#i could ramble about it more but im cutting myself off here

[thetreefairy]

hii, i was wondering if u still do the yan!father muzan + reader? if you do, i’d be very happy to leave a request here!

so i was thinking if the reader could accidentally cut off a large portion of their hair and is unable to fix it by themselves and is now crying. how would muzan react and what would he do?

Hiii, I still write for everything actually, im just not that active because my adult life is kicking my ass— and writers block go brrr.

This was apparently in my drafts, so surprise?

Warnings; Muzan is a bit of a bitch in this one, but not really the author is too tired to write a full on bitch Muzan. Reader isnt a great hairdresser. Mentions of being kidnapped

GN reader with long hair mentioned

Plan stupid games, with stupid prizes

..... It took everything in Muzan's power to not laugh at his child's tears. Honestly what they expect would happen when they were playing hairdresser, that they would come out looking hot? Please, they can barely cut a straight line on paper.

Still he was rather pleased with how Reader sought out his comfort, turns out that they can pretend to be his obedient child. "I didn't mean to cut so much off." Reader whined as they cried, honestly they didn't. They just wanted to cut off some split ends that have been annoying them since they turned into a demon. "I just wanted to get rid off my split ends!"

"Baby," muzan interrupted readers rambling with a condensing tone. "You can barely cut a straight line, so you should have expected this." He was purring as Reader's breath hitched and he continued to rub their back. "When you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes."

Okay reader was about to smack his ass, their eyes twitched in annoyance as they pulled away from him. Now Muzan couldn't have that. "But I'll recut it for you," muzan purred once more, but reader was suspicious. Rightfully so. "If you stay on your best behaviour for a month."

".... I would rather cut it myself." Reader couldn't help but hiss, their tears drying up quickly as they finally realized he was still their kidnapper, and they should not have want to be cuddled by him. But then again they're touchstarved and Muzan had gotten into their mind (especially after turning). But they had to remember, he still harmed them in ways he could not seem to understand or realize was wrong.

"awh do you not trust your papa?" Muzan cooed, amused by their quick mood change. It seems like Daki has been rubbing off on her. "Papa did dabble in hairdressing a few 100 years back when he was bored."

".... No thanks I don't want to come out with a bowl cut."

[mye-chi]

HI INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT QUESTION what splatoon weapon do you think each aphverse character would wield

[definitelynotshouting]

your literary vocabulary is scrumptious, i will be taking it (it has me googling lots but its very worth it (i was not aware gooseflesh was a word))

you can pick it up in 2-5 business days <3 /j

WJXBKWDNAKDKSND 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥 GODS THE GOOSEFLESH BIT IS SO FUNNY ITS TRULY JUST ME BEING TOO PRETENTIOUS TO SAY GOOSEBUMPS..... or gods forbid goosepimples.....😭😭😭😭😭😭

Im honestly so glad people seem to like my vocab??? My writing style has become something very very distinct over the years and like . Your honor i love the fancee words..... i love how they look with my synesthesia 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 a lot of my writing is just focused very specifically on both musical rhythm in the way that its read (which makes it REALLY satisfying for me to read out loud to other people) and how the words LOOK on the page, both colour and texture-wise from my pov. Its fun to literally be painting with words :]

Actually its been such a huge relief that people have been so kind about the complex terminology i put in my writing-- its something i used to worry about a lot, in terms of accessibility and reading immersion, and if it was just. Too much in general??? But honestly, ive gotten so attached to this writing style, and im too much of a fan of being esoteric to try and change it.... im happiest when i get to throw in big words and paint very specific images with them :]]] and the fact that people keep commenting on it in such positive ways is just very nice and validating for me, which is a huge bonus :DDD

[dizzybizz]

hai here is a sketch dump with too many fandoms :) sorry about the ungodly amount of men here i have been going through it and by it i mean gay

ok wait i ran out of tags??? it wont let me tag them all😭😭😭 im gonna have to be sparing with them uhh i guess i will have to ramble under the cut then cus i like rambling in my tags but i cant with this one 😭

(ok im back from the ramble: it is way too long.... proceed forward if you want to see some guy just absolutely talk nonsense for entirely too long)

no cus i swear i have tried tagging more stuff than this before and never hit the limit but whatever

hello i really use this like a fkn blog huh

i just wanted to provide some thoughts on the harper and rosé one first bc its important to me 😌 cus i was thinking abt harper and how in my head and heart of hearts she would be the kid who thought you get pregnant from kissing and i dont think she ever really grew out of that belief. <- this ended up spawning the idea of harper being a sex-repulsed ace and i will die on this hill actually. fight me or die, you die either way actually nvm

this is just a buncha blorbos i dont know what to tell you really. sketch pages like these always end up so weird for me bc for some reason my brain always wants the characters in them to interact in some way. whether that be talking or just reacting to what the other is doing... its something i cant stop with, its so stupid and silly and i hate it and i love it. where else would i see kabru slowly losing his mind with how loud phoenix wright is in court????

I THOUGHT I HAD GOTTEN OFF THE RAILS WITH THAT BUT THEN THE NEXT PAGE HAPPENED. and all i could do was laugh and ask "what the fuck am i drawing??? HOW DID WE GET HERE? WHY IS THISTLE HERE WITH LEOPIKA HELP" LIKE that page started with the big leopika and then i was like "man i miss thistle lemme draw him real quick" but the curse struck and now hes being homophobic so </3

i rlly like how the nic(k) page turned out ... i just have a lot of nicks i like drawing idk.. the lil guy is an oc,,, one day his ref sheet will be finished and itll be awesome but not for now, sorry baby, no can do. im weirdly happy with how the hands turned out for all of them tho?? so thats a W

yotasuke, murai, nick (youll never know which one im referring to. .. jkjk its hoult i love the pose there ehehhe), nic and the entire last page r my favs. i like em all but those rlly get me yknow- the olly too ofc but ive already posted him, dont mind him being here, hes part of the set. AND OVER ALL IVE BEEN HAVING SO FUN WITH SHADING BLACK AND JUST LEAVING SPOTS BLANK ITS SO ?`????

WHY IS THIS SO LONG PLS DONT READ ALL THIS THIS IS STRAIGHT UP EMBARRASSING AGHSDFGSDHJSGD im all like "yeah i dont like talking about myself or whatever" but as soon as i get to my process or blorbos or smth the floodgates fucking break open, not even burst man.

also dont mind how i havent even acknowledged pingas twink pokemon counterpart. hes just here for shits and giggles i dont know the guy like at all, i watched a handful of eps of horizons and that was it RIP

[mysteryanimator]

Here ye here ye, another breaking down processes post from yours truly!

For this animation, my plan was to make something I'm proud of AND also something to force me to take my time since with all previous animation works they were all rushed. I normally tend to speed through work as someone whose illustrations are painterly and I like to keep them rough. Also lets be totally honest my other plan for this animation was to animate Mizrox being so sickeningly sweet.

Fun fact, this animation was going to be longer. I had tried to plan out Olrox climbing on top of Mizrak during the kiss to lay on his chest. There was an attempt trying to rough that out and several ref videos It was scrapped because for the life of me I could not figure it out. Also hypothetically if I was going to keep it, I would cut to another angle (perhaps Mizrak's face close up) and then cut to another angle that would make it easier to see that climbing over the top. OR, consider Olrox already sleeping on his chest (im just rambling now but this is basically 'if you were able to do this again' section).

I wish I actually went through a more proper tie-down process because the jump from going from my rough straight to clean was rough (badum tsk) for the first few seconds. Defintely learnt my lesson ALSO Olrox is surprisingly really fun to draw from behind.

I challenged myself to see if I could get the idea of "bigger movements, less in-betweens, smaller/slower movements, more in-betweens." Though the effect of Olrox rubbing his face against his arm may be a little too jarring and I steered quite a bit away from my rough and self-reference video in hopes of making the face rubbing more apparent because I thought the character acting was too subtle and wanted a contrast to the other half of the scene. I reconfigured my CSP animation workspace for this too so it definitely made the process less tedious when cleaning up the animation.

(Which by the way I do record a lot of self-references depending on the section! For things I can't do/uncomfortable doing, I'll end up looking up videos. It's the easiest for me to catch subtle things in body language and also get a feels for the motion.)

Also I'm really satisfied with Olrox's anticipation before his smooch and the shoulder roll at the end even though technically the arc doesn't complete itself. MIZRAK THOUGH, when cleaning up I realised my rough wouldn't make sense because he's already looking at him so there's no need for a turn, and then the lack of a shoulder movement felt jarring, so all of that was done without any thought, wish I did think about it more though.

Now compositing was a monster in its own right and basically me jumping back and forth between turning on and off different layers, but here are all the new things I did; I duplicated and blurred the lines of the lineart, beveled the shadows so it was lighter on the inside, and added a rim of blur so the focus drew towards the couple. Also will absolutely admit that my fanboy ass went "... be crazy and try to mimic the show." The final did not go that route because I thought it was more important to emphasize the mood/atmosphere (Also Olrox is intentionally stylized differently because i wanted him to be softer here and I had to give him eye highlights for plot HELP). THOUGH to say I did not try to mimic the style, the #2 lighting test was my 'attempt' LOL 😭 I can never consume media normally.

Here are the lighting tests I went through. I definitely knew I wanted to go with a morning vibe, though I tested out a night ver for fun and did some edge lighting which led to mixing both version #2 and #3 to make #4.

Fun fact, I almost went with #2 due to fear of getting too heavy-handed with compositing and therefore losing the animation (even though I really liked #4 at the time). Thanks to a friend, they also shared the sentiment of liking #4, though pointed out it felt like midday and encouraged me to make the colours warmer and deepen the shadows. It is a really tough balance but I think for a softer scene like this, the more additional layers of comp worked out in the end.

The edge light was a last minute thing because someone told me to add sound and to have light stream in. Also at this point I deadass forgot that you know, Olrox, is a vampire, but hey rule of cute overrules. We can pretend its light not from the sun LOL

Also yay I got to show off my own style a tad, I love paintingggg. It's not as completely fully rendered coz I knew that it would get covered up but I still made sure it was quite clean regardless. I didn't realise how much of it would be covered up even though I did make sure they would fit/make sense for bg LOL

Now we are done!

If you've gotten this far thank you! There's gonna be less frequency of these animations due to the semester starting back up soon and I don't get many opportunities to actually 2D animate (despite it being an animation degree RAH). Also I remembering cringing and laughing a lot when I immediately started putting colour down going "oh i can see the end of the horizon, i have too much power as an artist, people will see this i cant let them see me be crazy"

[Here's some memes I drew over while my friend was reviewing my work]

[sahisan]

Hiiiii!!! May I ask for a wanderer x gn reader wherein they are rivals suddenly turning into roommates?

This can be hc and/or a fanfic, whatever is comfortable for you.

★ summary: wanderer x gn!haravatat scholar!reader. nahida assigning you to work on a project, translating an ancient plate with old runes in inazuman language, and she happens to have a certain someone by her side who may be willing to help. (im so bad at summaries im sorry)

☆ cw: sfw. fluff. rivals (enemies) to friends (??? idk there's no romance pointed out (but you can say enemies to lovers if you see it in here)). and they were roommates. kinda. wanderer stealing your tea at night. open ending (cliffhanger?). 1000 words.

☾ a/n: the "wanderer stealing your tea at night" part in the fic was so random i genuinely see myself as a genius for hc'ing him that way ohmygod. thank you anon, i really enjoyed writing this one.₍⁠₍⁠ ⁠◝⁠(⁠　ﾟ⁠∀⁠ ﾟ⁠ ⁠)⁠◟⁠ ⁠⁾⁠⁾

"what?!" your voice echoed through the space of the sanctuary of surasthana as you stared at the small figure of the dendro archon in front of you with wide-open eyes.

this can't be happening.

"why am i being paired up with him? he's not even a scholar!" you protested.

but that's not even the worst.

"and the worst! why is he going to live with me in the time of our project?" you threw up your hands, pitying yourself and mentally preparing for what will happen.

"nahida, my dearest, spare my life, would you?" you begged the small archon, trying to convince the goddess to have mercy on the poor you.

nahida knew that you both couldn't stand each other - your constant rambling about how tha "hat guy" often can't keep his mouth shut, continuously speaking out loud his thoughts about you- no, not thoughs, they were insults of his own kind, and you often found yourself mumbling about how irritating he is in the empty rooms of the house of daena; she also listened to how wanderer complained about you - you, who dared to snatch his hat away while he accidentally fell asleep on one of many lectures in the akademiya. yet not only you took it away, you also had the courage to place it on your disgusting head, and walk with it on around for the time he was asleep!

"the runes that were found in those ruins are written in inazuman, [name]. and wanderer is... well-familiar with that language and the nation itself." the young goddess explained in her calm tone of voice, keeping away most of the details.

"but nahida, have mercy, there's no way we coul-"

your pleas were cut off with nahida's small frown and intense stare. you couldn't help but sigh, hopeless.

you thought that when wanderer will have his enter to your house, the building will be blasting with his mocking comments out of everywhere, that arguments and occasional disagreements in everything wouldn't have their end. yet, you were wrong. you and wanderer were ordinary discussing the project of translating the old inazuman runes, talking through about who will deal with this or that topic in it, or who will translate the meaning of the old plate with those runes.

you ofthen found yourself surprised at how he would try to keep down his banter when he saw how exhausted you were after those lectures in the akademiya, so he just shut himself up in case he happened to walk on you in that state, and instead resented how you don't take care of yourself, devoting so much time to all the unnecessary languages ​​and useless pieces of paper called books.

but, there was one more thing.

since wanderer has recently moved to your house, your tea began to disappear as if a cat was sneaking into your kitchen at night, brewing ten cups of tea at once. you already had your suspicions on who could it be, but you needed to figure it out yourself.

so, you waited for him to appear at the usual place you two are meeting every morning for fresh breakfast (for you - a full breakfast, for the puppet - a cup of the bitterest tea you have ever tried in your entire life) - kitchen. sitting in fron of each other while he was already drinking the second cup of tea this morning, and you had just finished with your dish, just sitting there and granting you both with silence.

you took a deep breath, trying not to laugh at your own idea of breaking the silence.

"wanderer, dear, would you please enlighten me on why my tea has been dissipating every night since you got here?" you asked in a fake bittersweet tone, clearly hiding a laugh that has been brewing in your throat.

as he proceeded to raise the cup to his lips, but stopped after your words. wanderer's eyes glimmered with suspense. was he really that obvious, he thought?

"are you implying that-"

"yes."

"no, i am not stealing your tea at night." wanderer scoffs with a scowl on his features. he needed to get the suspicion off himself. "it even sounds like a joke, do you even hear yourself?"

"so how would you explain the magical disappearing of my tea?" you mockingly raised your eyebrows, prepping your chin and cheek on you palm, your elbow on the table.

"that's none of my concern, [name]." he deadpanned, not even bothering to look at your side. ah, good old mean wanderer. how you missed that.

you sighed with a smile that clearly showed that you definitely knew something, and laid the suss off of him for now.

for now.

yet, you decided to check on him later that night, as you were oh so right in your suspicions. you just needed to cast light on his small, silly doings that he denied every now and then. and so, you sneaked into your kitchen at night to prove your point.

what you saw clearly amused you - you needed you hold a hand over your mouth to not laugh out loud in the middle of the night. this was too predictable.

wanderer was leaning against the kitchen counter with his front, with his back turned to you. he was facing the window, the moonlight illuminating on his porcelain skin and indigo hair as if he was an angel from heaven himself. your feauters softened upon seeing him glaring up at the moon in thoughts, yet your eyes wandered off of wanderer and to the three already empty cups of tea next to him on the counter.

"i knew it would be you." you whispered, not bothering to hide a smile, as you heard him snort shortly after.

"...tch. no peace in this house even at night." wanderer sighed, taking another sip from the fourth cup of tea. he turned his head slightly to the side, a small, genuine smile coating his lips. "how irritating."

[mellowquint]

Fanbinding Masters of Mayhem - a Ninjago and Lego Monkie kid crossover!!!

FINALLY after weeks of putting the project on the shelf i finally have the (motivation) free time to complete this amazing bookbind!!! Shoutout to my best friend who came to me and ask if i could bind it. So what better birthday gift than to bind her current favourite crossover story? At the time of this post i have not given the gift to her yet so fingers crossed that she likes this 🤞😖

Thank you FictionForLife_NZ for creating this absolute hilarious masterpiece!! I have been wanting to read an LMK crossover fic for the longest time and low and behold, the ao3 algorithm has answered my prayers lol. Me and best friend really love the character interaction that the Ninja’s have with the LMK crew 😂. Also the shipping!! Best friend absolutely LOVES dragonfruit but was sad that they didn’t have as much of a fandom dedication as opposed to spicynoodles. So imagine her suprised (and scream) that dragonfruit is the main pairing in the story and their many iconic moments together!! Also the climax truly had me at the edge of my seat!! And that ending?? Gosh couldn’t have asked it better myself Ninjago writers really should take notes ✍️!!! Anyways enough rambling here’s the fic if you would like to give a read, absolute 10/10

Flip through

Some close ups

also yes excuse me and my terrible phone and room lighting it did not do this book justice.

Unfortunately I couldn’t find any fanart that was related/tagged so there was no illustrations for the book. However thats when i had the idea of making the chapter title in the same font as the Ninjago font! To make it seem like every new chapter is an episode!

Also unfortunately couldn’t tag the author since i can’t find their tumblr. If any of you know if said author does have tumblr please let me know!

If you’re all curious on how i make this, i recommend going to the first bookbinding project that i did, its all the same process except with some new improvements that im gonna talk about under the cut

I definitely learned a lot from my mistakes from the last time that i did this, and of course gain new mistakes as well 🥲.

The edges aren’t trimmed

The cover isn’t aligned

The printing for the covers are garbage

Book would not lay flat, instead forever stuck at a weird 120 degree angle

Overall a lot of stuff

This was a given by the fact that i have no experience and was impatient. But since this is a gift for Best Friend ofc this has to actually look good, so here are the improvements that i made

Signature printing— i will admit it took some time and effort but after the old cannon printer finally died permanently jammed, managed to convince parents to buy a more advanced and better printer that can now do double sided printing!! No more wasted signatures from here on out 😮‍💨

Cover printing — not wanting a repeat of the last time that i did it i went to my local Officeworks to get it printed by them. Here i discovered the beauty that is known as ✨Poster Prints✨. Now all of my yellow lines and elements actually do show an pop against the darker background!! Unfortunately this does have a drawback because the prints are sensitive to any type of scratching. Not the scratch and all the colors come off way, more like the scratch it and lines will show up kind of way as you can really see in the front cover :') . Will work on improving this is future projects.

Trimming the edges — originally in book one i trimmed the edges using your typical box cutter and cut it myself. Bad BAD idea i was doomed at that moment. So imagine my surprise the Officeworks ALSO do CUTTING service!!! My jaw dropped and i immediately went back the next day with my text block and asked them if they could trim all edges. After some inspection they put it through the guillotine and all of my edges are perfectly trimmed. Saved me all the time, money, and storage.

Laying book flat — this was definitely the biggest pet peeve that I have with my first book. The way i do it now is i now put a one cm gap between the front cover, side cover and back cover. And also using the right paper (cardstock) to connect the text block with the covers. Now the book can actually fully open!!!

Cover alignment — I printed out the front and back in regular paper and use that as a template on where i wanna fold the prints to find the cover. Worked like a charm

once again shoutout to best friend for giving me the brilliant idea when making the covers!! had it not been for her to point out about clause's book of spells i would have never made the coolest cover page that I've made in my entire binding experience!! all in all im pretty dang proud of myself for being able to improve on my bookbinding skill.

[xxmaxwellxx]

Very sorry but can someone help me find another twst fic? It was more like headcannons but it’s where reader was at a masquerade/ball type event and rollo was there, my memory isn’t the best so forgive me, but I think rollo and reader dance and the boys watch with jealousy but I remember rollo taking reader out on some kind of balcony and either trying to kiss reader or convince them to leave the boys. I’m pretty sure it was the second one with him spouting off something about purity. I remember Azul for sure being in this one and I think malleus was in there too but I think they kiss reader in front of him or take them back inside at the end of their respective headcannons. Edit: here’s the link! https://www.tumblr.com/cyn-write/731537190125961216/i-feel-her-i-see-her

If anyone could help me I would be very grateful. Also if you recognize my username/me asking for help so many times and want an explanation I’ll leave it under the cut because it’s probably going to be me trauma dumping.

Hi, I’m Max. I have an anxiety disorder. The reason I’ve asked for help so many times and in so many fandoms is partly because of my anxiety. I recently got a new phone and I’ve had a hard time adjusting because all the screenshots I have of the fanfic I’ve read is on my old phone. If you’re wondering why I haven’t just airdropped the screenshots to my new phone it’s because I had so many screenshots that it took up all 64gb on my phone, not all of them were screenshots but about half of my storage was taken up by them. And when I think of a fanfic that’s not in my new camera roll I panic, and when I can’t find it by googling it or looking for it here on tumblr I panic even more. Just a few days ago I spent eight hours looking through my old phone for a fanfic that wasn’t even on there, I found it eventually but I was in tears begging whatever god that would listen to help me find it by the end. If you’re wondering why I get so worked up over fanfic of all things it’s because a few years back when I first found fanfiction I was depressed and suicidal do to living conditions I won’t go into, I used it as an escape so I wouldn’t have to face reality and ever since then fanfiction became such a huge part of my identity that I couldn’t imagine myself not reading it and I genuinely panic over not being able to find the ones I’m looking for. I’m on medication and looking for a therapist, I’m getting better I think, but it’s been hard. Im not trying to guilt trip and I’m not writing this for pity or sympathy or anything like that, I just think that where I post in so many tags, sometimes multiple times, I owe people an explanation. I might just be over thinking it but I imagine someone scrolling through their favorite tags and seeing me there and helping me out and then seeing me over and over again and getting annoyed so I feel like I owe people answers on why I’m asking for help so much. I feel guilty asking for help so much but I genuinely loose sleep over this. I’m very grateful for the people helping, trying to help and have helped me. It’s why I try to thank them even if they didn’t find the one I was looking for, just knowing people are willing to help puts me at ease and I usually post my requests for help before going to sleep because just talking about something with people who know what I’m talking about or is in the same fandom as me puts me at ease. If I’m annoying I’m sorry but just putting something out there where there are people who are willing to help and don’t judge me for it helps me sleep at night. Sorry for rambling and call me stupid or crazy or anything like that but I’m trying to get better, I really am and putting posts out there with the hope that someone can help calms my anxiety. Even if I don’t get a link or answers or get to reader the fic again just posting and talking about it helps me, like letting go of it and letting it drift away. Thank you for reading and I’m sorry.

[shootingstarrfish]

Hi I wanted to ask one of my fav obey me artists this question: Least favorite to favorite characters? If you wanna say why, that'd be cool. If anything! Please have a nice day!

hii there!!! dearest anon stop being so nice you're going to make me cry AHSHDHD thank you,,, <33333

but what a fun question! for anyone who doesn't want to read my stupid long explanation for each character i will leave this tierlist here! all tiers (except the first tier) are organised by most to least liked within the tier from left to right

no i dont hate lucifer, it's just facebook relationship status (aka complicated <3)

i have plenty of opinions though so i'll go ahead and give some explanations too!! >:D under the cut because there's a lot of rambling here LOL

some of the list is a bit boring because i cant really say i hate or even dislike any characters, and i don't wanna be mean about any characters just cause they're not necessarily my favourites so!

that being said lucifer pisses me off to a comical degree and he absolutely doesn't belong at the bottom but my feelings about him are so ridiculously complicated i don't know where else he belongs? i wish so badly that i could hate him in an uncomplicated way and move on but as an eldest sibling he's such a personal attack on me and i hate it. he's me, i'm him it's horrible. every time i start to think "ahh he's not that bad" he opens his mouth and makes me regret thinking that. i still think about the time i chose to kiss him on the ferris wheel and he held his hand out after and i took it and he said it reminded him of his dead sister, i will never stop holding it against him. he deserves to be loved and taken care of and he also should be thrown off a cliff. im quite certain if i had to assign myself a sin i would pick pride and i hate it >:( (this is all very lighthearted lol)

diavolo used to viscerally annoy me for no good reason when i first started the game, but over time he's grown on me and i'd say now i'm neutral-positive on him!! no idea why i hated him, i was just very salty for no reason hahaha i've recently come to appreciate his character a lot more, im very :( about how lonely he must be and i want him to have more genuine friends please solmare

i think mephisto really is just the kind of character i need to see more of to like, he's very interesting to read character analyses of (and kinda relatable tbh?) but i just need more in game is all! i love his silly lil poses those are real fun, and he is pretty

levi is another i also used to hate out of nowhere? i was neutral on him initially and then i suddenly hated him with a burning passion until one of my friends told me she really loved him and im physically incapable of hating a character my friends love so we're chill again HAHA slowly beginning to like him though! what a pathetic sopping wet cat of a man, it's GREAT

OUUGHH i so badly wanna be able to love beel more, it hurts me to have to put him here but unfortunately this is the way it is... i think it's more accurate to say i love the idea of beel? and ive noticed i really like him everywhere that isnt the game, which again is unfortunate :,)))

LUKE IS MY SON he is babyyyyyyy that's all i have to say <333 my precious lil sonboy he deserves the whole entire world

everyone loves mammon, and i am no exception :D he's not necessarily my type hence why he's neatly placed right in the middle but ugh i love a guy who tries and fails miserably to act tough but is super sweet inside, what a guy <3 ok i flip flopped between putting satan and simeon in the love tier because i am so very fond of both of them, but that's too many characters up there so imagine they're both in a weird tier purgatory between the 2 LOL

i am in fact going to marry simeon and then we will raise luke together it's a fact simeon is everything he's pretty and beautiful and a very complex and interesting character ahhh

SATAN MY LOVE he's a very interesting case to me in that i feel on paper he should be the kind of character who would be on the top of the list! he's smart and kind and unhinged and would kill for you and he likes cats!!! truly husband material i adore him

im going to marry thirteen, thanks for listening to my ted talk <3 my darling beautiful wife who would laugh hysterically if i fell down the stairs i love u thirteen <3333333 we will be wed tomorrow and we will live the dream in her silly lil cave of pranks and curses

i dont know what it is about raphael but i adore him??? is it the wet kitten swag? the done with life expression? his ridiculous outfit? i couldnt tell you but i saw him for the first time and i was immediately obsessed everything i learn about him just makes me more obsessed, i love the fact that he enjoys solomons cooking, the way he's good at sewing and is kind but kinda scary, what a fun character

i could talk endlessly about solomon oh how i love this silly househusband wizard guy i was pretty neutral on him in the og game, and then he swiftly stole my heart in nightbringer and now i would eat his terrible cooking any day of the week just to see him smile <3 if i die seeing him happy that's probably the best way to go out all his calls and messages are sooo cute and they make me melt im in love please just one chance...

barbatos and solomon are typically equal on the list i'd say? but the barbatos brainrot is hitting harder now so he gets to be ever so slightly higher this once hahaha barbs is another that took a while to grow on me, not that i ever disliked him or anything but i definitely overlooked him at first! design wise i absolutely LOVE him, his demon form is definitely one of my absolute favourites. the unique but still put together suit?? the ruffles?? the bone wing horns?? ugh he's just very pretty, and SO interesting as well love a calm collected guy who totally has the potential to destroy you if he so wishes but has a soft spot for you

and of course, real shocker im sure, at the tippy top of the list would be asmo and belphie my beloveds <333 i love them both equally and i could never put one above the other i actually started playing obey me for belphie because one of my favourite character tropes is The Tired One TM, and im absolutely not immune to a cute emo boy either. i've grown to really love his sass and the way he hides his manipulative nature behind his sweet and innocent appearance hehe i also do love how ridiculously forward and blunt he is at times, what a silly guy while belphie was very predictable, asmo was a very out of nowhere character for me! i distinctly remember seeing him initially and thinking "avatar of lust?? i guess he's pretty but he'll probably just be the fuckboy character who makes nonstop innuendos and has no character beyond that, and i'm too asexual for this" so i avoided him a lot at first, but i'm very weak for how kind and gentle and charismatic he is, and the way he puts his all into everything and everyone <333 it didnt take long for me to realise that he's almost exactly the kind of person i aspire to be more like

also miura ayme gives me so much gender envy its not fair send tweet

[lemon-wedges]

Just wanted to ask (and feel free to not answer), but how do you draw so much so quickly? I'm always impressed by how fast you doodle or paint. Also, wanted to say that I appreciate your Barok and DGS art as a whole.

and with this ask i have finally reached an artist milestone 😭

Well theres a short answer and a REALLY long answer (which ill put under cut when i get there).

short answer: practice + refs

which.....can be an annoying thing to hear. And as someone who studies art and has bought a LOT of online courses trying to figure out how industry people can just churn out work like nothing. it feels like a let down every time i find out their big secret. just practice and photo refs. Every. Single. Time.

LONG ANSWER:

its how you studying your refs. heres how i do mine

sorry if this is rambly. but ill try my best to at least be clear. BUT THIS is the EXACT way i taught myself how to be quicker.

I do not know if youve taken any art classes but essentially one of the ways to study gesture drawing is by first tracing ur photo ref to get a sense of the flow/proportions of the body. youve probably seen a billion of these tutorials floating around:

So last year around hmmmm june/july? i was NOT looking to get better at my anatomy or gesture. i was actually trying to get better at clothes. but my problem was it took me so long to draw out a figure (which i was fine with cause i liked how my people looked at the time) that i could never really just focus clothing part.

So i told myself look. ur not looking to draw in this style like this forever. so for now SIMPLIFY SIMPLIFY SIMPLIFY!!!! I WANT THE BAREBONES OF A HUMAN HERE TO MAKE A MANIQUIEN FOR CLOTHES OK

but how do i do that....

Im gonna use this piece as an example from my rise and yosuke fashion palooza month. FIRST u see i got all my photo refs together. i like those poses on the right and i want to switch out the clothes for the other ones i picked out. i trace out my poses. kind of like the tutorial up top but since this is about draping i was focused the exact places their waist/arms/legs/etc would bend.

and like the tutorial u turn off the photo ref and do a drawing based off that traced piece.

then i would turn on my refs and add on my clothes

And after a month of just doing that over and over and over. i was surprised to find that figures and poses were so much easier to understand when i would break them down like this. and once u get familiar with them the faster and more confidently you'll draw them.

I and still do this btw. heres my otasune from the last week

i used photo refs for all my sketches. if i cant find anything online to match what i want i just take photos of myself. and some might say well arent u just relying on reference TOO much?

AND AGAIN take it from someone who has spend a lot of money buying classes from their fav artists in the industry. The Secret of how they churn out so much cool work so fast always turns out to be this. practice and photo refs.

Every. Single. Time.(tho this is omitting a lot. im not getting into like they way they stylize their art work. that actually the fastest and funnest thing to do once u have ur base down)

Now PAINTING

The thing is, i dont actually post up all my work on this blog. So theres a ton of stuff you havent seen me do. These are some paintings i did 2 years ago for a class.

I already know how to pick my values and set up lighting. When you see me painting my figures now. i am not focused on learning these basics im actually just honing a technique.

you might see me post readmores with these kinds of wips. I lay in all my colors and lighting with the lasso tool. ALL THE MAJOR DECSIONS ARE DONE HERE

(the little miniature i add on the side basically tells me what the overall feeling is going to be when i blend in the lineart to be cohesive with my colors) ( also if you had any questions on my prepainting process tho. feel free to ask!!!)

and if you compare this wip to my finished piece youll actually find that i dont stray that far from what i've laid in.

everything happening at THIS stage is about feeling out how i want the textures to blend with one another and getting funky with some brush strokes.

and thats it? im not sure if any of this is helpful but if anything. i hope you come away from this feeling like what ive been doing here is nothing special. "THATS IT???? THATS ALL THERE IS??? well i could have done that :T"

exactly man. you can do ALL OF THIS aND MORE!!! I BELIEVE IN U :D

but ill let this be the last thing i leave u with my friend: my barok sketch and the refs i used for his boobies

[imsoquarky]

OKAY IM GONNA TALK ABOUT TMNT MM NOW

WARNING FOR SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT!!! THIS IS A RAMBLE POST, I AINT TIPTOEING AROUND IT!!!

Also, probably gonna start making # for post types. I feel like I reblog so much stuff that it's hard to find my actual content-

♠️ - ♣️ - ♥️ - ♦️

Starting off the bat, everyone who said Rise lovers were gonna love MM were absolutely correct. I adored this movie with every fiber of my being and I really think it could bring new people into the TMNT fandom just as ROTTMNT did.

While I will always be sad that Rise did not get the merch it deserved, I am over the moon that MM is getting it. The toys I've seen and merch I've gotten are already extraordinary. For the most part they are very very well made and most of it doesn't look like they've seen their entire family be brutally ripped limb from limb.

But moving away from my opinions about merch which is a whole other bag of worms being the physical item lover I am. THE MOVIE WAS BEAUTIFUL!!!

The storyline, the characters, the voice acting, the line delivery, the writing, the comedy, and ofc most of all

THE ART!! OMG THE ART!!! I LOVED EVERY SINGLE BIT!!! I see so much dragging on the art of this movie because it's ugly BUT THATS THE WHOLE POINT!!! It's meant to be messy, asymmetrical, even uncomfortable at times. Every character is so vastly different from the last, including every single background character. Some of my favorite overall designs were Splinter, April, Stockman, Superfly, Mondo Gecko, and even that fuckin BEAST Superfly turned into at the end.

This was the first iteration I watched where Splinter started out as a rat, being only into the more modern media, I had no idea that he was originally a pet. I could go on and on about MM Splinter and that is what I am going to do. I LOVED HIM. SO MUCH. He was such a dad, and an absolute badass when he wanted to be. Kicking ass to save his sons and just worried out of his mind about them. Despite his distain for humans, he was willing to take their help when it was offered. Instead of reprimanding his sons right then and there, he'd give them a hug and make sure they were safe beforehand. And when he saved them from getting their blood taken (I'm not calling it milking, please don't make me omg- /lh), he was like "I told you so!" but not in like.. a toxic way?? I never thought Splinter would end up as my favorite of any iteration, yet... here we are.

But y'all probably aren't all that interested in my gushing about Splinter yeah? Let's talk about the turtles, going from my favorite to least favorite (not to say I don't absolutely love them all, I just like some more than others.)

Raphael and Donnie are tied, but I'll start with just Raph. Raphael very much reminded me of when I was younger. Down to the struggled with volume & um... well, anger issues. Deep down, he loves and cares about his brothers, but he wants to branch out and meet new people. It's not that he doesn't want them to be there when he dies, it's that he wants to know other people outside of them. He loves them, but it's only natural to not want to ONLY have them.

Donatello was a silly guy, lots of playful jabs at his brothers and I just loved him. Also, the guy can DRIVE. Technically, being old enough, most places I know you can get a learners permit, so he probably realistically could drive. Despite complaining about having a "giant stick" much like 2012 Donnie, I found myself less annoyed by his complaints. Maybe I'm bias? Who knows. Point is, I loved him.

Leonardo, like Raph, was extremely relatable. With his upbringing and having a very anxious father, it makes sense to have such chronic anxiety. I swear, sometimes I feel like a mix between MM Leo and MM Raph. While ofc, I wasn't a fan of the little crush on April, it's not unrealistic. This is the first girl they've met and he has dreams of getting a girlfriend, obviously a 15 year old like that is gonna fall head over heels for the first girl he sees. Hell, when I first found out girls could like girls I honestly wasn't much different. (Ofc, I'm not a girl anymore, but that's besides the point here). But April shutting him down at prom was a relief, I'm hoping it just stays as a little puppy crush. It was handled SO much better than 2012 ever did, and I'm standing by that.

Now Michelangelo. Mikey was the SWEETEST OMG. Him and Mondo were an adorable duo and I'm hoping in future content we get more of them. Also, what is with Mikey and almost getting hit with cars in this film? I think the mans needs to keep away from the streets because he's like the critters down here in Kansas, very bad luck with cars. Only reason he's probably my least fav here is because I guess I don't have much to say about him, like, specifically?

Anyways. That's a lot of rambling, someone please talk to me about MM.

[devildom-moss]

Since you menioned Simeon and Barbatos in the same sentence, its my time to rant about how much i love Simbarb!!

I AM LITERALLY ON MY KNEES FOR THAT SHIP. EVERY SCRAP OF SIMBARB CONTENT I CAN FIND, I WILL DEVOUR IT LIKE THERES NO TOMORROW. DOESNT MATTER IF ITS FLUFF, ANGST, OR HECK EVEN SMUT. I LIVE FOR SIMBARB. THERES NOTHING ELSE THAT WILL SATISFY ME MORE THAN SIMBARB. LIKE THE SHIP IS JUST PERFECT IN EVERY WAY POSSIBLE. AND BOTH BARBATOS AND SIMEON ARE PERFECT AS WELL. I WANT TO LIKE, SQUEEZE THE LIFE OUT OF THE TWO OF THEM, AFFECTIONATELY.

I think i went a little off course.. oh and i read this simbarb fanfiction once and now ive created a whole au with lore and backstory with Simeon and someone else (which can technically be MC but the actual MC also exists in this au). And i really wanna talk about it to someone, but there's no one who wants to listen, but you're now back, and im happy so maybe ill talk about it to you if youre interested!

Anyways have a nice day! Remember to eat, sleep and dont do drugs <33

Sincerely, 💜

You are so right for this. Those two are not only my favorites, but they are probably my favorite ship (I don't know if I've made that clear in my writing, but I feel like there have at least been hints). We are on the same boat here (I apologize for the pun, but I'm sending it out into the world anyway). I am right there with you. They are precious individually and together. I generally am not a touchy/hugging person, so I wouldn't want to squeeze them, but I would make them a delicious bowl of soup, give them pats on the head, and tell them that they're both good boys.

Especially as a fellow SimBarb lover, you are welcome talk about your AU here! Also, in general, I love reading about how people view character relationships (romantic, platonic - in any form, really).

While I'm here, I would like to fuel the SimBarb love with a few thoughts of my own it won't be too much because I'm going to head to bed soon, so my brain is in wind down mode.

Okay, so I lied to myself about the "a few" and rambled for 10 bullet points, so more under the cut:

Canonically, Barbatos and Simeon just often find themselves on outings together. Barbatos phrases it like it's unintentional; it just happens; they just have accidental dates. Well, considering that Barbatos seems to always have good luck, maybe there's a reason he keeps finding himself on outings with Simeon. Wouldn't it be lucky if he happened to run into a certain handsome angel while he was out?

I think it took Simeon longer to realize he liked being around Barbatos than it took Barbatos to notice how much he enjoyed spending time with Simeon. Simeon probably used Luke as a kind of affection proxy for a long time. A lot of "Luke really likes Barbatos," and "Barbatos is so sweet to Luke. It really warms my heart." Really? Is it just Luke who likes Barbatos?

They probably pick up groceries a lot together, and they both like to menu plan as they browse the markets, so they end up taking ideas from each other. Sometimes they'll plan to cook the same dish on the same night. It makes them kind of giddy. Even though they don't share meals often, when they cook the same thing on the same night, it almost feels like they're getting to eat together.

Whenever Luke goes to Barbatos for cooking/baking lessons, Barbatos tries to ensure they have leftovers for Luke to take back to Simeon. Additionally, Barbatos is especially motivated to help the final product turn out good (outside of just wanting Luke to learn and succeed) because he knows it's a reflection of his own skills and he wants to impress Simeon.

Also, I could see Barbatos sending Luke back home with two bouquets of flowers (especially edible flowers and sometimes herbs) from his garden. One is for Luke, but the other one, Barbatos will casually suggest that Luke "give it to Simeon, if you'd like."

These two both love taking care of others. Can you imagine how often they just try to out-spoil the other? I think it would occasionally end up in arguments that are basically just "sit down, and let me take care of you for a change."

Barbatos would be the least comfortable being taken care of because he's a demon. Being doted on by an angel. That's weird, right? He feels incredibly unworthy.

These two could flirt back and forth so well.

Barbatos would get extremely flustered if Diavolo commented on how wonderful it is to see a respectable demon such as Barbatos and a regarded angel like Simeon getting along so well, and that it gives him hope for the future between the Devildom and the Celestial Realm.

This is kind of angsty, and I don't remember if Barbatos and Simeon actually met before the war, but I have this thought (maybe a future story idea if I decide to lean into ships or something) that while Diavolo was enamored with Lucifer, Barbatos took a liking to Simeon. Actually, it was initially just an interest in the angel whose cooking skills could almost compare with his own. Then he realized how similar they were and how well they would get along. I just imagine younger Barbatos thinking hoping that when the war came around, Simeon would fall with Lucifer. Selfishly, he wanted the opportunity to even just be around Simeon. When that didn't happen, Barbatos was silently crushed but he carried on. He held his excitement the entire time when he first heard that Simeon would be one of the exchange students, and he was even more delighted when Simeon treated him with kindness.

[ppushable]

of course we'll be okay

jean kirschtein x fem reader / longfic / chapter wc: 10 167

1 - resigned delusion

masterlist

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I can't remember my name. Civilization is wiped and the future is bleak. The zombies are here.

But it's not all that bad. It's a little selfish to think like this, I know, but I can't seem to have it any other way.

My name isn't a big deal. As for the memories, well, I've made better ones, with people I really care about, and who I really hope care about me, too. And how can you expect me to care about a society I don't even remember, or a future I've never imagined? Okay, now that was selfish.

---

No matter how terrible things may seem, I always end up reminiscing. Nostalgic for the days when I lived so freely, when my only care was if I would come home alive. When I was swarmed by people who really, really cared about me.

When the two of us were stuck to each other, inseparable, through hell and back.

If I could make one wish, it wouldn't be to change the past, but to have never experienced it at all.

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

ao3 tags:

Zombie Apocalypse / Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse / Slow Burn / Slow To Update / mc is awkward as hell / at first / no y/n / POV First Person / im sorry if this is a mess / somewhat canon compliant / Sad Ending / if we ever get there / Reader-Insert / Angst / no beta author is friendless and hesitant / Fluff / Coming of Age / Blood and Gore / Zombies / Modern Era / Nonbinary Hange Zoë / Amnesia / Amnesiac Reader / Character Development / Cross-Posted on Wattpad / Enemies to Lovers / Enemies to Friends to Lovers / Jean Kirstein Being An Asshole / morally grey zeke yeager / Other Additional Tags to Be Added / side marco bott/reader / only in the beginning rlly / Forced Pregnancy

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

i've been thinking about writing this for a really, really long time. so i began. and then i started thinking about posting it. there's not much more to say without full-on rambling, but i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoy writing it. at least, i hope i didn't waste your fanfiction time. there are so many amazing stories out there that i took inspiration from. (the last of us is not one of them)

some things to note;

there will be violence/gore/injuries

and angst

and fluff

and dumbass shenanigans

the story might be long and convoluted because i'm not too sure what i'm doing

warnings will be added before the gnarly chapters

things are subject to change! mostly the tags, but nothing too major.

without further ado ♥

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

Above hangs an unfamiliar ceiling, corporate drop tiles, harsh light cutting hard shadows on its rigid surface.

“Hello, Ostrich!” That sharp voice cuts a line straight through my ears. “How are you?”

The words that come out of me are slurred, half-baked. “Good, how about you?”

“You’ve slept in. The school bus left twenty minutes ago.”

“What?” The heels of my palms sink into the foamy mattress as I push myself up and a nasty static builds in my head. 

“That sure got you up, eh?”

Green and white checkers line the laminate floor below, blinding white sunshine bouncing off its waxed and perfect surface into my fresh eye. Even as I try to blink away the ensuing dark blue blotch, the squares persist in the corners of my vision. 

That horrendous thing was there yesterday, too. 

Yesterday? What was I doing yesterday? I was here, wasn’t I, in the same room with the same pockmarked ceiling and the same sun and the same green and white. In that little instance in time in this room, in this body, under these blankets, my entire life happened. Before yesterday, there was nothing. 

Nothing? What am I talking about?

The person at my side raises a mushroom into a light beam. Motes of dust dance around the fungus, giving it a heavenly quality despite its globby and wrinkled appearance. “Look at this. You don’t think it’s poisonous, do you?”

“Professor Hange.” 

“Maybe I should feed it to, uh.” Their grip on the spout loosens and it falls with a pitter-patter. The face behind comes into focus: squarish goggles, hawkish nose, elastic mouth. “What did you just say?”

I rest a hand against my face at the sacrifice of stability. “Professor—”

Hange shoots up with a hard clatter as the milk crates they sat on are knocked over. “Shut up! Did you just— you— I thought—” They give up on words. “No!” And out comes a deep laugh. “No way!” 

They scramble to the other side of the room — it only takes a few steps — to a folding table pressed against the wall, plucking out a pen and paper with a crisp flourish. 

A knock comes from the open doorway at the foot of my bed, catching both of our attentions — it’s a middle-aged woman holding a stack of blankets. We lock eyes and she smiles, a movement that squishes the corner of her eyes into pleasantly deep wrinkles. Something compels me to return the gesture — and I will, probably, when the room stops tilting. She speaks. “Everything okay here? I heard something fall.” 

Hange doesn’t allow a huff of breathing room. “She remembered! Me!”

Her brows shoot up. “Really?” And the smile deepens. “See, I knew it was only a matter of time—” her gaze wanders to the paper— “what is that?”

Hange drums the notes with their fingertips, the sound strangely calming, like rain against a car window or grease simmering on a quiet night. “Paper.”

“For what?”

“Scientific observation.”

“No.”

The professor’s body deflates like a wilting flower and makes a sound like one, too, if wilting flowers could speak. “But I need to observe.”

Instead of thoughts, there lives a school of deep-sea fish in my head — too slippery to snag, pin down, and comprehend, but pretty to skim over and lose concentration. Every once in a while there’s a flash as one fleetingly separates from the herd, only to merge once more into the flickering storm, into itself. Pretty. The air swirls with nature’s sparkles. 

Where am I? Who am I? Why am I sitting on a bed, watching these two bicker? Why am I even on a bed at all? Where’s my mother? 

“Professor, from what I’ve heard, she just woke up. Couldn’t it wait a bit? At least make a decent first impression!”

“But it’s already—”

“Professor Hange Zoe! As a functional, responsible adult you should know—”

“Who said I was responsible? Yesterday I—”

“Um!”

The yammering terminates as both sources turn toward the origin of the disruption, me. What the hell am I thinking? “Sorry.” Sitting up is hard, especially when you’re sweating bullets in front of a crowd. I lean against the headboard. “Where am I?”

They share a glance, the new arrival’s notably pointed. “I’m trusting you with this.”

Hange beams. “Alright. Let’s get started with introductions, then.” With fierce velocity, their hand smacks their hollow chest (crumpling the paper within). “As you know, my name is Hange Zoe! I used to be a professor, but now I’m head of research. I believe we met yesterday, though I’m not sure how much of it you remember.” It whips to the side. “This lovely lady is Mirabel. She’s… she helps clean up sometimes.”

Said person carefully purses her lips. 

“To answer your question, we’re in a bathroom. Not just any bathroom! A bathroom of Shiganshina mall, or what we like to call, Shiganshina branch. Well, it’s more of an outpost than anything else, but it’s perfectly safe! You’re always welcome to leave, of course, but I personally don’t recommend it.” The last few words are muttered as an aside. 

“What?”

They continue. “By the way, there’s been a new virus going around.”

Covid?

Hange pulls their goggles into forehead territory. I’ve never seen their eyes before. “It’s probably not what you’re thinking — this virus I speak of is more contagious and much more deadly than anything we’re seen before. In fact, the whole world was shut down because of it, and nobody knows how! Rather, nobody’s able to think that hard anymore.” With a whirl, they sift through a pile of paper on the table. “This new virus… is so cool!” And they plop a blinding-white sheet on my lap. “So exciting!”

It’s a human diagram, complete with label lines and scribbled descriptions. If I focus, I can make out the words…

“It’s not something you wanna contract. A lot of us, firsthand, have seen the effects of it.”

When I try to flip the paper, it splits into two. There’s two pages. This one has the same person, but looks as if he was put through a meat grinder. 

“The effect of zombification.”

The single eye of the diagram stare at me. “Did you draw this?”

“No, it was my associate. Quite talented, isn’t— wait, that’s not the important part. Did you hear the part when I said ‘zombification?’ Like, as in zombies?” 

“Zombies?” Disappointingly, there’s no more pages. “I didn’t know they were real.” The zombie’s torn-up skin is beautifully shaded, hair clotted, teeth stained, eyes glassy, backbone knotted and humped and jutting into different directions. It’s handsome, even, in the same way an antique end table or fantastical map might.

From the background, Mirabel: “Maybe you shouldn’t have started with the virus thing.”

“You’re right… I reckon I have something that’ll jog the memory. Wait here.”

She clucks like a hen and then turns to me. “Are you all right, dear?”

The corner of the page is crimped, and the world comes back to me: heat under the blanket, tartness in my mouth, a tang of pain where my spine meets wood. “Ye– yes, ma’am.”

“You’re not cold, are you? Or hungry?”

“No.”

“Thirsty?”

“No, thank you.”

“Are you hurt?”

Slow. “I feel slow. Sorry, I’m not really sure if I’m saying anything that makes sense.”

“You’re only just waking up.” Warmth lands on my arm — her hand snuck up on me while I focussed on her face. “You— you’ve been in a bit of a coma of sorts for a while. Give it time, dear.”

“What are those blankets for?”

Mirabel looks taken aback and shifts the pile of blankets in her opposite arm around her body. “These ones?” As if there’s another stack of linens laying around that I’m referring to. “They’re for the children. Well, I suppose they wouldn’t be children to you.” A small, rolling chuckle. “They’re all around your age, including my son.”

“Aren’t you a bit young to be a mother?” 

“Ha!” she chortles, landing a side eye. “Charming little one, aren’t you? Ha!”

I half-shrug, awkward. I don’t know why I said that. “What’s he like? Your son.”

She puffs out her nose and shakes her head. “He can test my patience sometimes, that brat. You wouldn’t know it when you see him, but he used to be the sweetest thing.” She places the blankets on the bed, burrows into her back pocket — she’s wearing skinny jeans — and pulls out a sticky-looking wallet. She fiddles with it until a tongue of photo sleeves waterfall out like something out of a cartoon and points to the top one.

It’s Mirabel — younger Mirabel — seated with a hay-haired toddler with a jelly bean face and a beam stretching ear to ear. “His favourite food is veggie omelet.” She eases into a smile as well, as if the mere sight of the image sucks her back to that day a decade or so ago. 

I wonder who took the photo. “Cute.” Because what else am I supposed to say?

Her eyes flick from the wallet to my face. “I’m glad you think so, but there’s a reason he’s never had a girlfriend.”

“What?”

“What?”

Down the column of photos is another rendition of her son, evidently a more recent one, taken in his adolescence: middle-parted hair affixed with an illegal amount of gel, a petulant leer, smug lips a hair-length away from curling into a bonafide shit-eating smirk. “I meant his, uh, kid picture.”

“Of course, dear.” 

For the first time, I feel awake. 

Mirabel lets free a dainty laugh and makes herself at home on my bed. “Oh, I’m just teasing you. Don’t look so frightened! You’re like a fish.”

I blink away the stinging in my eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Hm.” The giggle subsides into a curve of the lips. “You’re sweet. I never really got the chance to properly speak to you in the past, but now I can see why Hange takes such a liking to you.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yes,” she responds, but her head tilts to the side a bit like she’s confused, or about to drop a bomb. “I… do believe you’ll see a great deal of things today, things you might not understand at first, but I want you to remember. Be kind to yourself, and be kind to others. Especially the children. Please be kind to them.”

Where did that come from? Against my better judgment, I want to ask.

“Hange debuts!”

Mirabel kind of falls into herself and the androgynous terror returns, fist clenched and waving like a weapon. “Catch!” And it splays open.

A small something glimmers in midair before manifesting as a sharp pain on my collarbone. “Ow!”

“I told you to catch.”

The thing is hard, and made a thunk when it hit. One hand reaches to rub the surely future bruise as the other rummages through the folds, searching. The professor plops on the other side of the bed as my finger finally catches and raises the object: a small metal plate swinging off a beaded chain. “A dog tag?”

Sinking onto their elbow, Hange beams. “You like it?” Yeah, just make yourself at home.

“It’s pretty cool.”

“I was expecting a bigger reaction.”

The plate slowly rotates on its string, revealing engraved letters. 

0009

MARLEY

– – – 

The bottom line’s missing.

“Do you remember this?” Hange leans forward, teetering dangerously on their arm. 

“Am I supposed to?”

“Interesting.” They pull out a pad and pen from nowhere, letting their chin hit the mattress, and jots down the word “Interesting.”

“Interesting?” I echo.

“It was on your neck when we found you.” They draw an imaginary line around their neck.

I look at the silver-grey pendant again, this time through a film of scrutiny as if focussing harder can unlock some ancient hidden memory. It doesn’t.

“Can I ask questions now?” Hange whines. 

Mirabel’s eyes roll, then rest on mine. “What do you think?”

“Me?” She nods. “I don’t see a problem w—”

“Great!” They heave ramrod straight and flip to a new page in the notepad. “For starters, tell us your name.”

My jaw unhinges. Hange looks on, wide-eyed, awaiting an answer that will never come. My name, my name. Just answer this simple question. Tell them your name.

“I can’t.”

The floodgates are open now. I’m scrambling for even an iota of memory that belongs to myself, that defines me, that makes me my own person, but there’s nothing there. It’s like trying to see something that’s just too far away to see, or too small to focus on, something that I can touch but never, never feel. It’s not fair, because those memories belong to me. I can feel them. They’re right there! But the more I reach, the closer I’ll get. Isn’t that right?

What’s the last thing I can remember? The sad-looking mushroom? No, before that. Hange, shoving pebbles in their mouth? No, that happened yesterday. Mirabel with worry on her mouth and shaking my shoulder? No, that’s now. 

“Yo! Little amnesiac?”

“Hello? Are you okay?”

And just like that, I’m back. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t do it.”

She smiles, but the concern is still there. “It’s okay, dear, don’t force it. Nobody is angry. It will come in time.”

Hange is right beside her. “Okay, but can you force it a teeny bit? Umph.” Mirabel elbows them hard. “Okay, fine, next question.” They tap their temple, crimping strands of shaggy, brown hair. “Now, what’s the last thing you remember?”

Yesterday — again, yesterday! — I was awakened as Hange barged in with a small velvet sack and spilled its little circular contents onto the green and white. Before that, I was looking at the ceiling, and before that, my eyes were closed. Before that… 

“I don’t know. Yesterday, my eyes were closed, and then I was looking at the ceiling, and then you came in, Professor, and spilled some rocks on the ground, and put them in your mouth. Before that, though, I can’t—” My hand runs up my cheek, onto my forehead, fingers weaving through strands of hair as if trying to scoop the brain encased within. “There’s nothing.” My other hand comes up too, and they squeeze. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

They fall silent. “Do you want to hear a story, Ostrich?”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Good question,” they smirk, pulling their goggles back on. Rising to their feet (and making that side of the bed spring up), they clasp their hands in the crook of their back, straightening with newfound importance.

“Long ago—” Mirabel cringes and stands up as well— “there existed a hotel named the Ostrich owned by one John Jarman and his wife, Mary. This hotel was very, very special, as it was the site of over sixty murders — notably, murders of very rich people. These killings were conducted by none other than the Jarmans themselves. 

“When they got a rich visitor, Sir Jarman would call out to his lady.” Their voice reaches a comical low. “‘Honey, there’s a fat pig here if ya want one.’ To which his wife would reply—” now their voice turns up several octaves— “‘Okay, honey, just put it in the sty till morrow!’ 

“So they’d butter the guest up and put him in a special room right above the kitchen. And when all was quiet in the night… Bam! The floor opened up, the bed tilted backwards, and he’d be dropped in a vat of boiling oil. Have you ever had chicharrones? After that, the corpse was stripped of anything valuable and thrown into a river. And by the morning, it was like he was never even there. 

“But one day the Jarmans made a fatal mistake — their eyes grew bigger than their brains. For they tried to go after a particularly popular and wealthy man and got caught when people noticed his horse wandering around.” Curling their lip in… scorn? They continue. “Do you know why I named you after this hotel?”

I’m full of dead, fried rich people? “Why?”

They lightly tap one of their lenses. “Because John and Mary are such boring names.”

“You would have named me John?”

Their hands fly to their hips. “Well, with that attitude, little missy, I just might!”

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

The two of them deemed my condition — both mental and physical — up to par to go out into the big, wide world. 

Shiganshina is a hollowed-out shopping mall. Brightness radiates in from the paned ceiling and bounces off the white walls, keeping the palace bright and warm — a nice contrast to the cooler temperatures of dying winter. 

The mystery hallway leads into a walkway that wraps around the internal perimeter of the building’s second story, the occasional bridge connecting opposite pathways above the first floor way below. Green and white still dominate the catwalk here with only the pattern switching from checkerboard to big white squares with tiny green diamonds at every corner. Anything else would be asking too much, I guess.

Hange’s gait is easy. Mirabel’s steps are more forward and practiced. A few people pass by, but for the most part, this place is barren. Not one individual is spared from Hange’s greetings. 

“Abel!” Our procession halts as Hange locates their next victim. “You’re looking nice and groomed today. What is it, a new oil or something? How are you?” They hold out a hand in greeting.

Abel wears thick, strapped glasses over his short, blond hair. He rubs the side of his index finger along the nice and groomed scruff on his jaw. “Very well, thanks.”

“It’s a beautiful afternoon, isn’t it? The sun’s—”

“Very nice.”

“Ah.”

Abel gets right down to business. “So did you get the field notes from—”

Someone across the abyss falls with a yelp, dropping what sounds to be several dozen metal pipes. The tings echo and take too long to dissipate, but the two keep talking.

If I don’t find out what my name is, I’ll be Ostrich forever. I let my gaze wander. If anything, this place is well taken care of — it doesn’t smell terrible, the floor and walls are spotless, and the people seem alright. The person in charge of cleaning here is doing a great job — even the glass-paneled railings are crystal clear. 

Most of the stores here are occupied by random pieces of junk, but a few have their large display windows blocked out in some way or another. The one closest to me is covered by a blanket depicting some sort of house. 

Wait, not a blanket. Someone actually took the time to paint this window from the inside. 

A cabin in a field backed by a rocky cliff, chopped logs littering the area before it. The chipped (and in some places, peeling) planks holding the structure together are of the same material as a wide picnic table near the scattered logs, adorned with the various foods of the forest. There isn’t anything particularly special about the subject — the grass rolls, the apples shine, and the windows hint at nothing. But it’s empty, as if the residents just left or disappeared or vanished. As if something very, very wrong is happening. There is a stranger looking out from the window. It moves. 

Me. Me? It’s me. Oh, who is that?

“Ostrich?”

Hange bears a look of mild concern which is quickly wiped out by their usual grin. “I’ve got some business here with Abel, so you guys’ll have to continue on without me. Right, Abel?” He grunts. He’s probably the type to hide in a dark, moist corner in perpetual squat. “Try not to miss dear old Hange too much.”

Mirabel beckons me with her head. “We’ll do our best. Right?”

“Yeah.” You’re overthinking this, Ostrich. It’s just a nice glass painting. We say our goodbyes.

Constant motion and colour keep my concentration hostage on our trek. It’s fun to peek into the open windows to see piles of empty water jugs or folding chairs or construction equipment, or to read the vivid signs above them to see what could have been. A few people still litter the area, to whom Mirabel nods or says a small greeting to. It’s quiet. 

“Almost there.” 

I step a little longer to catch up to the woman as she points with her chin. She loves using her head.

“You see it?”

In a darker corner lives a store with Spencer’s graffitied on the half-drawn garage door that serves as its entrance. Brick makes up the walls. Its single, large display window hints at nothing, obscured by… clothes?

“We’re not going in there, are we?”

The place is silent. Mirabel raps her knuckles on the door before forcing it up with a metallic squeal. “Hello?” She continues inside. I trail behind.

Like the surrounding area, the interior is dim, with the far reaches of the narrow room fading to black. Though the store seems to have been emptied of its original merchandise (thankfully), it’s far from empty: soft contours of cloth line the floor, trinkets lay askew and scattered, and food wrappers glisten in small clumps. A wet dog smell permeates through every pore and crevice of my body — it’s either poorly ventilated or contains something that gives off enough scent to cancel out any fresh air.

A large platform against the back and right walls spans nearly the entire area, hanging a few feet below the ceiling. Blankets spew out from beneath makeshift curtains tied to the exposed pipes above, effectively screening it. 

Lining the walls below the platform are wired bakers’ racks, piled with clothing and miscellanea. 

It’s lived in.

“Amazing, hmm?” Aluminum screeches as Mirabel pushes and knocks over a few cans with her foot to make space for the blankets. “How quickly a dozen or so adolescents can tear through a clean room! We haven’t sent any cleaners lately in hopes they’ll do it themselves — ha! — but you can see how well that’s going. Even the dorms back in Trost are cleaner.”

Cleaners? Trost? “Adolescents?” Fearing attack, I don’t turn away from the shadowed jungle. “This is where they all live?”

“For now, yes. And it’s where you’ll be staying, as well.” Her footsteps grow a bit louder as she nears. “It seems everyone’s out right now.”

My breaths grow shorter on their own. Maybe because of the smell. “I’m staying here?” 

“Are you coming along, Ostrich?” Looks like she didn’t hear. 

“Actually, can I stay here?”

“Really?” She’s shocked. “Okay, well if you ever need help, ask anyone down in the kitchens. They’re all very nice, I assure you. I’ll be making my rounds, so I won’t be staying down there for long.”

I risk a glance and little wave at Mirabel’s silhouette, prompting her to join the black mass that is the wall. I’m not sure what to feel.

Luckily, I manage to find some sort of electric lamp. Click. A rough circle of light surrounds me, exemplifying the absolute filth of this place.

I’m staying here? As much as I try, I can’t squeeze an ounce of emotion out. It’s not that I don’t care, right? It’s just that I don’t know anything better than this. I don’t remember a better time. Why am I even here? I should have gone with Mirabel. 

Of all the people I can be, I have to be a stupid one.

Maybe I should start cleaning. 

A few ungainly steps later and I’m in the hallway. I try not to stare down the next person walking down the hall as they pass. “Excuse— excuse me.” I wave.

It’s a woman with choppy copper hair. She seems weirdly happy as she points toward the requested cleaning supplies before making her way off to wherever. I don’t step on a single green diamond on my way there.

JANITORIAL ROOM

Authorized Personnel Only

It has a square, wired window too high up for me to peek inside and a door handle — not knob — which needs to be messed with a little before opening. I step in and let the door whoosh and click shut behind me.

“Nobody taught you to knock, brat? What the hell do you want?”

Every organ in my body purges as the strange little man looks up from whatever he was doing. Somehow, my voice finds me. “Clean.”

He rests his elbows on the mini table before him, the resulting wobble nearly knocking over the spray bottle and various chemicals on top. Light from the door’s window frames his face perfectly, sliced up by the cable crisscrossing its inner surface. “Speak up, or don’t bother wasting my time.”

What’s with this guy? Inching my hand to the knob — not handle — behind me, I clear my thought process and focus on the space between his steel-sharp eyes. “I would like to clean, sir. The dorms, that is. I’m here for cleaning supplies. That’s all. Sir.” Please don’t bash my head in with a spray bottle. 

“Hm.” He narrows his eyes. “New?”

New? Oh, he’s talking about me! “Yes. Sir.”

“Come here.”

What choice do I have?

He rises to his full, impressive height as I approach. I don’t need to see him to feel the force of his demands, just watch my toes. “I don’t want to see a single speck. All beds should be made, blankets should be tucked, no mop streaks, and so help me if there are any wall stains. Understood?” 

“Yessir.” Please, somebody let me out of here. 

His arm flourishes to the impressive collection of cleaning supplies on the wall. “Take what you need.”

“Thank you, sir.” If that arm even clipped me… I slink around his throne, somehow still feeling his stare when he’s turned the other way. Broom and dustpan, disposable gloves, a few garbage bags, cleaning spray—

“That won’t do.” Frozen in a squat, I listen helplessly as his startlingly heavy footsteps stop inches behind me. Plastic crinkles in the dark as the man snatches something near my ear. “You need thick gloves, that thin shit won’t do. And here.” Somewhere near the end of the room is a clatter and a thump. “Nobody worth their weight forgets the bucket. And—” another thump— “Scrub Daddy. Unless you want to scrub the grime with your teeth?”

Scrub Daddy? Nothing comes out when I open my mouth, so I force-clear my throat. “No, sir.” The bucket is shoved into my arms — I barely catch it in time — as he breezes past, taking up his throne once more. “Thank you, sir,” I say to the air.

“One last thing,” he juts as I clear his desk, making my cells disintegrate for a moment. A mystery object lands in the bucket.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Out.”

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

I start by picking up every non-garbage item (as far as I can tell) and tossing them on the big shelf by the window, then bagging the actual garbage with the gloves. The broom takes care of the dust and dirt between the hardwood and under the collection of bakers’ racks — it puffs up thick, so I’m eternally grateful to the janitor for the last-minute bandana mask. At least, it’s what I think the white cloth is for. If it’s a loincloth or something I just might hurl myself to floor one. But why would he give me a loincloth?

Then comes the task of cleaning the platform. This entails lobbing up the lantern and praying it won’t break, the incredibly perilous trip up on a wobbly ladder which will probably tip or break or be the catalyst to the end of my short life, pushing out an absolute jungle of futons, sleeping bags, quilts, pillows, and other horrifying objects, and actually falling off but landing safely but shaken onto the teeming pile. I push it all out, onto a pre-cleaned portion of the hall. 

Finding no water anywhere, I manage to flag down another passerby who directs me to some sort of pulley system that brings up tubfuls of water. It also seems to mutter and sing. Strange. I lug one in, fill the bucket, scrub the walls until I run out, and repeat. I do this again with the mop on the floor, making sure to get rid of any streaks. 

My whole body burns but still comes the reassembly process. Using the mop handle, I beat the devils out of the pile in the hallway before lugging everything back up on a borrowed stepladder. Everything’s out of order — that’s someone else’s problem.

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

At some point Hange checks in and drags me out to the now-dark mall. I didn’t even notice the room darkening as I worked. It was strangely therapeutic. 

It’s different at night. The whole place would be in black if not for the periodic solar lights stuck to the walls, ceilings, and support beams, basking us in yellow and white. 

“I don’t know how, but you did it!” Their glee is evident as we snake through the now-empty platform, hands clasped, feet pounding polished concrete. “Levi’ll love it. The cadets’ll love it! Hell, maybe we can even squeeze a  ‘good job’ outta the Comm– never mind, that’s pushing it. Whatever! We’re almost there.”

“Professor, I left the supplies—” 

“Shut! We’re here.”

“But—”  

My arm wrenches to the side, followed by my body, as the leader shoulders through an emergency exit. My back burns. A film of darkness lays over my eyes, the plopping of our steps more prominent than ever. Another second and my legs will give out.

Hange pushes through another door, this one requiring a little more strength. Moonlight. The earth, sparse and grassy, far below. Something sharp biting through my slipper socks and cold breezing in through the leg holes of my dusty pyjama bottoms. Reflexively, I suck in a stabbing, frosty lungful of air that billows out in a big puff, steam engine style. The smoke clears to reveal two silhouettes against the cloudy sky.

“Surprise, you two!” The professor claps the painful divet between my shoulder blades. “Meet our newest installment. You might know this one already.” They drive me forward, my lazy steps doing little to deter the action.

The two are easy to tell apart — one is a smiling, freckled unit and the other is glum and fluorescent-eyed. I would go blind if I stared too long (he’d pluck my eyes out). Both have dark hair and grow more menacing with each reluctant step.

Bright-eyes speaks first. “Professor Hange!”

“Woah, Professor!” the tall one exclaims almost simultaneously. “Isn’t it a bit cold for just pyjamas?”

“She’s fine.” Their head pops into view. “You’re fine, right? Levi will kill me if someone gets sick.”

Pushing my cold legs together, I nod. “It’s a beautiful day.”

“No way,” Tall chuckles, already undoing his coat. “It’s too cold.” The zips of his waterproof cloth don’t drown out his voice as he shrugs it off. “You’ll be needing this more than me.” He finally sheds the garment, handing it over. 

For me? “Thank you.” 

“No problem. I’m actually very weather resistant. You might be surprised.” He beams with the heat of a weighted quilt on a winter morning. Maybe I don’t really need this coat.

But a sudden chill sobers me and it’s on in an instant.

“What’s up with this?” the smaller one asks, waving in my general direction. 

Hange shrugs. “Started to remember. All good. Okay, I’m done here.” Hange half-stumbles back to their other foot that wedges the door open. “I’ll get back to business, then. See you, Ostrich.”

“See you,” I mutter. 

And with a screech, they’re gone.

Tall doesn’t waste a moment. “So, it’s Ostrich! It’s nice to finally see you walking around.”

Starry-eyes lowers himself to sit criss-cross, opting to stare into space through the metal grate railing. 

“Thanks, it’s… nice. Walking around and all.” What am I doing here.

With an amused breath, he tilts his head. “You don’t remember us, do you?”

Not meeting his eyes, I shake my head. 

He brings forth his big hand. “I’m Marco. My friend over here is Eren.”

He’s smiling again. Our hands meet — his is rough around the edges and warm, even the dark band around his finger, and I release it a bit too quickly. “Hi, Marco. Eren.” Something about this meeting kills me. 

“Alright, well, hey, sit down, Ostrich. You’re one of us, you know.” Marco plops down and taps a nearby cushion. “How are you feeling?”

I sit. It’s cold. “That’s a good question.”

“Yeah… I realize now it’s pretty dumb.” His freckles are all messed up as he scrunches up his nose. 

My focus switches between the far-away ground and the plaid cushion I’m on. “Yeah.” Then snaps back to Marco’s face. “Wait, no. I’m not saying your question was dumb, I’m just— it’s—”

His short laugh cuts me off. “Relax. You don't need to be nervous.”

“Okay.” This mouth of mine. It’s a death trap. 

Marco’s fingers pick at the spaces between the metal. “So, how are you liking Shiganshina so far?”

I rub the sleeves of the coat together. Zip, zip, zip. Why did he give this to me? “It’s nice. Hange is nice, the people are… nice. The view is nice from here.”

“You’re allowed to say bad stuff, too,” he pries half-jokingly. 

“I don’t like the dorms.”

“Ah, there we go.” He stretches backwards. “Yeah. Nobody does, really, but it’s the only room with heat. It’s liveable.”

Eren snorts, his first real contribution to the conversation. “Stop lying to yourself. Everyone hates it.”

“Okay, yeah, everyone hates it.”

Is now a good time to say that I cleaned them? I don’t know how to do it without sounding arrogant. Is it arrogant? It’s quiet now, but for how much longer? I should just step up and say it. It would make them happy. No, it wouldn’t. Yes, it would.

“Anyways,” Marco breezes, “how many of the others have you met?” 

“Others?” I respond dumbly.

“The other cadets. The other teenagers, if you will.”

Oh, the children. “I haven’t.”

“Then you’ll be meeting them all. Tonight!” He drums his fingertips on the metal. “Everyone’ll be back tonight, bar one guy. But I can introduce you to him myself.”

What. “How many people? I mean, if you don’t mind.” As if knowing can make tonight sound even less appealing. 

“Uh, ten? There’s me, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Eren-Mika-Armin…” With every entry, he puts up a finger. “Reiner and Bert, Ymir, Christa, and Annie. That’s, what…” He looks at his fingers, lost. 

Every name drags me down an inch or two. “Thirteen, including me.”

“Right. Wow, there’s a lot of people!” Marco puts his hands away and pauses, brownish eyes drilling into mine. “Hey, don’t be nervous. Everyone’s really nice, I promise. And we’ve all met you in the past.”

Again with that. It’s like everyone’s in on a secret inside joke that only I don’t know, except that inside joke is me. 

But he’s so very easy to trust, even though we’re strangers. As long as he’s there with me, it can’t be too bad… I squish into his coat and try a smile. “Okay.” You cheesy fucking bastard. Woah, potty mouth. 

He smiles too, and I don’t have to try anymore. “But I have to warn you, it can get a bit loud sometimes.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

Hands springing to life, he straightens to the point of tipping back. “You have no idea!”

Sensing Marco’s incoming story, my smile becomes toothy.

“Shut up!”

Like an anvil, Eren’s hushed yell pulverizes our talk. He points at something he’s looking at, prompting Marco to stand. I follow suit.

The balcony overlooks some sort of large garden with alternating lit and shadowed rows of ridged dirt, garden tools, and the rare green smudge that indicates growth. All is surrounded by a tall ring of trash composed of cars, construction fences, broken skids, metal railings, rocks, or anything, really, that can stand on its own and keep anyone or anything out. The pale dirt ends in grass and trees some way beyond the barrier. 

“Another one.” Marco squats to jot some ink onto paper.

“Another what?” An invisible chill runs through the area, making the leaves rustle and shift the dappled pattern of light and shade they cast. Nothing’s there. 

And then my shoulder and cheek are encased in warmth as Marco gets real close and aligns his line of vision with my own. “Right there.” I feel the voice more than I hear it. His pointing finger ends at a spot where dirt and grass meet. “See?”

Where’s he pointing? Marco’s close. Wait, where is he pointing? I’m about to ask again when a sudden movement ends my straying — a pale branch, creeping, wobbling forward from beneath the silvery blades. 

Hand.

Twiglike fingers drag and push into the dirt, joints bending backwards. The attached arm contracts, presumably dragging forward a body. Despite its horrendously bony characteristic — even from this second- or third-floor view, I can easily make out the double-beamed support of the forearm — it keeps scraping forward. Closer. Every inch pulls the blood down to my feet. 

“Third crawler tonight. Wonder what’s up with that.”

The person wears nothing. Something about the distance or lighting gives whatever skin isn’t torn up or filthied a washed-out hue.

“Maybe there’s a bear.”

The hand jerks forward again, disregarding rocks or twigs, shakily pulling the body into view. That is, the head and one side of the torso.

Where’s the rest? Why is nobody doing anything? Why can’t I? Doesn’t that thing need help? What does its skin feel like? How long? How long until it touches me?

“You wanna get the pager this time, Eren?”

“Yeah.” 

Foliage and deep red blood decorate the loops and sacs that bulge and trail out of the chest cavity, the surrounding ribs prominent and hanging by whatever holds ribs together. The creature shudders, loosing a few organs with a sickening swell. It persists.

Click-click. Click. “Drunk bastard’s asleep!” The statement is followed by a series of loud bangs that rattle our cage and resonate in my teeth. “God-fucking-damn it. Hannes. Wake up. Hannes!”

“Don’t, Eren. He’s pretty much out of commission anyways.” 

“No shit! Should I go down?”

“No rush.” With a final rattle, a clothed arm obscures my view. 

“Hey.” A pale blur which turns out to be a waving hand belonging to Eren catches my focus. “Your ears. Plug them, or something.”

Marco’s elbow clears the railing. He holds a lengthy rifle with its butt against his shoulder and his cheek along its length, a single saucer-wide eye trained on the target. 

I didn’t even notice he left my side. 

He hisses — in or out, I couldn’t tell — before the air blasts into pure noise. 

Sometime in the aftermath, my legs decide to sit me down. Marco (and, after a final glance into the forest, Eren) turns his attention towards me, his words completely lost to the high-pitched din but his actions clear as ever — reaching out as if to cuff my ears, shrinking back, looking sheepish. “Sorry,” he mouths. Once again, he points at the figure with something like pride. From this angle it’s apparent that its head is imploded; I prefer to stare at the shockingly good marksman with the sanest grin I can muster.

“Did you hear the part when I said ‘zombification?’ Like, as in zombies?”

No, this isn’t happening. I’m dreaming, that’s what. Of course. 

Granted, this feels all to real. The human brain is a marvel of nature, isn’t it? Can’t wait to wake up.

The two engage in strained conversation of flurrying hand movements and exaggerated pronunciation, resulting in Marco waving goodbye and going inside. The remaining pair of us sit together in the high-pitched eee until it dissipates into the non-silence of nighttime. 

“So.” Eren shuffles his feet closer to him, knees in his arms. “Can you hear now?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess it’s your first time seeing one.”

Seeing what? Say the word. “Yep.”

Skimming over the corpse, he wrings his hands. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

Eren worries his mouth as if sucking off some goo on his teeth, and suddenly blurts, “I hate it.”

Zombie. You’re imagining it, Ossie, tomorrow you’ll wake up in that room again and forget everything. “Hate what?”

“What do you think?” He waves at the mall. “This. And everything else. Those things. They ruined everything.” A telltale waver slips into his speech. “Everything we do is dictated by them. I hate it. I mean. Have we ever really had anything?” 

Like a long-winded siren, the boy’s volume gradually increases. Sirens mean danger. 

“Is it that bad?” 

Something snaps quietly. “We’re living like fucking livestock here, don’t you realize that? I thought your head’s better now, so why can’t you see that it’s not supposed to be okay? Our life is confined to these walls—” here he whips out his hand at the aforementioned wall, the motion rippling through his torso— “and the whole world outside is lost! Lost! Everything! They took everything from me! From us! And you’re just gonna accept that?”

Is he always like this? A walking time bomb? My body weight shifts forward as if to spring on my feet. “Eren—”

“No.” 

With the piling pressure his eyes grew from a smolder to a bonfire, ravenous in a forest of decay. 

But in the same way, it’s almost childlike. Was it the same sense of anger? Frustration? Invisibility? Innocence? It’s probably not that deep. “Yes?”

“You don’t remember it, so you wouldn’t understand.” He doesn’t try to hide his distaste. “But they’re not… supposed to be here. It’s— we are. It’s our world. You get it? They took it from us. Took our plans, our dreams. Our families.” Stiff-fisted and tight-jawed, he continued. “I hate them. They need to be eliminated. You get it? I’m…”

He gathers himself. 

“I’m gonna do it, Ostrich, myself or otherwise.” I slip into his eyes. “Every last one of them. I’m going to kill them all. Not sparing a single one… I’m gonna kill them all.” 

And I fall. “What's stopping you?” 

Those creatures with broken ribs and beautiful hair. Let him do as he pleases with them. It doesn't concern me. Soon I’ll wake up. I’ll wake up. 

He oozes into a more comfortable expression as the door bursts open behind me. “Alright, so the Hannes problem is taken care of,” Marco announces. “You should come inside, Ostrich, there’s someone I want you to meet. Actually, Eren, you should go, too. I’ll keep watch for a while.”

Someone to meet? 

Eren’s expression lapses into annoyance. “What happened to the two-person protocol?”

“It’ll be brief.”

“What’s it about again? Think you forgot to mention that part.” 

“You’ll see when you get there, he’s waiting just outside the inner door.”

Back to Eren. “Whatever.” He leans to one side as he gets up. “Let’s go.”

The returnee holds open the door, flashing a small smile as I cross. Cheeky bastard. 

I’m joking.

Eren holds open the second door behind him, flashing a small glance to make sure it doesn’t close on me. I mutter a quick thanks as we stand, seeing… 

Nothing. 

“There’s nobody here.” The boy sifts through his hair. “What the hell, Marco?”

The wall behind us booms thrice — I flinch — and yells, “Eren, is that you?”

At this, he brings up his other hand and drags them both down his face with a drawn-out groan. “What the hell, Marco?”

I nearly touch his shoulder. “What’s going on?”

“Wait, who’s that?” the wall — rather, the person inside — hollers. “Eren, you’re sounding pretty feminent today.”

“Connie, what the hell are you doing in there?”

“Woah! He’s back!” The wall cackles. “So, uh, I need help.”

Marco, you cheeky bastard. 

With a sigh, Eren’s hands drop. “Ostrich, this is Connie. Consider yourself lucky you don’t remember his face.” His next words are forced through his teeth. “Connie. Introduce yourself.”

“Wait, it’s you, Ossie?” Something hard hits another hard thing. “Ow! Ossie, it’s me, Connie! Remember me? Handsome face, Greek physique? Connie?”

I smile at the flat surface. “Hi, Connie. Sorry, I don't remember you.”

“Aww.”

“Come out to introduce yourself,” Eren grunts, leaning against the wall. 

“Well, that’s the problem, señor. I can’t.”

“What?”

“I’m stuck.” 

“Just get out.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Cuz I’m stuck.” 

If looks could kill, the plaster would have a smoking hole with the wall inhabitant’s crisp body in the middle; intervening at this point just might save Connie’s life. 

“Uh, Er— uh. Let’s just get him out?” 

With a deep breath, he nods.

What am I supposed to do now? Eren looks on expectantly. “Connie.” It’s so weird, saying that name out loud. I hold up my fist as if to knock, but decide against it. “Can you move?”

“Yeah, if I go sideways. There’s more space down this way though.” Footsteps and random bumps move in the opposite direction of the exit door.

Eren holds his impressive eyebrows derisively high. 

“You just need to get out, right?” As long as we find his point of entry, he should be fine. Right? “Where did you come in?”

“I dunno. I got lost.” Without warning, he squawks and enters some sort of hyperventilated frenzy. “Sorry, spider web. But I think there’s wind coming from over here. Wind equals good, right?” His voice fades. “Wait, you guys are following me, right?”

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

We end up in front of the janitor’s office. My visible companion clicks his tongue. 

“Before you ask, no, I’m not going in there.” 

“Aw, come on!” Connie whines. “I can’t get out myself and it’s dark and smelly in here! There’s spiders and ghosts!”

Waving the air as if brushing Connie off, Eren leans in close. He smells like plywood. “Let’s just go. Nobody’ll miss him. We can tell Marco he got out on his own.”

It’s hard to tell if he’s joking.

“I can hear you!” Bang bang bang. “I can heaar you…” Bang bang bang bang bang. “Gemme out!” 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I venture with a sprinkling of irony. Just in case he actually is joking. 

“Let me out!”

“I mean.” He glances at the spot where the noise emanates. “It’s not like he’s gonna die.”

Is he serious?

He scans my face and scratches his jaw. “Fine, we’ll get him.”

That’s better. “But we can’t really do anything if the janitor’s still inside. Can you check if he’s in there?”

“Why me?” He shoots a dour look down his nose. “Never mind.” Pushing his back flush to the door, he inches sideways until the window is nearly in line with his ear, snatches a peek, and gives a thumbs-up.

“So we just have to go in there and pull Connie out… right?”

“Actually, it’ll be better if one of us stays out here to keep watch. Take this.” Pulling up the bottom of his sweatshirt, he digs into his pants pocket and pulls out a square solar-powered light. “I’ll knock if he appears. Good luck.”

“Thanks?”

And then the door to the janitor’s closet shuts behind me once more, darkness pressing and eating up the edges of my vision. 

Thanks, Eren. After all I’ve done for you. 

I need light — how did I turn this thing on? My fumbling fingers eventually reach a soft button and push, directing light straight through my head. Great. I point the light somewhere useful. 

Rows of columns of cleaning gear, some still in their original packaging, hang from hooks extending from the white pegboard or rest on one of the numerous shelves. I didn’t see all this before — it’s like a torture chamber for dirt. A few feet from the entrance of the rectangular room is the folding table in which the janitor made his first appearance, now cleared of all equipment. “Hey, Connie? Where are you?”

“Right here.” Pointing the light upwards, I’m able to catch my first glimpse of the guy, in the gap between the top of the pegboard and the ceiling. “Hey, I can see my hand! I’m not a ghost!” He waves excitedly, hysterically even.

Until someone bashes their knuckles on the door. Not a second later the light clicks out. 

“Ostrich! C’mere!”

“Where?” I trudge dumbly toward his voice, bumping into what feels and sounds like a mop bucket and breathing a curse. No way they didn’t hear that. 

“Here!” Fingers patter on the particleboard. “Come on!”

Snippets of voice come from the entrance. No more stealth. I rush toward the opposite side of the room, tossing the light over before fumbling and grabbing Connie’s hand. It’s smooth.

“Hold on…” With astonishing force, he pulls me back.

“Woah—” I push my feet against the wall — please don’t break — hooking my other hand over. Connie grabs that too. 

The door swings open as I make it over, flip for a churning fraction of a second, and land heavily on Connie’s body. He grunts on impact just as a flashlight flicks on. 

“Hm,” says the janitor. Brightness sweeps over us on the concrete in small pegboard-sized circles. I can’t breathe; Connie scarcely takes a breath himself. Through a pinhole, his slow and crisp footsteps matches the image of his boots. He kicks the mop bucket to the side with a loud plastic grinding sound. We flinch. 

“Mop bucket fell over. Damned thing.” He drops the light somewhere and settles the mop against the wall. “You can leave now.”

“Er. Yes, Captain.” Eren. The door eases shut. 

“Captain” adjusts the light once more, straightens his throne, and sits down with a sigh. 

Slowly, almost painfully so, I roll onto the cool, grainy ground. 

Something taps my hand. Highlighted by a pockmark is Connie’s eye, hazel to the point of yellow, which swivels back away from the janitor’s room. We need to get out. As sparingly as possible, I nod, though I’m not sure if he sees it. 

We stand in silent — but shared — agony, the kind that shakes your limbs and makes the floor seem hundreds of metres down. Connie takes my hand, forming a clammy layer in between, and leads us back the way he came. We slow and separate. 

“I think we’re okay here,” he mutters, turning on the light in his other hand to reveal his massive grin and bald head. Thank god he remembered that. “Heh heh, that was a close one, huh?”

“Yeah, we nearly escaped death by bludgeoning.” I tremblingly slump against a wood support as he giggles. “That’s hilarious.”

His mood isn’t quelled. “Ohh, come on, have some humour.”

“We’re trapped, aren’t we?”

“You know.” His scalp glistens with a thousand tiny hairs as he lifts the light over himself. “Some ladies would kill for a moment alone with this handsome fellow.”

This guy serious? I’m not seeing that ‘Greek physique.’ “I’m sure.”

Gently, he lays down the torch, springs up, and digs into the pocket of his neon green and black zippered hoodie with a crinkle. “So grumpy, huh? Here.” A wrapped good is tossed into my lap as Connie falls on his ass. Inside is something squishy and dense. “It’s a Twinkie,” he explains at my probing. “I was looking for a place to hide them so Sasha can’t eat them. Don’t tell her I’m giving this to you, she’ll crucify me.” Having successfully pulled apart the top of the package, he bites the whole thing in half, pulling back to extract the sugary flesh.

“Are you sure?” The edge of the clear plastic is smooth and flimsy.

Crumbs spray from his mouth. “Just promise me you’ll stop being grumpy.”

Grumpy? I blink a few times. “Okay, I promise.” I slide to the ground too, smiling. “I’ll be nice.”

“Better be.”

My face drops. “Connie.”

He sniffs. “Relax, Ossie. Just enjoy your… freshly crushed Twinkie.” He tilts his head in fake arrogance. 

“You know, Connie, if somebody didn’t get stuck in a wall, he wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.”

“I could have left you in the janitor’s office.”

The words come out before I can stop them. “I could have left you with Eren.”

He sticks out his tongue. 

The crinkling dominates before I manage to tear open a corner of my package, opting to squeeze out the cake which oozes and cracks like a sad horse. I take the crumbly glop on my tongue. 

“Pretty good, huh?” Connie sprays. “You wouldn’t even know it expired six months ago.”

The sweet in my mouth turns bitter. “Six months,” I utter without swallowing, a line of drool threatening to spill. Bacteria and fungi spread their tiny poisonous seeds, creating rot. “That’s… fine.”

“Hey, if you got a problem with it, I’ll gladly take it off you.” He holds out a hand expectantly. 

Before he can react I squeeze the package some more. In a movement similar to his own, I scrape out the remaining pulp with my teeth and swallow.

Connie’s jaw goes slack as I chew, then shoots upward with a clack. “Okay, girlypop, okay! It’s all yours!” The statement is finished with a cackle.

“I said it’s fine, Connie,” I state, definitely spilling some this time. “A little mould won’t kill me now.”

“Yeah, if—” his eyes wander my face— “if the embarrassment doesn’t get you first!” His hysteria surges as he points. “You look so stupid right now! A lifetime’s worth of Twinkie!” He exhales more than he breathes in and soon resorts to gasping for air.

“Me?” I dart a sleeve over my mouth, though it’s already too late. “Look who’s talking!”

The filling in his mouth decorates his chin, legs, and floor. “I don’t take shade from a person named Ostrich. Gotta be the dumbest bird to be named after.”

“Well, I don’t take shade from a person named Connie.”

“Yeah? What’s wrong with my name?”

I pretend to see something interesting on the ceiling, pretend I’m not about to explode into a stupid grin. “I just think Connor is better.” 

“Okay—” he conjures the most serious face he can muster— “you’ve officially made it to my enemies list. Prepare for living hell.”

“What’re you gonna do, shine the sun off your head like a flash bomb?” Now I cackle. 

Okay, maybe that was a little bit mean. 

“Hey! This—” he jerks his hands round his head, the motion affecting his entire hunched form— “is a choice! I shave my own head ‘cuz I want it that way!”

“Okay,” I choke. “Okay, you’re bald by choice.” 

“Stop laughing!” 

“Okay. I can’t. Okay.” Pinching my nose, I draw in a breath. Then sputter into laughter. 

It wasn’t that funny, but I couldn’t help myself. Maybe I really am going mental. 

“I’ll just wait till you’re done,” Connie grumbles, but even in the dark the ghost of a smile can be seen. 

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

We start walking again a bit after — Connie’s afraid my laughing attracted ghosts.

“So, Ostrich. You’re starting to remember?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you remember me?”

“No.”

We walk for a bit more before he speaks again. “Tell me something about yourself.”

“You’re asking me, Shiganshina’s resident amnesiac?”

“Funny. You don’t need memories to have a personality, you know? You’re not a ghost.”

The air smells familiar. “You think so?”

“How about you caress my handsome face and we can both find out?”

I flick his forehead and go cold. 

Did I just do that? 

But he just claps his hand over the point of impact. “Ow! Always the head!”

“Just such a big target,” I nearly sputter. “You’re lucky I don’t call human resources on you or something.”

“Yeah, whatever. Come on, tell me. There’s gotta be something.”

“I really have nothing, Connie,” I say. “But aren’t you the one who knows me so well? Why don’t you tell me something about myself?”

His thinking cap is on. “Well, for starters, you can’t walk straight with a damn.” 

“Strike four, Connie.” 

“Four? You’re already counting the number of times I pissed you off.” He sniffs. “I knew you cared. I can’t wait till we’re all together again…” He giggles like a little girl. 

“That laugh. I don’t like that sound.”

“Relax, Ossie. I’m gonna make it happen.” He thumps his chest. “From now on, I’m gonna focus on getting you out of here. Before bedtime.” 

“Weren’t you the one begging for help earlier?”

“I’m a changed man, I’ve grown.”

It’s a little scary to get so chummy with him so quickly, even if we do supposedly know each other. Always is the small nagging organ in my body releasing its small nagging liquids, telling me to stop, that he hates me, that I’m completely embarrassing myself because this guy is fake or a ghost or clinically insane. Maybe he is. Maybe I’m embarrassing myself. Maybe I’m embarrassing him. 

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

Has it been ten minutes? An hour? It’s like the inside of this wall bends space and time. Einstein would cry.

Light in hand, Connie slows to walk beside me. “Do you remember Covid?”

“Of course! I’d always keep the tracker tab open because of how paranoid I was. I…”

All I see is white. “Holy crap, did you just remember something?”

My hand can’t block out the light. “Put that down.” 

“Think, Ostrich! Think!”

The memory is fleeting, only a wisp of the past unlucky enough to be snuffed up by me. “I’m trying!”

“Harder!”

“Please, Connie, put that away.”

“Oh.”

And with a snap, it vanishes. 

“Did you remember it?”

Blinking doesn’t get rid of the dark blotches. “No.”

“Aw, man.” He hurries to catch up to me. “But you did just remember something, right?”

“I think so.”

“Oh.”

Shuff. Shuf. Shuff…  If I’m not careful, I might blow a hole in these slipper socks. 

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it.”

No response.

“Connie? It’s alright.”

He mumbles.

Seeing him dejected like this feels wrong. “Um, you haven’t told me something about yourself, Connie.”

“I’m just a guy, Ossie, and I made you lose your only memory.”

This boy. “Connie, it’s fine. Really. I have lots of time to remember things.” 

He kicks the ground. “I know, but…”

“It’s just like you said.” Desperately, I try to remember. “It doesn’t matter if I can’t remember anything, because I’m still my own person. Right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“Tell me something about yourself,” I repeat.

He rubs his hands against each other— “Well…” —and begins to pick up steam. “So, last week we raided this beauty shop, right? And J-boy said I was stupid for doing that, and I called him a horse face, so he threw a cream tube at me. I caught it like this, right—” his arms twist in a weird way as he reenacts the scene— “and it turned out to be a hand cream. I’ve been using it ever since, and frankly, I think he’s jealous.” 

“Hand cream? Is that why your hands are so soft?”

“So you’ve noticed? Ha! I can’t wait to tell him. We gotta get back!” His pace picks up. “I’ll even let you try some, Ossie, because you’re such a good friend.” 

I just met you, but I’m glad you’re happy again. “That means a lot to me.”

“Hold this.” He suddenly stops and shoves the light. “Back up, I’m gonna do something.”

“Something…?” I step away.

Connie squats, swings forth his hands, and leaps backwards. 

I watch as he smashes his feet through the wall, slapping the cold, hard ground with his skull. 

Blap.

“Connie?”

The light reflects innumerable dust motes and the eerily still victim of fatuity. Suddenly, the dark seems a little more alive. “Connie!” His head lolls when I cuff his shoulders. “Are you okay?” Blood trickles from his nostril. “Okay, dumb question.” 

He still has a pulse — but for how long is a mystery. 

Oh shit. This is real. 

I haul him around so his head is near the hole and try shoving him out by pushing up on his ribcage. Warm and squishy… just like that zombie. My arms go a little numb as I take a quick look — first forward, then back. Dust. 

I need to focus. 

Scarce light pours in through the hole as I push — now his shoulders are out. Tiny shards of the wall crumble over his chest. Tiny, dark red shards. 

Plaster bricks. 

“Oh my god! Connie?” The ground vibrates — someone is running over from the other side. 

By some miracle of god (or Connie’s hidden genius), we’re right where we’re supposed to be.

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

gosh this chapter was clunky. (it gets worse.) for the record it was rewritten at least 5 times in every pov and tense and i've since grown tired of it. do you trust your author when they tell you that the next chapters will be better? do you? (don't)

i hope you liked it and all. i know you cant expect shakespeare on ao3tumblr but i keep thinking 'gotta be perfect gotta be perfect!' please lmk if i did anything wrong or something can be improved on. i try to get better.

please take care of yourselves

final notes: mc gets better

⊹˚₊‧ ───────── ☾ ────────── ‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 2 - little sproutling

[shower-phantom-ideas]

Danny leaves Amity Park and Earth to commit to his rile as Ghost King

Ok I can’t lie to yall it’s one am and I wanted to write danny becomes ghost king and moves to the realms but misses school so asks William Lancer to skype call him during class so he can still be there. But I got very off track. Like I think I wrote a character study of jazz? I had to force myself to stop no joke. I could write this way forever but I think it’s kinda boring to read when I write in this style.

Anyway rambling here it is

Danny becomes the high King of the Infinite Realms and tries his hardest ti balance it all with his human life but it’s too much. He can’t keep up. His parents start putting more and more pressure on him. Plus their hatred if Phantom and ghosts has gone from a 10 to one hundred. Jazz thinks their obsessed, like their in love but with the idea of destroying Phantom. She no longer tries to give Danny a false hope of them accepting him as a halfa. Like he can’t see that. Every time she pulls him out if the kitchen, the living room, the lab. Hell every time Danny walks down the hall and one ih his parents join him, theres Jazz. As if summoned. Shes made it her mission to keep Danny from them and when she can’t she will do her best to make sure hes not alone with then. He thinks it’s a bit extreme and secretly is so glad for it. It’s like shes telling him his feelings are justified and that hes not crazy for being scared of his parents. That he doesn’t have to have the same fear of her. Shes on his side. Shes protecting him. And it’s nice. To be the one protected for once.

So they make a plan for him to leave. The Realms arent going ti give up or go away so he might as well go there. At least if hes nit running from his new responsibilities as Ghost King then they wont have to track him down and dump it in him once it’s piled up too much to be ignored. Hes already told Jazz hes not going ti pass up the crown. Imagine the good he can do as King. Plus hes promised that if he needs any help he will ask. So she helps him go. Their parents hardly notice when Danny disappeared from their house. Their obsession, their devotion, to Phantom has completely blinded them. Jazz is only staying because she is so close to finished here so wont have ti stay long. Less than a year and she can go off to any college she wants. Her grades are proof enough that she knows she wont tied to them and their money. She will be dependent of them and make a name for herself completely unrelated to them. These monsters who have taken her parents place.

She does wish she noticed sooner. Make she could have spared Danny so much pain and trauma had she just seen the signs. It was so clear to her now that this was their path. With every passing day she should have seen what they would become. But children love their parents regardless of goodness and she wanted to, no needed to believe they would do right by Danny. That no her parents wouldnt try to turn their son into a science experiment and strap him to a table and cut him open. She so craved and longed for a normal stable family. Something she no doubt learned doesn’t exist while studying physiology. She can’t blame herself. She knows it’s not her fault. She is still a child and still loved her parents. Even now as she makes plans to leave them and never come back to them. Even now she loves them. ‘Maybe im making a mistake’ ‘am I doing the right thing?’ The doubts pour into her mind. Then she sees them or talks to them and is once again reminded of why shes doing this. She has no doubts about if she can do it. She is smart and resourceful. She can easily make it on her own with a full ride to pretty much any collage. She would earn money as a tutor still and maybe even write articles online for cash, shes already got some offers, but that little voice in her mind still nags at her that they’re her parents and they love her. Maybe they used to but she knows they only care about one thing. Their “work” or their “science” in reality it’s their obsession. Ironic how they are like ghosts with their obsession controlling them. Unable to do anything else, think about anything else, until is fulfilled. If they just achieved their goal they would let up and maybe even return to their family. Minds no longer unable to sleep due to thoughts of their target. But Jazz could never let them. The price of her loving parents is the life of her sweet little brother. What a choice for a 17 year old to make. Have the family she was promised from all the media she had as a kid, showing familys of understanding and endless love. Or lose any hope of loving parents to help her little brother have his own loving family.

The choice was clear. She would sacrifice anything for him after all. If he asked her to give up her human life and join him in ruling the Realms she would have. Hell if he asked her to become a halfa she would have. This sweet boy whos willing to give up everything for everyone else deserves at least that. The hero who is not loved for his acts but despised, hated even, by those who he protects. A crueler fate even that his whole being obsessed with protecting them. Even if he wanted to give up on them he couldnt. She doesn’t even think hes capable of wanting to give up on protecting them. His ghost obsession keeps him from it. So she will give to the giver. He deserves just that.

~~~~

[haecien]

Prankster — Y.JH | warnings - cursing, kissing

I found this cool prompt generator for ships! If ya want the link its here ;D

2/ 13

Link to the masterlist!

Pt. 2 Yoon Jeonghan

Yoon Jeonghan, how do I even begin to explain this prankster? You don't even know what is up his sleeve this time, he pulls the most predictable pranks but I always keep falling for them.

He always pulled some type of prank on the teachers every week, I'm surprised that he isn't suspended yet. " hey psst y/n. " I looked behind me to see jeonghan, I rolled my eyes at him and replied " Yeah? What do you need this time. "

He scratched the back of his head looking a bit embarrassed " Well... you know the scary teacher who's always on my back right? " I nodded my head " Yeah?... where are you going with this. " jeonghan took a deep breath

" Can you stick arround with me, I got introuble with her and I need to actually act like I've changed... maybe if in hang out with you more she would think I got more behaved? "

you felt sick of even having the thought of being seen arround him, but he seemed really genuine this time, he looked at you for a while with a sad expressed. You sighed and given into him " Fine, but on ONE condition. If you pull another one of your pranks again im ditching you. " he let out a slight giggle

" Can't promise that, ill try though " a sly smile spread across his face, you don't know whats wrong with you. You HATE him, but why are you getting so soft with him? Haha, love is werid isn't it?

A few weeks passed by and you realized he wasn't all THAT bad, sure he was a bit mischievous and a bit of a prankster but he was genuinly nice and made you laugh sometimes.

" Hey y/n, I got us some drinks from the cafeteria! You want one? " before I could even reply he cut me of " No? Okay ill have it all to myself! " " YOON JEONGHAN! " you flicked his forehead and grabbed the other drink from his hand " Oww! " he said playfully as you both laughed it off

" Ah, fuck I have to study for a test, Sorry I have to go " you felt a bit sad that you had to part ways so early, you grabbed onto his arm. " Isnt it Chemistry that you need to study for? I can help you. " you felt a little flustered when his eyes light up, he looked so happy and he quickly got out his notebook from his bag

" Whats taking you so long! Let's start! "

You both studied for hours, it was becoming late and your eyes became heavier and heavier by the second. You constantly kept yawning, Jeonghan asked if you wanted to stop but you insisted it was okay, " So, were done with Ionic and Molecular Compounds. Tell me whats the difference? ... " Jeonghan flipped through his notes and started to read out what he wrote

His voice sounded so calming and soft, eventually you dozed off into a deep slumber. Jeonghan got a bit startled and thought you had died on the spot but he placed you on his lap and didn't even move a single inch, he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear and looked at you with a smile on his face. He gave you a little peck on the forehead,

" Its sad that you won't be able to know what I'm about to say, the truth is. I lied about everything, I just wanted your attention to myself. "

Eventually you woke up to see you lying down on his lap, you looked up and saw that he had fallen asleep too. You were flustered and got up, God how long were you out for? You began to start cleaning up your stuff and placed them into there proper places

" Goodmorning to you angel. "

" Angel? What kind of nickname is that. " " The type of nickname that I gave to the person I like. "

"... Fuck you, Yoon Jeonghan. "

Cien rambles

I was giggling while writing this HAHAHA, our gentle sexy is up next👀 GOD this is so much fun to write i love it!!! Also wow I got 7 followers:D thank you so much❣❣

[sleepy-vix]

also oh my gosh there are literally no words for how proud I am of you for that joirnal entry?? I’ve been through hell and back with feeling suicidal and I clawed my way back to life starting exactly the same way but DAMN it’s so hard Yk? And it feels so exhausting and useless?? But seriously I promise it’s not. It’s okay if the actions you’re taking feel like they’re taking a long time to kick in, or it doesn’t rlly feel like YOU yet. One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to learn was to stop waiting for the feeling of peace and joy to just show up and find me, that I had to actively do stuff to help it happen and keep doing it even when it felt like nothing was happening. Sorry ik this was a ramble and I hope it wasn’t too personal but I’m sending you so much support and love and if you ever need to talk I’m here! Also im a huge Jane Austen and hamlet fan :)) keep going, im rlly proud of you and you’re doing rlly rlly well <33

AWWWWWW this means so much to me, thank you so much for telling me this. i'm so so so so proud of you too and i'm so happy for you :} it's so wonderful to hear that other people shared similar experiences but found hope in the end because it makes everything seem a little less hopeless and a little more achievable. thank you for sharing with me what you learned (waaaa i'm going to now make a journal page about things that could make me happy TvT <3)

i wish i had something more to say, a nugget of wisdom to gift you in return for yours, because you're such a star for actually reading my whole journal entry :(( it means alot to me

i honestly always thought that journal entries like that would be bothersome to my followers, but after posting that, i actually did feel a little better and more resolved and mentally clearheaded :) writing it felt like i was cutting off a piece of myself (a diseased piece, but a piece of myself nonetheless) and offering it up into the void like a naive child would bestow a glass bottle containing a whimsical message into the ocean, and i truly did not expect a response but im so happy that i did 🤍

i'll be sure to share my thoughts on hamlet and jane austen's work when i finish reading them !! :)