#and it makes me feel paralyzed and terrified of ever creating again

[hypnowave]

making proportional, neatly lined, colored and shaded art pieces of my original characters is not enough i need to vomit brightly colored paint all over cheap art store canvasses & make 7 billion wonky clay pots that will explode in the kiln & weave ropes into intricate macrame textiles just to set them on fire & sew together unsightly clothing articles of clashing patterns and textures & make handmade recycled paper & build wooden plane miniatures while trying not to choke on wood chips

[yyawnjun]

THE ANATOMY OF A HUG

jungwon x gn!reader ; short drabble; 0.4k wc ; fluff ; jungwon nd the reader are best friends!!(for now...) ; i just saw this piece of art online and i was mesmerized ; i am sure will make more drabbles inspired by art ; not proofread, 'm sorry ; @kflixnet

"Do you know who Luna Lu is?" Jungwon asked, scrolling through his phone as you sat on the couch with your head on his shoulder.

You only shake your head at those words, which appear to come out of nowhere.

"She's a cool artist, look at this piece," he added, smiling at you. "It's called Anatomy of a Hug."

"This piece makes hugs beautiful and comforting, doesn't it?" he said, while you were mesmerized by that work of art.

"Woah…I also believe it's because your heart is kind and your hugs are so comforting, you know?" you added without thinking and without noting his reaction - as his smile softened and his eyes sparkled a little.

"You think so mh?" He chuckled as he said it, and his voice cracked slightly as his heart beat quicker than normal.

And you just nodded, closing your eyes again, almost falling asleep in that pleasant moment that had been created.

You both couldn't get that piece of art out of your head, no matter how hard you tried. Both of your hearts desired and screamed for a hug… So, how come no one spoke up for the hearts? What do you have to be terrified of?

"Hug?" he exclaimed at one point.

"What?" you asked, verifying that you had heard correctly.

"C'mon, you heard me.."

You did not hesitate as his eyes moved.

You stepped between his legs as he sat with his legs crossed. There was no sexual tension between you as if your spirits were hugging each other at that time.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head on his right shoulder, while he placed his arms around your waist and rested his head on your right shoulder.

Speaking with your best friend suddenly turned awkward? Because you had so many things to say but your lips were paralyzed…

"My heart is beating so fast, my god," you chuckled, not thinking much because the awkward feeling had become comfortable now.

"Yn our beats are now synchronized," he said, pulling you closer to him and squeezing you slightly.

What were those feelings?

"…If we keep going like this, dumbass, I might fall in love with you," you joked?

"Same here, I might even give in to my desire to kiss you" Jungwon added.

More terrified than ever, both of you two did not move…

[runawaymun]

Have you ever just stared at an idea and couldn't write it? You want to buy it's so you tailored that no one will read it, in fact your scared that people who ship the rare pair might be disappointed with it.

If so how do you deal with it because I am struggling. I lost a lot of my creative drive because I feel like no one wants to hear my stories. Has that ever happened to you?

Sorry to come in and like have a big sad in you inbox but I love your work and I always wonder if other people with such amazing work feel this way too.

Ah, nonnie, you sent this in a little while ago and I was laid flat, so I'm so sorry that it has taken me this long to reply!

But yes, this has happened to me! I think it's very natural. The only way you can get past it is by saying fuck it tbh. Write what you want to write; write what makes you happy!

I thought Stars was going to be way too hyperspecific to me. I hadn't really seen anything like it, and platonic OC & Canon Character fics as a whole rarely see any popularity, but I wrote it with my whole chest and surprisingly it resonated with a lot of people. That happened with Brimbrond (there were like, I think three people who shipped it at the time I started writing Partake), and now with my Zhongli x Baizhu fics, Genshin is such a large fandom and it is such a rarepair. Zhongli is attached to one of the most popular fics in the fandom and Baizhu is simply rarely ever written about. But I love them. And I feel that way about Dehya and Baizhu, too, and plan on writing stuff for them and making art.

Truly the only way to get past this is to write what you love. You don't even have to post it. Write what you want to read. It helps if you can find even one other person who ships the ship and likes your work, and the two of you can scream about it together. I know it really sucks when it feels like no one's reading your work. I've had flop fics myself, and it happens especially with art since people just don't reblog as much as they used to. It can be really discouraging. But you have to do it for you.

If it's really bothering you, then maybe take a step back and just don't post anything. You don't have to post it at all. Write it without posting. Let it be Bad, even. Put your whole chest into it, write whatever tropes you want, skip around. If you're bored then don't write it. If you aren't having fun, don't write it. Skip all the uninteresting parts and just write the shippy nonsense you want to read.

I guess what I keep wanting to say and keep repeating ad nauseam is that you really, really cannot be writing for others. Again, believe me, I know it's disheartening when something flops and you feel like no one wants to read your work, but that's where you have to decide that you're going to write for you.

And if you're burnt out and absolutely nothing is fun, then take a step back and just read. Like, fanfic sure, but I mean a physical book. It'll exfoliate your brain. Read for fun. If you aren't enjoying the book then don't be afraid to DNF it. Play a good story-based video game if that's your thing. Watch a show or a movie and really pay attention to it. When I'm lacking inspiration and everything Feels Bad sometimes I just need to get some input. As it was described to me years ago: your writing brain is like a well. You have to pour good stuff into it. Nothing is written in a vacuum, and if you're struggling to make anything come out it may be because your well is empty, and you just need to top it up a bit.

Anyway, yeah. Enjoy some good fiction. Kill the critic inside your head. Write for you. I am pretty much terrified 100% of the time when I am writing and posting that it won't be good, it'll flop, no one will like it, etc. etc. But you absolutely cannot let that paralyze you into not creating. Don't let the critic in your head win. Tell yourself it doesn't have to be good. Repeat that over and over. It's okay if it's bad. It's okay if it's bad. No one even has to see it.

Plus, when it comes to rough drafts --- accept that it is going to be bad. You are just shoveling sand into a box to build castles with later.

If you want to post, please try to remember that it is a gift to the community. It is a privilege that we get to read other people's work. For FREE. For FUN. And make friends doing it! You do not owe anyone anything. At risk of sounding like a broken record: please, please, please write for you and no one else. If you choose to share it that is up to you, and the rest of us say fucking thank you. The inner critic never goes away. That fear never goes away. I'm so serious. But it's fake. It's so fake. It doesn't matter. Imagine it in a silly, stupid little voice (mine sounds like a whiny kylo ren or sometimes like Donald Trump, and then it's easy to dispel). Tell it to shut up. If it's like 'this is awful' then say 'that's okay. I'm having fun', and if it's like 'no one will read it,' then say 'that's okay, i'm writing it for me,' and then write what you want to write, because you like it and want to read it. Fuck it you ball.

[sangijazz]

Love MegaBytes - a LoveBug AU Stanley x shadow!Narrator fanfic

Chapter 5

----

Notes:

- Content Warnings:

- Viral Corruption;

- Gaslighting and Emotional Manipulation (by both parties);

- Obsessive Behavior;

- Unhealthy Possessive Behavior;

I don’t think that the contents of this chapter are heavy and/or explicit enough to warrant the skip-summary treatment, I hope I’m right, I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.

And I also apologize in advance if my depiction of sign language is wrong, feel free to correct me.

—

General Notes:

They /them pronouns for the Timekeeper;

They/them pronouns for the Bucket;

I made a little playlist for you, my dears, with songs that I listen to when writing Love MegaBytes (and in general really)

Here

I like stalker songs, there are some odd ones there but they are my Stannarrator songs. I accept recommendations for new songs for the playlist!

Some typos in the dialog are intentional.

I hope the zalgo is readable ;p but if it isn’t there is a transcript at the end of the chapter.

Enjoy~

----

In recollection, resetting might have been a bad idea, but everyone knew it was the only chance. Pink, pulsating, vein-like ruptures assaulted his opening eyes, it was on, in, everything, and everywhere . The ominous throbbing rose light coming out of them was the only thing illuminating the place. Stanley could see from his trapped position, chunks of the wall were missing, much like that little hole that began this all, the headache-inducing green binary he remembered, now laid bare and broken now too with that pink color, they were also bare, his drawings, all gone, stolen? Eaten? Were more things missing?!

Desperately, he darted his gaze to his hand, checking for that same corruption in himself. There was nothing, his model looked untouched.

“O̴k̵a̸y̴,̷ ̵S̸t̴_n̴l̷e̷y̷ ̵d̶e̵a̵r̸.̴ ̶L̷e̷t̴’̶s̵ ̸s̶t̷a̷_t̶ ̸t̴h̷i̷s̶ ̶a̶g̴_i̸n̸”

The voice that rang through the parable was as familiar as ever, but together with it the maddening glitches worsened, now the words were coming out even more broken, repeating, pieces missing.

Now, again in this paralyzed state, his plan seemed flimsy and not that good, too much like last time, he felt the dread and uncertainty quickly creeping through his coded nerves.  

“T̷r̵y̷ ̴t̴o̶ ̶f̸o̶l̴_w̸ ̷t̴h̷e̶ ̴s̸c̴r̴i̷p̴t̷ ̸t̸h̷i̶s̵ ̵t̸i̴m̸e̸,̶ ̷a̴l̶r̶i̵g̶h̵t̸,̵ ̵d̷_r̵l̵i̴n̸g̵?̴~̶”

The pulse of the light created stark shadows that looked oh-so alive, and all-consuming. The contrasting forces battled for dominance and also worked together to swallow all. 

The Narrator cleared its nonexistent throat, the cue to begin.

“T̵h̵i̶s̴ ̴i̵s̴ ̴a̸ ̷s̴t̴o̶r̷y̸ ̸o̸f̵ ̸a̸n̸ ̸a̷m̴_z̶i̴n̶g̷ ̷m̶a̶n̶ ̴n̵a̴m̷_d̴ ̶S̷t̴a̷_l̶e̶y̵~̸”

Taking the situation into consideration, it would be better to play smart (how he didn’t think of this before is more evidence he wasn’t the smart one), starting to run now would probably be a bad strategy, waiting for a better opportunity closer to the Curator then give chase. Stanley almost felt proud of this one, he prayed it would work.

Surprisingly, the screen of his computer blinked to life, the disparity of its black-gray background and white font against the pink roots covering its surface.

"Hello?!1! 

Is anybody there?!?!1?

What the hell is going on?!!?1?"

[??]   [??]

Is that…

IS  THAT THE TIMEKEEPER?!

Oh, thank the gods, Stanley wasn’t alone! There was another being just as confused and terrified as him. If only he could move he would answer them, send a life signal and assure them they weren’t alone. This made Stanley’s core sprout a wee bit of hope. Were the Narrator and the Parable the only affected?  This could be proven to be beneficial, if everyone else was still sound of mind. The dark being was still talking, but its words weren’t registering correctly, they were almost too mangled to understand.

“ –d̵i̸d̷ ̵e̵v̵_r̸y̶ ̵d̶a̸y̸ ̴o̴f̷ ̸e̸v̴e̷r̷y̸ ̴m̵o̸n̷_h̵–”

 The second he was allowed to move, he would find a way to click a button as an answer, for the Timekeeper’s sake.

Stanley took a deep breath, ‘siking himself up to put up to the task of pretending he wasn’t scared shitless. His body shook with fear, as the Narrator got near the end of the introduction. Keep it steady, Stanley. He had a task to do.

“S̷o̷ ̶w̷i̴t̸h̶ ̶a̵ ̶s̴_i̴l̸e̶,̸ ̷h̵e̷ ̵g̶o̶t̸ ̸u̷p̵ ̸f̵r̵o̵m̵ ̷h̵i̶s̸ ̸d̶e̴_k̵ ̸a̶n̸d̴ ̷s̶t̵e̴p̸p̶e̶d̶ ̶o̷u̸t̶ ̴o̵f̶ ̶h̵i̵s̵ ̸o̸f̵f̷_c̴e̵.̴”

As soon the engine read and loaded the line that gave him movement, he let his hands fall, purposely letting them hit the keyboard’s key and he hoped it was enough of n answer for them.

Thankfully it was since the effect was instantaneous as more words in white font appeared like they were frantically typed, not caring for spelling.

"Stamley?!?!? Are you okay??! Do you now what th e fuck is going on!?!"

This was unfortunately, that was all he could do – without drawing too much attention or letting the Narrator get impatient – no matter how much he wanted to.  Now, he had to play along, he would ask for forgiveness later.

Before the watcher entity could voice its impatience with threats, the avatar stood up, did his best to crack a smile like it wanted, and made what the narration asked for.

All he could see was in the same state as the 427 office and here made Stanley realize how he missed the low humming of the fluorescent light that was much better than the eldritch and indescribable sound of code falling apart hammering bass inside his head, assaulting his ears. 

All the Office’s usual colors were muted, gray-scaled except for that bright pink, that the vessel swore that he would hate for his whole life, and now he feared his retinas were permanently stained with that shade. His smile threatened to falter.

“O̵h̶!̸ ̵S̶o̶_e̴o̵n̸e̸ ̸i̷s̶ ̵e̶a̴g̶e̶r̶!̷~̶” beamed the Narrator, thankfully not noticing the minor stumble. “N̶o̴w̵,̸ ̷g̵o̷ ̸o̶n̷,̶ ̶l̷o̴v̴e̷,̴ ̷t̸o̵ ̷o̸u̸r̸ ̸f̷a̵v̸o̵r̷i̸t̵e̸ ̸d̸o̴o̷r̷s̷!̴ ̵A̵n̴d̸,̴” the voice dropped to a lower tone “D̷o̷n̴’̷t̵ ̴f̸o̴_g̸e̵t̴ ̴t̸o̸ ̵ f̶o̷l̷l̶o̶w̸ ̷m̶y̸ ̵e̵_e̵r̶y̷ ̵w̸o̷r̴d̷,̶ ̴w̴e̴ ̸b_t̴h̸ ̸w̵a̴n̷t̷ ̶f̴o̵r̶ ̴y̸o̴u̵ ̶t̴o̶ ̵g̶e̵t̵ ̵t̴o̶ ̵t̵h̶e̸ ̷s̸u̷r̵_r̴i̶s̷e̷,̵ ̷r̶i̸g̷h̵t̸,̶ ̵S̵t̸a̷n̶l̷e̶y̶ ̷d̶e̸a̵r̸?̷~̴”

Nodding with fake excitement, Stanley began to carefully take steps forward since the floor also was being eaten, with holes leading to the eternal void where the parable was situated. The computers’ screens shone with errors and random ciphers. Everything was breaking.

In the next room of cubicles, on their usual spot, shone the Bucket in the darkness, untouched by the infection, a beacon of hope. The sight made the man hurry to embrace his old friend, the metallic creature eagerly embracing him too, and reassuring him they were fine. The action generated no comment from the Narrator, thankfully, it had gone unnoticed or seen as unimportant, maybe it was still in the mind set they were still a nonsentient object.

The Bucket asked if he had a plan and he hugged them tighter against his chest and nodded slightly, it was half-baked however it was all he had. They comforted him, assuring him it would work.

“S̵t̷_n̷l̷e̵y̵ ̶n̸e̷v̸e̸r̵ ̷h̴a̵d̷ ̴c̷o̴w̴o̷r̷k̸_r̴s̴ ̶t̴o̸ ̸b̴e̴g̵i̵n̷ ̸w̶i̵t̵h̴,̴ ̷t̶h̷e̴ ̶O̵f̵f̵i̵c̵e̶ ̸w̶_s̸ ̵o̶n̷l̸y̶ ̶f̶o̴r̵ ̴h̵i̸m̵ ̸a̸n̸d̴ ̷t̴h̷e̵ ̵N̵a̷r̸r̷a̸t̴_r̸.̸ ̴N̸o̶ ̴o̶n̵e̶ ̸t̴o̴ ̶t̷a̸k̶e̵ ̸f̸r̴_m̴ ̵e̷a̵c̷h̷ ̷o̷t̴h̴e̷r̴.̶"

The collision was still active, the Bucket told him as they saw Stanley hesitate next to a big hole in the hallway, he wouldn’t fall. 

“H̸_v̸e̵ ̴I̶ ̴e̶v̴e̸r̵ ̸t̶o̴l̵d̸ ̷y̶o̵u̵ ̴h̶o̵w̵ ̷m̴_c̵h̷ ̵I̸ ̷l̴o̶v̷e̵ ̵y̶o̵u̸?̴ ̴Y̷o̶u̷ ̵a̴r̷e̶ ̶s̸o̵ ̶p̵r̸_c̸i̶o̴u̷s̵ ̷t̷o̴ ̵m̵e̴,̶ ̴m̶y̶ ̸l̴i̴t̴t̵l̷e̷ ̴c̶r̷e̸a̴t̸i̴o̴n̵…̵” it seemed to be monologuing not really looking for an answer “W̷i̸t̶h̵o̷u̴t̸ ̸y̷o̵u̸,̶ ̷h̶o̶w̵ ̸c̸o̸u̴l̸d̷ ̵I̶ ̴e̴x̴i̷s̶t̶?̶ ̸W̸i̶t̶h̶o̸_t̷ ̶m̵e̶,̵ ̵w̶h̵o̸ ̶w̴o̷u̴l̴d̷ ̴y̶_u̸ ̵b̸e̷,̵ ̸u̶h̸,̶ ̷m̵y̸ ̸d̴a̶r̷l̸i̶_g̵?̵” it growled, sounding so possessive “M̵i̸n̸e̶,̸ ̴m̶_n̶e̶,̶ ̷m̷i̴_e̸~̴” it spat as the avatar turned the corner like an only-child throwing a fit because they hated to share their toys, but stopped as they got to the next relevant stop on their journey.

Like always, Stanley found himself in front of the two doors. Now, he just needed to go through the left door– 

“W̸h̷e̶n̴,̸ ̵m̷y̶ ̶d̵a̴r̴l̴i̷n̷g̴ ̵S̴t̴a̵n̷l̶e̸y̵,̵ ̸c̵a̸m̴e̴ ̶t̸o̸ ̶a̶ ̸s̵e̷t̴ ̶o̸f̷ ̵t̵w̸o̷ ̴o̵p̵e̸n̴ ̴d̵o̸o̴r̶s̴,̶ ̶h̷e̷ ̵e̵n̸t̴e̸r̸e̷d̵ ̴t̷h̸e̶ ̸d̷o̵o̵r̷ ̶o̵n̶ ̷h̵i̶s̸ ̶r̴i̷g̷h̵t̷ .̷” even with the distortion, the entity had an audible smug smirk.

The vessel’s eyes widen with horror and surprise. That was not good. Not at all. Shit. Stanley didn’t want to begin running right now. Shit. Breathe and think. Think!

 The Narrator laughed with self-satisfaction, it was expecting that surprised reaction from him.

“O̸h̸,̷ ̴I̴ ̶k̴n̶_w̷,̶ ̵d̵e̴a̵r̴!̸~̶ ̸I̶s̶n̶’̸t̵ ̶t̷h̴i̴s̴ ̸e̷x̷c̶i̷t̵_n̸g̶?̸!̸~̵” it beamed with delight “N̸_w̸,̷ ̷I̴ ��k̵n̷o̵w̵ ̵t̵h̶a̶t̴ ̶y̶o̸u̷ ̶l̷o̴v̴e̸ ̵t̵o̵ ̷g̴o̷ ̴a̴g̶_i̶n̸s̸t̵ ̶m̴y̷ ̶n̷a̸r̶r̷_t̸i̶o̷n̵,̸ ̶a̴n̷d̵ ̷a̷s̷ ̷m̵u̶c̷h̵ ̶a̶s̵ ̸I̶ ̸l̵o̷v̸e̴ ̵i̸t̸ ̸w̵h̵_n̶ ̵y̶o̴u̷ ̴a̶r̵e̷ ̸a̶ ̶b̵r̷a̸t̵,̷ ̴I̷ ̸w̸o̶u̷l̵d̵ ̵a̶d̵v̷i̸s̷e̵ ̷y̶o̵u̵ ̸t̴o̴ ̷g̴o̴ ̴t̸h̷r_o̵u̵g̶h̸ ̶t̴h̵e̸ ̶r̵i̶g̸h̵t̵ ̵d̴o̷o̶r̴~̴ ”

A terrified mind raced to find a way out as he slowly stepped forward. He needed to get to the Museum. Shit. Think, think, THI– Ah ha! 

It was awkward to sign with the Bucket but he did it anyway. What if I want to do the Freedom Ending, Narrator? He signed making sure and clear he used its name-sign, the sign for N together with the sign of Story. The entity had never seen it before, he was sure. It was worth a try.

The being made an inquisitive glitched noise “W̵_a̷t̸ ̷w̷a̷s̶ ̸t̵h̷a̸t̴ ̵l̵a̸s̶t̵ ̵s̸i̵g̸n̵,̴ ̴d̵e̴a̴r̸?̴ ̶I̵ ̴h̵a̶_e̴n̵’̷t̶ ̶s̷e̵e̵n̴ ̴i̶t̶ ̷b̷e̷_o̴r̸e̷…̸” good, he got its attention “C̴o̸_l̷d̸ ̷y̷o̴u̶ ̸d̴o̴ ̵i̵t̴ ̴a̴g̷a̴_n̵?̵” so he did “N̸…̵?̴S̷t̴o̸r̷y̵.̴.̶?̷–̵” it gasped, finally getting it “I̶s̸–̶ ̷i̶s̵ ̶t̸h̴a̴t̵ ̵a̷ ̵n̴_m̵e̶-̸s̵i̴g̶n̵?̷!̶ ̸F̷o̵_ ̵m̴e̵?̴!̴ ̷M̷-̷m̴y̷ ̸n̸a̶m̶e̶-̷s̶i̴_n̶?̷” it asked unsure but extremely hopeful and squeaked when Stanely nodded and he couldn’t help but smile at little because, Gods, how cute was its reaction. If it only this was his Narrator.

“O̴h̸,̶ ̴S̷t̴a̸_l̷e̸y̸…̷” the was so much obvious emotion in its voice, the entity was feeling giddy, and he was sure if it had blood it would be blushing furiously, this made the man instantly him feel bad for using something so dear to him to manipulate the only one he loved. The Bucket tried to reassure him that it was necessary, they had to get away. The other will forgive him when it sees reason, they told him. The Narrator giggled dreamily to itself “O̸h̴,̴m̶y̶~̶ ̵H̸o̷w̸-̶h̷_w̵ ̷c̷o̸u̵l̸d̶ ̷I̸ ̵r̸e̶_u̸s̶e̸ ̵t̸h̵a̶t̸ ̷w̴_s̶h̴ ̸a̶f̷t̵e̷r̷ ̶t̸h̶a̶t̵?̵!̴” it exclaimed “I̷ ̵w̵o̴u̶_d̶ ̷b̶e̴ ̴v̶e̴r̸y̸ ̶h̴a̵_p̷y̵ ̷t̶o̸ ̸g̷o̸ ̵t̸h̴r̵_u̸g̵h̷ ̵t̸h̵e̶ ̶F̵r̴e̵_d̷o̵m̶ ̵E̸n̸d̴i̸n̸g̸ ̵w̵i̶t̴h̵ ̶y̴o̶u̸~̴”

Stanley smiled at the defective ceiling, at it. The cleaning-throat sound effect played.

“W̶_e̵n̸,̸ ̸m̶y̸ ̷d̷a̵r̵l̵i̶n̴g̴ ̵S̸t̷a̵_l̸e̵y̶,̴ ̷c̵a̴m̴e̸ ̶t̵o̸ ̸a̷ ̷s̷e̷t̵ ̷o̴f̶ ̶t̴w̸o̸ ̴o̵p̶e̷n̴ ̶d̴o̸o̴r̸s̴,̷ ̷h̴e̴ ̶e̶_t̴e̶r̸e̷d̵ ̴t̶h̴e̴ ̷d̸o̸o̶r̵ ̴o̶n̶ ̷h̷i̶s̶ ̷l̶_f̴t̴.̴”

Relief filled the duo as Stanley stepped through the left door.

----

Transcript:

“Okay, Stanley dear. Let’s start this again.”

"Try to follow the script this time, alright, darling?~"

“This is a story of an amazing man named Stanley~”

“ –did every day of every month–”

“So with a smile, he got up from his desk and stepped out of his office.”

“Oh! Someone is eager!~”

“Now, go on, love, to our favorie doors! And,” 

”Don’t forget to follow my every word , we both want for you to get to the surprise, right, Stanley dear?~” 

“Stanley never had coworkers to begin with, the Office was only for him and the Narrator. No one to take from each other.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you? You are so precious to me, my little creation…”

“Without you, how could I exist? Without me, who would you be, uh, my darling?” 

“Mine, mine, mine!”

“When, my darling Stanley, came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his right.” 

“Oh, I know, dear!~ Isn’t this exciting?!~”

“Now, I know that you love to go against my narration, and as much as I love it when you are a brat, I would advise you to go through the right door~ ”

“What was that last sign, dear? I haven’t seen it before…”

“Could you do it again?”

“N…?Story..?–”

“Is– is that a name-sign?! For me?! M-my name-sign?”

“Oh, Stanley…”

“Oh,my~ How-how could I refuse that wish after that?!”

“I would be very happy to go through the Freedom Ending with you~”

“When, my darling Stanley, came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his left.“

----

Notes:

Hey there, my darlings! (◍>ᴗ<)ﾉｼ

I missed you all too

My life went to shit for some time (and not the shit that makes you inspired, unfortunately) so I had a massive creative block since then

But here I am again, back to you, my dearest. ( ᐢ˙꒳˙ᐢ )

You can thank the DDos attack on ao3 (and consequently it being down) for getting me to return to writing this fic, due to boredom and fear of spiraling from fanfiction abstinence.

A surprise Timekeeper appearance! And the Bucket too! So happy to see them here! More characters to torture~ o(*>ω<*)o

I'm almost finished with Chapter 6's draft as I write these notes, so I hope it will be posted in three weeks or so but as always, no promises.

I never expected this fic to be more than 3 chapters long but now here we are…

Thankfully, I already know how this is going to go and then end! I won't say much to not spoil it for you all (´⊙ω⊙`) but let's say…

It will be for all tastes and hopes~

Thank you for your comments and kudos, you know how much I appreciate them.

You are all my dears and I love y'all! (*´∀`)~

[sasorikigai]

❛  is there something i should know?  ❜ (modern verse)

🐝  *  ―  𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑮𝑺 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑻𝑯𝑬 80𝑺 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺. || @hexsreality || accepting

💥 || Silence seems futile, as he lets the quieted wind of outside carry him and settle him down somewhere like a lifeless leaf from a withering tree. The tune of his despair, with all its crescendo and decrescendo, may have rendered him exhausted beyond repair, but he finds his absolute, irreplaceable purpose in his profession which gives his life its deepest significance. To dwell in halcyon peace, without the shadow of his past haunting him was all he ever wanted in life, but the ephemerality of such peace becomes futile, as his own volatile, vehement emotions become his own worst enemy.

Hanzo fears he's still violently in love with Harumi; that kind of love which is so terrifying and beautiful. Through his recurring nightmares, he wonders if he has finally hit insanity and created it inside his head all over again. It's painful and shaking and unsettling and striking. It's strangling and suffocating. In an all-consuming urge to hold her so tightly and never let go. Perhaps his love was meant to be so savage and brutal that he wishes to dissect all that has gone wrong as why he could not be at her side, to make sure she lived to see another day. He'd take numerous daggers a thousand times over to his skin and spill his blood, instead of having felt depraved of lacking any sort of human essence - as he'd manifest as a haunted house that would stand in the fine line between life and death.

The old, persistent chaos of the infernal sun within him has visibly subsided and so did the onslaught of its wildness ravaging through him like an undulating flames. It's been a violent, vigorous process; for his eyes encompass the storm that could mourn, pour, and rage until he becomes free. Until the resplendent flames of his sun pierces the thick, stacked layers of clouds. Beneath the tangy smell of blood and the buzz of hospital fluorescent, Hanzo feels the surging embers in his veins, pulsing through his body with every beat of his heart. Beyond the shadow of grief and thick thorns of what used to be such excruciating pain, the undulating fire within him become more invigorating than paralyzing for the first time.

"Sometimes a certain instigation is what manifests as the conductive coal, the fire of my will. For that collective pause of my injury, that staggered step, was actually the footing for my firestorm to hurl out and roar louder," the glinting depth of his amber eyes cloud over, if they were smoldering from within. Now unrestrained, as moments of willful abandonment of his strength and vigor gradually masks his vulnerability, the telltale sickness that used to persist within him. He realizes, Wanda knows about all these silent screams inside of him; all the churning emotions that speak stories of embers and oblivion. All the silent tears and grief that ripped apart his heart and the doubts that had spread through his mind. After all, they were sculpted in similar fashion, with potential to wield such great powers and responsibilities.

With a knowing, piercing gaze, Hanzo erects himself from the comfort and confines of his bed, as internal hearthfire soars and breaks through his epidermis, then begins to encompass his entirety. His gravelled, solemn voice having breached the treacherous path of healing, his awareness of a perfected pyromancy further formulates the urge. It is no longer with sharp teeth and volatile claws, but a tamable creature within him that he could domesticate. "My pain has always been silent and the screams have always been contained, bouncing around my head until they become white noise, but now, I can fathom the everburning embers binding within me, to breathe newfound intensity back into my stagnant life." 💥 ||

[notyixiangs]

i think part of my impatience stems from me feeling like i’m constantly running out of time. i know i technically have so many more years in which i could just slowly and steadily improve as a writer so there’s no reason to be so apprehensive about writing and to feel like i’m always rushing to create my magnum opus (or anything that i do actually end up liking, really). like it’s a lifelong hobby for me and i, logically, know i’ll always be evolving (and when i look at past works i can see improvement!). BUT i also have this irrational belief that i won’t survive past a certain age. it’s like when i was 13 i didn’t think i’d reach 16 and when i reached 16 i didn’t think i’d ever reach 20 and now i’m 21 and i don’t believe i’ll survive past this summer vacation. and even if i did survive, i’d be swamped by university work anyway that i don’t think i’ll have any time or energy to write at all (see: i did not write from january-june because of university). so now it feels like these few liminal months of summer are the only time i have left to create anything of worth at all, and its the only time i have left to improve until i can reach a sort of zenith/apex (in terms of skill) that i can be satisfied with, hence all the fear & the urgency & the rushing. even though i know i can always pick it back up after graduation even if uni makes me too busy, etc., i can’t internalize this fact nor let it ameliorate the anxiety i have

it’s kind of horrific because i’m always terrified that i won’t leave a mark on the world through my writing before i die and that i’ll die knowing nobody gave a fuck about my stuff or that i haven’t been able to share my thoughts in a meaningful way. it’s like—i already kind of have nothing so at least i want to be good at this thing that i love, & i want to change someone’s mode of thought irrevocably the way some of the things i’ve read have mine

i also have this weird thing where i feel like i should have started writing at an earlier age then maybe i’d be on par with people who write better than me but are the same age / even younger but that’s just my brain being stupid again i know

and now i’m terrified to even open google docs because the insecurity paralyzes me and i end up going well i’m just not going to start at all because what if it isnt perfect/up to standard & then i feel bad for not opening docs lol

i mean yeah, writing to me is a continuous process and “being a writer” is a thing that i will carry with me for years and years so i shouldn’t be so fucking worried that i dislike my writing or feel inadequate right now because i know all i have to do is keep going and let it develop over time but also i just really do wish i was a better writer lol and i’m fucking impatient

[yostresswritinggirl]

A String That Binds Him

Within his conscience and subconsciousness, he dangles with the karmic binds that tie him to his bloody deeds. They are black and tight that pulls at his soul towards the dark abyss of madness. Xiao hates those strings, and when another one manifests, he is more than scared.

Pairings -> Xiao x Reader

Word Count -> 1312

Themes -> I dunno either you tell me, short fic

Series -> #Sojourner Specials (600 Followers Event) Exiled's Xiao Manifestation Ritual

Warnings -> It's... not my best, I'm here to manifest

The first manifestation of the signs of a new string happened on the first encounter, when their eyes met his amber ones. Just another mortal lingering by the balcony, he thought to himself, just another mortal. Xiao knew of the human ways in which they desperately cling to divine blessings, to meet the Adepti for a miracle.

But his heart skipped in a painful way and like the wind he was gone within a second.

"Verr, who is that person in the balcony? They're dangerous, why are they allowed here?"

But the agent could only tilt her head at the intonation and he grew ever more frustrated at this mistake. Is the Qixing faulty to let a threat in so easily, more so in his territory? But Verr simply assured that they've done a background check beforehand, that they were no threat at all, just a simple citizen passing by.

But Xiao was restless, and when he looked again, the pain in his chest did not disappear.

Next thing was tantalizing fear enough to paralyze him.

Like a shadow that clings to his form no matter where so long as there is light, such entity lingers behind him unknowingly. When they spoke in which the first he has heard their voice, he froze with his back towards them. The most vulnerable he had been, and a rule he broke in war where one should not turn their back to the opponent.

When they called his name again, Xiao felt the familiar tug of agony before he willed himself to look with a seething glare worthy to vanquish all evil. But they withered under the gaze like a wolf wary of their injured paw when meeting strangers. A sign that they were a lesser being than him and yet the grip around his heart tightens tenfold.

"What are you doing here? Don't you know how dangerous it is around here?"

When they tilt their head to look past his shoulder, he was painfully aware of the massacre of hilichurls behind him, one he had recently vanquished.

"Seems to me that these dangers are taken care of already tho," they offered a smile which looped back down at the edges upon the look of distaste the adepti offered.

Xiao didn't wish to hang around longer than he should, but when they called out to him as he was about to leap off, his body locked again. Unceremoniously he tumbles down forward upon the inertia of his paralyzed leap.

And he knew from behind him that it took the mortal all their willpower not to mock him with the rawest laugh.

After those first two encounters were nothing but restless days of consciousness for the adepti where he longs for the night where such phenomenons would not exist, where he will be alone with his thoughts to ponder over without any other intrusion.

But even then he finds no solace in the voices in his head, even if they were only less painful than the ones he had been experiencing lately.

Their presence created a new binding that straps his soul and it tugs him at directions he cannot seem to predict. His karmic binds wrap around his limbs to fully pull him apart, yet this one wishes to tug him forward against the old binds, and the opposing forces brings him immense pain that gnaws at him 'til dawn.

The next instance of the bind's existence comes in the form of breathlessness. When their light touch found its way to his exposed bicep, the unexpected motion caused his lungs to stutter for a second, the need for air leaving him before he was slammed back by reality.

How he knew it was the mortal without even looking he did not know, as he was too busy scrambling away as if their touch was seering hot. Xiao's glare was unfocused as he willed himself manually to breath in and breath out.

"You were spacing out," he seems to be doing that lately, "I've been calling for you but you wouldn't budge." Did he really not hear them? "A-Are you okay, can you breath properly?"

No.

No, he doesn't know why he's having the trouble in the first place. The Yaksha lays himself vulnerable in front of them as his heart beats loudly and furiously at the loss of oxygen, it was a manifestation of one of the 'attacks' that shouldn't come this early unless provoked.

Before he knows it, they too invaded his being in the form of soft rubs to his back and whispers of increasing numbers. He follows suit in their guidance even with a few hiccups and soon enough his breathing stabilizes, his heart still trying to follow the calmness of it.

Did I scare you?

No.

I'm sorry.

There's no need to be.

The Yaksha's heart rested for a full second but the detail was missed when Xiao saw the pure pity in their eyes.

No, this person was no Adepti, no demon, no God, no other being. Only a mortal, a human with a soul that shall wither away too. The thought seemed to pull that stray string once again.

The third- or was it fourth? Counting didn't matter now that he was too far gone, but the next manifestation felt more worrying than the others as it was a sign he was not at all accustomed to. It made no sense, it was windy that day at the balcony and the sun barely peeked in past the horizon as it starts to sink for the cold night's entrance.

And they were there to obscure the sunlight that tries to reach him. Hovering over the railing that overlooks the marsh, his gaze caught their side profile as strands of hair falls from the fray, little rays passing through the curtain of the hair that frames their face.

It didn't make sense. No sense at all. And yet he was there to be another mess when he felt the burning sensation wash over his thinly clothed form.

There was nothing special about this human, no Vision exists to force such temperal reaction from him but it. still. happened.

And when they turned to look at him, Xiao dared look away pointedly as the trance of warmth messed more with his thoughts, the change in body temperature reaching his head in a faster pace. He is overheating and so he excuses himself as he disappears, the only sign of Xiao's whereabouts was the distant loud splash somewhere by the marsh.

The mortal choked at the image the plunge brought.

Finally one faithful day, Xiao confronted such merciless feelings to the only mortal he trusts the most. And he found Boss Verr grinning lightly, mischievously. Carrying behind it a secret he doesn't know.

"Dear Adepti, what you are feeling are what we humans call infatuation. Love sickness, even." He dons himself an apalled expression and it takes the woman all willpower not to crack up.

This heinous manifestations of agony are akin to that of human affection? Of romantic disease? If this is what humans deal with naturally, why do they commit themselves at such masochistic indulgences?

So warily he asked, how does one remove such emotions? If it were truly humane feelings that he harbours, then humane means can easily vanquish it unlike the binds holding him down. Speaking of, they've been very tame lately-

Under the guidance of Verr's simple advice of 'being honest with your feelings', Xiao diligently awaits for the mortal in the balcony. And when they finally showed up, he blurts out the worries he had to deal with since the moment they came to his life, loudly enough for a floor lower to hear his confession.

"You terrify me."

This was followed by the frantic steps of a sprinting Verr who desperately tries to make damage control.

A lil drabble hehe, first time trying third person pov bruuuuh

@kookieyachi @struggljng @bunniesrorange @anormalguyreader @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre

[local-ground-apple]

Hello! IDK if this has been asked, but... How would the dormitory leaders react when they and s/o got the main roles for the annual theater play? And it's romance with the kissing at the end of the play~ ❤

I can totally see Vil being so into this! Thank you for your request~~! ❤

🥀 for sure Cater will be in the first row filming the whole play and zooming on kissing scene and then sending it to literally everyone (rip Cater Diamond, you will be remembered)

🥀 Riddle simply turns into red, flustered ball on emotions. Which you think it’s kind of cute. It will take a lot of time to convince him to actually agree and prepare for the role, 

🥀 at first he’s completely against whole idea. Sure, he is flattered and proud of himself (and you) for getting a role in the annual theater play, but deep down Riddle is insecure. He’s not sure whether he can portray the character right,

🥀 oh and the mere thought of kissing you in front of whole school makes his already rosy cheeks even redder than usual,

🥀 so you two end up practising mostly the kiss, cause each time your lips linger a bit closer to his, Riddle’s cheeks flush rosy color and his whole form melts,

🥀 which you think it’s cute, but you both know that absolutely cannot happen on the stage

🥀 and yes, Cater coos how cute you both are and offers some acting tips,

🦁 the annual theater play, huh? Certainly not interested, would muttered Leona while turning on his back to continue his nap peacefully,

,,Y’know, it would be a real shame if Malleus got the role of the prince” “yhm, I don’t care” “there’s a kissing scene, y’know?” “WHAT, THIS IS MY ROLE”

🦁 absolutely doesn’t mind kissing scene, instead Leona insists on practicing it few times. To make sure it’s perfect, as he would playfully say, 

,,We can’t practice this one scene all over again. Did you even learn the script?” “We have a script?”

🦁 you and Ruggie has to literally drag his lazy ass to rehearsals, since Leona wouldn’t even bother attending them,

🦁 surprisingly, he’s amazing on the stage (when he actually puts some effort in his acting). Needless to say, he did steal the show,

🦁 how Leona managed to learn his parts and actually steal the whole show is still a mystery to you and Ruggie

🦁  little did you know, that he actually practiced in secret, without telling anyone as if he wanted to keep up his “cool aura”

🐙 wishes you all best, but he politely refuses to take part in the play. Even your pleading, puppy eyes aren’t sufficient to convince him. However, dating Azul taught you one thing – everything is possible if you know person’s deepest secrets

🐙 so you blackmailed him with slight help from Jade (Floyd won’t ever shut up about this),

���Azul has never ever in his octopus life felt that stunned. The way his eyes widen when you presented the conditions, was almost hilarious to you,

🐙 you enjoyed this way too much,

🐙probably one of the few who actually learned the whole script and practiced it every evening before going to bed. Once Azul sees that there’s no turning back, he will do everything to thoroughly prepare himself and steal the show,

🐙 insists on you two practicing after lessons and you happily oblige,

🐙 Azul denied the role at first, because he was simply insecure and anxious. The mere thought of kissing you in front of whole school where the eyes of every student will be all over you two, is simply paralyzing to him. Besides, he has a certain image of callous and meticulous businessman to maintain,

🐙 he will definitely get nervous few minutes before the start of the play. Azul’s heart will be racing, while he would be sweating and heavily breathing, but the moment your hands gently cup his face and your sweet words leave your lips, his body slowly begins to relax, 

,,Don’t be so anxious, we had practiced it. It’s gonna be alright” “Y/N, I think we should practice this kissing scene one more time”

🦂 when you two got main roles in the annual school musical, you both were on cloud nine. Literally. Jamil had to listen to you both fangirling over it for almost a whole night, 

🦂 Kalim is extremely, extremely, extremely excited and he’s beaming with happiness. He defintely thinks you’re both are made for the roles and he will put his heart into acting, singing and dancing, 

🦂 well, the preparations may be a tad bit sloppy, yet you both don’t complain. The evenings spent on singing nice tunes, learning lyrics together, practicing choreographies and finally acting out few scenes is very enjoyable to Kalim (and of course you), 

🦂 Kalim is rather giddy about kissing scene. Well, he certainly doesn’t mind it! No, no, he’s actually more than happy to kiss you in front of whole school. This man knows no shame, 

🦂 rehearsals are chaotic. Well, the rehearsals your duo does, at least. During practices with the rest of students and teacher, suddenly you two are dead serious and focused on getting the notes and script right, 

🦂 the duality sometimes scares Jamil, 

💜 did someone say theatre play? Main roles? And on top of it kissing scene? And the male lead is not some sexy vilian? Vil is ceratinly in,

💜 he knows exactly what he’s doing and what you’re supposed to do. After all, his acting skills are simply splendid. Vil is more than eager to help you out, 

💜 you two practice the script a LOT, acting out every single scene multiple times, just so you can ace it. He is rather strict as a partner/acting teacher, but you are aware that Vil just wants to make sure everything will be perfect and you will present yourself as best as you can,

💜 you find Vil’s advices extremely helpful and after a while you begin feel confident in your newly acquired skills, 

💜he is not nervous before kissing scene, bah, he brushes it off as if it was something normal or regular in his life. Meanwhile, you are freaking out and screaming internally, 

💜 which makes Vil amused and he may tease you a LOT, insisting to practice the kissing scene. His lips will playfully brush against yours for a brief second, before he pulls away with a smirk, while you can only pout and die from feels, 

🖤 panic mode 10000000000. Idia is absolutely terrified when you tell him the “good news”,

🖤 give him literally 5 minutes and he will have his suitcase packed, booked flight to “Nope-land” and would be on his merry way. Idia is screaming internally as that’s something definitely out of his comfort zone,

🖤 he absolutely hates speaking before a big public, yet alone acting and the mere thought of having a kissing scene with you is more than enough to give him a heart attack. He certainly doesn’t want to disappoint you, since you’re so excited to take part in school play with him, yet it’s a matter of time before Idia politely refuses,

🖤 you don’t push him though – you do respect his boundaries,

🖤 however, when Idia proposes to either clone or create a hologram of himself for the play, you are just speechless and it’s your turn to politely refuse,

🖤 as much as Idia hates the mere thought of you kissing someone else, he won’t change his mind (he may suggest Vil to play the other main character tho)

🐲 Malleus is stunned and speechless the moment you tell him that you both got the main roles,

🐲 he’s even more stunned and speechless when you shyly mutter that it will involve the kissing scene,

🐲 Malleus has never really taken part in theatre play, yet alone displayed his affection (or more like affection of his character) for you in front of such crowd. Obviously, he hesitates, but your excited tone of voice and eyes filled with pure happiness were enough to convince him,

🐲 Malleus takes his role rather seriously and he prepares himself thoroughly – he knows the whole script by heart and could describe every detail of random scene in the middle of the night,

🐲 you are definitely more nervous than Malleus before kissing scene. He seems as stoic and collected as always, while you may be screaming internally,

,,I think we should practice this scene more” “I have kissed you more than 10 times already, darling. I may start thinking that this is just a mere excuse for you to kiss me, huh?” “That’s…that’s…THAT’S certainly not true Malleus!”

🐲 guaranteed that Lilia will be in the first row with a camera, while Sebek will be taking ton of pictures (and yeah, Silver is asleep per usual). “You’re doing great, sweetie” along with “Waka-sama hype man”  will be a perfect addition to the theatre play,

[redrosesartcabin]

Kenji x first perspective female reader:

Things happened

—————————————————

(Hey, how is it going peeps! This was requested by @xxno-0xx . I hope you all, and especially the requester, like it. Only one warning: It involves some swearing, so if you don’t like that don’t read. If the requester doesn’t like it, please tell me and I’ll edit the story! Also: The story plays somewhere either between season 2 and 3, or somewhere around season 3. Though not in a canonical episode)

It’s crazy how things sometimes happen.

A very vague description, I know, but it’s the only way I can convey how I feel.

Things happened that made me have the opportunity to go to Jurassic Worlds Camp Cretaceous.

We had won the league as the best female Baseball team, with the price being -besides the typical golden trophy and some media glory- a trip to Camp Cretaceous for one of us. And as the team leader, I was chosen as the one who can go.

“Oh no it’s fine!”, I had said. I already had a funny feeling about the trip. But they all had insisted, “it’s fine”, they had said, “it’ll be cool” they said.

Oh and weren’t they just so right. I am super peachy.

Practically prancing through the jungle and killing Dinos with my little finger-

Ok that’s enough, I think y’all got the gist: The shit had hit the fan.

Things happened, that made everyone be gone, and suddenly it was up to us to survive on this pretend Prehistoric nightmare.

At least my beloved baseball bat had survived the fall of the Camp Cretaceous building. After that discovery I didn’t let go of it anymore. I took it everywhere with me, hitting every living being that even dared to breath in my new found friends direction.

Friends… I had never thought, before the evacuation of Jurassic World and all that crazy stuff happened, that I’d ever call any of them that. I hadn’t really found any of them to be friendship material. I love baseball and building things out of wood in my free time and had a dry, sarcastic sense of humor. The only person in the group who had come close to that was Yaz, but she had been so closed off, that I couldn’t really tell before we became a group that fought for their survival. Darius also had been ok, but I was older than him and we didn’t have anything in common, so that checked itself out. Everyone else sort of annoyed me in one way or another. Especially Kenji’s pompous ass. He had appeared very full of himself and just generally narcissistic, or at least painfully self centered and pretentious.

Now imagine how surprised one might be, when one figured I was crushing on the guy.

Let’s just say, that things happened that made me see Kenji in a completely different light.

Turns out he has a good enough sense of humor to catch my drift when I speak “in sarcastic” as he likes to call it. Turns out, he was a loyal and fun friend. Turns out he was just a lonely soul, neglected by a father whose work is more important to him than his own son.

Everything turned out different than it appears about him. He still sometimes annoyed me with his pranks and especially when he wouldn’t shut up about his wealth. The latter however became very apparent as the means to show that he was someone, although he didn’t need to prove that anymore. But of course he would think that’s how people would like him, his father had taught him no better.

The first thing I mentioned somehow makes me love him even more. It annoys me, gets such a rise out of me, that it’s somehow funny again. It gives me a spark and Kenji seemingly seems to enjoy seeing that spark. And him enjoying that spark makes me somehow happy as well. It would start with a cat fight and ended in rigorous laughter.

“Why so serious?”, he would sometimes ask when I’d respond with a glare towards him when he’d steal my bat for what felt like the fifty millionth time.

“You’re getting so creative. I barely saw it coming”, I answered dryly and one could practically see the words alternating between being written in small and big letters.

“Well then you should have no problem finding your sweet baby bat then”, he cooed. Looking deep into his dark brown eyes and almost devilish handsome grin made me both want to punch and kiss him, which may have made me irritable and even madder.

“Finding? Why should I find anything if I have a living and breathing treasure map. Come here!”, I demanded with a creepily sweet grin as I’d walk towards him. Then he’d run, I’d run, we wrestled for a second on the ground only to break into a laughing fit, rolling on the floor, crying tears, resolving this nonsense prank and then getting back to either relaxing or fighting off Dinosaurs… again.

I didn’t think, however, that anything could happen between Kenji and me.

For many a reason, though only two are essential: For one, we were busy surviving, one barely had time to get downtime with the group, yet alone for themselves. Secondly, I didn’t really know, or couldn’t really tell, if he felt the same. Maybe it was my own insecurities coming to light or something, but I just couldn’t really believe it.

Seemed unlikely.

But then things happened.

Kenji and I were on the run from an especially nasty, big Dinosaur. We had been collecting some water in big canisters and wanted to head back to camp when it sneak attacked, unexpectedly.

It snared at us, opening its huge mouth, showing a row of thin, long, sharp teeth.

“Fuck off, you tooth pick mouthed asshole!”, I hissed back at it, flailing my bat at it in panic.

The reason for my irrational action was mainly, that we were stuck between two huge rocks, backed up against another rock with no way out.

Maybe hills or mini-mountain were a better description, but it’s also not important.

All that I could think of was that we were stuck and that little fucker wanted to eat us.

“Calm down, y/n, this isn’t making anything better!”, Kenji tried to reason with me. I was close to shouting some obscenities at him or a dry ‘got a better idea, genius!?’, but this time his dark brown eyes, that often had a mischievous twinkle, calmed me, instead of creating the usual spark. I crawled closer to him as we were pressed to the stone wall.

The Dino however wouldn’t give up. Vehemently, it pressed its ugly snout between the walls, stretching its uncomfortably wet tongue towards us and exhaling a nauseating breath.

I was paralyzed, as I looked at that thing, not knowing what would happen next.

Suddenly, I felt my bat being taken out of my hand. I watched as Kenji took on a fighter stance, the bat positioned over his head, ready for the hit.

“What are you doing! Didn’t you just tell me that we should calm it?”, I asked. He turned around, a frown adorned his face, “I said you should calm down”, is all he answered before he darted towards the animal.

“NO!”, I heard myself scream. I had never heard such a sound come from my throat. It was shrill, loud and all in all I couldn’t recognize myself. I was terrified, even more than when I first caught sight of this beast that had brought us into this situation.

Everything seemed to pass by in slow motion as I saw Kenji swing the bat towards its snout. At first I thought it was over for him as the Dinos mouth opened, the teeth seeming to scrape Kenji’s head, that’s how close it was to him… but then I saw Kenji swinging the bat again, directly hitting its head so that it flew against the stone wall. The beast wailed in pain, seemingly backing up, and just like that, it was gone.

“I… I made it”, Kenji first whispered, before he laughed, repeating, “I made it!”, even louder, jumping into the air and forming a victory fistbump in the air.

“That was awesome! Did you see how- Y/N?”, Kenji’s joy subsided as he looked into my angered expression. With a swift motion I took my bat back, glaring at him as I pressed out, between gritted teeth “let’s just go, hero”

Kenji seemed to have caught the sarcastic undertone of me calling him a hero, because I could physically feel his mood shift closer to mine, “hey what’s with that attitude? I just saved our lives!”

“By doing what I also wanted to do. Great!”

“You were panicking! I don’t know if you would’ve gotten a good hit by panicking. Besides, I couldn’t risk you getting hurt!”, he explained.

For a second I could feel my heart flutter, but that didn’t help my opinion on what just happened.

“But you were ready to risk yourself?”, I asked, my tone bitter.

“Why are you so mad?”, he asked, “we are safe, what more could you want?”,

“I-“, I stopped in my tracks, thinking. Yeah: What was I so mad about? He was right, I had panicked. Panic never helps with concentration and right decision making. I found it impressive, that he had the courage and the focus to fight the Dino off. But I just couldn’t fight off the thought of it going wrong. What if he would’ve been eaten?

“What-“, I wanted to repeat what I had been thinking, but could feel a hiccup, breaking the tear flood inside me. No- I was not going to cry. I took a deep breath, looking directly into his confused visage, “- what if it would’ve gone wrong, I’m just… I- I wouldn’t have known what to do without you. I can’t imagine being without you anymore”.

I saw and heard him gasp, his glance unfreezing from his confused state.

“I didn’t realize I was that important to you”, he answered.

I chuckled, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes, “everyone is important to me from the group, I wouldn’t have liked any of them to risk their lives for me but- but especially not you. I- I can’t believe I’m going to say this - I had vowed to take this to my grave ya know-“

“- Get to the point”, Kenji urged me.( I wasn’t looking at him, but he later told me he had smiled whilst saying it, I however thought he was getting annoyed and was almost too scared to continue. Stupid how that sometimes works)

“- I, eh- I’m in love with you I think. Or at least I definitely feel very strongly for you”, I confessed, “there! Now you have something to use against me. Finally got something you can laugh at again on this miserable Isla-mpf”, my self deprecating monologue was interrupted by soft lips catching mine. It almost took my breath away, but then I leaned in, still not believing this was happening, though it definitely was.

“I’m not going to laugh, I love you too. I wouldn’t be stupid enough to risk everything if I didn’t”

“That’s cheesy, but I appreciate the honesty”, I said, wearing my usual shit eating grin as I regained confidence back.

“Oh look who's talking now”

“Oh shut it!”, I laughed and just like that, I found myself kissing him again.

“And here I thought I had to worry, but you two just ran away to make out”, I suddenly heard Darius in the background, half serious, half amused by the moment he found us in.

I quickly broke away from Kenji, grinning sheepishly, “You know how it is Darius: You get chased by a Dino, and then you need a kiss to make the boo boo go away… just so happens I got a bit of a chap on my lips, and Kenji wanted to make it real good again”, I explained, earning a silent chuckle from Kenji.

Darius rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hold back a smile either, “let’s get you love birds home”

————————

And so things happened. Did we have much time to enjoy us being a couple? Not really.

Did more things happen, making everything crazier and tougher?

Did the rift between Darius and Kenji make me anxious as I was sitting by Kenji’s side, as he, with an expression that was too serious for my liking, drove the yacht?

Absolutely.

But I know, that at least he’s by my side still, as am I, and we will make things happen so that we can finally be free from this place.

Hopefully, we’ll make it.

Depends on what the Dino on the yacht has to say about it...

[grimoireofwritings]

Hi! Could i get a nsfw scenario where William masturbates for one night thinking about his fem s/o?

.......

So here's me, casually appearing randomly from the void to finally post this months later 0_0

I'm so sorry y'all, mental health has been in the gutter lately and suffering from major heart and brain damage at age 21 is just not a fun gig. Nonetheless, I hope this was worth the wait, you thirsty hoes >.<

Warnings: smut, light femdom ( I headcanon William with a lean towards sub )

Scenario: William's female s/o walks in on him jerking off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Guilt.

It was all William could really feel in that moment. Well, aside from a general, looming sensation that had been plaguing the poor gentleman for a while now. It made his stomach all fluttery and nauseous with two completely contradicting urges... Which didn't result in a good state to rest in, as he lay propped up on his simple bedroom mattress. It had even prevented him from getting proper sleep lately. One such part of the equation was his complete and utter shame, which replayed punishing thoughts in his mind on repeat... Mentally battling with himself on how wrong it was to think such filthy things about a woman so pure and angelic. A body like that, he could easily imagine it sculpted from marble like the most honored and beautiful of Goddesses in ancient times. Every curve, and the warmth of that soft skin that he could dream of... How could he ever imagine desecrating it? Dirtying it, and perhaps staining it with his intent?

Apparently he could, and he did... Quite frequently. Such horrendously ungentlemanly thoughts popping into his mind had him mortified with himself.

For this reason, he kept his uncontrollably growing desires a secret from his partner. It seemed to him that she was comfortable with their current level of intimacy in their relationship, therefore.. he would remain quiet and allow her to call the shots. It had always been this way, with him considering himself lucky to have her in his life at all, what with a face like his... As well as his history. So he kept quiet, allowing her to make all the first moves so as to not make her uncomfortable. Despite the longing and craving he had for her, and the shame it brought him, he would suppress every last desire, and would never utter a word or clue about it.

It was getting harder however, every passing day. More and more challenging not to notice the lump in his throat when he had to refrain from staring at certain parts of her in particular outfits, and keep his hands from wandering over the perfectly smooth plains of her thighs, or even passionately gripping on to those breasts that took his breath away.

He gave a slight audible whine, there in his bed, tortured by these thoughts popping up once again.. because once they started, they couldn't stop. This time around for some reason it was particularly agonizing to ignore the growing need in his pajama pants, which was legitimately painful to disregard at this point. He'd end up sweating, palms gripping on to the sheets, as he refused to touch himself to the thought of her. Absolutely not... Never.. he could never be so degrading and perverted towards someone who deserved only the highest respect.

Even as he told himself this for the millionth time, the words had been losing their influence that week, and it was at that moment that he caved, giving a strangled whimper of regret whilst his right hand crept under his waistband. From that point on his vision went blurred and brimmed with red, framing pictures in his mind that could only consist of her.

And goodness was that woman breathtaking. He somehow felt starved for a touch he'd never quite experienced before with her... A deep craving as he could practically feel those lips of hers, divine and smooth like rose petals, grazing over his sensitive neck. Would she perhaps moan his name out softly into his ear, as his hands wrapped around her rear to slip a finger between her wetted and ready slit? Yes... Not only could William picture it, but he could almost feel it, too.

Hands, on her velvet skin, squeezing and caressing here and there.. her labored breaths brushing past his cheeks. By this point William had thoughtlessly worked up the courage to start stroking himself, his movements terrified and shaky, slow but gradual. The tortured man could not help himself.. he really couldn't. Despite the fact that he felt like an atrocious person, that previously sick feeling in his stomach was being replaced by mind splitting pleasure.

Warmth.. so much warmth he was feeling down there, in fact it was warm enough now that it was exactly what he imagined her hot, inviting mouth would feel like. This time he let out a soft but much more discernable moan, a couple of lost syllables and stutters rolling off of his lips as he imagined her tongue massaging in place of where his fingers currently were. He vaguely had a couple of thoughts warning him he should stop soon... She'd be back in their shared room any moment now, after finishing up her nightly chores around the headquarters. But he was way too far gone, and foggy in the brain, to give a damn and have the self control to even do so.

Not to mention, the slightest surfacing of precum wasn't helping, given that it added a slight lubricant to the situation and really solidified the illusion in his mind he'd created for himself. His greatest fantasy would be to have her ride him, perhaps..

Absolutely. Just her, in all of her glory, above him and in her rightful place where he could worship and adore from below. The image alone of her hair framing an expression of ecstacy like a curtain, eyes hazy with pleasure all because of him, whilst he allowed his hands to boundlessly wander over every surface of her divinity.. maybe his lips would latch on to her skin and travel down to a breast, all the while drowning in her sounds.. it was enough to drive him mad in the most beautiful way possible.

By that point, poor William Vangeance was too far gone to even notice the barely audible creaking of the door whilst his girlfriend stepped inside their now shared room. A slur of pathetic, whiney mumblings and moans were leaking out into the air for her to hear in utter shock, as well as her name whispered breathlessly to confirm that he was, in fact, masturbating while thinking of her.

"William? What are you doing?"

It was about as sudden as flipping off a light switch. Light to dark in an instant.. except this time it was his voice and his movements. In the dim room, the only light source being a small candle which cast an orange glow on his face, she could make out a look of complete panic, his entire frame completely paralyzed in his position. Had he gone catatonic?

While she had found the display amusing, she was now distracted, more worried about him than anything else. "Love? Are you alright? This isn't very expected of you.." she trailed off, but before she could finish, William snapped out of his trance, causing her to gasp and glance up at the unexpected tone of his voice.

The poor man could hardly form any coherent words in his next jumbled sentences, sometimes the only noticable parts being things like "I'm so sorry for-" and "I will get my things and go out to the front room couch for the night-" to which his partner was dumbfounded by his amount of panic. In fact, William looked to be on the verge of tears, utterly destraught, much to his partner's worry and dismay. However.. she figured she could easily fix this.

Sauntering over to him, she sat beside him on the bed, placing a finger to his lips in an instant to hush him. Leaning forward to speak directly to him, she could tell he thought he was in for a scolding, but what came next had his jaw practically hanging from its hinges in a gape.

"Touching yourself without me here to take care of your needs? You've got some nerve doing my job for me, Captain William Vangeance. I was surprised you hadn't asked me sooner for favors quite like the ones you were probably just imagining.. but now that I know you've been naughty and doing this in your own time, don't expect any mercy from me tonight. I'll prove to you why I'm far more efficient than your right hand. And I'd better not see this again."

She gave a cheeky smirk, completely digging that expression he was wearing. He 100% never would have guessed such lewd words could ever come out of her, and honestly, it already had his entire body lighting up with heat. That confidence from her.. the domineering and sexy edge to her lips, curled into a dark sneer.. it was all blindingly amplified the moment she straddled over him, looming over his body to speak in a low tone towards his ear. "Are you prepared for me to devour you?" She asked.

This was really doing it for him, and he caved, his pent up desire mixing with his excitement and impatience of the moment... Unable to handle the anticipation. As a result, he resumed, feeling already quite close to an orgasm as he frantically jacked himself off with her weight and presence above him. He just... Couldn't wait anymore. And she was too dazzling, too seductive, much too hypnotizing with those devilish words.

"You have the audacity to continue right after what I just said? Bold move, Captain. Either I underestimated you or you're fucking desperate for me. Which one is it? Care to share with me? If you do, perhaps I will let you off the hook... A bit."

"Y-y/n... P-please! L-let me-"

His begs and pleas were interrupted by a deafening, breathless, gasping cry as he came on the spot, a few whimpers following in a perfect sequence as the white hot pleasure seized violent hold of his body, almost aggressive in nature after having been repressed for so long. Panting, he watched his partner witness his helpless and needy state, almost amplifying the experience to a degree.

She was dead quiet, watching with sharp eyes and an intensity in her stare as he slowly came down from the high, body naturally going limp with exhaustion and his breathing evening out. He chuckled sheepishly then, eyeing her with a noticable hint of anticipation and excitement in his gaze, slightly curious if she'd follow through with her previous promise. "B-better to ask forgiveness than p-permission, right?" He tried meekly, biting his lip at that irresistible smirk returning to her face.

"Incorrect" she stated, which set his nerves aflame yet again.

"See... You're the one who wanted me so bad, aren't you? I honestly had no idea... Especially with how shy you are, I was waiting, but it seems you've made me wait longer than necessary. Not to mention, after directly disobeying me, you owe me a couple rounds. Understood? You'll bear with it like a good boy... And I'll be sure you enjoy it too."

There.. that softer look in her eyes at that last statement, despite how perfectly and wonderfully dominant she was - it made his heart melt. William found it very comforting that he didn't have to take charge right away and that she was naturally the one in charge in such an environment - he spent so much time worrying, being afraid, stressing, overthinking, and telling people what to do... That giving up control to someone he trusted was just a complete relief.

"Yes ma'am," he stated, having gained back some composure. "I'll do my best to endure whatever my goddess intends to give me.. please allow me to touch and praise you."

"Good boy," she cooed, encouraging his words of loyalty, as she slowly lowered herself to gently and sensually take him into her mouth to start off. Almost immediately, a tortured cry of overstimulation escaped him, but at the same time it felt completely euphoric.

It occured to William that one of the best nights of his life was about to take place, so he closed his eyes, and placed a hand down on the head bobbing over him.

~end~

[headinthestaticsky]

Frozen Within the Night Wind: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Chapter 11.

None of the characters in Twilight belong to me, all rights go to Stephenie Meyer.

Authors note:I was reading up on the Newborn Battle and saw that it took place in June... I get that snow storms can happen on mountains but why is everyone else wearing jackets in the battle haha.

"When the mako flies Up from the bottom in your eyes Then I know the twilight skies Are not so broken hearted."

Stylo by, Gorillaz

Today was the day, they would finally arrive ending the constant tension of the inevitable battle. We all stood tense in the field, the wolves were hiding so they weren't immediately sought after.

"Fleur, do you think you could track Riley? We need to know how close he is." Esme asked.

"On it... They aren't to far from here, it'll take them about... 2 minutes before they find us. They're falling for Bella's blood trap quite easily."

"That's good, we don't need them finding her." Carlisle said.

I felt someone grab my hand I turned and looked at them, Jasper was staring back at me.

"We're gonna be fine." He said. I turned my head due to the sound of rustling coming from the far side of the field. I looked back at him and smiled.

"I know we are."

I then saw the crowd coming toward us, they all were yelling. We then began to run toward them as soon as the got close enough both Jasper and I punched two of the vampires heads off. The rest of us had separated at that point as the new born vampires spread out. Two vampires came toward me both of them trying to take out my head. I dunk under them both easily and took out there legs, leaving them defenseless. I then took off both of there heads, another vampire snuck up behind my and grabbed me by the back of my neck, I grabbed both of there hands and flipped them over, crushing there head into the ground and shattering it.

I looked around me and saw Paul with two vampires on his back, I quickly made it toward him. Kicking two other vampires in the process and flipping over another one that was being chased by a wolf before making it to him. I ripped the first one off his body taking it's head clean off with it. Paul had gotten the other one off of him and looked at me quickly before running off again. I ran toward a tree and rock, suspecting someone to be hiding there. My theory proved to be correct, I saw a girl coming out of the little nook.

She looked about 15 years old and scared out of her mind. I stopped myself from attacking her and saw Carlisle and Esme next to me, we were unsure about her.

"Let's leave her here...I really don't think she'll try anything. She looks absolutely terrified." I said Esme and Carlisle nodded. I then ran back toward the fight. I was in the midst of a power struggle with one vampire, my arms, shoulders, sides of my neck, and cheeks began to crack from the pressure. It was unbearable, it was as if a thousand needles were stabbing each individual nerve rendering it useless. Suddenly the pressure was gone and angry amber eyes looked down at the vampire's dismembered body. I healed quickly thankfully and Jasper and I ran off together to defeat the remaining vampires left. They had all been taken out with ease with the exception of a few. Before we both could react a vampire bite Jasper right on the neck, trying to tear apart his skin. Jasper had let out a yell due to the pain and I quickly pushed him off of Jasper, stomping his head in. Emmett and Paul took out the last vampire. When we all dragged them to the middle of the field to burn them I noticed I never saw Riley.

"Hey... did any of you guys run into Riley?"

I saw uncertain faces on the Cullens, which gave me the answer.

I decided to track him, to see if he was still around. I saw him stalking up a mountain, Bella and Edward suddenly came into view.

"Riley... listen to me. Victoria is just using you to distract me. She knows I’ll kill you. In fact, she’ll be glad she didn’t have to deal with you anymore." Edward stated.

Bella looked terrified behind him. I saw Victoria come down a tree landing on a rock covered in snow.

"Don’t listen, Riley. I told you about their mind tricks." Victoria persuaded.

"I can read her mind. So I know what she thinks of you." Edward interjected.

"He's lying."

"She only created you and this army to avenge her true mate, James. That’s the only thing she cares about. Not you."

Riley turned his head to her, and an unsure look was on his pale, deadly face.

Victoria froze, her eyes slightly widened.

"There's only you, you know that!" She said.

Riley then began to walk toward Edward again, Both he and Bella backed up.

"Think about it. You’re from Forks, you know the area. That’s the only reason she chose you. She doesn’t love you."

"Riley, don’t let him do this to us. You know I love you."

Riley turned his head back to Edward a smirk was on his face.

"You're...dead."

I broke out of trance before a fight could break out.

"Guys...They're both with Edward and Bella..."

All of the Cullens's eyes widened with shock.

"Look I got a plan, Dean, you're the second-fastest in the family so you need to get that girl out of here take her back to the house... I have a feeling the Volturi are going to show up and I don't think they'll spare her. I am going to get as close to the fight as I can from the mountains and try to get Victoria to hallucinate again. We don't have any time to waste, MOVE IT!" I demanded before running toward the fight. I could hear Jasper in the distance as I kept running.

"That's my girl..."

As I ran it felt like I was having deja-vu, it reminded me of the ballet studio situation 2 years ago. That same mantra was going through my head. "Please...let me get there in time." No matter how cruel and unkind Bella could be...I couldn't stand the thought of her getting killed by the cold hands of revenge.

Flashback: 4 years ago.

"THAT'S IT... I CAN'T STAND TO BE AROUND YOU TWO ANYMORE!" I yelled at Bella and Renee.

"OH GET OVER YOURSELF, YOU'RE THE ONE ALWAYS CAUSING TROUBLE AROUND HERE!" Renee yelled back.

"Causing trouble....CAUSING TROUBLE? WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO THIS TIME?"

"YOU WATCH YOUR MOUTH YOUNG LADY! I HAVE RAISED YOU FOR 15 YEARS!"

"THAT DOESN'T MAKE YOU A GOOD MOTHER!"

"How dare you..."

"What did I do.... what do I always do? Want love? Reassurance? Someone I can trust? That's not "causing problems"... that's something a parent should give to their child. Oh sorry... both of their children!"

"Well...it's hard to give that to a child you just can't stand. You act just like your father..."

"You say that like it's an insult... my father is an intelligent, compassionate man, I'm glad you left him... I didn't want to see him get abused like me."

Bella just sat back and smirked, enjoying the chaos that was in front of her.

"If you love him so much why don't you go live with him."

"Fine... I will just buy the damn plane ticket and I swear I will never come back here again!"

"I will... Bella will finally be able to get away from your poisonous mind."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes before speaking again.

"Goodbye Renee, I'll see you at my wedding. I know you won't be able to resist showing up, you'll have so much fun at the open bar being the boozer you were meant to be. Your speech will probably be you upchucking on the stage. It'll be a hit with the guest."

Renee and Bella's eyes widened with shock. Renee decided to speak up.

"Like you'll ever get married... no sane person would want to be with a disgraceful woman such as you."

I ignored her, I stopped at Bella and looked at her.

"Isabella... get away from her, you'll end up just as toxic and abusive as she is." I then ran upstairs and started packing my bags... eager to leave.

Flashback: OVER

I ran up the mountain and saw a glimpse of the fight, Victoria and Riley held Edward by the arms and neck. Bella stood there paralyzed in fear. I prayed that this plan would work, I tried creating that image of James again but instead... my body changed turning into him. I stood there for a second shocked before making my way up to them. Victoria froze in fear, Riley looked at her in confusion, and Bella and Edward didn't know what to think.

"J-james... how... how are you here? She isn't here is she?" Victoria asked.

I prayed my voice would've changed along with my appearance before I spoke.

"Who? Fleur... no no no, she's too busy dealing with the army you created with... this pipsqueak. I said, my voice was not of my own.

She dropped Edward, which in return made Edward throw off Riley who was then dragged away by a wolf... it seemed to be Seth.

"VICTORIA!" "VICTORIA HELP!"

Seth pulled him down the slope, I could still hear him scream on the way down. Edward just observed us, pulling Bella behind him again.

"James... you have to understand I did this for us, I thought you were dead. Why didn't you come and find me?"

"I did find you...but then I saw what you were doing, whoring yourself out there after you came back from Texas... persuading that man by kissing him the same way you kissed me. You're disgusting!"

"James no... please don't do this."

"You should know...we began this by me hunting you... you've always been my prey. And now..."

My voice switched back to my own.

"I will take you out the same way I intended to from the beginning."

Her eyes widened but before she could escape I snapped her neck, ripping her head off a few seconds later.

"Whoa..." I heard Bella say meekly.

Edward handed me a lighter he was carrying, I lit it and threw it on her body, it busted into flames. I saw Seth carrying Riley back up, he too was dead. I threw him in the fire too, making sure both of them were taken out.

"Fleur... Carlisle said you could make hallucinations... but you completely morphed into James." Edward said in shock.

"T-that's the first time I have ever done that..."

Before either of us could say anything Edward gasped.

"What is it?" Bella asked.

"Alice needs us to go...NOW!"

[maplecornia]

chapter 31

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 1.26K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne | @rae-bear |@mangminnie | @pixiekooo | @cana | @canarystwin

Opening the door to your apartment, you sigh.

It was a long day. The photoshoot lasted longer than you expected, and you didn't even get a chance to reprint your schedule. It was for the best though, you supposed. Namjoon didn't need you to do much of anything else besides assist him while he set up to get some work done.

Biting your bottom lip, you try not to feel guilty that you left him all alone. He said he needed no distractions, but you pray he doesn't pull an all-nighter. Knowing him, however...Glancing down at your phone, you wince at the week's schedule Mr. Sejin gave to you before leaving. He told you that getting a daily schedule would be tedious, and informed you that weekly schedules would be sent to you every Sunday.

As for this week...

They have hardly any free time, especially Namjoon. Filled to the brim with practices, photoshoots, and interviews...you can't imagine what it'd be like when promotions start. He really shouldn't be pulling all-nighters nowadays, he needs to rest now to prepare for the workload that will come his way.

You scoff.

Who are you kidding? Namjoon won't be likely to do that. He's the type to pour out every last of his waking spirit into his work. Even if you did go back to help, you'd probably be in the way. Not to mention the fact he wouldn't listen to a word you say.

Shaking your head, you wonder if your mother felt the same way when she was raising you.

Studying all night, practicing until your voice was sore or you couldn't dance anymore, pushing yourself to the very limit, preparing for your dream...

Swallowing hard, you push the thought out of your mind.

You don't have time for guilt.

Slipping out of your shoes, you advance, locking the door tightly behind you. In the corner of your mind, you wonder if Sunoh is sleeping already. Glancing at the clock, you roll your eyes. If he wasn't, he'd be crazy.

3 am already?

Reminds you of the times you would write till the wee hours of the morning. Creating countless stories and adventures, different worlds and different people, trying to find a way to escape when you had nowhere else to run. When was the last time you were inspired to even pick up a pencil much less write?

"I hate being alone." You murmur, rubbing your face. "I always think too much."

Setting your satchel on the counter island, you empty its contents and come across the contract. Freezing, you slowly pull it out and stare at it.

This is your dream.

So why are you hesitating?

Taking it to the table, you pull out a chair and carefully set it down.

It couldn't hurt to read through, could it?

You wonder why you are so afraid. What he did wasn't even something to be worried about. But when the one you cherish the most tells you you'll never make it, that you aren't talented enough...

He heard your voice and called it mediocre, amateur, and told you to find a new dream. Told you to give up on something you would never succeed at. Told you everything you worked so hard for was worthless. It was unrealistic, it wasn't worth trying.

You'd never make it anyway.

You weren't nearly as pretty enough to fit their standards.

You weren't perfect enough to pass their expectations.

You weren't made for the dream, so you shouldn't be given the chance to achieve them.

Groaning, you try to swallow the lump in your throat, you try to ignore everything you wish to hold back, but you can't.

How?

How could they see that you were worth something?

Obviously, you aren't worth that much, obviously, you aren't that special...

"Why are you hesitating?"

Remembering what Suga said, you wonder at the question yourself.

This is supposed to be your dream, you are supposed to hold onto it no matter what others tell you. No matter what people may think. It's something that's made to be eternal, that won't give up as long as you don't give up either.

Are you afraid?

"Yes. I'm terrified."

But why are you terrified? Why can't you forget the past?

"What if he's right? What if I'm not cut out for this?"

So are you afraid of what others think?

"No."

Then what is it?

You think of everyone who is counting on you, their high expectations. What they are risking for you. You think of the people who came before you, how hard they tried for this chance, just so they can achieve a dream they may never get. You think of your mother, who lost the very same dream and could never achieve it.

What is holding you back?

"What if I let them down?" you whisper softly, as a tear finally escapes its blockade and lands on the very same contract you've been holding in your hands.

You've dreamed of this. Receiving your first contract and signing with a company, ready to become a trainee, ready to be the singer; the performer you've always wanted. You've imagined the scenario in your head, acted it out many times over and over again. This was supposed to be a happy moment, the moment when all your hard work meant something. The moment when you finally took the next step towards your goal.

Inwardly, you want to scream in joy. You want to cry from happiness. But that fear, that blockade of terror, that is the one thing that holds you back.

What if when you finally let go, when you allow yourself to be happy again, it's ruined?

I gave everything to you.

"Shut up."

But you threw it away.

"Stop."

And for what? A dream that will never find its way out of your head?

"You're not here."

It's worthless hoping for something that can never happen.

"You don't know that."

Do you want to be worthless?

"You don't get to dictate my life."

Biting your lip, turn the final page of the contract, and find the dotted line. A line that will sign your life away. A line that holds every dream, every wish, every hope you've gathered in your small wish to be an idol. To sing on the stage, to perform and touch the world with your music.

Your world.

Finding a pen amongst the confines of your satchel, you put the tip gently to the paper and sign your name.

You smile once you do, and hold your hands to your face.

Letting out a small shriek, you let your excitement take control of your body and you allow the euphoric feeling of happiness to spread throughout you. You push back the feelings of doubt, the paralyzing helplessness of terror. For now, that doesn't matter. At this moment, those feelings aren't important.

Who cares about what's to happen in the future?

Would you rather be held back because of things you can't control?

No, this is your choice. This is your life.

You make the choice, no one else can make it for you.

At the harsh ringer of the phone, you jump. Startled, you turn to it from where it sits on the counter and check the caller ID.

One step at a time right?

That's all it takes to be okay again.

To move on.

Maybe it's time you talked to her.

Setting the pen down, you pick up your phone, taking a deep breath before accepting the call.

"Hi, Mom."

she finally called her mom! question, on a scale of 1-10 how angry would your guys' mom be if you ghosted her for this long? 0.o cuz mine would disown me for the longest time.

chapter 32 here

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[sparetimeimagines]

Trust Me

Todoroki Shōto x Reader

Tags; Angst, Fluff, PTSD, Mentions of Abuse

Send some requests.

Masterlist

“Can I Stay Here Tonight?”

It was a simple question he asked so many years ago. You were fresh out of high school in a raggedy apartment you were less than proud of. It was raining that day. The weather was horrible and showed no signs of letting up, so you felt more than obligated to host the hero. For many years you learned to allow him to accept you into his battered heart. You were both merely kids starting the academy with no idea what this life would hold for you, or the capabilities your powers would hold.

You were both just starting out in the hero world. He was signed to a better company than you were, but that didn’t bother you. His job was far more dangerous than yours was. He was Mr. Icy Hot, while you were merely a healer.

Todoroki felt the need to endlessly remind you of your validity in this world.

“What would I do with myself if you weren’t here?” He’d say like a catchphrase each time he would come to you for aid.

It started simple; a cut on his cheek. A sprained thumb. He would drop by because he learned your schedule.

But then he grew comfortable. That broken arm turned into late night chats with warm beverages and homemade desserts. Those abrasions along his back turned into take out and a movie.

Until one day - one day he kissed you.

It was delicate. His soft lips trembled, touch starved and terrified of the future. He took a chance different from the ones he chose in combat. Because this time he wasn’t risking his skin or bones; he was risking his heart. His emotions. He was risking his trust and years of comforting friendship.

So when you kissed him back, your nurturing fingers grazing his forearms in surprise, he couldn’t help himself. His stomach was doing cartwheels and his heart was leaping for joy. His fragile lips curled into a tiny smile, and he never felt like he wanted something so much in his life. He had never felt the need to protect something and keep it safe more than when he saw you.

Everyday, he would watch you from across the room or from your side and question, “How did I find you?” Or “How, out of everyone in this world, how did you become mine?”

It amazed him every single day that someone so kind, so loving came into his life and chose him. He fell asleep everyday praying to whatever higher up being that you would stay safe, that nothing would ever happen to you. Because to him, you were a Godsend.

It amazed him that someone like you even existed. Because good things didn’t happen to people like him. His own mother who brought him life abused him. He didn’t believe he was capable of being loved.

Admired, of course. But the strangers did not know him. They didn’t know Shoto the person. They knew Shoto the hero. But to be loved... by someone who wanted nothing more than to see him smile... it was unbelievable.

Then he moved in. He wanted to see you everyday. He wanted to know what it was like to hear you breathing at 3:30 in the morning. He wanted to see your sleepy smile at 10:30 at night. He wanted it all. It was more than seeing you when he needed you. It was being there for you when you needed him. He was smitten. Lovestruck.

It was that night, when he finally let his guard down, exposing himself for the first time naked. Not just physically, but mentally. When he took his guard down, letting you see him for who he was, it just the first time in his when he truly felt vulnerable. It was scary, no- terrifying. His heart was in his throat. The moonlight hit you perfectly, enhancing every spot he wanted to kiss, because to him, every part of your being was perfect.

Your body, your mind, your soul.

He wanted to feel your soft skin under his finger tips, to kiss those crevices that never have been exposed to another. He wanted every part of your being.

He was gentle, because he knew what it was like to get hurt -to be broken. He knew right then and there, that no matter what would happen in life, as long as he was breathing, no one was ever going to touch you.

When you shared your breaths and bodies, you shared your mind and soul.

He knew he wanted to be with you forever.

You got a cat. She was white and cute. She curled in his lap after he’d come home from defending your city from a villain. She introduced him to a new side he didn’t know existed. It was a love different from what was familiar with. She awoken the love to nurture. He wasn’t prepared to care for something else who completely depended on him in a different language. That different love made him feel something completely different.

“Let’s have a baby.” His heterochromic eyes suggested with the brightest orbs of hope.

“I beg your pardon?” You choked on your coffee catching reality, it was far too early in the morning for you to be hearing his wild suggestions.

“You heard me. A baby. Wouldn’t it be fun? To raise something just like us? We would make this perfect little hero and they could have both our quirks!” It all spewed from his mouth far too fast for him to realize what he meant.

Then it hit him.

The realization for the first time in his life he sounded like his father, and that terrified him. His eyes grew big and his heart begins beating too fast for him to keep up.

He didn’t want to be his father. He doesn’t want to be an abusive, manipulative evil creature.

He stumbles backwards in shock and collapses in the chair behind him.

His eyes huge, Shoto checked out from reality and into his head, where you felt the need to rescue him.

“Shoto? Darling, are you ok?” You bring your two fingers to his neck, feeling the carotid artery for his pulse.

Immediately he jolts his hand forward, rejecting yours with a fire-fueled burn.

“Don’t you touch me!” He jumps to his feet and bursts into flames on the left side of his body.

It was so uncharacteristic of him; there was no way he was in his right mind. But you didn’t know that for sure, and you weren’t going to be the one targeted again.

“Shoto. Shoto please snap out of it.” You feel tears form in your eyes, overwhelmed from the burn, overwhelmed by the scene.

You cowered on the floor away from his flame he produced.

“Shoto, please.” You pleaded with him, the first tear carving down your cheek. “Shoto, please wake up. Please snap out of it.” He hovers over your body, his face possessed by the trauma of his past. You knew he loved you. You knew he wouldn’t be the one to hurt you intentionally, right?

However, as of this moment, you were terrified.

“Shoto.” You try again, your body paralyzed in fear. “It’s me, Y/n. I need you to come home.” You were desperate. You just wanted him to come to.

And he did.

His flames diffuse, but when he sees you on the ground shaken by terror, his heart crumbles.

Shoto’s knees give in and his eyes turn to sobs whilst they shift from you to his hands and back to your terrified eyes.

“I-I’m a monster.” He chokes in disbelief then notices your blistered hand. “Oh, Love, your hand...” he extends his frosted hand to your aid, however you quiver in fear. “Baby please. Baby, I didn’t... I didn’t mean it. Please Baby. You- you have to believe me.” He sobs on his knees attempting to come closer.

“Shoto... please... just stay there.” You wave him away cautiously with your well hand. “Don’t- don’t come any closer.”

It broke him. The one person he loved more than life itself was begging him to stay away from her.

His lover won’t let him touch her. She won’t let him comfort him when she’s hurt.

He watches her with devastation as she creates distance between them, and that kills him.

This was never supposed to happen. He’s only used his quirk for love. To warm his hand when your stomach aches, to heat the bed when snow falls outside in winter. To bring you warmth when you’re too tired to find a blanket.

But instead, he brought you pain and terror. What kind of monster hurts someone he loves?

Unable to watch you in pain, he bolts out the door. The thought that he was the one that put you in that position made him sick. He had to leave.

You didn’t see him for a week.

The first day was the hardest. You weren’t mad at him. You had time to think, and realize the reason behind his action was fear. Fear had possessed him. Fear had taunted him fro his childhood trauma. The fear that he is hurt and not taking care of himself. The fear that he may never come home. You healed your hand the best you could, but with you being under so much stress, it wasn’t your best work.

The second day, you became more worried. There was no sign of Shoto. No message, no missing clothes or food from the cupboard misplaced. He was completely missing.

Day three you went back to work. The weekend was over, not like heroes got a day off, but you worked with a company like healthcare. Heroes came in and out all day, but not one was your Shoto. No flowers dropped off like he always had. No lunch dates where he would let you have the last strawberry like he always had. No fans gasping in awe at the great hero with red and white hair.

On day four you were beginning to grow used to not seeing him, that is until the news cameras caught him on camera with Deku fighting a villain. Your heart pounded and you felt tears bound in your eyes. You loved to watch Shoto on the television in action. Sure, he worried you, but he always made his way back home to you. But this time, you cried because you were overwhelmed. Overwhelmed because you realized how much you missed him. Overwhelmed by how caught off guard you were seeing him for the first time in days. You choked watching him. He wasn’t on his best performance. He looked distracted, and as much as you wanted to see him, this was not the place nor the reason you desired... right?

Day five came and gone with you flipping through the channels with your cat on your lap, desperately looking for Shoto on every channel, if only to catch a glance. You needed to see him. You just had to see him.

Day six was when you began to feel sick. You were sick from the worry caused from waiting for him. Your stomach couldn’t take it waiting for the news if he’s coming back or not. You needed him to come home.

On day seven, you were exhausted. You hadn’t slept well without him by your side. The way he breathed soothed you. The way his presence filled the left side of the bed made you feel safe. The lack of way he kept the bed warm -like he promised- turned you cold. You just wanted him back.

You a settled on his tshirt with the graphic design. It was simple, but my god it smelt heavenly. His scent locked into the shirt with a purpose and you’d be damned if someone was going to pry it off you.

The power shuts off just after sundown and the home is completely black.

Maybe a car hit a power line.

You couldn’t sleep anyway, not without Shoto, so you decided maybe it would alright for a midnight stroll.

You slipped on your boots and zipped up the first jacket you saw, Shoto’s. It was impossible to let him go.

You grab your cellphone and watch your reflection with the tired eyes as you meet the door.

Though as you reach to turn the handle to leave, the door opens on its own.

Before your eyes with disbelief you see him. Your eyes are blurry and before you can focus them, you feel him.

His embrace; the walls of your castle.

His smell; the fragrance of choice.

His touch; the foundation of your peace.

“I’m so sorry, Love.” He sniffles into your hair. “I left because I was afraid. I didn’t want to hurt you again. I couldn’t handle seeing you like that as a result of my actions.”

He holds you with delicacy, his hands in your hair, cupping you close to his face. He inhales longer than ever. The sweet scent he missed when he was away; his comfort. He feels himself weep, a powerful reaction he swore he has never felt before. He never felt the need to be so close to anyone or anything before. And coming so close to losing you, you couldn’t take the chance again.

“There was a villain. He’s out and the others are after him. But I had to see you. I had to make sure you were safe.” He cups your face. “God, I love you.” He kisses your forehead, bringing you into his chest. You feel tears form in your eyes as he continues. “Seeing you in pain is something I never would have dreamt of. It’s something I never want to see again.” His broken low voice is barely audible, but his lips pressed to yours was everything. “I’m not him. I never want to be him. I want you in my life forever, and I hope one day you will trust me again.” In his hand, he gently reaches for your injured hand ready for another round of healing. “This will never happen again.” He slowly brings them to his lips. “as long as I’m breathing.”

[alisonwritesimagines]

Teddy Bear ~Dabi Imagine~

Summary: You slowly watch your boyfriend become psychotic everyday. You slowly become scared as you realize that there’s no way out. 

Author’s Note: I think this song would fit really well into his character. Also, I have been really into Yandere!Dabi and Yandere!Aizawa lately and I need more fics of them. 

Trigger Warnings: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, a mention of sexual punishment in the end if you like squint really close

Song: Teddy Bear by Melanie Martinez

Stitched you up, put you together With cotton and feather Gave you love, put my heart inside you Oh, what could I do When you started talking in your sleep Saying things you'd do to me I didn't care, I wasn't scared

You didn’t know what you saw in him. Most people would be scared of the patched, fiery man. Not you. You weren’t scared of him. You were just interested in him. 

To you, he seemed so broken. And because you had feelings for him, you did your best to help him. You let him stay with you, you took care of any wounds he may have had from a mission. You would’ve done anything for him. 

The first sign of your troubles began when he started talking in his sleep. You noticed but didn’t say anything to him. You could hear him mumble your name but it wasn’t in a good way. Not even in a pleasurable way. More of a threatening way. 

Now I'm finding knives under the sheets Crumbled photographs of me I'm in despair Should I be scared?

Dabi forced you to move in with him. He told you it was for your own protection. And you believed him. 

“I won’t be gone for long. Don’t leave the apartment,” Dabi ordered.

“Why can’t I leave the apartment?” You asked confused.

“Just don’t. Okay? I am not going to repeat myself,” Dabi growled a little. You nodded quietly as you watched him leave. Out of boredom, you looked around at your new home. You found a small box in one of the drawers that had crumbled and slightly burnt photos of you. You stared in shock and horror as you looked at the photos. 

They were all pictures of you asleep in your bed and some with you changing. The worst part was the dates on the pictures. This happened before you met Dabi. You didn’t know what to do. 

“I’m home,” Dabi called out. Dabi walked over to the room to see you standing there with the photos in your hands. 

“Dabi. What’s this?” You asked quietly. You were shaking out of fear at this point. Nothing he could say could make you feel better. Dabi smirked over at you. 

“They’re nothing,” Dabi shrugged. 

“They don’t look like nothing. These were taken before we met,” you tell him.

“And? What are you going to do about it?” Dabi teased you. He knew that you were quirkless. That’s why he thought you were perfect for him. 

Teddy bear, you were my teddy bear You were comforting and quiet How did love become so violent? Oh, teddy bear, you were my teddy bear Everything was so sweet until you tried to kill me

“I need to leave,” you quietly said. The terrifying thing to you at the moment was how quiet Dabi was. 

You quickly rushed for the front door to get out of the apartment. You didn’t think. You just ran. 

Dabi purposely let you go. He wanted to play a little game. A game to show you that you were his no matter what. He wanted to show you that he was in control of this. Not you. Besides, why not let you have one more taste in freedom before he takes you back to be his forever.

I threw you out, I didn't outgrow you I just didn't know you But now you're back And it's so terrifying how you paralyze me

You wanted to change your identity to leave this city. You wanted to go somewhere where you think you would be safe. However, Dabi knew that he couldn’t let you leave him. Especially since you were his and no one else’s. 

Now you're showing up inside my home Breathing deep into the phone I'm so unprepared, I'm fucking scared

You thought Dabi had forgotten about you after a week of not seeing him. You assumed that he had found some other girl to screw with. The one dreaded thing that you despised the was process on changing your identity so you could leave. 

Dabi decided that a week was too long. He wanted you back into his arms already. He started to play with your fear again by calling you first.

“Hello?” You answered the phone. Dabi didn’t say anything. He was already in the place you were staying at. Of course, you didn’t know that. 

“Hello?” You repeated. All you could hear was soft breathing. 

“Hello, darling,” you thought you had a heart attack as you felt your heart beat uncontrollably. You turned to look at Dabi who stood nearby.

“What do you want with me?” You asked. You could feel your tears fall down your face as you shook in fear.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want what’s mine to come back home.”

“I’m not yours. Not anymore,” you tell him, trying to sound brave.

“Oh really?” Dabi asked as he started to create a light of blue fire out of his hands.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” you begged as you cowered in fear. Dabi smirked over at you. He stopped his fire before shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“Now why would I want to hurt you? You’re my darling after all. And I can prove it to you if you let me,” Dabi tells you as he got closer to you. You couldn’t stop yourself from crying. 

“Now now. No need for tears. If you let me take care of you, I promise I won’t hurt you too bad. Deal?” Dabi asked you. You nodded your head, wanting this nightmare to stop. 

“Good. Now, why don’t you come back home with me so I can show you what happens if you ever run out on me again,” Dabi tells you darkly. 

[cdarkheartzero]

Today’s theme- “Too far”

I was skimming through some comments and such and came across @the-garbage-is-my-fandom ‘s comment of “more horror art” on my “Bathtime” piece. And I was inspired. I’m especially excited for @melodyofthevoid to tear into me like I do her when she abuses my son.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen” Dib chanted to himself choking on what little air his lungs could grasp. He had never known fear like this and his body just had no idea how to handle it.

Dib mind raced, playing the previous weeks in his head, trying to figure out what went wrong. His master plan, a small gas bomb capable of temporarily paralyzing or knocking his enemy out, was finally complete. Many a sleepless night and wasted weekend on containment structure, chemical analysis and test runs. This was it. Finally, he could capture the alien menace and expose him. Finally, he would no longer be the crazy kid. Finally, the world would see the danger they were in all along. Finally.... he would be the hero.

But this wasn’t supposed to happen.

[[More]]

Dib snuck in through the front door after Zim’s idiot sidekick carelessly left it open, making haste to the neighborhood taco truck’s sirens blaring in the distance. He cautiously entered, realizing the Invader was no where in sight and gently placed the bomb in the center of the floor of the “living room”. Carefully he made his way up to the wires completely covering the ceiling for shelter. Soon enough, Gir threw the door open, Damn near ripping it off its hinges, absolutely covered in grease and meat. It seemed the taco run was a success.

He wandered over to the “box” in the middle of the floor and started screaming for his master. “MASTAAAAA!!!! A PRESENT!!!!!!” He shrieked and screeched. How did Zim deal with this all the time?

Within a moment or two, an undisguised Zim angrily emerged from the toilet in the kitchen (which was a sight Dib never really got used to. How does a WHOLE BODY fit down the small opening of a TOILET?!)

“Gir! What nonsense are you going on about!?”

“I gots a present! I’m the birthday boy!”

Zim quickly snatched the “gift” from the metallic hands, studying it’s shotty craftsmanship briefly and returning his full attention to the wide eyed robot standing before him. “What have I told you about bringing junk into this house? First that street lamp-” “But I wanted a nightlight to keep the monkey away.” Gir quietly and somberly interrupted.

Zim sighed. Was this conversation going to go anywhere? No. No, it wasn’t. He might as well talk to the jar of mayo still sitting open on the kitchen table from 3 days ago.

He bent down, clutching the box to his abdomen and give the robot a small pat on the head. “Zim told you he took care of the monkey. It can’t hurt you anymore. But please, Gir, refrain from bringing more stuff home.” He said calmly with a defeated tone in his voice. Gir’s face lit up with a wide grin spanning from “ear to ear” (had he had them anyway). “OKAAAAAY!” He screeched and wrapped his arms around his master. Dib could swear he heard something pop and squish under the groans and painful sounds Zim was emitting.

Then there was a click.

It seemed like the blink of an eye it all happened. An explosion unlike anything Dib ever thought possible by his hands unfolding around him. Windows shattered as glass slashed through the air in every which way direction. Chunks of flooring and wall violently slammed into anything unfortunate enough to come into their path. The fogged air was tainted with this disgustingly potent smell blanketing the entire room. The resulting shock wave flung Dib from his hiding spot, colliding with the cold tiles beneath him.

He blacked out for just a moment, his body on fire and his ears ringing loudly, drowning out all other sound. His eyes slowly opened and he worked up the strength to push himself to his feet. He noticed the blood on his hands as he lifted himself. He wasn’t surprised he got cut. He just couldn’t determain how bad. He was so disoriented.

He tried his best to scan the room, eyes adjusting themselves from the bright blast that had just assaulted them. A shine in the corner grabbed his attention in the sea of rubble and destruction. The robot, Gir, was crushed into the wall by large slabs of concrete and tiles. His once blue glowing eyes dim and cracked. He remained motionless.

“Oh, no.” Dib thought, realizing the severity of his actions. “Zim!” He cried out of instinct. There was no response. There was no movement in the cloud of smoke as it slowly decepated. The clearing air revealed Zim’s limp frame sprawled out within the neon-green splattered crater the explosion created by the front door. A gigantic hole displayed the vacant interior of his chest and abdominal cavity. Every bit of his internal organs were laid on the ground. His ruby eyes open and dull with his face resting almost peaceful. Dib’s stomach dropped.

THIS WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN.

Panic was setting in. He wanted to get close to the alien but it’s like his legs forbid such an action. So he goggled. “WHAT DO I DO?!” He blurted out to no one. He backed into the kitchen, never taking his eyes off the crater of debris and guts. His breathing jagged, his pulse racing and his throat overflowing, begging to release its contents on the oddly colored tiling. He felt sick.

“INITIATING SURVIVAL MODE”

He jumped. A sudden noise in this deafening silence. It was a voice he instantly recognized. Zim’s Computer. But it wasn’t echoing from the darkness of the house... it was coming from Zim.

The once limp body slowly started to adjust itself, trying to sit itself up. The more it moved, the more it’s contents leaked out of the organic frame. Dib just silently stared in awe....in relief.... in disgust as his fallen rival stood up. Swaying slightly as it tried to regain its balance. Their eyes locked. A shutter violently shook Dib. Zim was a lot of things. A pain in the ass. An idiot. Selfish. A narcissist. Incompetent. But this wasn’t Zim. This.... was TERRIFYING.

The creature’s thousand yard stare prickled Dib’s skin with the feeling of a million bugs crawling on his person. The paranormal investigator watched-even from several feet away- the speedy throbbing of the veins protruding around It’s eyes. The alien opened his mouth to speak and all that came out through the river of brightly colored blood was the sound of static. It was painful. SO PAINFUL to hear. Dib wanted to shield his ears from the sound but his body stood there still.

The creature’s attention tore away from Dib for a moment, eyeing the damaged robot. His PAK opened up, aggressively flinging his long, thin, robotic legs outwards. The legs came down one by one, echoing a small “clink” on the floor as the razor sharp ends touched the tile. His body lifted and made his way to the faithful metallic companion. Without saying a word, Dib watched as Zim’s body pried the heavy debris pinning the small robot. Gir’s body was released and the gloved hands gently caught him before he could fall on the floor.

THIS WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN

“Zim.... I swear.... I didn’t mean to...-“

He was caught off when the red eyes turned to his direction again. Even without pupils or Iris’, Dib could feel the daggers being thrown at him. The mouth opened to speak. “Gir.... why?”

Dib backed up one more step, further into the kitchen. Zim’s voice.... it was wrong. Metallic. Cold. Disoriented. Unlike anything he had ever heard before. Words caught in Dib’s throat but he mustered all his strength to release them. “It was an accident. It-it was just supposed to knock you out.” Dib continued to ramble. “I don’t know what happened!”

“Miserable”

Dib tensed up “W-what is?”

“Your existence brings misery. To your planet. To your family. To anyone unfortunate enough to come into contact with you.”

Those words cut Dib’s soul deep. It’s like Zim could read his worst fears. Something he kept hidden- that black stain in his heart-all this time. Exposed. Just like that.

Before he could say anything, the alien continued “ You have always been an annoyance, you sickening human. We cannot escape you. Your voice. Your presence. Your smell. Forever a thorn in our side. The reason my tallest find me nothing more than entertainment. Why Zim can never succeed in his goals. Now this....the only good Zim had...” he said staring at Gir’s face.

“What is he talking about? What did I do with his leaders?” Dib pondered, eyes frantically shifting between Zim’s body and the door behind him.

His neck snapped in Dib’s direction. “But that’s not the worst part. Zim always heard it. For years. It was always following me.” The legs carried him one step closer to the kitchen. Dib silently took a step backwards. “There. Annoying me. Attacking his senses. A constant reminder of the misery you cause. Zim will rid himself of this....this sound...”

Dib needed to flee. But how? This creature was in front of the door!

Zim’s lips curled up. His smirk growing, stretching wider and wider, tearing the ends of his mouth apart. Blood leaking down the sides of his face as the smile grew to sizes ever more disturbing. It was like he was trying to separate the top and bottom of head. There was a silence. With a grin unseen by human eyes before, The creature chucked.

“OnCe I sILeNcE tHaT hEaRt Of YoUrS, wiLl ZiM FiNaLLy bE FrEe?

As the creature leapt towards the investigator, his body (FINALLY) responded by quickly dodging out of the way, slamming into the sink. The thin, metallic legs crashed into the dining room table decimating it instantly. Without so much as a thought, Dib crawled into the trash can and landed into the claustrophobic elevator to the lab. He panted and shook. It was a terrible idea to go down to the labs. A territory not his. He was out of his element and he wasn’t sure how he would escape. But it beat staying up there and getting ripped to shreds. The pink glow of the elevator made him even more on edge.

The doors opened, startling Dib who was frantically lost in thought. He ran from the elevator, peeking behind tables, tubes and anything else while keeping his senses sharp and alert. Zim was somewhere. Maybe he could just take the elevator back up and leave? But what if he was still in the kitchen?

There was a high-pitched screech pouring from the shaft he had just exited. The elevator lights flickered, sparks raining down and the glow of Zim’s upside down eyes peeked through its opening. His legs slowly pulled him out, adjusting he and Gir (whom was still being cradled) upright. “Diiiiiiiiib.... I kNoW YoU aRe In HeRe....” it gargled.

Dib patiently waited, holding back his sobs and screams, for the towering monster to pass. He needed to keep running. Find the elevator to the toilet! It was the only way! He hid. And ran. Hid. And ran. It was the most horrifying game of cat and mouse conceivable. The longer it went on, the worse it seemed to get for him. He couldn’t find the exit. And he couldn’t find Zim. Not that he WANTED to find him, but at least pass him to know he was still in this metallic labyrinth. That the kitchen was clear.

Finally, he stumbled upon what he assumed was the elevator on the other side of a large room. He was so close-! Within a single second, his joy faded to nothingness by the familiar sound of scraping. He watched the shadow on the floor as it shakily passed by the table Dib had temporarily chosen as shelter. It stopped and stood still like a statue momentarily: Then went about it’s way. “Finally-! To that door!”

He sprinted to the exit, knocking a few items from a table and catching the beast’s attention. Running with all the strength his body had to offer, he was finally within reach of the button left of the doorframe. His fist slammed into it and the sounds of the creature hurried closer, bellowing his name in a mortifying shriek.

The double doors opened. Dib threw his body into the room only to hit into something and get pelted with tools and cans tumbling from above. Realization slapped him in the face. This isn’t an elevator....

This is a closet.

With heavy dread, Dib turned his face to see that he and the creature were mere inches away from each other. There was no where to go. Never taking his eye’s off Zim’s, he felt two sharp knives glide over his ribcage, gently banging on each bone as they made their way to their target. It’s face had a permanent smile, gradually becoming more and more uncontrollable the harder and faster the thrashing in Dib’s chest became. As the blades slowly began digging in and red blood mixed with green, 5 words continuously haunted his thoughts.

THIS WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN

Thanks so much to anyone that read this! I hope you enjoyed!

[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.