched Karmegan, who came up from your back, and gave you a slight smirk.

“How about after we survive this attack, I take you out on a date?”

The grin on your face was almost uncontrollable as you took out an enemy behind him. Katsuki ducked right as you kicked, in perfect synchronization.

“Sounds like a plan, Ground Zero.”

“We better end this quickly then, Y/H/N,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Now I’m looking forward to our date.”

[youarejesting]

My fics in 2020

I am proud of this year. I worked hard until the end. 2020 was my year of finishing my stories. I have done so much and next year I want to do more. So keep an eye out Jester will take over.

Fandom(s): BTS, mentions of NCT, BLACKPINK, MONSTA X.

Networks:@btscreatorscorner @castlebangtan

Total Fics: 34

Total chapters: 404

Total Words: 565,587 Total vids and fake subs: 13 

Best and Worst Title?

Best: ‘Music is the spark that sets my soul on fire’ and its sequel ‘Dance is the celebration of the flame’

Worst: The Check Up

Best and Worst first line?

Best: Yoongi never understood why people would say one's blood is important. (Mania)

Worst: It all started in Mykonos. (Steal my sunshine)

Best and Worst ending line?

Best: “I got you this pretty dress” Seokjin grinned showing you the dress before hugging you and giving your forehead a kiss, “Let’s go burn it” (Me & the ghost in number 23)

Worst: But all you got was a sharp-toothed smile. (Pandemonium)

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than, or about what was expected?

I think I wrote what I expected, but I think I could have definitely finished more. Which is a bit upsetting.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year? 

I don’t have limitations to my writing so nothing is deemed unpredictable.

I am however generally surprised by my love of throwing in twists and also gore, I love gore.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

Wild space: it is strange because I am not particularly a fan of space and scifi, but I am really into writing world building things and having the ability to create a whole planet was amazing.

Most popular story? 

Tumblr:

Seoulmates

Femme

Quarantine

AO3: 

Quarantine

BTS365

Love Listening

Story most underappreciated by the universe? 

Tiny Tan: Limited Edition

Story that could have been better? 

All

Sexiest story?

 Love Listening

Saddest story? 

 Me & the ghost in number 23

Fluffiest story? 

Mall Santa

Most fun story? 

BTS Among Us 

Hardest story to write? 

Kisaeng

Daylight (i'm still writing it haha)

Easiest/most fun story to write? 

Light it up

What story took the longest?

365 lol took all year

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them? 

The biggest risk I took all year was posting my work. Living life on the edge.

What are your fic writing goals for next year? 

To double my writing

Fics that you wrote in 2020:

BTS365: 365 mini stories ✓ fluff, comedy, angst, romance, mature, action, adventure, smut. This has it all. Find your birthday and read your story. I wanted to give something unique to people.

Quarantine: 100 Chapters ✓ Something to accompany you while you are alone during quarantine and the pandemic. I was lonely and I figured so was everyone else. So, I decided to have BTS help us all go on an adventure that didn’t focus on the covid virus but on some other aspects around it.

Femme: 50 Chapters ✓ A futuristic world where women are rare. This was an indulgement fic that gave circumstances for the reader to be in a polyamorous relationship with the boys and live a glamorous life. Ending was a bit rushed.

Seoulmates: 29 (ongoing) Each member of BTS has a unique soulmate bond. I love the idea of this, another indulgent fic but you aren’t alone with the boys you have friends and you can play different parts.

Witching: 11 Chapter ✓ When your brother goes missing trying to find them gets you in a turf war between two covens. This fic was actually a way for me to vent for a project I wanted to complete but the project is so big that I wrote this instead.

Herb: 2 Parts ✓ mature, smut. Jimin claims he has everything you need, he doesn’t disappoint. I came across this idea within the 365’s and extended it because I liked the idea so much. Jimin has everything from casseroles to scarfes, cat food to cell phone chargers and the reader just wants to be loved and relieve stress.

Limited Edition: 10 Chapters ✓ BTS boys are sold as limited edition figurines. This was originally me venting about not having any merch and then became a daydream that what if the merch came alive. And the story was born.

BTS Among Us: 7 Chapters ✓ gore, action, adventure, scifi, angst, death of main characters. This one was so funny for me, I had my friend pick a colour and that was the imposter from the start. I was amazed that no one figured it out in the end. I want to play again soon.

Light it up: 13 Chapters ✓ fluff, comedy, angst, romance, mature, action, adventure. This was inspired by the dynamite trailer, I loved it so much that I began writing, I had no clear direction but as I wrote it started to shape and someone said it was like stranger things and I credited Stranger things cause it did indeed have a similar premise and I don’t want to pretend I came up with something that has already been done.

Love listening: 2 Parts ✓ SMUT, comedy, fluff, angst, romance, mature. This was inspired by a strange video that came up on the internet, I was searching for BTS misheard lyrics and the video I clicked had some funny ones but after that the next suggested video was bts moans and auto play was on and well this fic was born.

Me & the ghost in Number 23: 11 ✓ fluff, comedy, scifi, supernatural, romance, angst, mature, smut, death of main character. This was inspired by many of the ghost text au’s I had read but many of them were like the show oh my ghost where the main ghost character isn’t actually dead just in a coma and I thought the opposite way instead of them waking up, I wanted things to shape the other way. This one was so difficult to write and I cried a lot due to the loneliness Jimin was facing and the mourning from Yoongi.

Hope in the sheets: 4 chapters (so far) fluff, comedy, smut, adventure, slice of life, romance, angst, mature, growing up. This one is a fic that targets my childish desires. I have grown up so much and this fic is a visual representation of that. 

Asks: 77 (ongoing) where the bts boys answer the readers questions and concerns.

Reactions: 15 (ongoing) 

Prompts: 18 (ongoing)

One shots:

Kisaeng: This was a reverse fic project, the idea that instead of Mulan pretending to be a man and going off to war, it was BTS dressing as women to stay home from war. I loved writing about fictional history. 

Steal my Sunshine: This was a summer project. I wanted to write something that felt like a very bad spy movie, like Mellissa Mccarthy and Mr Bean-esque. I formed this one and it made me laugh the whole time writing it.

Blue Side: This was talking to myself about being sad and admitting that I could be sad but I should learn to split the happy and sad into two worlds and limit my time in them both, it was about equal balance and finding the good in the sad and the sad in the good. I don’t know how hard to explain.

Temptation: I had fun writing but it is pure SMUT. not even good SMUT.

Pandemonium: This was really fun. The premise is dark and the ending is left ambiguous, in the original, Namjoon kills the reader but I left it open so you can imagine them continuing their relationship or not.

Mall santa: A fluffy christmas piece. A secret santa I wrote that I felt needed to be soft and quirky and have just all the hallmark moments.

Mad: This one is finished, but I have it published privately at the moment waiting to unveil it as it is well SMUTTY. I don’t know what it is about Taehyung but he is always so dark and I guess that's what people find appealing. I had this idea from a 365prompt and well I had to write it.

One wish: This was a birthday fic that I wrote for a friend. I wanted people to read it on their birthdays or imagine their birthdays and themselves in this position if they made the same wish.

The Check Up: I wrote for this for a friend going through a personal procedure, they were nervous so I took their bias and made something I hoped they could think about while in the procedure and I even explained the steps and what might happen over the next few days hoping the whole thing wouldn’t seem as scary because technically her mind had already been through it when reading the story.

Sparks of the heart: Robots developing human feeling. It was a cute universe and Yoongi’s story will be a series within 2021.

Dance machine 3000

Digital Art

Electronic Tonic

Circuit chef

Random Access Memory

Kookies Trojans and Malware

Feel Better: Another fic written for a author who was sick, I wanted them to endulge in some escapism whilst they were sick.

Music is the spark that sets my soul on fire & Dance is the celebration of the flame: These two were requests that I loved dearly.

Horror movies: Cheesy damsel in distress meets boys will be boys.

I will wait (somesay): This song wouldn’t get out of my head so I had to write it.

Wild Space: When I wanted to write a hybrid AU but I already have a hybrid AU being edited. So hybrid werewolves meets space.

The Bomb: This one is compete and ready to post I had to talk myself out of writing this as a series but I love the story line. I love the end.

Lost Boys: This has been stuck in my head since i had a dream about it and I finally wrote it into the new year. I hope you like it.

Mania: Not my favourite work, love ABO universe I just haven’t got an actually story line so it is on hold.

Incaceration: The story that never was, I really need to get around to this one.

Tagging: @moccahobi I know you wanted to tag me... but I am finished so I am tagging you.

[boogiewrites]

No. 9: The Body

Chapter Three

Characters: Diego Hargreeves & OFC Eve Corpuz

Summary: Diego confronts Eve about the strange events that have surrounded him when he’s with her. Will he find the answers he wants? 

Warnings/Tags: Angst. Talk of injury and past trauma. 

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT! If you’d like added to the tags, just let me know. This is a multi-chapter fic.

Finally, she had a day off, where she could indulge in the tiny bit of irresponsibility her life and career balance allowed. She’d prepped an ice bucket to allow for maximum laziness, shoving her wine bottle into it. She looked at the wine glass she’d sat out and wondered how long she was going to lie to herself and pretend she wasn’t going to be drinking straight from the bottle.  She had sweets, snacks, and a jug of water and she was ready to settle in and binge and stay up as late as she possibly could. She’d probably pass out around dawn then figure it out from there. She had no plans, no drinks with coworkers, no fitness classes, just a hot date with her comfy couch, and a heavy pile of blankets. 

She’d fulfilled a small portion of this goal, an hour or two into her ‘Scrubs’ marathon when there was a tapping on her window. 

“Oh, kitty! You’re back!” She says quickly sitting down her wine and rising from her cocoon on the couch. “You’ve been gone a few days I was getting worried about you with the snow. I kept some fish from my leftovers for you.” She coos as she makes her way to the window, unlatching it before turning on her light to show a large black figure. “You’re not a cat.” She states plainly. 

“Sorry to disappoint,” Diego says with a sarcastic expression as she blinks and in her buzzed state processes this information.

“What are you doing here? You’re not due for another few weeks at least, right?” She asks, hand on the window sill still, not being raised fully. 

“No I uh… wanted to have you look at that wound again.”

“Oh is it-?” Her mind switches naturally to doctor mode, even if she wasn’t sober and wasn’t nearly as quick or graceful. “Come on in then, let me pause this.” She pushes the window up as he slinks in behind her and she fumbles with the remote. “What seems to be the problem?” She asks with her eyes on his covered torso and hands on her hips. He seemed to be moving fine. 

“Is this a bad time?” He asks seeing the food and wine bottle on the table.

“No, well… I’ve been drinking but I’m FINE.” She insists with a wave of her hand. “Sober enough to help you out at least. I was just watching tv.” She excuses herself.

“Well, I was making sure no one was here with you.”

“HA!” She laughs a bit louder than intended, then clears her throat. “Um, no, no one else here. There never is.” She chuckles. 

“What about the cat?”

“Oh! Well, I suppose he would count as having a man over.” She offers a warm, sleepy expression that gave away that she was a bit drunk. “Well I mean there’s you. But I don’t know if you count as having someone over since I’ve never invited you.” She makes herself chuckle. 

“You told me to come in just now didn’t you?” He teases. 

“Yeah but...you came through the window I don’t think that counts.”

“Window? Door? Both lead to the same place, what’s the big difference?” He asks sarcastically, he was a bit relieved she seemed in a good mood but was hoping she wasn’t a mean drunk if she got mad at the topic of discussion he had on the table tonight. 

“Societal expectations? Cultural… rules?” She offers and waves her hands. “Don’t make me think of words right now just- what do you need? What's wrong?” She moves towards him focusing herself up.

“The wound was a gunshot wound right? We pulled the slug out?”

“I pulled it out, but yes, go on.” she waits for him to raise his shirt as he talks. 

“I’ve noticed something weird when I come to you for help Doc.” He lifts it to show a recovered body. “These things keep healing... and fast. I need to know how you’re doing that because I’ve been losing sleep over it.” His tone was harsher and she felt the energy in the room shift. 

She leans forward to make sure she’s seeing clearly. They were healed. Pink scars over the newest and the wounds from over a month ago now we’re barely visible.

A bubble of acid rose in her throat as she stood back up, and it wasn’t from the drinking. 

He sees her body language change drastically. It’s like he’d hit her the way she slunk back to rest on the back of the couch. 

She takes a shaky breath to compose herself as a lifetime of fears and questions flood between her now glassy eyes. “I... don't know…” she forces out a whisper. 

“I think I deserve an explanation here.” He says taking a step towards her as she quickly wipes away a falling tear to hide it from him. 

“I don’t have one.” She begins to cry. The past trauma of being confronted and abused for the weird things that happened to her when she was young come at her as his intimidating body language moves closer. 

“I think you do…” still going with intimidation just in case she was faking. Hand ready to grab a knife if she flinched to attack.

“I don’t.” She shakes her head and covers her face in her hands. “I don’t mean to…” she sniffles and moves to teach for a tissue. “It’s just... a thing that happens sometimes and I don’t… I don’t know what... why…” she cries harder this time and his tension shifts. “I’m sorry I’m… I've just been able to get by hoping no one notices it and asks and now…” she motions towards him. “I don’t want it. I don’t want anyone to know, please.” She reaches out and takes his hand. “I don’t want to have to run again. Please.” She holds his forearm as she cries and boldly meets his eyes. 

“What do you mean run?”

“My mom she… I did weird things as a kid and she…made me so scared of it, of myself...of her.” 

“What’d you do?” He quietly asks. Now moving to put his hand over hers and felt her shaking. 

“Afew times when I’ve had traumatic things happen I’ve… had weird stuff happen. Brought animals back.” She uncomfortably rubs her arms. 

He was piecing it all together in his head. Her career choice made sense, an easy cover for her to just be good at her job and not have to address her abilities since she’d had such fear put into her about it. No father, uncontrolled powers during emotional outbursts. It was all adding up.

“Eve?” His voice was softer this time. “When’s your birthday?”

“My...birthday?” A confused brow appears as she looks up at him. 

“Yeah just...humor me.”

“Uh...okay?” She answers shakily. “October 1st-“

“‘89?” 

She nods. “How did you-?”

He sighs and puts a hand to her back and pats it supportively. “Eve. I think it’s about time we talked.”

Eve watched him curiously, his face seemed to pity her and she hadn’t expected it. He thought he’d either tell her she was full of shit and not believe her. That was her first assumption. The second was he’d kill her because he was an assassin to kill people like her. Some Men In Black type shit. And while she didn’t expect that theory to play out, the arrival of the third option of total acceptance was baffling her. 

“Why did y- how did you know?”

“Because it’s my birthday too.”

“Huh? What are you insinuating?” She wears her confusion unfiltered on her face as she looks up at him and rises from the spot on his chest. 

“Remember when I told you my name? What did you say about the kids in the 90s? The crime-fighting super powered ones…?” He winces. 

He sees the realization wash over her face.

“We all had the same birthday...October 1st, 1989. I was that Diego... I Am that kid….was that kid. right? I mean I’m a man now-pfft obviously-“

“You’re the fucking Kraken?” Was her loud response as she pushed away to look at his face. 

“Yeah…” he draws out the word and gives a nervous forced smile. “Or Number two… as Dad called us.”

“You...you’re…” she begins repeatedly as she fidgets her fingers in thought. She huffs out a nervous laugh suddenly. “Well, that would... make sense wouldn’t it?” She looked around the room as if it might hold some answers to her bewildering flow of thought. “I just... hold on.” She says with a head shake, the emotional rollercoaster sending her spinning and no longer the alcohol as she moved to fix that. “If I’m gonna deal with this level of shit I’m going to drink more. Because... fuck doing it sober.” She says as she leans to take a bottle of bourbon out of her cabinet and sit back on the couch before cracking it open and downing a large drink.

“You seriously didn’t know you had powers?”

“No! I just thought...I don’t know. I thought I was a good doctor? I guess?” he sighs and takes another shot. 

“You are but... I mean you… really didn’t notice?”

“It has rarely happened at work… and normally I don’t have much of a reason to try to heal people outside of work hours. Until you showed up.”

“So any other times you’ve used the powers?”

“Not at work. Or when I was a kid. I thought I must’ve grown out of it.”

“So..” he twitches his nose in thought, lips parted slightly. “Would that fall under “...occurrences at peak emotional environmental stress instances”?” He repeats back from lessons. 

“Yeah…” she groans and slumps against the couch looking away and shamelessly pouting because denial had been nice. “Fuck.” she shouts up at the ceiling. “I have fucking… “powers”? What the fuck is that even-? I’m not... this isn’t...Nah, it can’t-”

“Eve.” he sits down next to her and grabs her shoulder. “It’s fine.”

“How are you so calm?” she asks almost angrily. “Did you know other people had powers? Like what… how many of us are there? Was I supposed to be adopted? Do I get adopted now? I’m way too old to-“

“Woah. Breathe.” He demands as she begins talking a bit too fast. “I can only answer one at a time.” He extends a supportive raise of his brow. 

“So is there like... a book you can give me. “So you have super powers? A How-to In-depth Guide” by chance?”

“Nope. Just gotta fuck up a bunch trying to figure it out.”

“Oh, that’s just wonderful. I needed more stress in my life.”

He smiles and huffs out a quiet laugh. “So no one else knows?”

“No just… my mom…” she trails off and runs a hand through her hair, covering her almond-shaped eyes for a moment. “This...would explain so much and yet somehow I have even more questions.” She sits up and takes a good long look at her hands. “What’s your power again?” She whispers and turns to face him. 

“Trajectory manipulation mainly.”

“Oh right...yeah, duh the knives.” she hits her forehead and it makes him grin at her. “Sorry I’m a little... this is a lot.”

“Which is why I think we need to try something.” He announces as he stands.

“What?”

“Prove you have powers.” He says standing between her kitchen and living room. 

“I don’t… uh..”

“Every time you’ve used them you’ve been emotional right? A sudden trigger?”

“Yeah…”

“Then there’s the only way to find out.” He says as he quickly takes a knife and cuts his hand.

A loud protest from Eve as she jumped to her feet to react before she even had time to think about it. She took his hands into hers and pulled them to her chest and applied pressure. “You idiot! What are you thinking? There are plenty of other ways to find out!” She shouts as she feels the rush of emotions that come with this unstructured and sudden need for her skills. She’d been off the book when she’d been with him. She’d never had a man stumble to her apartment asking for help, this was something new and it’d made her feel a bit more alive. Like some energy tingling around her nerves inside. She felt the cool flush over her face as they stood close.

“No other way that would get you to react.”

“We really need to discuss your impulsiveness.”

“Focus. Focus on healing it.”

“How?’ I don’t-“

“Yes you do, c’mon. I believe in you.”

She met him with unsure eyes but did as he said. He would know best in this instance, wouldn’t he? If he believed in her, she supposed it was best to follow his lead and believe in him back. 

She holds it close and he feels his muscles twitch. The pain had ceased when she’d clasped him to her, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. She needed to know she could do it. And tough love was the only way he knew how to make powers work because that’s all he’d ever known. She focused and he soon felt a warm wave of contentment wash over him for a fleeting moment. 

“Was that you?” He asks her, her eyes still shut and brow concentrated.

“I…think so?” She says before looking down at his hands with a sigh before revealing them. “Okay,” she whispers before removing her hand where he cut himself. “Is it?” She begins softly, hands gently wiping the blood away. “Let’s wash it, come on.” She drags him steadily to the kitchen sink and there the answer was underneath. The cut was gone. “Holy shit.” She heavily exhales and lets his hand go. 

“That’s… good work.” He says moving his hand in and out of a fist. “Good as before.” He nods in approval as she leans against the counter in shock. “You okay? How ya feeling?”

“Tired.” She nods slowly and meets his gaze. “Shocked. And… hungry.”

“You wanna do something about any of those?” He offers, smiling at her and nudging his head towards the fridge.

“Yeah.” She nods and turns to splash her face with water. “Some real food. Uh, get the blue container and I’m gonna…” she looks around and makes a straight line for her water bottle. “Sit down.” She says to herself and takes a good long drink. He follows her orders and sits next to her, two forks stabbed into a plastic container of noodles. “Yeah, that…” she nods and smacks her lips. “Made me surprisingly tired.”

“That’s normal. Carb up here.” He moves the food to her lap and she doesn’t hesitate.

 After a big laborious bite, she shifts the container between them and offers him to join in. “So what now?”

“Whatever you want.” He shrugs.

“There’s not like some registry I have to get on is there?” 

He laughs in response and assures her there isn’t.

“Does using yours make you tired?” 

“Sometimes. If I have to do a lot at once. Like, stop an army’s worth of bullets in mid-air.”

“You’ve… done that?” her eyes stare unblinking. 

“Oh yeah.” He nods as if it was nothing. When in fact it was one of the harder things he’d ever done with his powers. 

“I want to be able to do that.” she looks at him pitifully. A touch adoringly. “Or whatever my equivalent is to that.”

“You can, you’ve just gotta practice.” She nods as she tries to envision a new future that involved this new knowledge of herself she’d gain. “Start with controlling the emotions. Then learn how you wield it without them.”

“So you don’t have to be, like, angry to throw knives you can just do it.”

“Right.” He smirks and throws a knife with little effort that curved and lands in her coffee table.

“Did you have to stab my coffee table?”

“It’s a casualty you’ll learn to deal with it”.

“I do at work already.” She frowns and takes the knife. 

“How’d you even become a doctor anyway? Were you so good at keeping people alive they just gave you a degree?”

She sputters out a laugh. ”I fucking wish.” The first big laugh he’d seen from her unfolds as she shakes her head not knowing whether to be insulted or not. “I was, am...naturally gifted for it it seems.”

“Isn’t it hard? How’d a girl like you manage to get into med school? You’ve made yourself sound like some little badass.”

“I was a badass.” She grins. “So much so that they threw my badass in jail.” She laughs. “You couldn’t tell my punk-ass nothing. I was a statistic waiting to happen. A young runaway, abusive home, repeat offender, all that shit.” She motions with her hands as she speaks. “But...there was a very tough but fair veterinarian that took me on to do some work for community service and all that. And I ended up being surprisingly good with the animals. She gave me more responsibility, I took it all on and got better. She gave me a chance to be somebody. To prove I was more than stat for the system, y’know. She told me I could do anything I wanted and she’d pay for my tuition. So I did. She got me into college and...here I am.”

“Why a Doctor?”

“To help people.” She shrugs. “As cliche as it is. Thought I was good at it, was told I was a good role model for kids that were like me”

“Yeah, you are.”

“No, I’m just some juiced up mutant with powers to heal. My career is a fraud.” She says only half-joking. 

“Power doesn’t make you good at math. Just ask my brother.” He kids with a smile. 

“Oh god, how many of you were there?”

“Seven.” He nods an answer. 

“And now there’s an 8th-“

“Ninth.” He corrects. “Yeah, there was another, uh person with powers we...met.”

“Oh. Are they a member of the...Uh…?” 

“Umbrella Acad-“

“Umbrella academy” she finishes. 

“No, they’re not.”

“So you don’t have to be?”

“No, but...she kinda disappeared so she couldn’t join.”

“Oh sorry.”

“Nah, it’s cool. No thang.” He badly jokes and he sees she’s already seen through him. “They wanted to leave. So it’s… fine.” He tries to dismiss the subject.

“So uhh…” she pauses and fights a yawn. “I’m really tired. Like, need to sleep right now tired. So…”

“Oh! Do you want me to? Yeah-You need some rest.” He awkwardly separates himself. 

“Before you go-“ she says, turning to face him by the window. “I don’t… want to do this alone.” She says with twiddling fingers. And I’d like your help.”

He nods, “I can help.” He assured her.

“So is there a way I can get ahold of you? A large spotlight  I can put on the roof perhaps?”

“Can’t make those jokes anymore since you’re one of us now.” He wags a finger her way.

“Actually I think that means I can make them all I want.” She grins. 

“I have a cell phone. Like a.. normal person.” He grumbles and takes it out. “What’s your number?” He puts her into his phone. Hers dings from the coffee table. “Problem solved.” He nods and slips it away. 

“I’ll... see you... soon?” She asks with a tilted head.

“Guess we’ll find out won’t we?” He gives a precocious smile and slips out the window silently.

“This mysterious bit is not as charming as you think it is.” She sass's back to an empty fire escape. But he heard her. And knew she wasn’t being entirely convincing.

@s-h-e-w-r-i-t-e-s​ @jaegeeeeer​ @diegos-butt​ @anglovesthis​ 

[voltage-fanfictions]

One Time Too Many

Anonymous request: Can you do angst with BMP 2 Ivan where MC leaves him for being unaffectionate/insensitive?

“Ivan, it’s late. You should really come and get some sleep.”

“Not now.”

“But Ivan-“

“I said not now.” His voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument. His eyes only leaving the papers in front of him for a second when he didn’t hear the door close. “Go to bed, you have no need to still be awake.”

His harsh stare didn’t leave your form, watching as your face fell, hands clenching into your nightshirt over your chest. For a moment it looked as if you were going to speak again, but your lips fell closed softly, eyes dropping to the floor as a look of defeat came over your face.

“Alright…” Your voice trailed off, hesitating momentarily before turning around and leaving the room, shuttling the door with a gentle click behind you.

With you gone, he shut his eyes. Both the pen in his hand and his head dropped, his interlaced hands becoming the resting place of his forehead. Yes he was tired but he had no time to consider that. Cracking open an eye he glanced to the pile of documents to the side that seemed to be ever growing. Although he had yet to be crowned King of Sanct Sybil, about six months prior his father had begun to struggle with ill health and was slowly starting to deteriorate in terms of his capabilities, meaning more and more of his responsibilities were beginning to fall into his hands.

For months there had been rumours circulating about his father, from the absurdity of him having abdicated or passing away in secret to the more correct guesses of him no longer being able to handle public appearances, and with no-one stepping in to say what was actually happening the unrest was beginning to be felt across the kingdom, and civil unrest was never a good thing when dealing with trade in other countries. However, his father had yet to express the want to back down from his position nor did he want the public to know of his state, very much believing in remaining a strong figurehead until the end, meaning he had to take on all of his responsibilities in secret. Of course, with him having so much more to deal with now, he was appearing in public himself much less with most of his day being spent in his office dealing with various stacks of paperwork and that in itself was causing even more rumours. With neither royal having been seen for a while he had heard the whispers of resistance groups wanting to overthrow them and take the nation in the name of one of the previously merged countries. Such extremist groups had always existed, but naturally around times of leadership changes or distress their causes became more supported, their venom reached further than normal.

You had offered to help, to take his place during royal summons to try and reduce some of the stress on him no doubt, but he and advisors had quickly rejected the notion. Technically you weren’t yet a part of the royal family, being neither his fiancée or wife, meaning politically you didn’t hold the position to be representing them alone, only being allowed to do so when with Ivan, but he also didn’t want you going out alone as a royal whilst the kingdom was as unstable as it currently was. Doing that would make you a prime target of extremists as a way to try and display their own power and conviction and also make the royals seem weak. He couldn’t let that happen. Shaking his head and heaving a sigh, he returned to work once more.

It wasn’t until his vision blurred to the point of being physically unable to read that he stopped, rubbing his eyes no longer clearing them. Knowing he had reached his daily limit he rose to his feet, placing away the documents securely for him to start on again when he had rested. The halls were silent apart from the echo of his own footsteps as he made his way back to his room.

He didn’t turn on the light, the curtains were cracked illuminating your sleeping form, walking to you, he rested a hand on your cheek when he noticed the furrow in your brow, clearly troubled even in your sleep. Even with his presence your expression didn’t soften. Stripping off his normal clothes he took his place in bed beside you, facing out the window he continued to gaze at the full moon. His back was cold, you were as far away from him as the bed would allow, curled up at the very edge. When this had first started, no matter the time he would return to the room you would greet him with a tired smile, he would admonish you for it each time, and when you thought he had finally fallen asleep you would hug him from behind, your warmth helping to lull him into slumber. How long had it been since that stopped?

Back in his office the next day he wasn’t given time to dwell on the thoughts from the previous night as he was straight back into work. Hours merged as paper after paper was taken, read, analysed, commented on, accepted, declines or sent back for more information. It was a knock on the door that once again drew his attention away. Sighing, he gave a call for them to enter and Mikhail did so followed by you.

“What are you doing here?” His tone came out far more clipped than he meant it to be, and he noticed you shrink back slightly from him, before he looked to your hands. In them lay a tray, a plate on top with steam rolling off the meal.

“I made you lunch.” He turned away, time spent with you was easy, it was far too easy to lose track and end up having lost hours of the day when he promised himself he would only take half an hour out. The insinuation of the meal was clear, you wanted to eat with him. He wanted to indulge you and himself, but there just wasn’t the time in his day.

“Thank you, leave it there and I’ll get to it shortly.”

“Can’t we-“

“Mikhail, in future please deliver meals yourself, she doesn’t need to waste time on such errands when she still has training to complete.” The butler’s expression fell somewhere between shock and a frown.

“Your Highness-“

“Ivan I can take a short while out of my day to give you lunch, and you should take time out as well!”

“You don’t know, as a matter of fact I don’t have time to take out.” He didn’t bother to add on that it was that way no matter his own desires. “Please leave now, I don’t have time to argue about this.” He raised his hand and motioned to Mikhail, the silver haired man sighed, stepping forward and resting a hand on your back.

“Please allow me to escort you out my lady.” The sympathy in his voice was clear as he began to gently guide you from the room.

“Wait a moment.” Your head snapped around the moment his voice reached your ears, expectation shining brightly in your eyes. “Friday next week the National Museum of Sanct Sybil is re-opening after major renovations, I will be going to the opening ceremony and you will join me.”

“Next Friday?”

“Yes, I said next Friday.”

“I can’t.”

“I’m sorry?” He glared. “You can’t?”

“I have something I have to do that day.” His patience wearing thin and ignoring the warning stare from Mikhail he stood from his desk, striding over to you.

“Something to do? You will one day be queen of Sanct Sybil, you will be a symbol of power and unity to this country. I’m sorry, but your personal errands can and will be carried out another time! This museum has been a national treasure for decades and you will be there to celebrate its reopening, not being there would be an insult to those who work there and the history of Sanct Sybil itself! Your attendance is non negotiable! Do I make myself clear?” His frustration leaked into his voice clearly, spoken so loudly is nearly echoed in the room. Any argument you had died in your throat, the unshed tears shone in your eyes and you didn’t respond, turning on your heels and fleeing from the office. Mikhail seemed conflicted, eyes flitting between the door you just exited through and back to him. He sighed, seating himself back in his chair.

“Your Highness-“

“Don’t lecture me Mikhail. No matter what she had planned, this is a huge reflection on her character. The people of Sanct Sybil support her, but if they think she’s starting to shirk her duties she could lose that favour. If she loses public support she could be in even more danger, we might be forbidden from being together.”

“Ivan.” The use of his first name drew his eyes up to the silver haired man. “I hold a lot of respect for you, and I tell you this not just as your butler, but as a friend. I know you do and say what you do to her to protect her, but she doesn’t. You should listen to what she has to say.”

“Are you deliberately ignoring my orders? I told you not to lecture me yet you do so anyway. Our relationship is none of your concern, and you will not interfere.” There was a tense moment of silence before Mikhail sighed.

“Very well, I’ll leave you be and go and check on her.”

Silence filled the room as he left, soon to be overtaken by the scratch of pen on paper, he needed to get as much done before he had to go to this opening ceremony. Perhaps the two of you could talk then.

The next week passed uneventfully for the most part, only the inclusion of talks around the security of the trip for the two of you and a rather tense conversation around the rise of extremist activities. Of course he was worried, but it was a dangerous balancing act between safety and public image, there were suggestion of brining the military out to the public to act as a deterrent, but doing so too early could also reflect badly on them. The last thing they needed at this point was the public saying that they were only doing this to show their power or that it was an overreaction. Not only that, what if this was part of a bigger plan in which the military was a target? He didn’t want to put lives in danger unnecessarily, be they solider or civilian.

Having finalised the security detail of today, he stared in the mirror, straightening out his collar. You had gone to change in another room leaving him alone with his even stoic butler who ran a lint roller over the back of his suit.

“Are you sure you would like no-one else with you today?”

“No, any more people would make security more difficult and unpredictable, it will just be the two of us, please just prepare for our return and make sure those documents get to where they need to be.” Meeting his eye in the mirror he gave a prompt nod before stepping to the side, allowing him to pass by and leave the room to meet you in the limo.

Making his way down, he didn’t have to wait long for you to appear. In a modest dress you emerged at the end of the hallway with a maid, the woman beside you pulling you into a gentle hug upon noticing your forlorn expression. You seemed to take comfort in the gesture, leaning into the hug and wrapping your arms around the older woman’s back as if trying to use her to hold yourself together. He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the odd behaviour. You soon pulled yourself from the hug, taking a breath before walking out to join him. He went to open the door for you, but you got there before him, pulling the handle and sliding in. He sighed, climbing into the car and noticing you were sat at the other window refusing to meet his eye. He shook his head, simply assuming you were still upset about the fact he had made you attend over your errand so the two of you simply sat in a tense silence. He waited for you to break it, but after ten minutes of you ignoring his presence he decided this silence had gone on for too long.

“Don’t you think enough is enough?” You glanced out the corner of your eye to him, but shut your eyes and turned your face away slightly. “I know you’re upset about your plans, but you mustn’t let it show. You mustn’t let it look like it’s a chore for you to be there.” You still didn’t respond, so with a sigh he conceded. “Fine, act as you like for now. But the moment you’re in public view you need to smile.”

The two of you sunk back into the silence for the remainder of the journey. Upon reaching the museum he automatically put his guard up, exiting the limo first and scanning the surroundings for any sign of trouble as one of the guards offered you his hand and helped you out. He stepped away from the car, holding out his arm in a clear invite for you to take it. Slowly you joined him from your side of the car, guards lining the streets either side of the two of you. As asked, you were smiling, it didn’t reach your eyes, but it was no longer something that could be mentioned, so making do with your loose grip on him he escorted you up the marble stairs to the grand entrance of the museum that was covered by a thick red ribbon that stretched the width of the entryway. The claps and cheers of the audience rung in his ears as he walked you back to the ribbon, pecking you on the cheek, briefly tightening his hand around yours before taking his place at the podium and allowing the crowd to settle before he spoke.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,

It is with much appreciation that myself and the Princess stand here today to commemorate the re-opening of the Sanct Sybil National Museum after two years of hard and dedicated work from skilled craftsmen to restore this iconic monument. The effort put forth by them shines through every part of this structure, and serves as a fitting home for the history once again housed within its wall.

Sanct Sybil has come a long way from where it started, but we must never forget where we came from, or those who made it possible for us to live as we do. Therefore I would like for all of you to join me in celebrating this re-opening, for us to hold dear to our hearts the history that has led us to where we are, and to carry on their legacy of fighting for a better Sanct Sybil so the generations that follow ours can look back on us with the same thankfulness.”

The end of his speech was met with applauds and cheers as he turned and motioned you to his side. You did so obediently, plastering a smile on your face as he took your hand, each of you taking on side of the large scissors he had been given you posed for a moment at the ribbon, allowing the press to get their photos before finally cutting it.

Security stayed barely out of site as he guided you to the side, out of the way of the people entering the museum, nodding and greeting those who spoke to him as they entered.

“Are we not going in ourselves?”

“No, it’s too dangerous at the moment, the security may be the latest but our attendance has been broadcast nationwide. We can’t be sure of who might be waiting for a us.”

“Were you actually going to tell me we were only going to be here to cut the ribbon?”

“It may ‘just’ be ribbon cutting for you, but people can latch onto the smallest things. Crowd mentality could be used against you if you’re seen to be disrespecting Sanct Sybil.”

“Is missing one event all it takes to be seen as disrespectful around here?”

“Times are tense, and the tabloids will jump on anything they can to get a sale, even if it’s discrediting honest people and lying. They don’t care about the damage they do.”

Noticing that the security detail had begun to move, and that everyone had entered the museum, he took your hand in his. “Come now, we should head back to the palace. It’s safer there.”

You looked like you wanted to say something, but bit your tongue no doubt remembering you were still in public, he gently pulled you along, but soon noticed noise and commotion up ahead. Motioning to the closest security guard, he approached looking mildly nervous.

“What’s happening?”

“Your highness, there are protesters. They’ve surrounded the limo.”

“What?” He managed to cloak his panic with just a slight widening of his eyes. “Is there any violence yet?”

“Not as of yet, but they’re riling each other up rather quickly, I don’t imagine it’ll be long.”

He frowned, crowd mentality was a dangerous thing. He had to get you out of there, and fast. He wasn’t going to risk your safety.

“There’s a spare unmarked car around the back of the museum, take her there and get her back to the palace as soon as possible. Let myself and my security detail know as soon as she’s there.”

“Ivan! I’m not leaving you-“

“You are.” He motioned to some of the security force. “You’ll guide her there, make sure no one is following you. Stay on high alert until she’s back within the palace gates, do you understand me? If anything happens to her, you will be held responsible.” They nodded, quickly taking your arm despite your protests and taking you around the side of the museum. He turned his back on you, walking away as he heard you calling out his name. “Be safe.”

It took many stressful hours to subdue the crowd. He had spoken to and made arrangements with more people than he care to count, from liaising with the museum staff to ensure the safe exit of their guests, to the police to get them working together with the royal security to contain the riot and to make sure those who started it were identified and arrested, and then contacting the department of information to pass on the identities of those involved to be investigated. Of course, he hadn’t let the stress show on his face, how could he as the symbol of Sanct Sybil? So by the time he returned to the palace himself, he was thoroughly exhausted.

He went to head to his room, but the hurried footsteps in his direction caused him to pause.

“What the hell are you playing at Ivan?!” Your angry voice reached his ears, and he had to hold back a sigh of exhaustion as he turned to face you.

“This isn’t personal. You needed to be removed from the area for your own safety.”

“Oh no no. You don’t get to make this about me Ivan. I have been trying so hard to be understanding, but I’m reaching my limit here! We promised to stay together! How could you just throw me in a car and send me off like I’m some kind of nuisance?! No explanation, no apology, no reassurance, NOTHING! For eight hours I’ve been wondering if you’re alive, injured, I had no idea! Do you know how helpless you’ve been making me feel recently?!” Your yelling rung around his skull, he needed to talk to you. Tell you of what had been happening, but he couldn’t now. He was far too tired, he couldn’t have such a straining conversation with you in the state he was currently in.

“Look, we can discuss this tomorrow. I’m tired and wish to go to bed now, I’ll be meeting with a number of governors tomorrow, so can we please postpone this until tomorrow evening?”

You seemed frozen in place, eyes wide, limbs shaking with pent up rage as you desperately bit your tongue. That was until you stalked past him.

“I’m staying in a guest room tonight. Don’t disturb me.” Your clipped warning was all he received before you disappeared down the corridor. Something about your tone unsettled him, he had seen you angry before, but to have it directed at him was not a pleasant experience. With another sigh, he trudged back to your shared bedroom, allowing a maid in to take you enough for the night from your wardrobe and vanity, before he changed and slid into bed, hoping the two of you would be able to fully discuss this tomorrow.

The next day was plain, he brushed off Mikhail’s suggestion of having a small talk with you before he left for the day, informing him that he was extremely busy and wouldn’t be free, but he also felt that perhaps it would be better to give you some more time to cool down. When he spoke with you, he wanted the both of you to be calm, he also advised Mikhail to return the items you had taken to the guest room back to your bedroom, he wouldn’t allow this discussion to fail, there was no need for you to sleep in the guest room and cause more work for the maids. His royal duties were easy to deal with, mainly consisting of discussing new potential policies with governors, and deciding whether they make logistical and financial sense, and collecting the paperwork of those that might be for further review. He made quick work of it all, deciding to take some of them home with him, he couldn’t break his plans for tonight.

It was seven in the evening upon his return. The sun had begun to set, dyeing the inside of the palace a beautiful orange. But something was wrong, he could tell. The staff were slow, sullen. The smiles they greeted him with seemed forced.

“Mikhail!” His butler appeared before him as if expecting his call.

“Yes, Your Highness?” He held the papers in his hand out to him.

“Please place these in my office. I need to go and find her.” He obviously knew who the ‘her’ he was referring to was. “Do you know where she is?”

“No, Sir.” He gave a sharp nod to confirm he had heard. There were a few places he thought you could be. The gardens, the library, the guest room you had stayed in. He was confused to find you in none of them, the last place he could think of. The bedroom. Perhaps you hadn’t had a good night sleep, was all he could consider. He knocked on the door, gently calling your name. When he got no response, his brow furrowed. Opening the door the check, his heart dropped. Something was definitely wrong.

The room was bare of any sign of you. The vanity missing your products, your nightstand devoid of framed photos, he checked the wardrobe, half empty. All of your clothes gone. His heart was drumming in his chest, ringing loudly in his ears as the possibilities crowded his thoughts, so he did the only thing he could think to do, and called one of the few people he could trust.

“You called, Your Highness?”

“Mikhail, what’s going on here? Where are her things? Where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

“HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW?!”

“Because the last time I saw her is when she asked for a car to be brought to the front to take her to the airport.” His world seemed to freeze along with his panicked thoughts.

“…What?”

“She left for the airport early this morning.”

“Where was she going?!”

“I don’t know, Sir. I didn’t ask. But I assume she’s gone home.”

“YOU LET HER LEAVE?!”

“Your Highness, it is my job to assist the royals in any request given to me. It is not my job to question and speculate. She asked for a car, I provided her with one. She also asked for me to give you this.” His gloved hand drew an envelope from his blazer pocket, which he then held out to him.

Ivan looked at the crisp white envelope, before carefully plucking it from his butler’s hand. He was furious at him, but he handled it with extreme care, gently running his fingers over his name that was etched in black ink in that familiar handwriting.

“I assumed had has something to do with the funeral.”

“Funeral?”

“Did she not tell you? Her father passed away a few weeks ago, his funeral was yesterday. She was devastated that she couldn’t attend.

The conversation you had had crossed his mind, and he suddenly felt the guilt consume him, he had called something so personal little more than an errand, dismissed it outright. His anger at you felt so misplaced after he realised the reason behind your sadness. Had he truly been so distant from you that you felt unable to tell him something so important?

“Leave, Mikhail. I don’t want to see you for a while.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” He gave a bow, before exiting the room.

Silence enveloped him, and he didn’t want to disturb it, taking slow, quiet steps towards the bed, he turned and sat himself down. Simply staring at the envelope for a while. It felt as if the moment he opened it, he would regret it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to read what you had written. But in the end the concern for your wellbeing being won over his nerves, and he opened the envelope, unfolding the letter inside.

Dear Ivan,

I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore. I wish I were someone stronger, someone you felt you could rely on, someone you felt safe in sharing your troubles with. But these past months have showed me that this isn’t the case. I’ve tried so hard to reach out to you, so many times I’ve tried to give you even a moment’s rest, but you just won’t hear of it. I’m sorry it took me until yesterday to see it.

It’s become clear to me that we can’t stay together, not like this. It feels as if there’s a mountain between us, and that’s not what a marriage should be built on. I’m not even sure if you’ll care that I’ve left, it certainly doesn’t feel like you’ve cared about much at all, not recently at least. Somewhere along the way, the mutual trust between us has been lost. You seem so far out of my reach, and it breaks my heart to even look at you. I’m sorry I’m not someone you could rely on. I wish you well, Ivan, and I truly do wish you are able to find that person, whoever they may be.

I am sad to go, and I have no doubt this will hurt me for a while, but I don’t hold malice towards you. Your job is an important one, I know this, and I’m sorry that I didn’t notice sooner that there was something stopping you from confiding in me as you did. Time changes people, and it appears to have changed us. There can’t be happiness in such a relationship.

I love you Ivan, and I wish you the very best, as the future ruler of Sanct Sybil, and as a person. From the bottom of my heart. I’ve learnt so much at your side, and grown as a person, and I will be forever thankful for that. Goodbye, and may the very best of luck be with you.

Love,

[Y/N]

He stared at the words, reading over them again and again, nearly burning them into his brain. You were gone. He had never realised how large this palace, how large this room felt to be in alone. Your infectious smile and optimism seemed to coat the walls, and with it gone the place felt hollow and empty. Looking up, he placed the letter on his bedside and in its place picked up a simple framed picture of the two of you. It was taken by one of the princes when they all came over simply because they could. The two of you had taken them all to the field you often took Snieg and Urey , the photo had been snapped there.

It was one of your favourite places, and as he thought back on all the time you two had spent there, he recalled a particular conversation he had had with you whilst there on a picnic.

“You look tired Ivan.”

“I’m alright.”

“You don’t need to lie to me, it’s written clear as day on your face.”

“Alright, I am a little tired.”

“I knew it.”

“It’s to be expected. One day I will carry the responsibility of this whole country.”

“The whole country?” The smile you had given him shone bright in his mind. “Isn’t that stressful?”

“…It can be.”

“Well, if that ever becomes too much to think about, try to think about it in terms of those closest to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, trying to see a whole country isn’t easy. So see it as doing the best thing by those close to you! You know, Mikhail, the staff at the palace. To do the best by them, their families need to be happy as well, do by narrowing it down to the individual level it can be less daunting, you know? See it as not the whole country, but as a few people who are close to your heart. That way, you know you wouldn’t do wrong by them.”

The words you had spoken that day rung in his mind, and he pressed his forehead against the glass of the frame and shut his eyes. He hadn’t done what was best for you, too concerned about everything else and assuming how you would react, and only now did he realise he had done so, too late to make amends.

[chubbology]

The angel prompt was so cute! What about an angel who succeeds in losing weight, and a demon who tempts him into getting chubby again by making delicious human foods for him. However, the demon starts gaining some weight as well as he learns to cook and bake... (Also Good Omens themed, naturally ;p)

I can totally see the demon getting thicker as he immerses himself in the world of good food. Deciding there’s ‘a bit more to this eating business’ than he thought, as he absently treats himself to another plate of greasy things. He finds he likes the less…high-class cuisine Earth has to offer. 

Chubby Demon

He’s never seen the angel eat from a box of Little Debbies, but here he is, doing that very thing for the fifth day in a row, making a pile of empty boxes and wrappers he’s been too lazy to miracle away. He can’t stop marveling at the addictive nature of them.  The demon respects this Little Debbie character and her subtle contribution to American-style sin. 

Maybe he gets a little carried away, experimenting with food as a means of tempting the humans. Within a few short years, there’s a considerable spike in obesity in London, and the demon gets a kick out of watching so many newly-fat humans waddle around, red in the face and smelling of gluttony. As the demon slowly widens and rounds out with constant overindulgence in the over-processed and the deep-fried, he instills more cravings in more humans every day until London is positively seeped in weight gain - leading to all sorts of spillover effects of greed and lust and envious vanity.

Hell is quite pleased. The angel is not. In fact, when the demon sees him next, the angel looks thinner and unhappy.

“You’ve done quite the job, you know,” the angel says. “Heaven is having…a difficult time, trying to balance this out.” 

The demon can’t hide his smugness. Or his plump double chin. “Don’t work yourself too hard, angel.”

The angel huffs. He gives the demon a dubious once-over. “Perhaps you need a break from…whatever projects you’re working on as well. You’ve…” The angel’s eyes linger on the demon’s rather tight shirt buttons. For all the demon had grown, his clothes seem to have grown with him - though perhaps not quite enough. “Really changed your look.”

“I have, haven’t I?” The demon chuckles. “Didn’t know demons could make themselves fat, to be honest. But here I am.” He throws up his hands for a moment, arm fat sagging. Then he looks down at himself: at his heavy belly and side rolls and lardy thighs. He’d become more bottom-heavy than expected. 

The angel swallows, also looking. When the demon miracles a box of something categorically unhealthy into his dimpled hands, the angel says, “You can just change your body back with a bit of effort.”

“Could,” the demon shrugs. He sits down and starts eating, taking no note of how much more space his arse takes up on the bench than his companion. The angel takes note. The angel had never dreamed of the demon having such an arse. He can’t stop sneaking glances. Truly, it was almost immense.

“Or, I can just let myself get fatter and watch you squirm.”

The angel blinks, blushing as he tears his eyes away and up to the demon’s thoroughly chubby face. “I-I’m not - your body is your business, of course - ”

The demon smirks and takes an indulgent bite of cream-filled pastry. The lowest button on his shirt, which is stressed over a belly slumped far out into the demon’s lap, puckers in as the fabric around it puffs out a little more. He takes another bite, and a gap of skin forms between two buttons. Another gap. The angel swallows again, very aware the slow swelling taking place all over the demon’s body. Hips blimping out, double chin lowering, arms swelling even thicker as the demon stuffed artless, sugary junk into his mouth. 

The demon’s arse starts to fatten before his eyes, too, squishing out awkwardly between the slats of the bench, and that’s when the angels stands up. “I’ve important business I’ve just remembered, actually.”

The demon raises an eyebrow, a streak of cream on his full cheek. The angel snaps away the streak and, in the same moment, is gone.

The demon leans back and chews. Serves the angel right, he thinks, for being so endearingly chubby for six thousand years and expecting a smitten demon to simply live through it.

by: 🍩

(ty for reading! my ko-fi)

[uminohotaru]

Chapter 2: The story of the lingering night

Summary:

Takes place directly after The Story of Flowing Water. Tahomaru returns for his father's funeral after having spent the winter with Nui and Jukai as a simple villager. Tahomaru's perspective.

Notes:

Finally, I'm posting the continuation. Actually, it was written long ago, back in summer-autumn of 2019, but at that time i was still unsure whether i am truly going to proceed with this fic. My head started to develop a large plot full of new adventures, but my RL was so busy and hectic i couldn't balance the both. Then, about half a year went down the drain in depression and other issues. One of those was desire to hide from any human contact (i felt so much like Taho in the previous chapter lol). So, this whole year, i've been writing down small bits that appeared in my head from time to time without any clear purpose to post them, until there was enough material for a dozen of chapters at least. I am the type to get stressed easily by schedules and expectations, so this relaxed approach was refreshing. At the same time, the lack of schedules and expectations resulted in the work hardly progressing. Was it even something worth writing, or i shouldn't waste my time, i began to wonder (well, if i could, i would've probably ditched it around the time i realized it's going to be so long. But no use. It haunted me and wouldn't let me go). Fuck it, i decided at last, let's just post it and come what may.

Tldr: this chapter is only the beginning of the mess, and the things won't be progressing fast, all because i love the characters and the world of Dororo too much, and wanted to indulge myself for as long as i can :D You may notice that each chapter is preceded by a short introductory scene after which goes the title. This is the anime pattern i wanted to follow (like, a short scene - OP - episode itself) for no particular reason. I will try to post a chapter per week for now (say, on mondays), since ~6 chaps are already written completely, and then we'll see how it goes.

~ The story of the lingering night ~

Fwoosh. A flare of orange in the dark. He brings the fire to the wick, protecting it with his palm. This one… is for the child who was lying on the barren ground, his ribs sticking out, one of his arms devoured by the hungry dogs feasting on the dead flesh like heinous vultures… He squeezes his eyes shut, but it doesn’t drive the image away. Nothing ever will.

Tahomaru, a blunt pain in his chest, resumes his way up the long corridor—an illuminated path he is arranging to welcome his enemy—and stops before another lamp. This one… is for the woman who sat by the wrecked house, her features indistinguishable, rotted to the bones by the illness. Maybe it is for the best that she had fallen in the battle before the plague could turn her face like that, too, he can’t help but think.

“This one… is for the little girl in her arms,” he whispers, his throat squeezed tightly, as he ignites another fire.

Hundreds of faces light up before his eyes, flashes of warm fire against the blackness. So bright and so fragile. His memory holds way more faces than there are lamps in this castle. They all had died so the one could live on. If the deal was wrong, shouldn’t they have existed in the first place? Should they have never been born? Is it the law of the merciful gods his mother has always been praying to?

Another flash. He is setting his life aflame with his own hands. A few moments later, this fire will spread all over the castle. It will become the funeral pyre of the Daigo domain. He doesn’t know it yet.

Or maybe he does.

“My brother and I were taken hostage by the enemy when we were young. Had the Daigo land not flourished, we would not be here.”

“This one is for Hyogo. This one… is for Mutsu.”

Twin flames of fire behind his shoulders, one on the left and one on the right, illuminate the room.

Tahomaru stabs his sword into the floor and squeezes all his eyes shut, centering himself. This is his home. He can sense the familiar presence behind and knows that they are here, with him, silently watching him. And yet, now, he is alone. Alone to face the demon.

The lights go down. Tap, tap in the dark. He’s here.

Here, in the core of the Daigo castle, in the room where they both were born, their paths are colliding for the final clash. Here, only one of them will remain.

…They could have been brothers. They could have grown and played here together. This is what he used to imagine, in those rare moments between sleep and wake, when his mind was wandering, untamed. The remnants of the naivete of the stupid boy who had died by the Banmon. Tahomaru knew better now than to fall into the trap of illusions; for in this story, there were no “if’s”. Had the demons not gotten his brother, Tahomaru would not exist either. Or if he had, he would not be the same: just a boy who looks up to his elder brother, sharing with him the burden of responsibility; a boy who is cherished by his mother, as there would be no reason for her to hate him. She would not look through him as if he were a ghost. He would not be dying inside each time, desperate to understand what he had done wrong. Maybe he would not even be called like that, for Tahoumaru, “Many Treasures”, is the name suited for an heir, not a second son.

The Tahomaru he is was born upon the sacrifice of his brother. Now, it is for their swords to decide whether that was wrong. And if that was—then he will go down with his people whom he has sworn to never forsake.

Day and night cannot coexist. Just like that, their paths can never merge.

The enemy, whose dark shadow appears against the dim light of the entrance, two bloodied blades in his hands, certainly believes the same. Continue on AO3 ->

[wisdomrays]

TAFAKKUR: Part 40

Your Stomach: Part 2

You cannot move the muscles of my walls like you can your arm or leg muscles. The muscles are commanded and start working according to orders from an autonomous nervous system that you are not even aware of. An important feature of these muscles is that they work slowly, but take a long time to get tired. At the same time, they are very susceptible to growing if you do not take care of yourself properly; if you are not careful I can swell up quickly like a balloon. The evil side of human character has a very close connection with me; so you have to be very careful not to eat and drink too much and consume unlawful food. Otherwise, you might become weak and be easily misled and consequently this makes me nothing more than a waste container and then I become a pest.

Let me tell you some of the things that I do not like. At the top of the list is very hot or very cold food or beverages. Both ruin the enzymes and make them dysfunctional. The best condition for enzymes to work is at your body temperature-that is 36-37 degrees. There are more scientists today than before who think that overly hot or burnt food can cause my cells to turn cancerous. If you heat very cold items in your mouth and then swallow you protect me from getting cold – because if I get cold I contract and my working balance becomes dysfunctional so that I am no longer able to do my job.

When I finish my job of extracting the nutrients and treating them with the enzymes the food takes on a liquid form. When the food has achieved the desired texture I send it through to the intestines that are right below me. In this regard, I am like this transitory worldly life, which is nothing more than a two-door guesthouse-one door for entrance and the other door for exit. I never retain anything in me-I receive from one end and send it out the other. There is no door between myself and the esophagus, so I can take out what is in me if I have to by vomiting. At first, this vomiting reflex might seem a bad thing and you might wonder why there is nothing to prevent this? But let me remind you of something, what if you mistakenly eat something poisonous or something that has gone off, what would you do if you could not vomit? You would have to be taken to hospital so that you do not die of food poisoning and an incision would have to be made in the stomach; I would have to be cleansed out, but by this time you might have died. However, if I feel that something you have eaten is bad I can remove it. But with the gateway that is placed between myself and the intestines I am able to stop the food in the intestines from coming back to ruin the acidic atmosphere in me, as the enzymes in the intestines work under more neutral conditions. My acidic structure would disrupt the intestine’s enzymes. In particular, if the bile salts excreted from the liver and the pancreas enzymes should spill into me the situation would be very chaotic.

Another important piece of advice I can offer to you is not to play any sports when I am full and not to strain yourself. The thick muscle lining on the walls requires a lot of blood to move. After eating a significant amount of blood is withdrawn from other parts of the body and sent to me. If you try to be active in this state you will suffer, as the rest of your organs will not be nourished properly and stress will be put on your heart.

Here’s another secret I’m going to let you in on: the more you fill me up without thinking about whether it is necessary and lawful or not, the more likely it is that you will make spiritual mistakes. Your spiritual well-being and health are inversely proportional to a full stomach. If you make me grow too much all your veins, starting with your heart, will start to gather fat and therefore their functions will slow down. Also your spiritual side will be dulled. Actually it is enough for a person to eat only what they need to survive. Serving your senses of taste and eating within the allowed parameters by remembering the Giver will not only give me peace but will also take you to spiritual horizons. After the food passes through your mouth it does not make much of a difference to me whether it is sweet or salty. Therefore, if you can take charge of your mouth, which acts as a gatekeeper, you can protect yourself from waste and from putting on extra kilos.

Some time ago some people would laugh at my above advice, and they would say, “Good food is the backbone of life and one should feed well.” But now modern medicine and dieticians have started to give the same advice I have been giving for years and they state that eating enough for sustenance is adequate. Most illnesses arise from over-eating; good food may be the backbone of life, but too much of it is a prescription for an early death.

In particular, with the dietary change that you make during the month of Ramadan, I and my team are able to renew ourselves; it is like a fitness camp that prepares us for a new term. This is an important need for us to start the new season. The time for this is approaching. I expect you will use your will power and allow me to rest as commanded. To continue with your life you need me to provide you the nutrients and energy, because without me even your heart could not function. At the root of all biological sustenance there is a need for food intake. Accordingly, I am like a double bladed sword. You should neither neglect me nor indulge me too much. I hope that you will display this balanced outlook and behavior.

[octaviangrey]

My Top 20 Fanfic Recommendations

Aka what to read to understand me/my tastes or what fanfic I’d bring to a desert island to avoid boredom.

First off this is my personal favorites and most highly recommended list, you may not like some or all of them, that’s fine.

Secondly, I’ve been wanting to make this sort of list for a while - a collection of my favorite fanfics and authors in one place which I can refer back to/up date as time goes by.

This will be mostly Naruto fanfic, since I’ve been in that fandom the longest, though I have included works from other fandoms such as; The Hobbit, Harry Potter, Star Wars, Inuyasha, MCU, American Gods, Girl Genius, Labyrinth, Van Helsing, and Batman The Dark Knight Rises.

Links to fic, and author page, included. I try to mention if I know someone is on tumblr. Let me know if I missed anybody.

Be sure to read the tags, and pay attention to the warnings before reading any of these - you are in control of what you consume in fandom. If you are feeling unsure about a fic and want to ask someone about it before reading, feel free to contact me! I try to check my messages regularly.

Please try to leave a comment/like/kudos if you enjoy the fics, the authors all deserve them. (If you can’t leave comments, that’s fine too - real life be like that sometimes. Don’t stress over it.)

20. To Trammel Some Wild Thing By Anon E. Mouse

This is completely self indulgent and a delight to read. The characterization is good and its plot is so much fun. I’m an unrepentant Dracula fan, in all his forms, and this ones damn entertaining. Incomplete - Anna/Dracula - Van Helsing

19. Nukenin By WhisperingDarkness

This fic, and the works inspired by it, are so much fun to read. Basically a 3 for 1 recommendation (be sure to check the links at the end!) A great Kakashi centric work, their characterization is excellent and the kids are great! Complete - No Pairing - Naruto

18. Fear By Almighty_Hat

I know, I know this isn’t the OT3, but bear with me, this is a really good series, looking at what ifs and giving us All the Jagers. Great slice of life Girl Genius style. Complete with an Incomplete series - Agatha/Jorji - Girl Genius

17. Klepto By DeGlace

This so much fun! A rare pair for sure, but it is so good. The chemistry between these two is amazingly portrayed. This fic is sexy, it’s vicious, it holds no bars and delivers on every promise. Also be sure to check out their fic Marrow, which just missed this list. Complete - Catwoman/Bane - Batman Darknight Rises

16. More Fair Than Snow By Jalen Strix

Oh man, this is such a good series. This author in general is very good, and has several other excellent fics, but this series is my favorite of the lot. Great balance of magic and real world, interesting use of fairy tales and a wonderful romance. Complete - Jareth/Sarah - Labyrinth

15. The Woods Are Deep, My Dear by Azzandra

Baby Agatha! World building! AGATHAS AMAZING GRANDMA! A delight to read, it is so fricking cute, and Grandma here kicks ass. The author also has some other great Au’s so check those out. Incomplete - no pairing - Girl Genius

14. RED KING By VesperChan but also on AO3

This author has so many great fics, but this is my favorite. They are also on tumblr! This fic is so gripping and atmospheric, a real feast for the mind. Can recommend the Obleisk series too. Complete - Sakura/Madara - Naruto

13. Lost and Found By NovusArs

Fem!Bilbo Baggins finds and adopts baby dwarves and the adventures thereof. The fic is cute, the characters are cute, the lore is great and this is so fluffy you guys. So fluffy. Incomplete - Bilbo/Bofur- The Hobbit

12. Lord Charming by forthright

This fic is sooo good. The drama, the lore building, the execution, all perfect. Now I know the chapter numbers look intimidating, but they are written in 100 words chapters, so don’t fear too much, you’ll get through it! Complete - Sesshoumaru/Kagome - Inuyasha

11. The House that Luck Built By TheBlackestFrost

This is so well researched, it’s use of belief and mythology is superb. I had so much fun reading this, but also I cried during some of it too. An amazing fix that convinces you of the romance with one of the parties being dead for most of it. Author on tumblr! Give! Them! A look! Complete - Laura/Sweeney - American Gods.

10. The Company of Trees By theroadkillcafe

This is my favorite Mokuton!Sakura fic ever. It’s amazing, it really captures the trials and tribulations of a young girl who’s life is changed so drastically. The supporting cast is really good too. Incomplete - No Pairing - Naruto

9. Kill Your Heroes by TheLightAtLastAndAlways aka Evil Is A Relative Term

Aaaaaaaaaa this is so good!!! The lore! The character growth! The plot twists! This is a masterpiece of writing, and I adore it. This author is never afraid to give gritty consequences, while keeping it fun and action packed. Incomplete - Itachi/Sakura sort of - Naruto

8. Retrograde Motion by Crunchysunrises

This is a fantastic example of the Time Travel trope, and tackles some really interesting lore and world building. I unreservedly love the part were we see Sakura’s seals from her family. It touched me so much I reread the whole thing 3 times in short order. Incomplete - No pairing - Naruto.

7. Amaryllis By silverfootsteps

This author is on tumblr, go check them out! And also this fantastic AU fic! I fell in love with this world, and the characters in it. A rich setting to sink your teeth into, with masterful twists and turns. Itachi is a very delicate flower and it’s great. Incomplete - Itachi/Sakura - Naruto

6. Sansûkh By determamfidd

This fic is amazing, I was able to get my mother in fanfic with this. I think it’s really well written, it feels very organic with the Tolkien world. I’m gonna get this hand bound in leather once it’s complete and gift it to myself, I want this in hard copy. Bilbo/Thorin - The Hobbit & LotR

5. Meeting Like This by FettsOnTop

And also the rest of the series. This Author is a prolific Boba/Leia writer, and all of it’s good, so give it a go and check them out! This series really defined this ship for me, and is my favorite work by the author so far. Complete - Boba Fett/Leia Organa - Star Wars

4. The Pilgrim Soul By jachap

Holy heck in a hand basket this fic is a feast. You will drown in this, the richness of this world will linger long after the final chapter ends. This is a historical fic, starting in the 1920’s and just keeps going even in the sequel. So much research has been done for this, and you can tell. Be warned you will cry. Has a sequel that’s just as good and being updated. Complete - Darcy/Steve/Bucky - MCU

3. Hermione Granger and the Serpents Renaissance by epsi10n.

This is my absolute favorite Harry Potter fic, it’s incredible. The author is very good at building tension, and then ending their chapters on cliff hangers, so you spend plenty of time on the edge of your seat reading this. Incomplete - Hermione/currently undecided. - Harry Potter

2. The Eyes Have It By Shana the Short

Written for FaNoWriMo. I adore this, and it’s incomplete sequel. It’s. So. Good. I can not recommend this enough - it’s fun, it explores interesting lore on what it would be like to develop a brand new Kekkei Genkai, and it has great character development for those who would usually go over looked. Complete - Sakura/Chojuro in the sequel. - Naruto

1. Five Kingdoms for the Dead by Evil Is A Relative Term

This is it, this right here is my favorite fanfic of all time. I LOVE this. I love the characterization, the plot, and is one favorite depiction of Madara Uchiha in fiction. Of all time. This author has already appeared on this list before, and I cannot recommend enough going out and checking out their work. Complete - Neji/Sakura - Naruto

This is not the be all, end all of good fic I’ve read, let alone all the good fic that exists, and I am very tempted to just add a list of authors I like too, but that would be a very ambitious list. Seriously, the number of stories I had to put aside because I love them but they are not quite on the list.... I have 1760 subsripctions just on AO3 alone. I couldn’t fit them all on here.

P. S. If you wish to reblog with any fic recs of your own, please do so! I’m always looking for new reading material!

[crapitskizaru]

Hi honey. I hope you are having a great day. I just wanted to ask you if you also take song requests? If yes, can you maybe do „I say no“ from heathers with Doflamingo and his s/o please? If not, then just see this as my way of telling you that you are an amazing writer and my favourite OP-Blog. Take care darling ☺️❤️

Warning: angst/breakup

Word Count: 1,2k

Was he worth it?

Their eyes moved along his sharp cheekbones, frowned expression that seemed to reveal how much anxiety the man truly carried in his heart, his golden hair - some people would call it an evidence of the royal blood flowing through his veins, but to them it only worked as a reminder of all the heated nights they shared and their trembling hands seeking balance on his lap. 

The red tie was loose around his neck, the courtesy of their fingers taking attempts to get rid of it until they eventually gave up and indulged in how much pleasure the man was waking up inside them just mere hours ago. 

As they caressed a loving trace on his chin, they couldn’t help but think he was entirely different when asleep - at least from what they dared to imagine before they got together. 

Instead of an angelic expression of peacefulness, his face showed stress, perhaps even fear, twitching and wrinkling every few seconds. Despite being immersed in slumber, he seemed restless - as if nothing could provide escape from his own self.

You are a drug. You are a poison pill.

He let out a quiet gasp and shifted among the sheets. It weren’t his constant nightmares that made them feel uneasy, rather the fact that he started turning his reality into those horrors as well. 

Why that was, they could only wonder. Wouldn’t it be better to take control of what can be changed, what can heal his scars, let him accept forgiveness? 

I've got to kick this habit now or else I never will. I love the rush When you would hold me close, but you will not be satisfied until I overdose.

It was like a curtain falling from in front of their eyes, allowing them to realize the truth about the man laying beside - he was sick, already far beyond healing, at least when it came to his lover’s capabilities. 

This is it! Hit the break! I am finally awake. Let me be, Let me go.

They couldn’t move their gaze away from his face; maybe it was sentiment, or maybe just fear from the realization how dangerous the man was. 

“You’re going to drag me down,” they whispered, still observing his sleeping expression. “I have to leave.” 

Repeating the last sentence over and over again under their breath, their stare lingered just a second too long as they got lost in their own thoughts. And when they came back to their senses, his eyes were already open. 

“If you want to run away, planning an escape while laying on me is not a good idea.” His voice was low and gravely serious, barely containing any signs of drowsiness. “I can hear every word of yours.” 

They struggled to lift themselves up on their elbows, unconsciously trying to create any sort of distance from the man.

“You need help that I can’t provide,” they said, swallowing thickly. “I’m not qualified.”

The accelerated beats of their heart seemed to speed up even more when he suddenly reached out with his hand and cupped their cheek, his fingers caressing their skin. 

“Weird.” He gave them that particular smile that carried no joy or happiness in it. “I thought you made me a better man.” 

“I thought so too. Now I see how wrong I was.” 

The heavy silence that took over the room gave them a sudden charge of courage. 

“And don’t you dare dismiss me this time. I know who you are. I know you’ll twist the truth again.” 

“What is that truth you’re speaking of?” His palm left their cheek and dropped down to swipe along their collarbone. “Tell me. Tell me how much you hate me.” 

“You said you’d change.” They internally cursed themselves when their voice broke, the courtesy of hot tears already irritating their vision. Despite the darkness, they looked up in search for his eyes. “And I believed in you.”

“Oh, (Name),” he muttered, and suddenly they found themselves being pinned down beneath his huge body. The trail of heated kisses he sent down their neck made them think of a snake, writhing around to eventually squeeze all the air from their lungs. “Don’t you know you shouldn’t ever believe a man such as myself?” 

They gasped when his mouth bit into their skin, almost with affection, and automatically reached to tangle their fingers into his hair. 

“See?” His low purr emerged just beside their ear. “You love it so much. How can you ever leave me?” 

“Because-” They suddenly jerked themselves upwards, trying to push him off. His words were already getting into their brain. “-you’re using me. You always did. That’s the only way you can justify the harm you do to the world.” 

You need help! I can't provide! I'm not Bonnie you're not Clyde It's not too late, I'm getting straight. I say no.

He observed their frantic movements when they hopped off the bed and started searching for a bag. This wasn’t just a routine quarrel. If things indeed had to end between them, they have to take every last thing they own from this place, erase their presence from the memory of his castle. 

“If you leave now-” His voice was still even, with almost no emotion. The only indicator of his true feelings were the veins, popping one by one on his forehead. “-you think you can make it outside of my land? I gave you your position. You’re going to be a nobody, out there in the world.” 

“Call it all my mistake then,” they murmured, focusing on gathering their clothes. “As long as you let me go, I don’t care.”

Just when they pulled the zipper on the bag, ready to leave, his familiarly strong arms wrapped around them, trapping them in place. 

He spoke in a slow, almost careful manner; his calm breaths tickling their ear. “I’m a king. What did you expect? I have to be ruthless. I have to be strict. That’s how you earn respect.” 

“You push people to do bad things,” they whispered, breathing in his scent. “That’s not what a good king does.” 

“Don’t teach me how to rule.” 

His grip around them strengthened, making it hard to inhale. But it felt good, just so good to have him close, to feel his warmth. They closed their eyes and let the heat radiating off his body spread along their back. 

“You don’t have to be like that. For your nightmares blame your father, your childhood, the life you never had. But hurting people, controlling them - that’s your choice.” 

They turned around in his embrace and looked in those cold, blue eyes. 

“You wanted me to tell you how much I hate you,” they whispered. “But I don’t. I don’t hate you because hate will earn you nothing in the end. You should remember that.”

Slowly, they leaned in. When their lips met his in a delicate peck, for a second they wished for this moment to last forever. His lips, his scent, his warmth - it was all addicting and just so hard to let go of. 

“Goodbye,” they said, wriggling out of his grip. The inevitable tears gathered in their eyes when they grabbed their bag from the ground and marched away - leaving the man alone in the room. 

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

Not-So Tiny Sides: The First Day After

A/N: Welp, it only took a year, haha, but we finally got up and finished this story! Forgive us for the delay or not, but, uh...yeah. Either way, we’re posting this. If you do forgive us, thank you for being patient!

Patton woke up the morning after they had all been cursed hoping everything was just some weird dream he had thought up. Then he walked out to the Common Room and found Roman in Virgil’s old clothes and Virgil biting his fingernails like he did when they were younger and he knew. That wasn’t a dream, that was yesterday, and the curse hadn’t worn off. “Hey, kiddos,” Patton said. “Where’s Logan?”

Roman looked over and shrugged. “He saw us like this, freaked out, and ran back to his room. I haven’t the faintest what he thinks that will achieve.”

Patton felt a sinking in his stomach. Already, he could feel himself slipping into a place where he would feel safer, but he couldn’t do that, not if everyone else needed him. He sat down on the table in front of the couch and sighed. “Well, we’ll make sure he’s okay in a minute. Right now, we have to do a little more research into what this thing is, exactly. And we should probably bring Thomas into it.”

Virgil whimpered at that and shook his head. “No. No no no.”

Patton rubbed the back of his neck. “I know you don’t want to, kiddo, but he’s gonna find out one way or the other. Isn’t it better for him to be prepared if something happens?”

Virgil looked him over, and Patton did his best to look entirely open without showing how scared he was about this whole thing. After an eternity, Virgil swallowed and nodded. “Okay.”

Patton nodded. “So, we have two options: get into what this is, and then tell Thomas, or tell Thomas first and then research with him.”

Roman shrugged. “I mean he’s going to know either way, why don’t we just tell him now?”

“‘Cause what if there’s bad stuff about it that we don’t know yet?” Virgil asked.

Patton was about to respond when he found himself sinking out of the Mind Palace and summoned into Thomas’ living room, where Logan was already standing, sucking his thumb. “Hey, Pat,” Thomas said casually. “Care to explain why, exactly, Logan is sucking his thumb, and what happened yesterday that he keeps mumbling about?”

Oh. Thomas was more than a little irritated, and that was not how Patton wanted to go into things. “I’ve only done a little bit of research myself, Thomas, but uh...Roman-took-us-on-a-quest-and-the-Dragon-Witch-cursed-everyone.”

Thomas sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Cursed you how, exactly?”

“Uh...she replaced something about our coping mechanisms so that instead of handling stress or work like we would normally, we go through this thing, as far as I know it’s called age regression? And it’s where someone basically acts like a child or has childlike behavior for whatever reason. Apparently one of the things Logan does is...he sucks his thumb.”

Thomas looked between Logan, who was staring at Patton with betrayal on his face even as he kept his thumb in his mouth, and Patton himself, who was starting to worry about Thomas’ reaction, and how the others might behave if he kept acting irritated. “You’ve got to be joking.”

Patton winced. “Uh...sorry, Thomas, but I’m dead serious.”

“I am going to kill Roman,” Thomas muttered.

“Don’t do that!” Patton exclaimed. “He blames himself enough! And besides, everyone is already only barely holding on by a thread! Do you really want to make someone besides Logan slip up? Virgil’s already jittery and Roman did not take everything well yesterday. No blaming anyone!”

Thomas just groaned and waved a hand toward Roman’s corner, causing the creative aspect to rise up, still in Virgil’s old clothes. Roman took one look at Thomas and immediately shrank back and away. “I’m-sorry-I’m-sorry-I’m-sorry,” he immediately started saying so fast Patton could barely make it out.

When Thomas held up a hand Roman stopped, but not without shoving a fist in front of his mouth, or unshed tears in his eyes. “You guys really like making my life difficult. Where’s Virgil?”

On cue, Virgil appeared on the steps, still chewing on his fingernails. “Don’t do that!” he whined. “I don’t like being alone suddenly for no good reason.”

Thomas’ eyebrows raised and Virgil shrunk in on himself slightly. “It’s Roman’s fault,” he defended.

“Is not!” Roman exclaimed.

“Is so!” Virgil said.

“You said yesterday it wasn’t my fault!” Roman shot back.

“He also was an adult when he said that,” Patton gently pointed out. “It’s a lot easier to blame someone else as a kid when you’re scared, Roman. Virgil’s just freaking out a little, which is completely allowed under the circumstances.”

Thomas blinked and turned to Patton. “Since when are you the mediator?”

“Since I’m the only level-headed adult left in the room,” Patton muttered under his breath. Out loud he said, “Well, someone has to do it, and they obviously can’t.”

Thomas shot him a look that Patton took to mean Thomas had probably heard what he said under his breath, but he was going to let that subject matter drop for now. “Okay, so that explains the why. Do we know the how?” Thomas asked. “And more importantly, do we know the how to change this back?”

“No and no,” Logan said, removing his thumb from his mouth. “There was obviously some sort of inhalant in the smoke that we were forced to breathe in from the Dragon Witch. Beyond that I haven’t the faintest what could have occurred, scientifically speaking, to cause this.”

“Hey, welcome back, Logan!” Patton said with forced cheer. Someone else was adult now, which only made him further feel like he had to slip. He scrambled for shreds of his adulthood but all the emotions running higher than normal just knocked him off his feet completely. Without warning, his hands starting moving rapidly left to right at the wrist joint as his anxieties rose.

Virgil looked over at him. “You good, Pat?”

Patton just forced a smile and nodded.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “Liar,” he said.

Though there wasn’t any real venom behind the statement, Patton felt hurt, and he was sure it showed on his face. His hand rocking just sped up into overtime.

Virgil tentatively got up, walked over, and gave Patton a hug. Patton stiffened at the first touch, but soon melted into the embrace, bringing his hands around Virgil’s middle and trying to stop the shaking that had started to take over his body. “It’s okay,” Virgil murmured. “It’s okay, Pat.”

“No it’s not,” Patton said softly, but with conviction. “It’s not, and that’s the problem.”

Virgil sighed and nodded. “But no use working yourself up over it, now is there?”

Patton closed his eyes and a few tears leaked out, but he said nothing, only hugged Virgil tighter. Virgil rubbed circles on Patton’s back, and when Patton felt marginally better he pat Virgil on the back twice to let him go.

Virgil went back to his spot and Patton wiped his few remaining tears away. “Sorry,” he said. “Got a little carried away, there...”

“I fail to understand why you would apologize for merely expressing emotions, when logically speaking, that’s a majority of your function,” Logan said.

“Eh, it’s what the emotions say I should do,” Patton joked.

Logan squinted at him, and Patton shifted on his feet. Did he say or do something wrong? Was he not allowed to joke about this? What was going on? “You appear to be the oldest out of all of us when this thing...occurs. Any idea why that might be?”

Patton shrugged helplessly. “Nope. Do you have any idea why?”

Logan shook his head. “Were I under duress to find an answer, I would say that perhaps because you are used to indulging in childlike behaviors, you were affected less than those of us who put on a more forced sense of maturity. However, there is no way to test that hypothesis.”

Thomas sighed and shook his head. “Well that explains why my emotions have been everywhere and I’ve overall felt off-balance. What do we do now?”

“I would recommend looking into this more,” Logan said. “With knowledge comes the possibility of staving off whatever caused this until more opportune times.”

Thomas nodded, and looked everyone over. “Well, it looks like you and me might be the ones to focus on the research, Logan, I don’t know if anyone else is currently up to it.”

Patton dropped his head in guilt. He didn’t mean to cause a problem, honest, it just...sort of happened.

There was a hand on his shoulder and Patton looked up to find Thomas looking him over. “You can’t blame yourself for this, Patton,” Thomas said. “Any of it. And that includes how you feel. Come on, let’s look around the apartment for a bit, I’m sure we could find something that you might like to do. I probably have an old coloring book or two somewhere.”

Patton smiled and nodded at the offer. And such went the rest of the morning. Logan was doing research on the computer, Roman was scrawling stories in the margins of old papers, and Virgil seemed content to curl up under a blanket and doze.

By lunch they had a bit more information about what age regression was, and ways that they could find small releases if there was no way around feeling different, but had no idea what they could do to reverse this. It was around lunch that Roman brought up the possibility no one wanted to wonder about. “What if we can’t change this back?” Roman asked.

“Well, logically speaking, I suppose that we would set up some sort of...schedule for release from responsibilities so we’re not all stuck in various stages of regression,” Logan said.

“That’s not a bad idea to set up anyway,” Thomas pointed out. “Each day someone could have the opportunity to regress, and if they don’t take it there could be a second chance for someone else. And we just rotate through the week.”

Patton looked up from the paper he was doodling on. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” he said. “Maybe Logan could have Mondays, Virgil Tuesdays, Roman Thursdays, and myself Fridays? Weekends are fair game for everyone, and Wednesday is a day where we all try to be adult.”

Logan thought about it. “I could switch days with you, Patton. There’s no need for you to go last.”

Patton shrugged. “You said yourself I seem the least affected by the curse. Only makes sense that I would be able to mostly wait longer too.”

Logan looked like he wanted to protest but ultimately shrugged it off. “If you insist,” he said. “I can type up a schedule and save it to the computer so there’s no fights over who does what on which day.”

Patton nodded idly and everyone else murmured agreement. Already, Patton felt stuck inside his own head again. What would happen if they couldn’t change this back? What if the curse just made them worse and worse and it never stopped? There were too many ways this could go wrong, and Patton couldn’t account for all of them. He curled up in a ball and tried to force himself to think happy thoughts, but it wasn’t working.

Virgil came over and draped part of his blanket over Patton. “It’s gonna be okay,” Virgil whispered. “We all have each other, we’re gonna get through this.”

Yeah, Patton supposed that was true. Even if this curse lasted a while, they would still have each other, and that was important.

Okay. Yeah, he could get through this.

Tag List: @cjcipher666