#i dont feel like finding new people. reaching out to anyone on the dash. doing drafts etc

[kxllerblond]

besties ykno after like 3 hours of just refreshing my dash over and over. staring at my screen. aimlessly recommend clicking on youtube. and just having no real drive to do anything and feeling this constant and underlying hum of sadness i think it's safe to say i may be a lil depressed

[maiverie]

HI DO U HAVE ANY TIPS ON STARTING A TUMBLR BLOG? like how you format your links and everything i'm new and want to start a blog but don't know how 😭😭

hi anon!!! omg sure yes I dooo!!! when I started I didn't have anyone to help me so it was literally such a shitshow lmfao so I HOPE THIS HELPS!!

— (long post below)

disclaimer: this is all based on my experience and im sure there are other users with better tips than me so DONT TAKE MY WORD FOR GOSPEL BAHAHA

(also I'm going to assume you reached out to me because you want to start a kpop writing blog and not smth else, so all these tips are obv specific to writing blogs. I also don't know how experienced u are w Tumblr so I might say some obvious things,, sorry if you already know most of these things!!)

anyway tumblr is actually really intuitive and after about two days I honestly think you'll get it (probably even within a day tbh). here are some quick steps I feel like make sense in my mind:

find a url (if you're starting a kpop writing blog,, most people seem to include the name/a reference to their bias but in my case i kinda just went w my name and played around w it until I liked it 😭 you can also search for "url ideas" in tumblr if you're having trouble!!) keep in mind you can literally change it at any point in time so don't worry about choosing the -perfect- one

set up your blog! most of the time, people have a navigation post (the pinned post where everything is linked so readers can navigate ur blog easily), a masterlist (a post that shows everything you've ever written), a wip list (a post that lists all your works in progress, so fics you're currently writing and want to publish in the near future). additionally, people have a post about themselves (like an about me section with blog rules and stuff. this is my old old one). personally, i have a carrd right now (this is mine here) and you'll find other users have one or the other!

set up your navigation post: hyperlink honestly everyone's different (btw don't worry about taking these tips too seriously bc honestly u should do whatever you want on your blog — it's yours after all!!) but I think most people include their name, pronouns, age (sometimes), timezone (sometimes) and hyperlinks to their masterlist + wip list.

how to hyperlink im sure you've done it before for school, but it's really easy! here's a demonstration — this link will send you to my navi, and this link will send you to one of my fics! to do it, you just need to copy the link of whatever post you're trying to hyperlink (three dots in the top right of the post -> "copy link"), typesomething, double click onto the word you're trying to link it to, tap the 🔗 button, and copy the link into that! (in this example, it'd look like this: something.)

how to make ur navi neat/pretty personally, I used to just search for moodboards (on tumblr) and pick 3 photos that I really liked (obviously give credit to whoever made the moodboard!). what I have now is just something that I designed but you can have one or the other, it doesn't really matter! other tips I think I'd suggest is to keep it as simple as possible; you can embellish it later but make sure it's easy to read and people can see all the links! I really like searching for "symbols" on Tumblr, and then there are cute lil symbols u can add to your post :) or just use emojis! or dashes! this might be a little ahead, but I have a tutorial on gradient text if you really care, but maybe focus on the base first :D just as an example, my moot @.hazyyu has a really pretty navi!

apply the same principles to your masterlist + wip list + about me just search for symbols, add whatever images you think look pretty, search for "line breaks" on Tumblr and there are pictures of links you can use to divide stuff up! making a carrd is easy but time-consuming (just search on YouTube "carrd tutorial")

there are other caveats to a writing blog, but those were just the basics! here are some other things I thought I could mention:

a permanent taglist is a list of people you tag every single time you publish a story/update it (for the purpose of them being notified every time you post) — sometimes people will ask u to "add me to your permanent taglist!" which just means tag them every time you post a story. personally, I have a google form for anyone that wants to be on the permanent taglist, but I didn't do that initially — I used to just wait until people sent in an ask asking to be on it and then I'd have a separate post with everyone who did. for example, this was my old one! doesn't matter whichever approach you do ^^

people also organise their blog via the hashtags I do this too! it's so much easier that way :)) for example, every time I get an ask, I tag it with "#ask" (umm a lot of people are much more creative w their tags but personally icb lmaoo — here's an example of my friend who used a different tag and it's really pretty!). if you want help with organising your blog w tags, here's an explanation I wrote a while back!

if you want help promoting your work, you should consider joining a few networks! these are basically big big blogs that reblog all your work so more people can see ur stuff ^^ here are some of the ones I'm a part of: kflixnet, enhanet, k-labels!

you'll meet other users along the way and call them your moots; most of the time this just means you interact w them a lot via asks/dms. personally I'm not really active and I kinda find it hard to keep track of a lot of moots so I stick to myself and interact w anyone that comes my way!! but bae u can do whatever u want!! go find blogs of people that seem rlly cool and send an ask and just see where it goes; just don't badger people, be nice and I think you'll pick up on sm things naturally!!!

ur blog is gna look great!!! let me know when you finish setting it up!!! I hope this helps 😋💖

[atlabeth]

nightmares - mike munroe x reader

summary: It was a deal made by two almost-friends in the early hours of the morning after the worst night of their lives, when they realized that all they really had left was each other.

a/n: so this is once again. not my normal content but ive been on an until dawn kick lately and fell in love w the characters all over again. i dont know if anyone still reads or writes for this fandom but. here u go. enjoy

warning(s): lots of cursing, canon typical violence, mentions of graphic violence/death (but nothing too descriptive), mentioned depression, insomnia, and alcoholism, some heavy themes but its hurt/comfort so it ends in fluff

wc: 4.8k

You were running.

You were running, and it was freezing — fuck, it was freezing.

You knew your surroundings; how could you ever forget? Every fucking moment on the goddamn mountain was engraved into your mind for what you assumed would be the rest of your life, an assumption that had since been proven correct.

And now, against your will, you were back. Of course you were back.

A shudder ran through your whole body as that all-too-familiar screech rang out behind you, each second of it like nails on a chalkboard in the worst way. Your lungs burned like all hell but you couldn’t stop — if you stopped, you were as good as dead.

Some part of this fucked up thing was almost funny. Humans were always boasting about how they were the top of the food chain, how they were the height of evolution. There was nothing to keep an ego in check like being hunted by a supernatural creature.

Any thoughts of bullshit philosophy were dashed from your mind as you took a hard right, nearly falling over from the sharp curve of the mountain but just able to catch yourself. Your heart was thundering in your chest, the beats nearly lining up with your sprinting. You felt an intense urge to turn around, try and gauge your chances, but the thought of slowing down for even a second terrified you. It’s not like you needed to anyways — you knew exactly what was after you.

You were nearing the end of your road, both literally and figuratively. You stumbled over a tree root, your hands splayed out in front of yourself at just the right angle to keep your momentum going and, in some feat of luck, stay upright and running.

But your luck had just run out.

Your senses were proven correct as the harrowing cliff edge came into view, and a thousand things screamed in your mind at once as your demise stared you right in the eye. You barely managed to catch yourself, very much aware that the snow falling into the void could’ve just as well been you.

That fucking screech again, even closer than before, and you whipped around as you took an instinctive step back. Your hands patted around everywhere, searching for something to defend yourself, but you had nothing. No gun, knife, even the ground around you was devoid of rocks.

You had nothing. You had nothing to defend yourself from this goddamn nightmare creature, and you were going to die.

Your eyes darted around wildly in an attempt to find something, anything, to save yourself, but there was nothing. You took another step back and felt your foot slip, your breath catching as you barely managed to save yourself with a twist and a lunge away from the edge. The shock of the ground and the cold against your skin was just enough to remind yourself that you were actually alive. Another pile of snow mimicked the fate that seemed imminent as it trickled over the side of the cliff, and you screwed your eyes shut as you tried to shut your mind up.

Think, goddammit, if you wanted to get off of this fucking mountain you had to think—

The screech that pierced through the night sky was far too close for comfort, and as your head snapped back towards the woods you swore that your heart stopped beating.

It had caught up. You were out of time you were going to die but you didn’t have anything and you were going to fucking die—

A flash of white pushed off a tree and lunged towards you, teeth bared as it emitted that horrible screech. You didn’t even have time to scream, completely frozen in place as one clawed hand reached your neck, and you braced for the moment of release.

You shot up in your bed, breathing rapid and unsteady with a barely contained cry on the edge of your lips as your hand instinctively flew to your neck. You heaved an almost strangled sigh of relief to know that your head was still attached to your body (it might’ve seemed obvious, but… your head wasn’t exactly on straight at the moment, all jokes aside) and collapsed against the headboard.

You ran your hands across your face as you tried in vain to calm yourself down, ultimately having to turn on your lamp to ease your troubled mind that there was nothing going thump in the night.

It had been this same routine almost every night — horrible nightmare, wake up crying or screaming or both, and start the day at 3 am because you couldn’t fall back asleep.

It was exhausting. You were exhausted.

You knew you couldn’t go on like this, but what choice did you have? Therapy had been mandated by the police for a certain amount of time after the incident, but… it’s not like it had helped. How could it, when no one truly knew what you had gone through?

Well… that wasn’t completely accurate.

One person knew what you were going through, and you hadn’t said as much as one word to him since that night. You didn’t really… know what to say.

Hey. I know we’re not all that close, but I’m sorry your girlfriend and all your friends were killed by a Wendigo and that I made it instead. Hope you’re not going insane with grief. I’ll send you a card at Christmas!

...yeah. You had no idea what to say to him after months of no contact.

The relationship you had with Mike Munroe was a strange one, to say the least.

None of you were the same after that night on the mountain. The horrors of the mines would be forever entrenched in your head, flashes of the Wendigos appearing every time you closed your eyes. You and Mike were the only ones who made it off, and the guilt you carried everywhere was a burden you knew you couldn’t shoulder. And even after the physical scars had faded, you knew the mental ones never would.

Sometimes you wondered how you had even managed to get involved with the group in the first place — bonds that had been made in your freshman and sophomore years had somehow managed to stay strong enough throughout the rest of high school, strong enough to cement your spot in the friend group and the yearly lodge visits. You liked them all well enough, enough to go up to an isolated mountain with them for a weekend or so, but… yeah. Sometimes you did wonder what the hell you were doing with them.

But now?

Now, you would give almost anything to hear Sam’s laugh or one of her compliments, or tease Ashley and Chris about their very obvious feelings; hell, you found yourself missing Matt’s useless football facts. And even though Emily and Jessica weren’t always the nicest, you still had managed to worm your way into their hearts. Knowing that you would never get Emily’s brutal but helpful advice or get dragged to a football game by Jessica again?

If someone had told you the difference between life-long trauma and a completely normal existence was that blonde girl with the braids in your biology class, you might’ve thought a little harder before accepting that party invite.

The days after you were rescued from the mountain passed in a daze, questions and interrogations from police never sticking for too long. And it didn’t even feel like it mattered, the way none of them seemed to believe you.

They kept you separated from Mike throughout the whole process, and you were only able to catch glances of him when you were being transferred to different rooms throughout the long process. It really was like something out of a horror movie — a group of teens go up to a lodge in the woods, and only two return with a story of unspeakable horrors — and rather than try and work out what had happened, they seemed intent on pinning the deaths on you and Mike.

As if you weren’t dealing with enough after watching your friends get murdered by the monster of another friend, the people that were supposed to be helping you were instead trying to charge you with them. If it wasn’t so fucking infuriating, it would’ve been laughable.

The worst part? You could hardly blame them.

When you took a second to listen to yourself, to what you were spouting to the police, you sounded insane. If you hadn’t witnessed it all first hand, you wouldn’t have believed yourself.

You told them to go down to the mines. That the thing that killed your friends would be down there, and they could see it for themselves.

You didn’t know if that was the right choice. Hell, you might’ve been sending those cops to their deaths. But it was the only way you could think of to get them to believe you.

(You doubted they would go down there anyways. What was the word of two crazy college kids over actual logic? Not much, you imagined.)

You were in that damn interrogation room for what felt like forever until you were finally taken to a hospital to get your wounds treated. But even in the hospital bed, police were by your side asking about what happened every day of your stay. After your discharge, you were forced into custody until they got information that they deemed satisfactory.

By some miracle, you and Mike weren’t charged with anything. The news might’ve gotten hold of your story, but you didn’t know. You didn’t want to know. You didn’t ever look at the news after the tragedy, too afraid that you would see the smiling faces of your friends staring back at you, or pictures of you and Mike with news anchors trying to talk about how involved the two of you were.

If there was one thing worse than going through hell, it was other people trying to make a profit off of your spiral.

Your friends’ families offered their condolences, but not much else. You didn’t hold it against them. Your survivor’s guilt was strong enough to know exactly why they didn’t reach out further.

(You blame yourself for their deaths, after all. Why wouldn’t they?)

It was the same situation with Mike.

Maybe you had purposefully drifted apart from him, trying to build up walls of your own so that he wouldn’t be able to spring it on you first. You assumed he hated you after what had happened, and he had every right to. You might’ve helped each other through the night, but you had no other option. Now, everyone else but you was dead — people he cared about more than you — and you just couldn’t face that.

But as you stared at yourself in your bathroom mirror, you realized that you might have to.

You looked awful.

Weeks of sleepless nights were catching up to you, appearing in the form of

hollow eyes and dark circles, along with a slight discoloration of your skin. The scars from the mountain had mostly healed, but there was a particularly nasty gash on your cheek that was still showing — it wasn’t doing you any favors in the ‘looking completely normal and sane and not severely sleep deprived’ department.

You splashed some water in your face to try and wake up a bit, but the slight drowsiness that followed you everywhere seemed to be a permanent part of you now.

(It was almost funny, in a way. You were so paranoid and alert all the time, unable to fall asleep, and yet it was all you could think about in moments like these. You wondered when irony had become such a staple in your life.)

You had tried talking to therapists, your friends, your family, even searching the internet for advice on what to do after a life changing traumatic event. Nothing had worked.

The simplest solution had come to mind more than once, but you had pushed it aside with the determination to work through this on your own. But now, staring at yourself and seeing how much you had deteriorated…

You had to go talk to the only person who would understand.

~

You had considered turning around more than once on the drive over.

Because, really, what the hell were you doing? Showing up at his doorstep in the middle of o dark thirty because— because what?

Because you had a nightmare?

He had gone through the same thing you had, probably even worse. Losing Jessica right in front of him, having to cut off his fingers to get free, spending countless hours alone, dealing with the nightmare that was the sanatorium, and then…

Well, you had been in the mines with him and Josh when it happened. There was no doubt in your mind that the scene replayed in his head endlessly, just like it did for you.

Showing up… it was going to be a mistake. You knew it was.

For all you knew, Mike had moved on already. He was stronger than you, he always had been. Maybe your presence would send him spiraling once more, or maybe it would just earn you a verbal beating like no other. Mike had always been nice enough, but the trauma you had endured was enough to turn a saint into his own worst enemy.

You didn’t know what would happen. You didn’t know anything, and as you turned down his street you regretted more than ever not keeping in touch with him. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in this situation, scrambling after your last hope for salvation after slowly killing yourself over the past few months.

But there was no chance to turn back now, because before you knew it your knuckles were rapping against his front door.

The pause between your arrival and a response was so long that you considered leaving and pretending like this never happened, but just as you began to step back the door swung open.

You didn’t really know what you were expecting, but… he was there. The only other testament to the horrors of Blackwood Pines, and maybe the only person that could help you through this.

“...hi,” you murmured, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat as you looked the personification of your shame in the eye.

Mike blinked a few times, whether to try and wake up a little or out of surprise from his visitor you didn’t know, but it was a few seconds before he responded in kind. “...hey. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around.”

You chuckled dryly as you nodded. “Yeah. Sorry for the sudden arrival. I’m, uh… I’m kind of surprised you even opened the door.”

He huffed out a short breath in a facsimile of a laugh. “Not getting much sleep these days.”

“That’s something we’ve got in common.” You crossed your arms across your chest and let out a loose sigh, eyes wandering around in an attempt to think of what to say next. It should’ve been so easy, but… but for some reason, it just wasn’t.

“Guess so.” That awkward silence stretched out once more, neither of you knowing how to fill it. Thankfully, Mike continued to take the plunge, but it wasn’t without a slight barb. “What are you doing here?”

“I—” you stopped just as you had begun, because you really didn’t know. You had come here for help, but could Mike really do that for you? He was the same as you — a fucked up teenager trying to deal with something so far beyond him.

“I don’t know,” you admitted as you made eye contact once more. “I… I really don’t know. I’m out of options, and… I can’t keep going like this. So I came here to talk, or— or to try and get some help. I don’t know.”

That same silence filled the air once more, the night ambiance the only thing in between the two of you. You missed when that silence used to be comfortable, but… you could only blame yourself for it.

“So— so, what?” he asked, the beginnings of a frown starting to crease his brows. “You just— we go through all that together up there, and then when we get back down you don’t say a word for months. And now— now, out of nowhere, in the middle of the night, you just show up and ask for help?”

“God,” you muttered. When he put it that way, it was true. It was ridiculous, to expect his help after the way you had just left him to deal with it all on his own for a reason borne of your own insecurity. “You’re right. This was— this was stupid. I’m sorry.”

You had already turned to go when you felt a calloused hand on your shoulder, causing you to stop in your tracks.

“No.” His voice was surprisingly soft as he sighed, stepping back with a shake of his head to make room in the doorway. “No, I—” Mike paused for a moment, as if he couldn’t find the right words to say. “I’m sorry. You can come in. Obviously, you can come in.”

Your eyes widened slightly as you tried to hide your shock at the gesture, but you weren’t about to turn it down. You nodded, and he stepped aside to make space for you to walk in. When you did, you were met with a mess not unlike the one back at your apartment, save for the beer bottles. Clothes were strewn about haphazardly on every surface, so you took a seat on a clean spot on the floor, leaning back against a chair and pulling your knees up to your chest. You actually preferred it this way — it was grounding, in a literal sense. Mike pushed aside a laundry basket and did the same, but pulled one leg up and let the other lay extended.

“Why?” he asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had been accumulating once more. “Why did you just…” he gestured around with his hands to try and get his point across but ultimately settled with a sigh. “You didn’t say anything. You didn’t try to text, or call, or write, or— or anything. Hell, I would’ve probably jumped to get a messenger pigeon from you. But it was just… radio silence.”

You picked at the dry skin on your thumbs as you tried to come up with an answer. “I… I don’t know,” you repeated. “It was stupid, and it was horrible of me to leave you alone. I mean… I don’t know why I did it. I know what I’ve been going through, and I know you’ve been going through the same. So I don’t know why I didn’t try to reach out and see how you were doing.”

He chuckled mirthlessly as his eyes swept over the empty bottles that had accumulated on the coffee table. “I’m not the best with alone.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “I thought…” you shook your head as you looked at the ceiling. “I thought that you hated me. I know that you cared about them all more, you were closer to all of them, and… and I thought you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. That I would just always be a reminder of what you lost. And… and, I don’t know. Maybe it was my way of trying to move on. Was a stupid fucking idea, though.”

That got a genuine laugh out of him as he ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I get that. I dunno why I didn’t try to talk to you either. Maybe since you didn’t say anything, I didn’t want to either. This whole thing fucked me up.” His gaze moved to you. “Fucked us both up.”

“You can say that again,” you muttered as you tapped your fingers on your knees. “I can’t look anywhere without seeing them. I mean, I see that fucking…” you grimaced. “I see Josh, and I see what that thing did to him, and I just— I’m right back to step one.”

He swallowed hard and nodded. “...yeah. That was seven layers of fucked up.”

“You can’t just keep saying everything was fucked up,” you said dryly. “It was shitty, too.”

Mike snorted, some kind of slightly masochistic humor going on between the two of you. “Nothing really gets the point across like fucked up.”

“Guess you’re right,” you finally conceded with a small smile. “This is… this is nice. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to… I don’t know, to talk to someone like this.”

“It is,” he murmured.

Another pregnant pause hung in the air, but the silence wasn’t as uncomfortable now. Trickles of what it used to be like, of your old life, were beginning to poke through.

“I never hated you,” he said suddenly. Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and it was like his brown eyes were piercing through you as he continued. “I never did. After it happened… yeah, I was mad. I was fucking pissed, but it was never at you. You were my friend too, y’know? Even though we weren’t that close, we were still… we were still something. And I’m glad you made it. I just wish you hadn’t convinced yourself that you had to go through this alone. Maybe things would’ve turned out different, these past few months. For both of us.”

You nodded, choosing to avert eye contact first because you almost couldn’t handle the sincerity. Your heart sank a bit at the sight of all the beer bottles, and you knew that he was right. Maybe things would’ve been different if the two of you had weathered it together from the start. And so you said that.

“I still can’t help but feel like I’m to blame for—” you gestured around at the mess with a sigh, “for this.”

“Look.” His voice was raspy as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and as he met your eyes once more you were able to see how truly exhausted he was. With dark circles that matched your own, scars that were still healing, and a certain hollowness behind his eyes… It was like looking in a mirror. And it made you realize how fucked up the two of you had really become.

Mike had always been good at holding himself together, putting up his signature egotistical-douchebag-jock act in the face of anything that threatened to tear him down, and more often than not he came out victorious. But not even class presidents were immune to the horrors that they had faced, and it was taking more of a toll on him than you had realized.

“It’s not your fault. You— you did everything you could; I know I’m still alive because of you. Besides, we were idiot teenagers — we still are — and none of them deserved to die because of it. Not Hannah, not Beth, not any of them.” Mike shook his head and sighed. “Not even Josh. Man was fucked up even before all of this, but he didn’t deserve what happened to him. He needed help, but instead he got his fucking… god. I can’t even say it. But he didn’t deserve it.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, the subconscious process having stopped because of the weight of his words. It was cliche, but you didn’t know how much you needed to hear those four words: it’s not your fault.

“Maybe you should be my therapist,” you joked weakly. But as you let your eyes trail back to Mike you bit your lip. He hadn’t included himself in that statement, and it wasn’t too hard to figure out why.

“Mike… it wasn’t your fault either. You’re not just saying bullshit to try and make yourself feel better, it really wasn’t your fault. What do they say? ‘Getting through your guilt is the first step to recovery’ or some shit? You deserve to be here just as much as I do.”

“But it was,” he insisted. “It’s easy for you to say that. You tried to stop it, I… I just went along with it. Fuck, I started it all. Hannah and Beth went missing because of me, Josh went out of his fuckin’ mind, and if he hadn’t brought us all back up there for his revenge plot then they wouldn’t have died. How is it not my fault? Why do I get to live when all of them died because of me?”

“Mike,” you sighed. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know why we made it back when none of them did, but it’s not your fucking fault, okay? You— yeah, that prank was fucking stupid, but— but how could you know what was going to happen?” You huffed a laugh that was only slightly unhinged. “People pull pranks all the time. Native American legend cannibal spirit things don’t try to kill people all the time. You can’t keep blaming yourself. It’s not going to help them, and it’s not going to help you.”

That silence stretched out once more as he took in your words. You didn’t know if he believed them or not, but you did. That had to be worth something, right?

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he muttered, breaking the silence once more. “And I… I don’t know. I don’t know why it took almost fucking dying from those goddamn things, a— and seeing what happened to all of them...”

“I don’t know,” he repeated, leaning back against the foot of the sofa. “All the shit that happened, all of them dying — I don’t know how long it’ll take until we’re okay again. Hell, I don’t even know if we ever will be okay again. What happened up there was fucked up in the worst way, and the fact that no one believes us makes it a hell of a lot worse.”

You chuckled darkly as you cupped one hand in the other. “You can say that again.”

His lips twitched for a moment as if he wanted to smile but ultimately thought better of it. “I know we aren’t that close anymore, but the truth is we’re the only ones on this fuckin’ planet that know what really happened up there. We’re the only ones that will ever really understand what happened to us, and… and I think we’re the only ones that can really help each other through this shit.”

He met your eyes once more, something resolute in them. “So the next time this happens, because it will, if you don’t want to be alone… you can come here. Any time, any day, no questions asked. Just knock on that door, and I will be there. No more isolation, no more trying to get through this on our own. We gotta be there for each other, because we’re all we have.”

You nodded gratefully, a feeling of warmth slowly creeping through your body with his reassurance. “Thank you, Mike. You… you have no idea what this means to me.”

“I think I have some clue,” he murmured.

As you exchanged weary smiles, you saw a faint twinkle in Mike’s eyes. He was always the kind of person to help others, even if it was for the wrong reasons, and that was one thing that stuck with him after the disaster. And in that moment, a long lost feeling washed over you — safety.

You hadn’t felt safe in… well, it seemed like forever. Adrenaline and pure instinct were responsible for getting you through those twelve hours, along with an overwhelming wave of numbness and denial. But once all of that wore off, the nightmares had begun. Your friends, the Wendigos, the mountain itself — anything and everything that your mind could use against you, it did.

It was a living hell. You could hardly ever sleep anymore, horrific images always jolting you awake after an hour or two and keeping you awake for the rest of the day. It was no wonder Mike had ended up with a drinking problem — it was probably the only way he could sleep, the only way he could bring some form of peace to his mind. By some miracle, you had avoided that fate, but… you would be lying if you said you hadn’t come close.

But somehow, for some reason, you could tell that things were going to be different. Now that you and Mike weren’t avoiding each other anymore in the name of painful memories… you felt like things were going to be okay. Or as close to okay as you could get these days.

You weren’t alone, and neither was he.

He had saved your life on the mountain more than once. Now, he was saving you again. Just in a different way.

-

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ud tags: @kwyloz

[idiotwhotalkstoomuch]

I never expected you guys to like demon Senjuro so much lol I’m really happy to see that like it was such a random impulse thought but the au has a lot of room for growth

In this post Im gonna establish a few things about what happened to Senjuro and Kyojuro in the events between Senjuro’s “death” and the pillar meeting. I will only cover their relationship and a little bit of Senjuro’s relationship with Tanjiro. The others can come at a different post cause this post is gonna be long lol so I put it under cut cause no one really wants a post to flood their dash

TW: Mentions of death (some are children), mentions of cannibalism (If you’ve seen even the first episode of demon slayer and had no problem, you’re fine with this post. This post is slightly not anime only friendly as I make references to an upper moon and I show a manga only panel as of posting this) Shnjuro gets really depressed but luckily there is no attempted suicide

Senjuro Rengoku

- His class was at the bottom floor and they were cleaning the school (I heard thats a thing in Japan if someone has a better idea on what they’re doing feel free to shoot an ask) when they got attacked

- In canon we dont know his age but I’m gonna guess like 12-14 but in the au he is 13 so he was 12 when he became a demon. A rogue demon attacked Senjuro’s class and Senjuro ran to get help and was fatally injured but still managed run to get help as he was given a nichirin sword and even if it didnt change color he must have known breathing techniques at the very least on a basic level and the demon was too preoccupied with some of the teachers and others trying to kill the demon, of course unaware of what it was except for Senjuro

- Upper moon 4 was sneaking around when he saw the all but dead body of Senjuro and demons really dont have standards for turning people into demons so when he noticed he was alive, turned him into a demon mostly so that if he did find any “evil people” (demon slayers) he could use him as his meat shield alongside his personalities

- When Senjuro woke up as a demon (cause even if he was a breath user he was very inexperienced so Hantengu had no problem making him a demon), he had no memory of his life as a human and looked around trying to find a human to satiate his hunger and saw a human in the distance with someone and began to run to them to satiate his hunger when he felt himself being held back. 

- The spirit of Ruka Rengoku gently held her son back and instructed him to not eat humans as that’s not something he should do and even if Senjuro couldn’t recognize the woman holding him back, he found himself obeying her and running to go to a place to hide from the sun

- From that moment on for a few day he would hop from place to place whether underneath homes, in caves or any place he could find to avoid being seen and to be shielded from the sun and found himself growing sleepy so in the cave he hid in, far away from the place he was last in, he closed his eyes and fell asleep for a year

- When he woke up, he had unwittingly burnt away Muzan’s control of him and was unsure on what to do when Ruka’s spirit appeared again telling him that he needs to find his way home. Senjuro wasn’t actually listening to a lot of what she said except one thing stuck to him. 

- “Senjuro”, he didn’t know what his name was as a demon but the name seem to stick to him and he figured this must be his name (he would of course be correct)

- When he found himself staying with the Kamaboko squad, having been spared despite being a demon due to him not having any form of aggression to them (something they all noticed due to his general demeanor and their enhanced sense) and Tanjiro could smell he hadnt eaten one human and he invited him to join them. He joined Nezuko in her box (she can grow really really tiny if she wants or is tired)

Reference: 

Kny chapter 85

- He joined for two reasons: One, he was really scared of people and demon slayers especially so when Tanjiro offered him the chance to be able to be safe and hide he took it. Secondly, he wasn’t sure but the smile Tanjiro gave and his warm reassurance reminded of him of someone, when he thought hard he only saw blurry shadows and got a headache so didn’t try to push it

- Tanjiro did ask him in the wisteria house while Zenitsu was chatting with Nezuko and Inosuke was off being Inosuke about his past and Senjuro told him about his brief meetings with a woman with black hair and asks if they’ve met before as he feels familiar

- This is where he gets the idea that the woman with black hair (Ruka) is his mother and Tanjiro guesses that the person that he thinks is Tanjiro must be his father (right on the first part Tanjiro but wrong on the second lol, you tried)

- He wears a cyan yukata with a new hakama pants as the clothes he was previously wearing was the same bloodstained clothes he wore after turning into a demon and Tanjiro didnt want to leave him in that. Tanjiro thought to get him a gag but the idea made Senjuro uncomfortable so Tanjiro made him swear to never eat a single human

- In Mount Nagatumo, he was too scared to jump out to protect Tanjiro like Nezuko but when she gets sliced up he leaves the box to watch her while Tanjiro fights Rui, unfortunately he is caught in Rui’s webs like Nezuko and was saved from it by Nezuko flames (though it did burn him a fair bit, Nezuko would apologize to him for this later)

- Giyuu doesn’t kill Senjuro cause his resemblance to Kyojuro despite the different clothes and demon eyes is clear to anyone who can see and Shinobu also finds herself hesitating but shakes those feelings off as Kyojuro deserves better than to see his little brother as a demon. Luckily Giyuu stops him and Senjuro runs with Nezuko and Tanjiro but is later taken back to the demon slyer corps by a Kakushi who put him and Nezuko back in their box

- When Sanemi stabbed the box, he moved to try and protect Nezuko but the box was too cramped and they both got stabbed despite his efforts. Later when he tries to bait him with his marechi blood, he’s too focused on resisting the blood and on Nezuko who he had grown to see as a sister to care about the wide eyed looks the pillars were giving him.

Kyojuro Rengoku (I am so sorry in advance Kyojuro simps I put this man THROUGH IT)

- He had just finished a mission and was going to get another mission when a crow he hadn’t seen work in years came flying to him, obviously panicked telling him how Senjuro’s school was attacked and how no one can find Senjuro among the bodies. The crow was Shinjuro’s

- When he hears that, all the kakushi and other demon slayers present would say they had never seen the flame pillar run so frantically, he only stopped to apologize briefly if he bumped into someone while running but the only thing racing in his mind was his little brother who had no weapon to defend himself with. He forced the image of his brother being nothing but a corpse away only thinking about saving Senjuro

- When he reached the school, he forced himself to calm down. Panicking isn’t going to magically bring Senjuro to him so he needs to keep himself in check because with so many people dead, he’s not the only one concerned over the kids

- There were no survivors on the area that was attacked, the police were there investigating the deaths of the many children and teachers, Kyojuro had to spend time convincing the police he was with them and to be allowed to investigate as well

- With no survivors, he heard from the police that there was a blood trail when they got there and he went to find the trail, when he reached the end of it where there were no traces of Senjuro but since the people there were untrained civilians, Senjuro was the only possible person to have been there

- He spent multiple days searching, Mitsuri was at one point sent to check on him and it was clear he was pushing himself, as days passed by, his composure and bright demeanor were crumbling and he started latching onto any lead to at the very least find the body of Senjuro to take back home but it was becoming clear that he would never find it and a kakushi had to be the one to tell him that his body was likely eaten to the bone or eaten and discarded to either rot away or eaten by someone else

- Kyojuro took a week off, not just because of the grief he felt at that moment but because he needed to check on his father and make sure he would be okay, the man didn’t even face Kyojuro when he came in to visit, he forced himself to not cry in front of his father as he tried to talk to the man who couldn’t even say a word and just drank away even as his eldest son tried to talk to him

- Servants were hired to monitor Shinjuro by Kyojuro as he was concerned about his health both physically and mentally but he did notice how Shinjuro never resisted to being taken care of by the people he hired. They reported to him he could be heard muttering Senjuro’s name and even stares at his room for extended periods of time

- When he made his return, he apologized to the pillars for his behavior the past two weeks (even though no one blamed the man, some even said it was okay if he needed more time, they wouldn’t judge) but whenever he was told that he said he had to be strong to protect the weak so he could be someone that could stop families from ending up like his own

- He was far more determined in killing demons, demon attacks had become personal to him now, whenever he saw a demon eating people he found himself wondering what they must’ve thought in the afterlife as the demon desecrated their bodies

- In the pillar meeting, when he was informed of a swordsman who travelled with not one but two demons, he felt disgust as who knows how many humans they could eat. On the way to the meeting, he couldn’t help but notice Shinobu deliberately avoiding him a bit, Giyuu was doing the same but the man never really talked with them much to begin with

- When he saw Senjuro go out of the box with Nezuko, he felt the smile on his face drop and his heart practically sunk to the core of the earth as he saw the unmistakable hair of a Rengoku and the face was so clearly Senjuro’s despite his eyes having a black sclera and his iris and pupil becoming cat like, the pillars had all turned to see if the flame pillar was alright and he could hear Himejima mutter prayers and Mitsuri was on the verge of tears seeing Senjuro alive but as a demon

- He found himself going into denial until Tanjiro, who had been freed as Obanai left to comfort the distressed love pillar, ran and yelled Senjuro’s name and told him to resist his hunger

- “My sister and the other demon with us are different! They would never eat a human!”

- Senjuro was a good kid, he was innocent, kind and a bit on the timid side. He had helped raise him, he knew Senjuro would never want to harrm a fellow human even when threatened. 

[smolgloves]

13! "what if i didn't catch you?!" (if you're still taking prompts ofc!!)

So this turned out longer than I thought lol. Also I wanna give a shout out to @obwjam because I wrote this based on a prompt she did for a star wars au she did awhile back. I have it reblogged below.

FORCE WIELDER

Many borrowers think living in the jedi temple is reckless and dangerous. They say the jedi can sense a borrower deep within the walls, plus, most jedi keep their living quarters in pristine condition, but after living within the walls for months, Ahsoka figured those stories were just a myth. The jedi are hardly in their rooms, making it easy to just grab stuff when needed. And while a lot of the jedi were neat freaks, there was one jedi who usually had a messy room…

Ahsoka could never remember his name but it was something along the name of Sky guy. He was a human that loved to tinker on gadgets in his spare time. There were all sorts of screws and scrap metal lying around, also out of all the Jedi, Sky guy was the one who was least likely to ever be in his quarters. 

Sky guy wasn't scheduled to be back for another few days, so Ahsoka knew she had plenty of time to borrow some stuff she needed for a new ascension cable she was working on. 

So she made her way through the air vents until she reached Sky guy's room. She had the vantage point to see the entire room. On the nightstand by his bed, Ahsoka could see some scrap metal lying around. Perfect for what she needed! So the tiny Togruta used her primitive grappling hook to make her way down to the floor. After unhooking it, she made a dash to the nightstand and climbed her way up it. 

~~~ 

Ahsoka spent hours working on that ascension cable, trying to get it to work. But for some reason, it didn't want to shoot out! Ahsoka was so preoccupied that she almost didn't hear the door open. Immediately, Ahsoka dropped her stuff and jumped off the nightstand. She tucked and rolled once she hit the ground and dashed under the bed. 

Black boots lazily entered the room and began walking over to the desk, but Sky guy only took about three steps before he stopped. 

A feeling of dread washed over Ahsoka, telling her that Sky guy knew she was here. He turned over and headed over to the nightstand, Ahsoka backed further into the shadows. She knew she had to get out of this room. 

"What's this?" Sky guy muttered. 

Drat! How could she have been so stupid and leave the grappling hook on the nightstand?! Ahsoka had to weigh her options, could she slip by undetected to the door? No, he was already too close, even if she was as stealthy as she prided herself to be, he had the high ground and would spot her a mile away. The only other option would be to get to the air vent. But it was so high up, even if Ahsoka jumped from the desk there still wasn't a confirmed chance she'd make it to the vent even if she jumped! 

But it was her only option as Sky guy was already kneeling down to look under the bed. Ahsoka slipped out from the bed and made a dash to the desk. Fortunately, Sky was still examining her previous hiding spot but it wouldn't be long before he would wander over to the desk. She channeled all the energy she could to jump up to the top of the desk, then made a break for it. 

"Huh?" Sky guy had finally stood up and turned towards the desk. He knew of the little borrower now. But Ahsoka had already leapt up in the air by the time he saw. She was practically flying to the vent at this point, just a little further and she would be home free!

But suddenly, she stopped. A feeling of weightlessness flowed through her body, Ahsoka was floating in midair! She glanced over at Sky guy who had his hand stretched out towards her, his blue eyes staring right at her. Then a force seemed to push her towards him, a sense of dread formed in Ahsoka as his fingers curled around her once she got near. Once his fist closed around her, she knew she was as good as dead. 

Sky guy stared down at Ahsoka, his brown brows furrowed as if he was trying to examine her. "You're just a kid." 

"And what about it?!" Ahsoka snapped. Fear was fading and being replaced with anger. She began throwing punches at his fingers, hoping by some miracle he would drop her. 

But Sky guy just sighed and walked over to the desk and sat down. He immediately deposited the little borrower in front of him. "Now don't mo-!" 

But Ahsoka already made a break for the edge of the desk again, this time she would make it to the vent above her! However, a gloved hand slammed down in front of her and she crashed into the palm. Surprisingly, he didn't try to grab her again, instead he let her skitter back away from hand. Ahsoka looked up at him, who had an annoyed look on his face. 

"Nice try, but You're not going anywhere, I have a lot of questions." 

Ahsoka crossed her arms. "And who says I got answers?" 

"You know, you're pretty snippy for someone who's not even five inches tall." He chuckled. "Which I gotta say, I didn't know Togrutas could be borrowers." 

"You… know about our kind?" 

"Well not much... the jedi temple doesn't have a lot of information about your species." Sky guy explained. "But I'm pretty sure you're the first borrower that was reckless enough to live in the temple." 

"It's not like it was hard!" Ahsoka spat out. "I've been taking things from your room for months and you just noticed!" 

"Because you got reckless." Sky guy held his hand above her to show the faulty ascension cable. 

"That's mine, give it back!" She demanded. 

"Gotta say, you made quite a good replica of the Clone troopers' ascension cables, but I'm sure you needed it for that jump you tried to do." 

"It wasn't working." Ahsoka gritted her teeth. "It's not like I needed it, anyways." 

"Didn't need it?!" Exclaimed the Jedi. "Do you even realize how far that fall is for your size! What if I didn't catch you?!" 

"I would have made it!" She snapped.

Sky guy responded with a scoff. He was doubting her abilities and that only made Ahsoka's blood boil more! 

"You think I haven't fallen from heights greater than that?! But I've always managed to land on my feet somehow!" 

Sky guy raised a brow. "What do you mean by somehow?" 

The borrower shrugged. "I'm not sure how to explain it, anytime I've fallen, I just have a feeling that tells me the best step to surviving the fall." 

Sky guy pondered on her words before his eyes slowly widened. "You're force sensitive!" 

"What does that even mean?" 

"Listen, as soon as I walked in my room I felt a presence. It was like a little voice telling me you were in here, and I bet you did too!" 

"That doesn't mean anything!" 

"Oh, yes it does! You're strong with the force!" 

"I think you need to update your borrower history, Sky guy! What you think is 'the force' is actually just borrowers learning how to maneuver." 

"Alright Snips, maybe you're right. Borrowers are just durable creatures, but you know what isn't durable?" Sky guy smirked as he dangled the ascension cable over the edge.

"Dont!" 

He released his fingers and the contraption descended to the ground, Ahsoka shouted and reached her hand out, she felt something powerful flow through her as if she was connecting her reach towards her cable. Instead of it hitting the ground and breaking, it floated in midair, and then slowly made its way to her feet. The energy drained from her and Ahsoka fell to her knees. "That was exhausting!" 

"You need training, little one." He said. "I should report this to the council." 

"No!" Ahsoka gasped. "I refuse to be known by anyone else!" 

"But you can't just run around without control over your powers." Sky guy explained. "If the wrong people got a hold of you, it could be very bad." 

"Please, don't tell anyone about me!" Desperation was in her voice. 

Sky guy pondered on her words for a moment, then a sigh escaped his lips. "Alright, I won't tell anyone…  but only if you let me train you." 

"Are you serious?" 

"You don't want to be known, and you'll be taught by the best Jedi Knight in the galaxy." He flashed her a smile. 

"I don't know…" 

"How about I help you fix your ascension cable too, and give you anything you need to make other gadgets."

"Anything?" 

"Anything." 

Part of Ahsoka told her to run and not trust him. But she was immensely curious about her newfound powers. "I suppose a lesson or two wouldn't hurt." 

"Great!" Sky guy exclaimed. "We'll get started tomorrow, but can I ask for your name… unless you don't mind being called Snips?"

"It's Ahsoka!" She scoffed. 

"Well I'm Anakin Skywalker, but typically a Padawan addresses a teacher as master." 

"Don't push it." 

Anakin chuckled. "You should rest now, regain your strength for tomorrow. I can place you on the bed if you'd like." 

Ahsoka shook her head. "I don't feel comfortable being grabbed." 

Anakin nodded. "Then hold on, and I'll find something to sleep on." 

He left the desk but Ahsoka had already laid her head down. Fatigue had taken over her body. Who knew that the force would be so psychically and mentally draining, but maybe with some training, Ahsoka could be as powerful as Anakin Skywalker.

[fandom-imagination-ss]

Imagine: Being Life long friends with Sam and meeting Bucky unexceptionally when your in the middle of a life crisis

Being Sam Wilson best friend, and his family and your being family friends made your life fun growing up. It was like having a brother- but a brother you could send away too his home when you wanted too be more “girly” and play with his sister Sarah. Growing up with Sam it was a adventure he always got you in trouble. But it made life Fun.

You were one of the billions of people who Blimped. However when you returned. You were stunned too learn your husband Not only remarried but was married too the opposite sex of what you are. And that was a Curve ball you weren’t expecting. You and his new Partner fought for a week over who was the home wrecker. He stated you were since you were whipped from existence, while you said He was. Since you married your dum dum of a husband first. In the end your husband said he wasn’t going back too you.

Honestly you were relieved- you were having issues before you disappeared and you simply said that you wanted your stuff and you would leave... that’s when he informed you that he sold your stuff within a Week of dissapearing and giving your Favorite panda bear teddy bear too the neighbor who had a girl who was now five years old. You were MORE upset about the Teddybear then the marriage, or your stuff being Gone. Mr. P (your trusted companion thru out your life) has been their for you Thur heartbreak, the ups and the down. And you ere heartbroken that he gave up hope so quickly. But Mr. P being gone was the last straw.

luckily the neighbor understood and felt pity that you returned too Nothing and your husband left you for a man. And that you didn’t have a Job anymore. And basically had the cloths on your back and the few pieces of shirts you took from your husband. So they gave you back Mr. P.. who was missing a eye now and smelt of someone else. It didn’t smell like you and it made your return home too your parents depressing.

Sam was gone, he was blimped. Your friend Sarah was left with two little kids as you helped out. But when you got the divorce papers seeing your no good of a husband was claiming abandonment and wanting everything. You snapped. And you went too Europe for the summer.

Traveling, the food, the culture. Yu were Never alone in bed. It was a well needed mental break, No responsibility, No husband, No drama, just a break from reality. Then you returned home too see Sam was back. Captain America was Gone, and your life came crashing back. Fun was over. Time too restart your entire life.. and try too move on with your life.

Sam returned home as you and him had a few beers after work. Talking about life, the Avengers, Europe. (Most stories were glazed over. Mainly because you didn’t want too talk about the string of lovers you left behind in Europe that wasn’t you. You weren’t the sort of person too kiss or tell. Plus Sam was struggling he wasn’t mentioning it out loud but the lost of Tony Stark, and Now Steve he’s close friend in Washington it took a toll on your friend.

you use too ask about the Winter soldier The hot mysteries Killer who just Dissapeared and then was helping the avengers with the battle of basically life. Sam said he was a ass and that he wans’t much. You disagreed saying the mystery man was Hot. Which only made him question your values.

Sneaking over too the Wilson family was a common thing, you always walk right in, and they do vise versa. Today you got in early with a box of donuts from your mom shop you got up at 4 am too bake them as you got inside exhusted from your short shift it was almost eight am. As you got in seeing the boys were playing with a Captain America shield you walked over seeing someone sleeping on the sofa. Stepping over looking at it, ‘Holly crap that looks so real.”

“it is! Uncle Sam brought it over.”

“Shut up!” The youngest handed it too you as you held it. It was lighter then you imagined as you three played with it until you heard a deep voice. “Hey”

The three of you turned seeing the man awake he had a smile on his face as he waved at the three of you as you gasped, “Scatter!” The boys bolted as you put the shield down as you spoke, “Sorry-..” putting the shield down you spoke up, “I’m Y/N... ugh... sorry i walked in on the boys playing with it and- i couldn’t help myself.” He chuckled weakly shifting up as he said No worry as Sam walked into the kitchen.

“Hey Y/N” he reached over kissing your cheek it was a common greeting you both had. Since you were seven. You smield saying hey as he spoke, “what’s going on here? Your face is all red?”

Laughing weakly you shook your head, “Nothing! Nothing hey where is Sarah?”

“Not here- she went too the boat i think.”

You groaned hearing that. You were just at the docks at her boat looking for her- she wasn’t there. “No i was just there-“

“Sorry- oh so you meet?”

Shaking your head, “no- i mean i gave my name. He didn’t give his.”

Sam spoke, “good lets keep it that way.” You rolled your eyes, ‘your a prue gent Sam.” He rolled his eyes as the man chuckled as he spoke ‘I’m Bucky.”

Smiling at him Sam spoke, ‘hey- so.. Don’t mention the shield okay.”

he nudged his head at the shield that was leaning against the wall as you shook your head, “didn’t see a thing.. it’s not the real one is it?”

“yea- long story.”

you gasped gripping his arm, “Will I meet one of the Avengers? If I the Avengers are involved I’m going home too change out of my floured covered shirt.”

“No- No this is just Steve stuff.”

you meet Steve and even commented too Sam (when Steve went home) that if you weren’t married you would drool over Steve But at last.. you were married and couldn’t. But he was Fun too look at.

You nodded your head, “okay. Just- dont break it! With playing with it.”

Bucky grinned hearing that, you soon left as Bucky spoke, “So who’s that?”

“Family friend, she’s the kids godmother. And she’s like a sister so No flirting with her!’

“she’s not your special friend?” Bucky grinned seeing how he kissed her when he arrived as Sam spoke “gross No1 she’s like a sister she’s my best friend growing up she’s sensitive leave her alone.”

Later that day you arrived too Sarah’s Boat seeing Sam and Bucky were fixing it up for Her. As you walked over too the boat staying on the docks. Staring up at the two. they were having a drink as Bucky noticed you instantly wearing a plaid oversized shirt, some jean shorts that were covered in flour a grey -T shirt under the open plaid shirt and a grey hat. You wore sneaks as he smiled brightly, “hey Y/N.”

Smiling up at him saying Hey as Sam turned seeing you, “Yo Y/N what’s up?”

“where is your sister?! I haven’t seen her all day! It’s a small town!”

Sam rolled his eyes, “if you just carried a Phone you could joint the 21st century and Text her.”

Rolling your eyes at that. You stopped carrying your phone once you return from Europe mainly because you were getting Way too many text’s from the one night stands and everyone you wanted too talk too- you saw all day. You knew you should carry it for security and safety reasons. Plus playing music while you are alone in the morning working at the bakery would be nice. But you just keep forgetting. “I shouldn’t have too! She’s always other three places!”

Sam didn’t have the energy too fight but Bucky asked why you needed her so badly. As you spoke, “oh- Me and Sarah had planned something for tonight and I needed help with something nothing major I’ll keep looking for her-“

“Y/N!”

you all turned seeing Strewart dash over too you saying he had the fireworks . Which made you smile brightly, “seriously? “

“why you need fireworks?” Sam called out as you waved him off saying he would see later. You and Strew dashed off. Bucky couldn’t help but grin seeing you so gleeful.

“Hey- Stop looking at her-‘ Sam spat as Bucky chuckled softly saying okay.

It took you all day too find Sarah and too Get the “ritual” all set in motion. The Only thing your no good for husband had was your wedding dress. Mainly keep it because it was so exprience and he let he’s new Love wear it for a drag show. (The top was stained with makeup and it was in desperate need of some TLC ) but you got it.

Sarah suggested you just get ride of it. Which was such a marauded response. Get Ride of it? You couldn’t bar the thought of it being worn by anyone else. And the fact your husbands lover wore it. And ruined it. Made you decided too burn it. Too fully start anew.

your mom wasn’t thrilled with that idea. But Sarah was soon convinced espically seeing that the ball gown dress took majority of your closest.

it was her sons idea too attach it too a firecracker and fling it up into the air. And set it off. Which was a perfect idea.. which wasn’t very realistic So instead you figured. Fireworks by the water, and a huge Fire on the beach burning your dress and burning everything you had left of your former life.

Sam didn’t care one way or another that you did all this. He never personally liked your husband. By the time the fireworks were done, the parents went home and Sara’s kids went home which meant she went home. So Sam, Bucky and yu were sitting around the fire having drinks as you watched your dress burn.

“Y/N?” Bucky asked as you looked up too see him As he’s eyes brow frowned looking a t you, “you alright?”

nodding your head weakly you took a big gulp of beer as Sam spoke, “Hey maybe you should slow down.”

Shaking your head as you spoke, “I’m being reborn. Tonight Sammy.. No more stupid husband. i am officially Miss Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N again! I dont feel guilty anymore.”

“what you have too feel guilty for?” Sam said as you shook your head, “it wasn’t working before i dissapeared. Honestly we fought all the time. He was so controlling and demanding. LIke remember when i said that Winter soilder dude was incredibly Hot?” Sam chuckled as Bucky was stunned as he spoke “yea i remember you mentioning it.”

“that Jack ass- got so jealous. And of Steve! He kicked me out one night just because I had lunch with him and you.- that guy was a jackass and who gives up on their love after a week?” taking another drink you looke d at Bucky you were Far passed just a little tipsy. You didn’t care how drunk you got. Sam was here. And you were safe. “Would you give up on me. If we were in love? After a week?”

Bucky took a drink of his beer debuting on his answer mainly because he was worried he was overstepping on something between you and Sam. “No” he finally said as he spoke, “No i wouldn’t..” you nodded your head as you reached over patting his shoulder, “that’s because your a true gentleman!” He chuckled as Sam spoke, “okay.. your clearly drunk if your calling him a gentlemen.”

you laughed as you spoke, “i may be drunk Sir! But i can tell a gentlemen when i see one-“ you got up as you stumbled as Bucky swooped up fast catching you as you grabbed his arms. Feeling the hard metal arm as you chuckled weakly. “Hey you got a metal arm like that incredibly hot guy.” He chuckled as he went too talk but you patted his face, “you know- I told Sam the guy probably didn’t have enough hugs growing up.. you know your suppose too get ten hugs a day? Doctors prove it helps-“ you stumbled again as Bucky spoke, ‘I’m sure that’s it.” You chuckled as Sam got up, “Okay Y/N time too go home.”

“okay.... hey your getting blurry-“ and with that you passed out. Bucky grabbed you before you fell down as Sam sighed, “she’s having a hard time adjusting— I’ll carry her-“

“I got her.. lead the way.”

Sam didn’t argue he iddn’t really want too carry you all the way home.he could do it. But Bucky wouldn’t stugggle as much. Plus he was slightly tipsy and wasn’t sure he could carry you- without dropping you.

Sam let you all into your house. As Bucky carried you too your room. As Sam followed seeing how Odd how careful Bucky was with you. When you settled into your bed you mumbled something as Bucky covered you up As he smiled too himself before turning and leaving with Sam.

Sam watched as they left.

“So she doesn’t knwo about me huh?”

“No- thought i can’t wait too tell her tomorrow” Sam stated as Bucky grinned weakly. He couldn’t wait too see you tomorrow

[nothorses]

I don't know if anyone else has experienced this, and I worry about saying this off anon but I want to actually, be a face as I do. When I came out I knew I wasn't cis, and I was lucky enough to have the support of two wonderful trans partners, but I had an extremely hard time finding my place in the trans community. I am pro MOGAI and new, hyperspecific terms because I know how important it can be to want to put a name, a flag, and individual pride to your identity. 1/?

I switched my own terms quite a lot, from demigirl to genderfae to genderflux to where I am now, genderfluid. But I remember there was a moment, because I was so sure I was only female aligned, where I thought for just a moment that I might be a boy, and I was terrified, I didnt want to be a boy, I didnt want to be "that trans." Like every trans person, I struggled with internalized transphobia, not feeling valid or true enough in my identity, 2/15

But that dreadful feeling of being Scared of being a boy is something I think about a lot, and something I think is truly telling. I'll admit I primarily (only) use tumblr because social media honestly isnt my thing, so I can only speak to what I've seen here, but I remember seeing so little about trans men, other than the occasional mention in broad positivity posts, the even rarer info about binding or passing, but I did see how much people hated men. 3/15

It was always implied to be about cis men, I've been spared the more modern issues regarding overt hatred of trans men, but I saw the constant anger and vitriol and genuine hatred for men. And I realize now I wasnt just scared of being "too trans" I was scared of being hated. So I made myself nonthreatening, I called myself a boy, I performed femininity to an even higher, though subversive standard, because I was still so scared of being a man. The enemy. The oppressor. 4/15

It took many more months to dare say I wanted to call myself a man, and even then I was scared, in the comfort and safety of my girlfriend's company. I felt dirty saying it, and I still do. I always only dare to refer to myself as a trans man, instead of just as a man. And I do want to sidetrack for a moment and say my relationship to gender, as a genderfluid person, is admittedly more complex than just when I feel this way, in other ways people are also particularly hateful towards, 5/15

But even with those other facets, and my fear of being open in them, pale in comparison to my relationship with masculinity. Because when I did come out and admit to myself that sometimes, I am not a woman, or nonbinary, I am a man, I became more aware of things. I exited wonderland, so to say. Suddenly I became so much more aware of how much people simply did not care about me or people like me, and especially not our problems or concerns. 6/15

I saw how invisible I was, and worse than that, I saw a very subtle malice. The only mention of trans men were in those broad positivity posts including everyone under the trans umbrella, or in the rare case something was positive exclusively for trans men, it was always reblogged with "dont forget trans women/enby people" tacked on, I remember once I looked in the trans tag and counted how many posts it took to find one exclusively about trans men that didnt mention binding 7/15

I got into the forties. Because on other posts, I would see people make passive aggressive remarks about how "trans men are talked about too much" or "there's all these resources for trans men, what about trans women" and I wanted to know on what earth the people who said that were living on, because the only, and I mean the only thing people tend to talk about in regards to trans men is how to safely bind, and rarely, the effects of HRT. 8/15

This happened a while ago, but I remember seeing a number of posts on my dash about how much representation trans men receive. I believe there was a panel about trans people, where a majority of the panelists were trans men, and trans women were less represented than them. They encouraged people to complain, said we received too much attention, and pointed at mythical trans male rep in media that in reality, I could count on one hand. I remember being so angry and passionate about it 9/15

Now im honestly just tired. I dont feel accepted by the trans community, and even the trans male community is iffy (I fit in amongst mogai people most, but I cant deny trumeds are particularly prevalent, and it wore on me), and it's so tiring to have every post made by trans men for trans men have to be preambled by belittling themselves and downplaying their own suffering. I just want to exist in peace, but I feel like that's too much to ask. 10/15

I've reached a point of exhaustion that I have become entirely apathetic to my own gender, what was once a deeply important aspect of my identity. I feel disconnected from it, and as a consequence from my own body. I don't bother examining it anymore because I can't feel it, as someone who suffers from dissociation, I feel dissociated from it in order to protect myself, something I was once so openly proud about. 11/15

Im scared to try and push for transition, for my own personal reasons, but now on top of those Im terrified of being silenced and belittled and hated for something that should make me happy. I've tried so hard not to feed into the lateral violence and become embittered towards trans women, because that's not fair, but I won't lie and say it hasnt been hard when I have seen more than I ever would've liked be so willing to ignore or outright throw their brothers under the bus 12/15

And of course there are even more who do show their support for their brothers, and for that im thankful, but this invisibility effects how I perceive everything. I feel like I've been pushed back into the closet, I say im trans because I know I'm not cis but I don't even know who I am, what my place is, and I'm scared to explore because I'm scared that who I am will be violently rejected by the people meant to support me. I want to be free to even explore who I am. 13/15

I wish people would listen to my experiences and what I have to say, but in every microaggression every act of ignoring I feel silenced. Trans men are viewed as predatory, just in a different way; trans men are fetishized and have chasers; trans men face higher rates of violence and sexual assault for being trans men; research about transmasc transition is almost nonexistent, and new, better surgeries are not even thought about; transmasc history is erased and silenced. 14/15

I, feel like im rambling at this point, and I'm sorry I've been so longwinded, I just. I want to thank you, for creating a space where I can speak my truth, because before finding your blog I didn't think anyone would care. I feel like I have so much more to say but honestly im scared, and too tired, and have said enough for now. I just want this feeling of loneliness to go away and hopefully I'll find a way to accept myself. Thank you for listening to me, and giving me a platform to speak 15/15

(Edited the numbers for accuracy)

Thank you for trusting me with this, and to other folks: I think this is an important narrative to listen to and share!

[therealjordan23]

i know u usually dont write in the b99 fandom, but can u do some charles boyle angst?

Sure anon :) Takes place after S7E3, Pimemento

ooo

"Boyle?" a voice asked behind him.

Charles swiveled around in his chair to find Rosa staring at him, her expression concerned and confused.

"Hey, Diaz," Charles commented, not bothering to give her another glance, keeping his gaze focused on the case sitting on his desk.

Rosa frowned: it wasn't unusual for anyone to call her Diaz, but coming from Charles? It made her feel uncomfortable, so she set a hand on his shoulder. She noticed him tense up from the contact, and she immediately guessed something had happened between him and Jake.

"What are you doing?"

He let out a groan. "A case, what else?"

Now she was sure something had happened between Charles and Jake. She gripped his shoulder tightly, and spun him around so that he was facing her. To her surprise, Charles didn't shy away from her intense scrutiny like he, or anyone, usually would. He glared right back at her, giving her a harsh look, but Rosa didn't flinch: she knew he wasn't going home, he spent his free days at work, and his wife and son were getting worried. It was also pretty visible that he wasn't acting like his usual self: he was growing out a heavy stubble, there were bags underneath his eyes, and he usually smelled of alcohol. Rosa noticed that he never wore his usual plain shirt, khakis, tie, and dress shoes anymore, opting for a simple NYPD hoodie and jeans. While it wasn't a bad outfit, she knew it wasn't approved by Captain Holt, along with the fact that it was out of character for Charles.

"Take your hand off my shoulder," he mumbled, his voice cold.

"No," Rosa said curtly. "I know something's up, and I want to know what it is. You're never like this."

He let out a harsh laugh, standing up, ripping his shoulder away from her tight grip. "I think that's the problem! Maybe I should be like this more often." With that, he headed towards the evidence room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Rosa spent the day watching the surveillance footage from the evidence room: Charles sat down at the spare desk, finishing cases with alarming speed. He would grab another one off the shelf, and would solve it so fast, she was positive that even Jake couldn't keep up.

Knowing she wasn't going to get to Boyle, she decided to go talk to Jake.

"Peralta," Rosa frowned, crossing her arms, looming over him. "What's up with Boyle?"

Jake frowned. "How should I know? I haven't seen him all day."

"He's in the evidence room, because he doesn't want to face any of us," she said plainly, and his eyes widened.

"Damn," he groaned. "I knew he would make it a big deal."

"Make what a big deal?" Amy asked, stepping over to them.

Jake sighed. "Rosa, remember when Amy told you we were going to try for a baby? Well, Charles didn't know, until last week, when Pimento came in with his memory loss. I told Adrian, because I assumed he would just forget what I told him. But… he didn't, and ended up telling Charles."

Rosa glared at him. "Jake—"

"I know it was wrong, but Amy didn't want him to know. Charles was really hurt, and he said he couldn't remember why we were even friends," Jake ran his fingers through his brown locks. "He was also angry that I kept blowing him off."

"But I thought you fixed all this." Amy frowned.

Jake sighed. "We did… I don't know what the problem is now! If anything, he's the one blowing me off!" Jake cried dramatically.

Rosa nodded. "I'll go talk to him."

She walked towards the evidence room, and knocked on the door. "Boyle, open ip. It's me. I need an old case file."

Rosa heard him trudge towards the door, and he slowly unlocked it, not bothering to look at her. He walked back to the spare desk that lied in the evidence room, keeping his eyes on the case. Rosa shut the door, locking it behind her.

"Alright. We need to talk."

Charles stared at her in disbelief. "You lied to me just to get in here?"

Rosa rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Tell me what's wrong, Charles. This isn't you."

He smirked. "Well, maybe I'm sick of being myself. Maybe… maybe if I wasn't myself, Amy would have trusted me with the news of her and Jake trying for a baby. Face it, Diaz, I'm just not one of the gang. I'm not you, or Holt, or Amy, or Terry, or Gina! I'm just… on the sidelines, connected to Jake: somebody who doesn't even want to be connected to me." Charles shut the last case he was working on, and let out a small groan.

Before Rosa could reply to the shocking words he had just said, he added, "Can you tell Holt that I'm going to go home? Niko will still be at school, and Genevieve won't be home for another 2 hours. Maybe I can get a quick shower in."

Rosa felt her heart shatter at the sight of the man who knew her best falling apart—she wanted to help, but how could she? These were Boyle's own feelings of not feeling adequate or as "in" as the rest of the group. He felt like a black sheep, and that was understandable. How was she supposed to help? What was she supposed to say? It was usually Charles reassuring the group, Charles holding them together, Charles giving them advice: they had been so busy with their own problems, that they were completely oblivious to Boyle's misery.

They were selfish.

Boyle grabbed his things, and before he could exit, he turned to her. "You know? After my divorce, there were only a few things keeping me from falling apart: my parents, my dogs, and… and this precinct, including the people in it. I care about everyone here more than myself… it just hurts to know that they don't feel the same way."

With that, he left her alone inside the evidence room. She eyed the desk where he had been working, and sat down at the vacant chair.

ooo

There was a gentle tap on her shoulder, followed by another persistent tap.

"Rosa?"

Rosa blinked. Where was she?

"Amy? God… where am I?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

"The evidence room. You've been in here for almost 2 hours." Amy frowned.

Rosa stretched. "I guess I was just… thinking."

Amy leaned on the desk. "About?"

"Boyle,"  Rosa answered. "And how awful we are to him."

Amy snorted, and opened her mouth to protest. "Rosa—"

"Amy!" Rosa snapped. "He keeps this precinct glued together! He makes sure we're okay, he supports Jake to no end. In fact, his and Jake's friendship is one sided! Have you ever seen Jake supporting Charles, to the extent that Charles supports him?!" she began ranting.

Amy was taken aback. "Rosa, you need to calm down—"

"No!" Rosa snapped. "He took 2 bullets for me! We spent 2 years calling him Mr. Grapes, which I know was a joke, but it must have been hurting him! He… he loves us, but we haven't been great about showing him that we love him back. That's why he's been down! That's why he's been avoiding us, his family, and it's also why he's been staying here, solving more cases than you and Jake solved during your little bet!"

Amy scoffed. "That's impossible… Charles isn't even that smart, he can't—'"

Rosa shoved one of his finished case files into her hands, and she opened it, studying the contents. Amy's eyes widened: his notes were clean and detailed, his writeup went above Holt's expectations…

"He said he was too afraid to 'take anyone's thunder'." Amy managed weakly, the truth of Rosa's words sinking into her.

"Because he puts other people's needs in front of his own," Rosa said quietly and bitterly. "Remember that airplane ride back to Brooklyn? After you gained intel on Figgis? Who was reassuring you?"

"Boyle was."

"Who convinced Jake to carry on with your relationship?" Rosa prompted.

"Boyle did."

Rosa seethed. "Who set up your goddamn wedding?!"

Amy grew annoyed. "Boyle did!"

Rosa chuckled. "And you couldn't trust him with the fact that you and Jake were trying for a baby."

Amy felt tears prick her eyes. "I didn't know it would hurt him that bad!"

"Because we don't care about his emotions!" Rosa cried. "He cares about us, but we don't care about him… what kind of friends are we?"

With that, Rosa left Amy inside the evidence room. She grabbed her motorcycle helmet: if Amy was right about the fact that she had fallen asleep for 2 hours, Boyle should have just been leaving his house, especially if he didn't want to be discovered by his wife and son.

"Detective Diaz!" Holt called, but Rosa ignored him. She ran towards the stairwell, dashing for her motorcycle. She needed to see him. She needed to talk to him.

Amy ran out of the evidence room. "Where did she go?"

Jake frowned. "She left, and took her motorcycle helmet and left. What's wrong?"

Amy grabbed her keys. "I just watched the surveillance footage, before Boyle left the building. He looked really hurt. I think he's in trouble." Before Jake could ask anymore questions, Amy left the precinct, and Jake was quick to follow.

ooo

Rosa pulled up to the Boyle household, inspecting the building: his car was still out, so he had to be here.

"Charles!" Rosa snapped, pounding the door.

When there was no answer, she felt a sinking feeling in her gut, and she didn't hesitate to grab her gun. She found herself shooting the doorknob, and kicking the door down.

She heard soft sobs coming from Nikolaj's bedroom, so she quietly crept her way towards it.

"I'm so sorry, buddy," Charles whimpered, clutching his son's shirt. "I thought I'd be strong enough for this, but I… I can't do this." he sniffled.

Her eyes widened when she spotted a knife near him. When he reached for it, she didn't hesitate to kick the door open. She tackled him, and punched him across the jaw—he didn't get angry like she expected, in fact, he didn't respond at all. He squeezed his eyes shut, allowing his tears to flow freely, and Rosa pulled him into a hug: they stayed like that, with her holding him, running her hands through his hair. He buried his face into her chest, and she felt her jacket become wet with his tears, but she didn't care.

That's how Jake and Amy found them: with Charles clutching onto Rosa for dear life, a knife just a few feet away from them. Jake slowly walked inside the bedroom, dropped onto his knees, and wrapped both Rosa and Charles in a hug, gently resting his chin on top of Boyle's head. Amy was quick to join, wrapping her arms around Boyle's waist, pulling him in close.

No context was needed. 

ooo

I love Charles and Rosa’s friendship.

I know I made Jake and Amy seem like antagonists here, but the sad part is, it isn’t even that far off from their usual behaviour towards Charles. It doesn’t sit right with me when he’s treated like shit, so... guess I just made my own form of justice for him. 

[dweetwise]

ok lowkey. that spirit thing was mweh😘 how strange yet oddly interesting. if you dont mind doing something similar... could you ... maybe write something where Zarina befriends the Nurse? like the nurse is getting bullied by all the other survivors and Zarina is just like 'bruh why?'. this happened once in a match and i cant get it outta my head😤🤡 love LOVE your work. keep it up

[thanks anon ily 😳😳😳 hope this is ok! there’s a special place in my heart for baby nurses, they are so pure <3]

zarina never had to deal with op old nurse bless her

Zarina befriends the Nurse: ficlet

Hearing yet another wail from the Nurse echoing across the map, Zarina looks up from her generator into the misty grounds of the asylum. The match had surely been going on for nearly ten minutes already, and the teleporting killer had yet to down any of the survivors.

Finishing up the repairs on her generator, Zarina starts navigating towards the sound of the screeches. On her way, she doesn’t spot a single one of her teammates on any of the generators, and frowns in irritation that the killer had apparently decided to farm with the others without anyone deeming it necessary to inform her.

“Forgot about the new chick again, huh?” she mutters to herself, already having had some trouble fitting in with the rowdy group of survivors and their already established dynamic.

Zarina finally reaches what seems to be the center for the commotion, arriving at the shack where Feng, Nea and David are running around in circles with the killer teleporting through the structure, landing a hit on David who the girls then immediately begin patching up right in front of the killer’s face. Zarina huffs out an annoyed breath that her assumptions were correct, turning away from the spectacle and fully intending to go elsewhere and refuse to participate in the others’ dumb little game, when...

“Oi, over ‘ere ya cunt!” David taunts, causing Zarina to clench her fists and whip around, ready to give the asshole Brit a piece of her mind for insulting her--

Only to see the still injured David pointing his flashlight in the Nurse’s face, prolonging the killer’s already painful looking fatigue state. Zarina swallows her misdirected anger and takes a more thorough look at the events unfolding at the shack.

She sees Feng Min get right up in the killer’s face, doing her stupid butt dance,  while Nea chain blinds the killer with her own flashlight, rendering her useless for a few more seconds. The killer takes a wild swing in Nea’s direction, but the street artist sidesteps.

“Ooh, big swing!” Nea mocks, clicky-clicking her flashlight and moonwalking around the Nurse while the killer recovers from her miss. 

“Baby killer, baby killer!” Feng’s high-pitched laugh echoes through the area as the gamer feigns vaulting the shack window, causing the Nurse’s bonesaw to uselessly hit the wood with a dull ‘thunk’.

“Couldn’t hit a cow’s arse with that aim--” David taunts from the shack entrance, making the Nurse quickly blink to him. David dashes through the pallet, avoiding the hit and proceeds to throw down the piece of wood on the killer, flashlight at the ready and already pointing at the Nurse. “Baited ya, bitch!”

“She’s so boosted!” Nea laughs, moving into position to reset the pallet in the blinded killer’s face while Feng injects a healing syringe into David’s shoulder. When the Nurse finally recovers from the combination of the fatigue, stun and blinds, only to have the now upright pallet be slammed right back in her face, Zarina decides enough is enough.

“What the hell are you doing!?” Zarina demands, approaching the scene. “Hey Zarina! Look at this baby killer!” Feng says, obnoxiously spam-pointing at the stunned Nurse. “Shouldn’t you be doing gens?” “Don’t get yer knickers in a twist, we’re just horsin’ around,” David grunts, rolling his shoulder from the sting of the syringe needle. “But why, though?” Zarina asks, shooting a glare in Nea’s direction where the Swede is once again blinding the killer with her flashlight. “Haven’t you done enough?”  “No offense newbie, but maybe you should go find a gen and leave this to us, yeah?” Nea says, a cocky smirk on her lips.

That moment, the Nurse manages to get control over her movements and executes a precise teleport to an injured David, only to have the syringe take effect a split second before the hit and fully heal his wounds, merely causing him to get injured again. Zarina thinks she hears the Nurse groaning in defeat, and she doesn’t blame her. With Nea sprinting right back up to the killer, flashlight in hand, and Feng running after David ready to tank a hit, the Nurse readies another blink and, to everyone’s surprise, teleports away in the direction of the main building.

“LMAO she gave up!” Feng laughs, the sound grating on Zarina’s nerves, as she begins patching up David. “Let’s go after her!” Nea suggests. “NO!” Zarina yells, absolutely done with her fellow survivors’ bullshit against the clearly struggling killer. “You’ve already won! Don’t you have any empathy?” she scolds the trio. “Oh I’m sorry princess, is the taaxic flashlight against your wittle journalist’s ethics?” Nea mocks, fake pouting. “We’ve put of with ‘er shite for years, least she can do is take a couple pallets in tha face,” David grumbles. “Yeah you try versing a five blink Nurse with a mori and tell us how fair and balanced that is,” Feng says, hands on her hips. “Whatever, that’s your problem,” Zarina says, not about to entertain the trio about whatever grudges they seem to be holding. “Just do the fucking gens and leave.”

With that, Zarina makes her way to the main building, thankful that the others seem to stay behind, at least for now. She feels compelled to apologize to the killer on her so-called friends’ behalf, once again trusting her strong moral compass to guide her to the right decisions. Before long she finds the Nurse in one of the rooms on the second floor of the asylum, sitting on a windowsill with an old photo frame in her hands.

“Umm... miss killer? Excuse me?” Zarina makes her presence known, peering in through the door frame. “You didn’t have to intervene, girl,” the Nurse says with unexpected softness and clarity in her voice. She looks almost serene, ominous heartbeat gone, sitting primly in front of the window and torn dress flowing gently with a breeze from the derelict wall.

“I know, it’s... I couldn’t just watch. I’m sorry about them, they’re--” “It’s fine. Truly. I understand,” she says, looking down at the photo again. “I haven’t exactly shown them mercy in the past, I would not expect them to act different.” “Are you... okay?” Zarina asks, cautiously approaching. The Nurse sighs. “This place, it... brings back memories I’d rather forget. I feel my focus slipping and my head is just not in it today.” “The others said you used to be more powerful--or p-perhaps just more ruthless, before...?” “I suppose that’s true,” the Nurse chuckles. “There was a time where I lost myself completely, the entity filling my mind with hatred. Now... I’m weaker, more often a disappointment to it, but... perhaps it’s for the best.” “Umm... not to point out the obvious, but--don’t you think it might help to take the bag off of your head so you could see better?” “You’d offer advice to me, an enemy? A rather peculiar survivor, you are,” the Nurse says, fondness in her voice. “As for the matter, I am able to see just fine, courtesy of the entity. Hiding my face is a choice, one of the few I still have. I--” her voice cracks. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up a touchy subject.” “What a curious one you are. Never give up that fire,” she says. “As for covering my head... he always loved seeing me smile,” she says, fondly stroking a finger over the picture, before handing the frame to Zarina, taking her completely off guard as she fumbles to grab the item.

In the frame is a picture of a happy couple on their wedding day, both smiling brightly and embracing each other. The man looks like a proper old-time gentleman, complete with a top hat and silly mustache. The woman is gorgeous, her pale skin and white gown a stark contrast to her fiery red hair and deep emerald green eyes.

“Is this you?” Zarina asks, slightly taken aback, reminded of the fact that the killers probably used to be normal people, just like her. “It was the happiest day of my life,” the Nurse says wistfully. “That was his favorite photo. He said it brought out my eyes, he--he loved my eyes, said they were a reflection of my soul, of our happiness. Which is why I can’t let anyone see my face.” “Because now you’re... unhappy?” Zarina asks, trying to understand. “Because I don’t want anyone to look into my eyes and see the madness that consumed me,” the Nurse whispers.

Zarina is at a loss for words, intrigued about the remorseful killer’s past but not wanting to pry further. She stares at the photo and tries to imagine how the cute, carefree woman in the picture could have ever turned into a bloodthirsty killer.

The sound of the exit gates being powered snaps her out of her thoughts, finally handing the frame back to its owner.

“Thanks for telling me all this,” Zarina says. “Can’t have been easy, what you’ve went through.” “I should be thanking you, for indulging a silly woman her tales,” the Nurse says. “Feel free to stop by, should you happen to wander into this realm from the campfire. I don’t often linger here, but... maybe it would not be so bad, had I company.” “You know, I might just take you up on that offer,” Zarina says, offering a small smile. The sound of a gate opening and the end game triggering reminds her that she’s on a time limit. “Shi--shoot, I’ve gotta run. See you around, uh... ms. Nurse?” “Please, call me Sally,” the killer says, primly bowing her head. “Zarina, was it? Do be careful out there. Your kindness might just be the end of you.” “Doesn’t sound so bad, as far as causes of death go,” Zarina quips, offering a cheeky grin before sprinting off the find the gate.

[sally is precious fight me. and lmao i didn’t even try to be subtle about who toxic nea is inspired by]

[idk-my-aesthetic]

a concept

U know how in the comics Aang starts rebuilding the air nation with ppl who are basically converts to their religion? By like teaching them about the air nomad’s ways and stuff?

What if he gave some of them air bending using energy bending? And they could start re-building the air nation and it’s culture by teaching them everything!! They could even start moving back into the temples now that they could fly and rebuilding

They’d even have the bison!! According to the wiki aang found a living herd after the war !!

Idk just. As a Jewish person genocide stories are really really personal to me. And the thought of being the last of my people is terrifying

I just really want the air nation to have a chance to rebuild in a natural way. And I think that like letting ppl choose to convert and gifting them with air bending would probably be the best way

Ik aang’s kids and grandkids have air bending but trying to rebuild an entire nation from one bloodline is.... not the best idea

And I also know that in lok a bunch of ppl are given air bending, but that whole story really rubs me the wrong way (no hate to lok though!! There are parts I like!!)

Under the cut is basically an explanation as to why I take issue w/ it and find it mildly offensive/an essay about cultural appropriation in general lol. but i don’t wanna kill ppl’s dashes so if you wanna see the explanation check there 

but i really think that aang like.... allowing ppl to convert, and teaching them, and gifting them w/ airbending in the most natural/best way for that story to go and i wanted to share that!! :) 

anyway time for a whole essay because i.... apparently need to explain and justify every single one of my opinions. i’ma blame the adhd. 

I have 2 main issues w/ the new air bender plot. a) the air Nomad religion/culture is pretty explicitly seen as a closed one and b) it’s sort of a cop-out.....

so... first:

 Air bending is pretty explicitly a huge part of the air nomad culture and religion and is extremely spiritual. bc of how religious and spiritual it is the idea of ppl just.... randomly being given it really rubs me the wrong way.

It’s really really hard for me to explain this or come up with an irl example, bc these ppl didn’t ask for air bending, or try to gain it in anyway. So it’s not really their fault. But to me it feels almost like accidental cultural appropriation? If that makes sense

Which like. cultural appropriation is obviously bad. Even in the comic I originally referenced (the promise) Aang is initally really really offended by the people practicing the air Nomad religion when he first finds out!!! Which he should be!!!

There’s a difference between cultural appropriation, culture appreciation, and sharing culture. The first is bad, and the second 2 are good when done correctly.

Ima use an irl example w/ Judaism just bc using this personal experiences is apparently the only way my brain knows how to explain things

Scenario 1: Amanda (who is xtian) decides to research the Jewish holiday of Passover and the traditions behind it just bc she’s interested in it

This is cultural appreciation! She’s just learning about smthn she finds interesting. This is generally ok! although in some cultures there is knowledge that you are not supposed to know or discuss if you are not part of that culture and you should 100% respect that if it is the case 

Scenario 2: Amanda learns about the Passover seder and decides to throw one herself

Dont fucking do this omfg. This is cultural appropriation. Passover is a super important and religions holiday! It’s one of the high holy days and celebrating it on her own isn’t ok! 

Scenario 3: Amanda asks her Jewish freind Alex if she can come to his Passover seder

This is cultural appreciation and cultural sharing!! It’s totally valid!! She respectfully asks to join in and be included! 

it’s diffrent from cultural apropriation for one huge reason. she is joining in, rather than celebrating it on her own with no jewish ppl present 

Scenario 4: Amanda eats gefitlefish just bc she likes it 

this is appreciation! even though there are no jewish ppl involved! bc gefiltefish isn’t a holy/religious/spiritual thing. 

different aspects of different cultures have different levels of importance. as a general rule, if smthn is holy/religious, you should not do anything with it, unless invited by someone of that culture. if it’s not then you can generally do it on ur own (though there is some grey area there. ie, moccasins are smthn that aren’t religious to native americans, but if ur not native you shouldn’t be producing and selling them. if you want moccasins by them from actual natives) 

scenario 5: amanda contacts a rabbi and starts the conversion process 

this is...... just conversion lol. when she is finished with the process (which can take months/years) she’ll no longer be xtian and be jewish!! just as much as anyone who was born into judiasm. she’ll be able to host her own seders and any of her children will be jewish as well :) 

sorry for the really long thing!!  but i felt it was necessary to show the difference between some concepts that seem similar but are actually vastly different!! 

anyway, i hope y’all understand the difference between cultural appropriation/appreciation/sharing. if ur asking urself “ok why does it matter tho” friendly reminder that alot of irl ppl have been murdered for trying to peacefully observe their cultures/religions :) 

including the air nomads! (hey segway...) 

they are literally hunted to extension because they are part of one culture/religion. you could argue it’s a racism thing (which it is) but race, culture, ethnicity and religion are all inherently tied. see: almost every non-xtian religion worldwide 

SO. when you consider that a) the nomads were killed for their religion b) airbending was incredibly significant part of that religion, isn’t it weird that random people who have 0 connection or interest in that religion suddenly have airbending?? 

again it becomes like accidental cultural appropriation. which you can’t really blame the characters for in-world

but, these aren’t real ppl. they’re characters in a situation that was written by real ppl, real ppl who can and should be criticized 

not that i’m trying to call the creators bigoted in anyway! this dosn’t seem like anything that was meant to be offensive. and it’s not really that offensive unless you think about it. to me it just seems like a plot point that wasn’t fully thought through. i don’t bring it up to shame the creators, just as a way to show others why it’s smthn not to be repeated 

and, to show a better way to do a similar story 

the reason i went so in depth w/ the explanation of cultural appropriation vs appreciation vs conversion is bc i wanna show why a different way of approaching a similar story would have been better

the reason i think my whole idea (of ppl basically contacting aang or the air nomads, converting to the religion, and then being gifted air bending through energy bending) is better than ppl being randomly gifted it is bc conversion takes work 

to convert to any culture or religion you a) need a connection to someone in that culture (usually made by reaching out to a religious leader) and b) need to actually be accepted by that group in order to be considered one of them. it takes work and dedication. it’s a literal transfer of culture!! it’s just... ack i’m not good at explaining it 

but dosn’t it make so much more sense that ppl who actually worked to integrate themselves into the culture and become one of them are givin airbending? not because it’s a privilege but bc they need to first become part of the culture in order to have any right or claim to it 

but by just giving it to random non-benders it’s basically the reverse!! yes they later learn the culture and religon, but???? thats not how that works??? wtf??? 

i feel like i’ve been talking in circles and i’m sorry if i’ve bored everyone to death but i hope u understand my point. 

anyway! next thing! (i swear this part will be way shorter) 

by just making a bunch of random ppl airbenders it basically retcons one of the longlasting effects of the 100 yr war and almost just... erases the impact of the air nomad’s genocide 

which. is gross and uncomfortable. genocide stories are touchy subjects and smthn that need to be treated with respect 

just giving random ppl airbending it’s almost like the genocide didn’t matter at all. which i take a huge fucking issue w/ ok and i don’t feel like i need to explain why 

instead of a natural rebuilding of the air nomads it’s just fixed with spirit magic. it’s just... an insult to the really compelling and well written genocide story that was in atla and an insult to the irl ppl who related to that story 

so. yeah.... again i’m not trying to call out the creators, i again think this plotline was more accidentally insulting than purposefully 

i already propsed a better way to do it by allowing converts to gain the ability to airbend. (hell it dosn’t even need to come from energy bending or aang. the air nomads were incredibly spiritual, maybe a spirit gifted it to the ppl who earned it instead of random fucking ppl) 

but the other reason that converts instead of just.... random ppl gaining the ability is better is bc there aren’t gonna be that many ppl to convert!! there’s not gonna be some sudden boom in the airbending population!! theres would still be a story of the nation slowly healing and rebuilfing itself instead of the insulting sudden magic fix

oof. sorry for the long freaking thing. i literally went into this just wanting to share an idea and instead spent over an hour analyzing this stuff lol.... 

i hope this was coherent but if anyone’s got questions about anything i said feel free to @ me or shoot me an ask :) as long as ur polite and stuff i’ll answer to the best of my ability 

[honeysuckle-writings]

Part one PG Amasai

**This is like the first thing I've ever posted on here. So I hope you enjoy it? I'd love to continue if you do.**

'One, two, three...FUCK.'

"Mr. Saihara?"

'Just one more time... I'll finally get it.'

"Saihara."

'One, two, THREE.'

A loud thunk echoed, bringing the boy in question out of his thoughts. Saihara had been thumbing away at his portable gaming console and not giving any thought to the people around him, including the teacher that was now looming over him, with a book in hand that he had hit the desk with. Saihara must have lost track of time and didnt realize class had started. Shit.

"Uh..uhm.." Saihara began to stutter out.

"Uh uh." The teacher interrupted. "You know the drill."

"Y-yeah I do. Im-m sorry." What was he supposed to do? A new mini game had just come out for his favorite series, Danganronpa. Did people just expect him not to beat it the day it released just so he could have bragging rights? No one understood.

Unfortunately he had to stay after school for an hour or two as punishment. Not that it bothered him. He didn't exactly care to be at home. He would just end up hiding away in his room with his laptop anyway.

He lived solely with his Uncle who was a detective so he wasn't home that often. He never really knew what happened to his parents. He had been told quite a few different stories but they were never the same so Saihara gave up asking. Having detention would just pass time until dinner.

He put away the console into his messenger bag and continued trying to pay attention to the rest of the class. Key word being tried; His mind always wandered. He would always end up studying and doing well on his own so he would often daydream while in classes. He could just pick up where he left off in the game at lunch.

Two more hours rolled by just like normal. During transition times he would quickly zoom through the crowd to get to the next classroom without having to face any humiliation from bullys. He really didn't feel like battling them today.

Finally he had reached lunch time. He'd finally be able to play again. Saihara had packed a fruit bowl and a bottle of water into his bag this morning for lunch, so there was no need to crawl through the lines of students trying to buy their lunch.

He dashed to the back of the school. It had finally begun to turn autumn. The trees were all different shades of reds, yellows, and oranges while the brown ones had fallen to the ground. With each step he relished in the sound of them crushing. The cool air made it the perfect time to be outside. He had found a tree on the outskirts of the campus line and let his bag slump off his shoulder.

"Bout time you get here." A voice called from behind him.

"I'm s-sorry Akamatsu. I was trying to get here as, as fast as I could." He turned to face the blonde girl behind him. Her signature resting bitch face glaring at him.

"Did you bring the game?" She asked in a low tone. It felt like they were doing a more illegal exchange.

"Of course I-I did. Do you th-think I'm dumb?" Saihara was almost offended. Akamatsu was one of the only people he knew that loved Danganronpa too. Not as much as him of course, but she did have the same aspirations as him.

"No. Just stupid." She responded bluntly before sitting down on the ground beside his bag.

"Ha ha." He faked a laugh and joined her. She had her hands inside of his bag digging out the console. He didnt mind, he was used to her being very abrasive. He opted for looking around while she booted up the game.

Suddenly his heart began to have palpitations and his stomach started twisting. Off in the distance his eyes were glued on a tall man with green hair lighting up a cigarette as he went to cross over to the convinient store. Many of the more, rough students would go there to smoke or create chaos.

"Hey I fucking swear if you drool on yourself I'm going to take this home with me and hold it for ransome." Akamatsu called out to him.

Saihara wiped his mouth and frowned. "S-sorry."

The green haired man's name was Rantaro Amami, and Saihara had the biggest crush on him. Amami had already been in one of the killing games and survived. Saihara had watched every episode, with his crush growing more and more as he watch Amami help figure out the blackened. He almost didn't know how to react when he saw him in school. He was a celebrity, an idol, to Saihara. They hadn't even spoke but Saihara had thought of the most inappropriate fantasies involving the two of them. He vowed that one day he would finally open up to him. Whether it be during school or perhaps they could be on a season together. The thoughts sent shivers down Saihara's spine.

"You might as well talk to the guy." Akamatsu had begun pressing buttons and working through the beginning of the game on her own save file. "What's the worst that could happen? He says no?"

"Punch m-me and tell me t-to fuck off." Saihara answered.

"Okay but you'd get off on that so I dont see a problem here." Damnit she really did know him.

"Maybe one day."

"You say that everytime."

"Okay jeez." He tipped the hat he always wore down over his eyes a bit more, slightly embarrassed. Amami had already crossed over to the store and out of sight much to Saihara's dismay.

They stayed pretty quiet after that. Akamatsu stuck in the game and Saihara left to watch and help if she needed it, though most of the time she didn't. The hour flew by and Saihara watched for another sign of Amami. He had finished his fruit with Akamatsu's help.

"Fuck we're gunna have to go back to class. I dont want to." Akamatsu saved her place and sat it down on the ground near Saiharas bag.

Saihara looked away from the store and back to his friend. "Lucky me, I have to stay after school for a bit."

"Sucks." She stood up and brushed flakes of leaves off of her skirt. "Can I take the game while you're locked up?"

Saihara huffed. "Fine. B-but you cant take it home. I'll find y-you and kill you."

"Dont make promises you cant keep." She grabbed it off the ground and started back towards the school. "See you fucker." He watched her disappear before he stood up himself.

He slung the bag over his shoulder and looked over at the store once more. Perhaps he had just missed Amami. He huffed at the thought and gripped the strap of his bag before making his way to his next class. The kids had already scattered and the last thing he needed was to be late and have to stay even longer.

The crunch of leaves turned into steps on pavement as he followed the small groups of kids into the school.

"Hey freak!"

Fuck. Saihara knew that voice. Kaito Momota, the schools biggest asshole.

Without thinking Saihara began to sprint and push people out of the way.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Suddenly he was stopped after he hit directly into the back of someone. He fell on to his knees and caught himself with his hands. Oh god he was embarrassed.

The person he had run into didnt get nearly as affected. They had just been pushed forward slightly.

Saihara started to sputter an apology as he noticed their feet had turned to face him. His eyes slowly raised from the person's shoes, to their brown cardigan, to their face- Amami.

Amami stood over him with a scowl on his face and dark eyes.

Oh god Saihara was on his knees in front of him. His face immediately flushed.

"Oh m-my god I'm s-sorry. I didn't-"

"Didn't see me?" Amamis low voice finished his sentence. Amamis voice was so sensual, it did things to Saihara that he wouldnt admit to anyone else. Not even Akamatsu.

"Yeah, uhm."

"You going to get up?" Amami crossed his arms and Saihara had to keep from drooling at the sight of them and the thought of his hands grabbing him and-

"Alright suit yourself." Amami turned to leave.

This brought Saihara out of his daydream and he quickly stood up. "No!"

"Excuse me?" Amami stopped.

"I-I I mean uhm. No I n-need to apologize." Saihara knew he had to be as red as the color on Amamis loose tie.

"Okay. Go on."

"Uhm, I'm sorry f-for running into you."

"Okay."

"Hey you cant out run me!" Oh great, just what he needed. Amami to see just how much of a weakling he was.

Saihara bit his lip and looked toward Momota.

Momota walked up to the two of them, glaring at Amami. The tension between the two was something Saihara was not prepared for.

"The fuck are you doing Momota?" Amami questioned him.

"Look stay outta my business. The kid and I got some catch up to do."

"Dont you have anything better to do than compensate for your tiny ass dick." Amami didnt miss a bit nor was he phased by Momota.

"Do you want me to fuck you up right here pretty boy?"

"I'm not into that. Now leave."

Momota seemed to be thrown off at the comment and he glared at Saihara. He took this as a warning for next time. With that, Momota stormed off.

Saihara was grateful. No one had ever gotten Momota to leave like that.

"Amami. Thank you."

"Shut. Dont drag me into your shit anymore. I already deal with him."

"I-im sorry?" Saihara was not quite expecting the response. He knew Amami was a little cold but he was not prepared.

"Just be careful next time." Amami turned and walked off.

That response seemed, somehow softer. Amami was turning out to be very confusing and it only intrigued Saihara more.

[waltrp]

AREN’T YOU.....A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS?

BIDDI BOPPI BOOP A SPECIAL MESSAGE ADMIN ZULEMA: WHO PUT THE GLAD IN GLADIATORS? ASH. Hercules is one of my favorite disney movies and one of my favorite casts here at walt. to see our boy Herc FINALLY be taken up. Truly a blessing from the gods on Mount Olympus themselves. Did I find this entire app endearing and maybe even squeal a little ? absolutely. You captured Herc’s loneliness, loyalty, and his essence so beautifully. Another stellar app from a stellar writer. I am so excited to see him on the dash ! You have 24 hours to send in your account. Please refer to THIS PAGE for your next tasks. We can’t wait to roleplay with you. Welcome to our Ohana xx.

It’s a pleasure to meet you…

ash, 22, gmt, she/her

Are you positive you can be active?

I have realised i am on a very different time zone to everyone else but im online 80% of my day so i am very very active!

How did you stumble upon Walt?

The gods gave me a gift in the zane holt tag a few weeks ago!

Did you read the rules?

Yes indeedy

Are you sure?

Scuttle,  I mean I could probably make that happen if im successful with this app

Character you want?

Hercules Zervous

Please describe the character for us

I would describe Herc as a lost soul. A kid with so much potential to be one of the greats but cast out of society because he is too different for them. A person who has been so careful to try and fit in with a crowd only to be constantly let down by them. A lost soul who even though he knows his worth he’s having a hard time finding his place in this world among the normal people. A kid who never gives up trying, who wants to help the people who wouldn’t give him the time of day. A genuinely caring person in a sea of greed.    

Second character choice

None at this time.

It’s time to see that sample para.

Hercules grunted as the weights hit the clip with a loud clash, the sweat was rolling down his forehead onto his face in thick, warm droplets, the muscles in his arms were trembling and his grey t-shirt was stuck to his defined back after laying down on the bench. He leaned away from the bar and sat up wiping at his face with the end of his t-shirt, Phil had really been pushing him lately with the workouts every week it was getting more and more challenging but Hercules liked having a hurdle to jump over. He stretched out his big arms and his sweaty back before he stood up straight and got a good look of himself in the gyms mirror, he didn’t look half bad. His abs were glistening with sweat under his shirt, the veins in his arms were popping after being flexed for so long and his legs were chunky, strong and toned in all the right areas, not even the insane amount of leg hair could put a girl off him. Looking in the mirror he tousled at his red hair that was now matted to his head and sighed. He had all the makings of a model, a chiseled body, a pretty face, a charming smile, a hero complex. Realistically Hercules should have been the guy all the guys wanted to be and who all the girls wanted to date, but that wasn’t the case. Hercules didn’t have a friend in the world.

Picking up his damp towel and water bottle Herc made his way towards the showers trying to ignore the hurt in his heart when people averted his gaze, he wasn’t sure if it was a personality thing or a Californian thing but even here the people didn’t seem to want to get to know him. Reaching his locker Herc set down his belongings and watched as friends laughed and chatted together about girls and weekend plans and gains, he tried nodding at a couple of the guys to weigh in on their conversation but they shut him out like he wasn’t even there. With a defeated sigh Herc reached for a clean towel and checked his phone for the time, seeing a new message from Phil he sat down to open it.

[MSG: FROM PHIL]: Hey Kid saw your fitbit activity you are CRUSHING IT! Round 2 later?

Hercules sighed sadly, there had to be more to this journey than workouts with Phil.

[MSG: TO PHIL]: Thanks man i’m feeling the burn now. Actually I cant later I signed up for that build a community together project. It starts at 11am.

[MSG: FROM PHIL]: You know kid you’re burning yourself out. These people they aren’t like you they don’t understand. Dont set yourself on fire to keep them warm if they have their own matches.

[MSG: TO PHIL]: This time its actually about giving back. I’m not looking for anyone to throw me a parade I’d settle for just a conversation.

[MSG: FROM PHIL]: Well be careful, people are idiots. Also have fun, you deserve a day off.

Hercules scoffed at Phil’s text and slipped his phone back into his gym bag. He sat on the bench and exhaled slowly, for weeks he had been trying to make friends in Elias. Joining sports teams and book clubs, a cooking class, an actual gym outside of his home, community groups, charity groups, he was trying so hard to fit in and help the local people. I mean It wasn’t as if he could slay a dragon to save them– or stop a rolling bolder with his bare hands from crushing an old lady, the old world wasn’t the same as the new world and Hercules began to worry that he would never make it home to his parents. He had to become a different kind of hero to what his Father was, not one who saved damsels from monsters or villages from beasts, Hercules would have to be something much more valuable to Elias, he just needed to figure out what that was.

Slamming the locker door shut Hercules stood up and began to walk towards the steaming showers lost in thought, his sandals clipped against the tiles as he made his way past the lockers pausing at a community bulletin board. A hopeful smile danced across his lips as his eyes took in the colorful piece of paper in the middle of the board, it was like a sign from Zeus himself saying not to give up. Hercules let out a delightful chuckle as he tore the paper from its pinned place and reread over the words in thick black font. DO YOU HAVE WHAT IT TAKES TO BE A HERO? JOIN THE ELIAS FIRE FIGHTERS TODAY! Hercules grinned ecstatically at the flyer, oh this was perfect, it just what he needed when he needed it. With a careful touch this time, he placed the notice back onto its original placement and nodded at it before triumphantly continuing his walk to the showers whistling a joyous tune. This was how he would get home.

Anything else, love?

I dont know if im allowed take up a second chara or not yet but i thought i would try apply anyway:)

sad breakfast club

[yellowsugarwords]

violentine HC's in which Violet loses an eye during the whole Delta thing and since Clem spent a shit ton of time with Kenny she 100% knows what to do and just helps her a lot? (Idk with that new fanart in the tag and Violet not shutting the fuck up about losing eyeballs i kinda wonder if it's foreshadowing her losing an eye and idk i thought it would be interesting) i get you may not be ok with writing this kind of thing you dont have to write this

here you go!! I’ll do my best :)

Lilly had been brutal.

She hadn’t spared anyone when she arrived at Ericson.

Even if they didn’t take anyone.

Violet had it the worst.

In an attempt to grab her, Lilly wrapped her arm around her neck.

She caught her from behind.

Violet had bitten down on her hand.

Lilly screamed and released her grip.

Violet didn’t.

In an attempt to get Violet off, Lilly had taken a knife to her face.

That made Violet stop.

And scream.

Delta fled after that.

Lily was bleeding bad from the bite.

Violet was almost unconscious.

They left without taking anyone.

They didn’t have time.

But they were angry.

But Clementine stomached the terror for what that meant.

She dashed to front of the Ericson lot where Violet was.

She was screaming.

She didn’t care if walkers heard.

Louis and Aasim were shutting the gates.

And Delta had generated enough noise that she was covered.

“Vi!” She wailed, throwing herself down to her side.

She was bleeding.

She was bleeding bad.

“I’ll get Ruby,” Aasim said, darting away.

Louis took a position on the other side of her body.

Clementine held her hand and sobbed.

Violet, faintly, squeezed.

“Let’s lie her down somewhere,” Louis said, reaching to set a hand on Clem’s shoulder.

She looked up.

The brokenness in her eyes spoke for her.

Louis helped bring Violet to her feet.

She could barely walk, so Clem and Louis did most of the work.

Violet’s arms were draped over each of them.

Tenn, confused and terrified, had shakily wrangled together blankets.

“Thank you,” Clem heaved through her teary nose.

Tenn said nothing.

He just let her take them.

Clem folded up two blankets and tucked them under Vi’s head.

To elevate her for operation.

She used the other one to drape over her.

“She’s losing a lot of blood,” Louis rushed out, ripping a chunk of fabric off the blanket.

He passed it to Clementine.

She held it, half-heartedly, against the blonde’s face.

Clem was silent.

Only for a moment.

“We don’t need Ruby,” she said, lowering the cloth.

“What?” Louis scoffed.

He was terrified as to what she meant.

Did she mean she was to far gone?

That she was going to let Violet die?

“I’ve patched up an eye before,” she said, adjusting her wrists. “I’ll do it.”

“Clem–”

“Finding Ruby will take too long!” She snapped, her voice forceful and bubbling.

They locked stares.

Her rage melting with his confusion.

Underlying both of them was terror.

Clementine turned back to Violet.

They both knew she mattered most.

Not their squabbling.

“I need a med kit.” She said.

AJ, behind her, darted away.

Louis stayed, clinging to Violet.

“Vi?” Clementine breathed, placing the bloodied cloth back.

Violet groaned.

Clem lifted her cold hand to hold the fabric in place. “Keep that there, okay? Just for a minute.”

Violet groaned again.

Each time, it ripped Clem’s heart out a bit more.

AJ returned with the kit.

Clem ripped it open and passed it to Louis. “Hold it open for me.”

Louis didn’t dispute.

He obeyed.

And then watched.

Clementine took a cotton swab and pumped disinfectant onto it.

She inwardly cringed.

Louis, seeing her, did too.

“Violet,” she hushed. “This is going to hurt, okay?”

Violet gulped.

She said nothing.

She held onto Violet’s hand.

Violet squeezed.

Hard.

Her hand was shaking.

Clem said nothing.

She set the gauze against Violet’s eye.

She wailed.

Screamed.

As if her eye was being ripped out.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Clementine tried to hush.

The tears were clambering in her throat.

They were muffling her words.

She felt like the bones in her hand were going to break.

It reminded her of so many people she had lost before her.

Sarita’s screams.

Kenny’s.

Wails from Christa after she lost Omid.

After she lost the baby.

She couldn’t lose Violet to.

She couldn’t.

“You’re gonna be okay,” she whispered, releasing and adding pressure to the cotton swab.

Her screaming turned to sobs.

Louis brushed away her tears with his thumb.

Clementine could see the lump in his throat.

She could feel it from across the table.

She abandoned the swab.

She folded up the compress from before.

She set it back against the wound.

“Okay Vi, you’re almost done.”

Behind her, she could hear running footsteps.

Thank God she had Louis there.

He waved them away. “We need water. Now.”

Ruby and Aasim didn’t question it.

They left.

Clem held the cloth to Vi’s eye.

“Louis, can you help?”

Her voice was foggy and choked.

Louis lifted his stare from Vi’s paling face.

“Of course,” he said softly.

He could hear Clem’s pain.

He felt it too.

“Can you hold this to her eye while I wrap the gauze?”

Louis nodded, leaned over, and did so.

Clementine held the back of Violet’s head while sealing in the fabric.

Thankfully, they had lots of bandages in the kit.

She used plenty on Violet.

“Thank you Clem,” Violet wheezed.

“It’s okay, Vi,” Clem sniffled out. “Just rest, okay?”

Violet stayed quiet.

She rested.

Just as it was fastened in place, Ruby and Aasim returned.

Louis helped Violet sit up so she could drink.

Clementine fed it to her.

Omar scurried forward just as they were bringing her back down. “Here,”

He passed two cloths to Clem.

“I warmed them by the fire.”

Urgently, Clem placed one on Vi’s forehead.

She brought her wrists together and put the other cloth there.

Violet hummed.

“Is that okay?” Clementine asked, a hand pressing on her forehead.

Pushing the cloth in deeper.

Violet gave a sleepy smile. “Yeah,”

Louis wiped away another tear.

Violet opened her one eye.

For the first time.

And turned to Clem.

Clem caught her words in her throat.

Violet could see her lump there.

She wanted to kiss it away.

“I’m alright, you.” She said softly.

Clementine recognized that.

And she cried.

And she kissed her.

[hedgewolf-hunters]

Silence is golden

Drake: Hey you guys want to see one of my adventures from last week? Than take a seat and open those ears up cause have i got a story for you.

In the city of Etrinitat on the corner of main and etheral st a two story old-fashioned wooden establishment sits. The sign a top the doors reads, Alpha & Omega, Bar and grill. Inside was a bustling collection of mobians big and small from avians to deep diggers to the deepest underwater divers. A female dark red wolf is behind a bar counter serving older customers liquor drinks and scaring off under age kids. She has two blue stripes under her sea blue eyes and her hair like fur is done in a single massive braid. Shes wearing a sleevless leather jacket with a tank top underneath, dark blue skin tight jeans and spiked boots on her feet.

"Mom im cutting out early today." A maroon colored male wolf with hedgehog quills barely extending from his head says to the female. He has a black stripe going down the only two quills he has and the same matching blue stripes under his glowing amber eyes. The male is in a sleevless parka, black zipper boots, and gloves with a slightly raised bump on the knuckles.

"Yeah and do what my son?" She asks. Turning to him after serving another customer. The boy places down a crystal double tapping it so a hologram of a bounty appears. Its of a raccon with a list of crimes.

"Drake this guy is an sociopath with a hard on for killing hunters and civilians. Not to mention he probably has a following with him." The woman says.

"Mom i know this. Its the reason i took the job in the first place. You know physical attacks either don't connect or do any real damage, not to mention I'm probably one of only two other people in this building who can actually get close to him." Drake says.

"Sky let the boy go. He needs to learn to take care of himself anyway, and he cant do that if you hold him back from jobs or doing them alone." A purple hedgehog says from the door leading to the kitchen. Her eyes are normal amber compared to the boys, her quills done in a ponytail are greying slightly at the tips as they stop just past halfway down the door. She has a single white stripe on top of her head down her middle quill and a black stripe down each of her outer quills. Shes dressed in sports top and short, and hightop shoes with a chef outfit over it all.

"Thank you Aunt Aura. See mom even Auntie thinks i should give at least one solo job a shot. Look if it doesnt turn out to well than i will not ask again to take a solo. But if it does than can you please just let me do my own every now and then?" Drake asks his over protective mother. Sky bites her lip wanting to say no but knowing they both have a point.

"Fine. But if you get into any trouble trigger the flare and your brother will be there to back you up." Sky says locking a braclet around her second sons wrist.

"Will do ma. Alright ill be back in a couple days. He's in the grassland plains. How he hasnt been caught already, besides his psychotic nature, ill be finding out soon enough." Drake says picking up the crystal and running out the door. He kicks into high gear once outside the bar and runs across the city in a minute flat to the west wall gate.

By nightfall Drake has finally escaped the great forest that surrounds his home and the city. He groans stretching.

"Damn i really wish i had dads super speed, but no, it went to Scarlet and Inferna only. Me and Bane gotta push just to keep up and i have to push harder since Bane can clear the forest in minutes thanks to his wings." Drake grumbles to himself as he stretches his sore legs. A orb flies out from his jacket.

"Oh stop complaining. Your compensation for these little differences is me and our shared abilities. After all none of them can use the Astral plane, like i told you to use, to travel nearly instantly." A feminine voice says from the orb.

"I got excited and forgot ok. No need to chew my head off Aster. Besides wheres the adventure in instant travel? If we had we wouldn't had to chase away those pups from the cargo transport and kept supplies running to the city." Drake says to the orb. The feminine voice huffs and returns to his jacket.

"Fine but when this job is done we go home my way. Last thing we need is for you to lose your prey fending off adolescent feral wolves again." Aster says before going silent again. Drake chuckles as he starts running again headed to the city of the plains Primous.

Day break arrives and Drake yawns from his room inside a old fashioned inn. He arrived around midnight in the city and could only find this building to rest in. He stretches getting a few pops in his back from sleeping on the lumpy mattress. He grunts as he gets up off the bed and walks to the sink in the room. He spashes ice cold water in his face and reaches into one of his inner jacket pockets. Seemingly deeper than it looks he pulls out some morning hygiene tools.

Half an hour later Drake heads down to the main floor and walks out waving bye to the shop keep. The town is now bustling with buisness, cars driving by pedestrians walking around and kids heading to schools nearby. Drake smiles as he jumps up onto the roof and takes in a birds eye view of the city. Whistling as the crowded busy streets clog up in the mornng traffic. A few sky scrapers litter the city and a few cathedrals, his targets usual dumping sites. Smirking Drake jumps from the building and lands on the sidewalk, he heads into the deeper parts of town blending in as much as he can.

Three hours later Drake is stopped at the last cathedral in the city.

"The place where it all started. A city inspector came to check on the building and found several dead bodies placed in various forms of worship. The cops caught video footage of the raccoon in question shortly after the bodies were found in other cathedrals. Mobians have been scared of this place ever since and the neighborhood has been evacuated do to that fear." Aster says while Drake stands by the doors.

"And some mobians have come to worship him as a new messiah with the messages he's left with the last seven victims. I wonder why is it than that they cant trace his signal during the 'Prayer' as its been labeled. Someones gotta have a clue to where this loon is." Drake mumbles as he stares at the gothic doorway of the church. He scratches his head as he turns around and bumps into a young female raccoon.

"My bad little lady didnt see you there." Drake says taking a knee to help her up. She shakes her head with a small smile as she takes his hand of help. Drake smells the blood and goes wide eyed for a second before passing out from a needle in his neck. Aster stays silent as Drake passes out.

"See momma I caught the bad man after daddy." The raccoon girl says pulling the needle out and waving at a bush. The female fox that ran the inn Drake slept at walks out.

"Good girl. Now lets get him inside before anyone sees." The fox says grabbing Drake by his feet.

An hour later Drake groans awake strapped to a table with a light glaring down at him. He thinks back to what happened before he fell out. The flash back coming back he sighs and grinds his teeth a little.

"Seems someone is noticing his mistake." Aster says. Drake glares at his jacket quickly and than lays back.

"Cant blame you for that one, i deserved it. Guess the bait was too good for him to pass up." Drake mutters under his breath to Aster. She snorts in reply and Drake feels something hovering over his hands.

"Not yet, let the bait settle a little more. But if you feel like im in trouble...feel free to get dirty." Drake says the sensation leaves his wrist as Aster sighs. Drake whistles a tune from his childhood as he waits for the next half an hour till his target appears. A four foot tall raccon with well built frame wearing a priests robe.

"Hello my little sheep. Glad to see your comfy in your protective bindings." The raccoon says.

"Well you left me on this slab with nothing to get comfy with so i made do." Drake replies.

"Heh you are quite the talkative type arent you little sheep." He says.

"No shit Sherlock, I've been stuck up here for half an hour with nothing to do but whistle an old lullaby." Drake says

"Hmm, do you know why you are here little-"

"Call me little sheep one more time and I'm gonna tear a hole through your windpipe." Drake interrupts the raccoon getting tired of that comendering tone that follows the words.

"Fine than hunter, i assume you are here for my head but it seems you're about to lose yours." The raccoon says dropping the fatherly tone to his true thug accent. He walks towards a table with a bloody cloth over it and powerlines leading out from underneath it.

"You assume I'll lose my head here, but let me ask you, do you know why i didn't tear your daughter in half before the needle touched my skin? Or why I didn't drag your wife out of the bushes when they hid behind me?" Drake asks making the raccoon stop in his tracks. Aster uses the moment to slice the straps lightly, enough that they can be broken with even the slightest move. The raccoon turns around glaring at Drake.

"Dude you think I didnt notice the table setting in the back of the inn? Or that i was being followed from cathedral to cathedral? Not to mention your ladies eyes when she heard me say i was a hunter." Drake says. The raccoon looks confused.

"Than why did you allow yourself to be captured?" He asks walking over to Drake puzzled now.

"Honestly i didnt know you would send your own flesh and blood to capture me, that threw me for a loop for a second. But its just how I hunt by myself. I dont go looking for prey i let them come to me." Drake finishes with a grin freeing his hand and grabbing the raccoon by his robe and tossing him over the table with the power tools. Drake quickly curls into a spin dash to free himself and stands up on the floor. Two gunshots in his direction make him turn towards the firing squad of the wife and child. Rubbing the bridge of his nose Drake summons Aster in physical form. A scythe blade with a gap where its connected to the curved staff, a smaller blade growing out the opposite side. Gold trimm visibly and bulbously formimg a drip down pattern down the staff till it reaches the bottom where the gold turns into a spear point.

Drake spins the scythe around in his hand as he walks towards the two females. Bullets bounce off the scythe like rubber as Drake gets closer to them. Once the ammunition is out Drake stops spinning the scythe and grabs a point on the foxes collar bone that sends her to sleep. He back steps the small Raccoon and slams the wood down across her back before striking her several times with his fingers in specific locations to immobolize her and put her to sleep as well.

"Now that the peanut gallery is take care of, where were we?" Drake asks gibing Aster one final spin before resting her against his shoulder. The male Raccoon has stumbled back on the floor.

"You are some sort of Demon, you must be!" He exclaims. Drake snorts as he grips Aster with both hands.

"Hear that Aster, he thinks we're demons." Drake says. A shimmer from the balde makes the Raccoon back up more.

"Ah if only he could hear me, id havea few choice words for him to show him how demon like we are." Aster says to Drake. Drake grins watching as the man scrambles for a knife. He stops a few feet away from the raccoon whos now on his feet with a serrated blood covered machete. Drake leans one foot forward and one foot back, lowering Aster to hover above the floor he holds her with both hands at the ready to swing. The raccoon charges at Drake like a scared child wildy swinging the machete. Drake waits till hes within two feet of them and swings Aster in an upward arc going right through him, than coming back down in the opposite direction. He side steps as the raccoon passes him still swinging scared. Drake finishes by slicing aster through his neck. All three attacks leave no mark on the raccoon whos confused as he felt the blade go through him all three times.

"Im gonna give you two options now psycho. Come quietly and live out your days in a jail cell nice and comfy. Or." Drake says snapping his fingers. The cuts slowly form where the blade touched, not deep like they should be but enough that they are drawing faint amounts of blood.

"I let your cuts form fully to the point of no return." Drake says making a slicing motion with his thumb across his throat. The raccoon gasps in pain feeling the sensation of the two across his body getting deeper agonizingly slowly.

"Please, just stop the pain! Take me in but stop this torture." He begs. Drake raises a brow and steps over to the writhing raccoon.

"You think this is pain? You think i should show you mercy that you never showed to twenty others? No this isnt pain and suffering, this isnt torture yet little sheep." Drake says makimg the raccoon look up at him for a moment. In that moment drake showed him something few others see unless he wants them too.

"Remember you know nothing of suffering, pain, or torture. I'll take you in but you nore your family will remember the other. Of that i will make sure of." Drake says lifting Aster and slamming the spear point down onto his targets head.

Drake: No i didnt kill the guy. Aster can sever bonds and memories with her spear point. I simply took all threes memories of being together from the point of the killings. The wife thought he had left her and the child and thats the way it will stay while the shit rots his life away in prison now. And quick note from the mun that no more stories this week. He'll have more ready next week but this week he will be focusingnon his other project. If you want to Rp with us we can do that or answer questions. But no stories for the next six days.

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

chapter 11.5 -- okay, 12, it’s chapter 12, fine, fine. I should stop trying to predict how long my chapters will be. I’m always wrong. the Fae AU keeps escaping all my predictions. it’s fine. it’s cool. 

[Beginning] [Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

It is not, as Apollo expects, the worst road trip he has ever been a part of. Trucy likes to sing along to the radio – she has a surprisingly good voice – which stops Clay from starting up his usual road trip tradition of bellowing out “Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall” and seeing how much he can get through before someone slaps him. Trucy claimed shotgun, as “the woman with the magic map”, meaning Apollo is shunted to the back with Ema, who upends her bag on the floor to pull from it a jumbo-sized pack of Snackoos and offer a handful to him.

“None for us?” Clay asks, pouting in the rearview mirror.

“Backseat privileges,” Ema replies.

Trucy cranks the radio up as a familiar guitar riff begins.

If it’s extortion, it works; she and Clay have not finished the first verse, Trucy’s almost-operatic interpretation running up against Clay’s off-key warbling, before Ema is shoving the Snackoos up between their seats, offering a trade of chocolates for an end to the car-vibrating force of Guilty Love.

“Not a fan?” Clay asks.

Ema groans. So does Trucy. “Don’t get me started,” Ema says.

“Yeah, please don’t,” Trucy adds.

“He’s a pretentious fuckin’ diva who—”

Trucy begins yelling out the chorus to the song over the second verse emitting from the radio.

They are all still arguing – Ema berating Clay’s taste in music while Trucy moves into an attempt to sing My Boyfriend is the Prosecution’s Witness to the tune of Guilty Love and Apollo tries to turn the volatile atmosphere anywhere else – when the song ends. Trucy shushes everyone, violently, smacking Clay on the arm and then flailing back at Ema, and turns up the radio. A DJ is in the middle of saying something.

“—announced today on their social media. While fans are disappointed, no one can say that the break-up comes as a surprise, after the sentencing of guitarist Daryan Crescend for murder in July, and the three months of, ahem, radio silence that’s followed. And earlier this week, leader singer Klavier Gavin’s brother was indicted on a second count of murder – I can’t say I blame him for maybe wanting to duck out of the spotlight. Gavin’s brother was previously charged in April, for—”

Trucy changes the channel. A commercial for a local furniture outlet doesn’t help break the awkward spell fallen over them. “Yeah,” she says, after a full minute, during which time they discover their new channel is a country music channel. “No real surprise.”

“Brother and bandmate,” Clay says quietly. “Hell of a year.”

“Hell of a six months,” Apollo says. And he was there for all of it – he was there for more of it than Klavier ever was. Klavier wasn’t there in April, not when Kristoph fell, not when any of them could have had any idea what was ahead. How much magic would surround them.

“If my older sister had been convicted of murder, I was gonna crawl into the dirt and die,” Ema says, “so I’m with the fop on that one, actually.”

There is a worrying lack of hypotheticals in the second half of Ema’s scenario. No “would have”s. Like she was where Klavier is, but the trial had a different outcome, and the frozen expression on her face, her eyes gone blank, she looks like she has caught up with her own words. Said too much. Apollo doesn’t know much about her as a person, her life before failing the forensics exam, how it was that she knew Mr Wright, but he can sympathize with that fear of having given away too much, turned the conversation down a path that should stay blocked off.

“You have a sister?” Trucy asks, turning around in her seat. “You seemed kinda ‘only-child’ to me.’ “Yeah,” Ema says quietly. “Older sister. Her name’s Lana. We don’t… talk much.”

Apollo doesn’t know why the name feels like it strikes something in his brain, the way Ema’s did when she first introduced herself.

“Oh.” Trucy visibly wilts. “Sorry.”

Ema shrugs, slumping back against her seat, her arms folded. “It happens,” she says. Her eyes are glazed over, settled in Clay’s direction. Her mouth quirks in the beginnings of a smile. “She took me to the Space Museum once, not long after it first opened.” The wistful smile has grown a little larger. “Back when I didn’t know what kind of scientist I wanted to be, so I wanted to go everywhere, and she was like ‘Ema I’m not taking you to the fucking tar pits again, how about space?’, and—” She shakes her head. “Sorry. Your jacket got me thinking. Do you work there or something?”

And that is the question that Clay most likes to be asked, that or literally anything else ever about space, and that is the end of any of them getting a word in edgewise – but while Apollo’s heard it all before, Trucy has questions galore, and Ema sits forward, slowly losing the pretense of not being enraptured.

-

They have driven for over two hours by the time Trucy directs them to pull of the highway at an exit that tells them there is nothing for them that way but another 38 miles until Kurain Village. “Is that where the Fair Folk live?” Ema asks dryly, in her voice none of the nervousness that people tend to have. Apollo hasn’t spoken much with her about magic, doesn’t know what she thinks – but, well, she knows Phoenix. That’s clue enough that caution comes secondary.

“Not really,” Trucy says. “They just named it that. It’s part of our world. Sometimes some of the fae do show up and hang around, I think – Maya tried to convince Daddy to move out here, once, apparently, but he wouldn’t leave the office.”

“Who’s Maya?” Apollo asks. Sometimes he realizes how little he knows about Phoenix’s personal life, too.

“Daddy’s friend. She’s – wait, stop! Here! Turn down this road here!”

“This is not a road,” Clay says, hunching over the steering wheel. “This is some dirt, off the road, not even in the shape of a dirt road.”

The car groans as Clay turns it off of the asphalt into the dirt. Trucy pops open the door and stands, holding herself between the door and the car roof and turning her face to the sky and the no-longer-distant mountains looming above them. She says something, muffled, and points into the trees. “We’re close,” she says, ducking back inside the car. “Let’s park and go – we’re close.”

“Park right here?” Clay asks, raising a doubtful eyebrow.

“Barely anyone comes this way,” Trucy says. “Like, one bus, except I’m not even sure if this is on its route. It’s fine.”

“I’m more worried that this is some sort of sacred ground that we’re stomping on,” Clay says, but he turns the key and then smacks his head against the top of the wheel. “How much are we going to regret just walking out there?”

“Probably we won’t,” Trucy says. She flings the door open and jumps out, stretching her arms up into the air. “C’mon already!”

“So what are we doing now?” Ema asks, crumpling the Snackoos bag back into her bag and tumbling forth from the car like a liquid spilled. “Just walking into the woods until we find treasure or a bear?”

“We do have a map.” Trucy waves it at her. “But yes. That’s what we’re doing.” She lowers the page halfway to her side and then stops, tilting her head back. “I’ve been here before,” she says. “Grandpappy and I – sometime – sometime after my mom died.” She takes a few slow steps toward the treeline, her movements uneven, as in a daze. “It was just the two of us. And we came here, and we buried—” She spins around, eyes wide, looking at all and none of them. “We buried his grimoire.”

Without another word of warning, she dashes into the woods, sending them scrambling to catch up to her. It’s colder here than in the city, though Apollo didn’t think they went up too far in elevation. Leaves thickly coat the ground; do they hide rings of flowers beneath them or do those in their magic break through? They finally reach Trucy when she, focused on her map, walks straight into a tree and takes some time to properly reorient herself.

“Do you know why here, of all places?” Apollo asks. “Is it because of the mountains, and he was…?”

He stops. Does Trucy know what her grandfather was? Phoenix didn’t say. Of course he didn’t.

“He said this is where he landed,” Trucy replies, crunching a leaf beneath her foot. “He said he fell, and this is where he landed.”

“Was he—” Clay’s sense, that question that they all know they shouldn’t ask, that question that Apollo has asked again and again anyway, wars against curiosity, against more than wanting to know – needing to know, to understand what is Trucy’s family. “Was he, erm, one of – Them?”

He can’t even bring himself to offer up one of the epithets. This close to the mountains, Apollo isn’t sure that he could bring himself to speak of them plainly like he has learned to.

“Yeah,” Trucy says. “But I’m human. Don’t worry.” She flashes a grin, one of her usual grins, but it is tempered by the speed with which is vanishes from her face again, replaced by a frown of concentration. “I think we must be close, but not quite yet.”

“Hey, Trucy?” Ema asks. She pushes a branch out of the way and it snaps back to nearly strike Clay in the face. “Not to pry, but – if your grandfather was one of the Fair Folk, are you the changeling, or was it your mother?”

Trucy stops.

“Wait,” Ema says. “Not a changeling – that’s the fae child. The human kid, the one swapped out. Is there a word for that?”

“I don’t think so,” Trucy says. She hops over a log. “I don’t think there’s a name for people like that.”

She doesn’t answer the first question. Maybe she doesn’t know, either.

“When you say you buried it,” Apollo says, aware that there is nothing subtle about this lifeline he is throwing to pull her away from questions best left avoided (am I a child stolen away, raised by the fae? Did they take me from the life I should have had?), “have we come all this way to be foiled for want of a shovel?”

“Oh fuck,” Trucy says.

“Hey!” Ema barks, her sharp rebuke the manifestation of that urge Apollo feels to scold her for that. “Language, young missy!” She folds her arms across her chest, her glare a fond one. “Where did you learn that?”

“My daddy’s a card shark,” Trucy says, countering Ema with a smug grin of her own.

“I thought he was a piano player,” Clay says.

“Only because you’ve never heard him play,” Trucy replies. “Easy mistake to make.”

“Considering it was all magic that hid the map,” Ema says, with nary a pause to acclimate everyone to the idea of throwing the conversation back past that latest sharp turn, “wouldn’t it be magic to hide it again, logically speaking?”

“Where’s the logic here?” Clay asks. Ema snaps a twig off a bush and flicks it at him. “And I mean, if it’s just covered up with some illusion, couldn’t anyone stumble into it?”

“Maybe it takes the map, too,” Apollo says. “Or maybe only a Gramarye can unveil it.”

He steps up onto a tree stump, like the extra five inches can grant him some kind of special insight or a better view in the forest of brown. Then he is falling, the wood rot giving way beneath his foot, a sharp jolt running up his leg from the twist of his foot. “Shit!”

Trucy winces. “Ouch. Poor Polly. I—”

“Apollo,” Ema says, very seriously, but somewhat muffled by her hand over her mouth. “Move. Move right now.”

“What?” He sits up, dislodging his foot from the stump, and looks about himself. The forest floor of dead leaves has cleared, as though by a strong, concentrated wind, revealing browned dead grass encased by a perfect circle of blue flowers. “Oh. Oh shit.”

Without an ounce of grace, still on his hands and knees, he scrambles and rolls his way out of the faery ring. “So according to the map,” Trucy says, and above his head Apollo hears the flutter of the paper, “I think we found it.”

“Only a Gramarye, huh,” Clay says dryly.

“That was only supposition!”

“So who’s gonna stick their hand in a rotten tree stump?” Ema asks, producing a flashlight from her bag and shining the beam down into it. “I volunteer Trucy, because she’s wearing gloves, and is our Gramarye.”

Trucy kicks up the leaves on her approach, searching for hints of another ring around the stump, more than just Apollo’s that sits adjacent to it. “If I get bit by a squirrel and get rabies and die, it’s your fault,” she says, kneeling down next to the stump and brushing her hair back to peer down into it.

“Statistically, your chance of getting rabies from a squirrel is negligible,” Ema says. “That shouldn’t be your worry.”

“What should I worry about, then?” Trucy asks. “Can you bring the light a little closer?”

“Bats, racoons, foxes, feral cats and dogs, and right now, probably non-rabies Fair Folk curses, since we’re fucking around by a ring.”

“I’m still concerned about bears,” Clay says.

“I’m not,” Ema says. “I’ve already got my plan, which is to trip you into its path.”

“General ‘you’, or me, specifically?”

“You specifically. Nothing personal, though. I just know Trucy and Apollo better than you.”

“This is way heavier than I thought,” Trucy says, falling off-balance and dropping something dark and rectangular. “Oof! Okay. Okay. We got it!” She lifts it up onto her knees, a thick book with a black cover and a character emblazoned in flowing purple script on it. “I knew I remembered this.” Her voice is quieter as she opens the book and flips through the rough-edged pages. “Grandpappy’s grimoire.” She closes the cover again, reverently, and keeps it balanced on her legs as she turns back to the stump. “Light again, please. I thought I saw something else.” Trucy has her head nearly in the hole, which can’t help her with her light situation, and she sits back and plunges her hand in again. “Yep! This is a – a funny-looking magatama?”

She holds it up, the blue stone sparkling in the flashlight beam, but also seemingly with its own interior glow, and Apollo gasps.

Three sets of eyes turn to him.

“That’s a mitamah,” he says, and to his own ears he sounds like he’s choking, but he feels like he’s choking too, and maybe the others don’t notice but he doubts it. “That’s someone’s soul.”

Trucy drops it into the leaves.

“What?” Clay looks suspicious – Trucy looks horrified. “How do you know?”

(“There’s no reason to give away your soul,” Dhurke told them, sternly, the sternest he ever got. “Never.” And then they tried to argue, to come up with reasons, because of course they did, and he hugged them both close. “You’ll make great lawyers someday, always looking for reasons and other ways, but this one – promise me. Nahyuta. Apollo.” He prodded each of them in the chest. “Don’t let someone else get their hands on your soul.”)

“The tail of it is different.” Apollo picks it up, brushing off the dirt and leaf particles that cling to it, and points to the longer, squiggling protrusion that extends from the loop. It doesn’t fully connect like a magatama, either, more like a hook than a circle.

It feels warm in his hand, humming through his fingers and up into his ears. It reminds him of the office – familiar, but disturbing, because there is no reason that it should feel so familiar and comforting.

“Could it be your grandfather’s?” Ema asks.

“Wouldn’t that mean he’s still alive?” Clay asks. “Is that possible?”

“It couldn’t be,” Apollo says. If he stares at the mitamah he thinks he can see flecks of gold within the blue, like stars on a constellation chart. “The Fair Folk don’t have souls like we do. They can’t sell them or manifest them like this.”

“Is that why they want human souls?” Ema asks.

“How do you know?” Clay repeats.

Apollo’s heart has stoppered up his throat.

“It makes them stronger,” Trucy says softly. “When they buy names, or souls, it makes their magic stronger. But this – this can’t be that.” She hugs the grimoire up to her chest. “It can’t just be that.”

“Should we just… put it back?” Ema asks. “Someone’s probably looking for it, right?”

“It’s been seven years and no one has come before us,” Apollo says. The humming isn’t as steady now, seems more like a song, and familiar, damned familiar. “No, we can’t just leave her here.”

In the silence, even the song seems to stop. “What?” Apollo asks. Their three sets of eyes are on him again, even more piercing, Trucy’s wide and Clay’s narrowed and Ema’s narrowing too.

“‘Her’?” Ema repeats. “Why ‘her’?”

“I…” Apollo swallows his heart. “I don’t know, but I… I know?”

“I don’t think you should be holding that in your bare hands,” Clay says.

But the alternative seems to be dropping her in the dirt again, and Apollo’s fingers curl tighter around the stone. He can’t do that, either. Trucy unties her scarf from around her neck and silently passes it to him, letting him wrap the stone up in the red fabric and then cradle it close again. The song thrumming in his ears ceases. “I guess we should take it to Mr Wright and ask him if he knows what to do,” Ema says. “He’ll know what to do with it. Her?”

Trucy’s gaze is unfocused, her head slowly drifting away from the horizon back toward the stump. “Trucy?” Apollo asks. “Are you okay?”

“He wouldn’t do that,” she says. “Just buy up someone’s soul all for himself. He wouldn’t. There had to be some other reason. It wasn’t just power, there had to be a good reason.”

(“There’s no reason,” Dhurke said. “Never.”)

“He gave me magic, as a gift,” Trucy says. “He was a good man.” She looks up at Apollo, blinking her blue eyes furiously. “Wasn’t he?”

-

It takes them another forty-five minutes to stumble out of the woods and find Clay’s car again. Ema makes everyone nervous talking about the odds of them stumbling across a body decomposing in the undergrowth – “I have zero desire to ever get caught up in one of your murder investigations,” Clay says, picking up a branch from the bushes and brandishing it like a baseball bat – and bears. The two of them are at least doing a good job of filling the silence left by Trucy, uncomfortably quiet, walking in a trace. Apollo tugs her by the arm out of the way of trees. He could put the mitamah in his pocket but hasn’t, has kept it held close to his chest.

The story that Phoenix spun of the Gramaryes is gnawing at him. A woman, on the bad end of a deal with Magnifi – Apollo doesn’t want to think about the possibility.

(Trucy must be thinking about the possibility, mustn’t she?)

She crawls into the back seat of the car, depositing the grimoire in the middle, and Ema makes a mad dash for the front seat, leaving Apollo to sit on the other side of the grimoire, separated by it from Trucy. The only time she speaks is to call Phoenix and ask him if he is at the office – he is, because she directs Clay to go back to the office.

It is a long, quiet ride home, some subdued conversation between Ema and Clay about their fields of science rising over the country music still on the radio. Trucy taps Apollo’s hand and beckons him to hand her the mitamah. She takes off one of her gloves and weighs it in her hand with an ever-deepening frown until she wraps it back up and passes it back to Apollo.

Ema shouts “Yellow car!” and hits Clay on the shoulder. He hits her back and tells her that she needs to specify no punch-backs next time.

-

Phoenix is sitting on the floor leaning against the couch with two notebooks and a stack of papers spread out in front of him, the coffee table shoved to the side, a pencil in his mouth and another tucked behind his ear, when they stagger into the office. Apollo is mediating an argument about the merits of Eldoon’s for a late lunch – Ema does not want to brave it, while Clay wants nothing more than to do so. Phoenix does not look up.

“Hey, Daddy,” Trucy says wearily.

His head snaps up, dislodging the pencil behind his ear. “What’s wrong?”

“You always complain about your back hurting, and now look what you’re doing.” Trucy’s words sound forced through a smile. Phoenix’s frown deepens. He watches Trucy walk past him to deposit the grimoire on his desk.

“We went looking into the envelope you gave her the other day,” Apollo says. “The real last page.”

Phoenix doesn’t look back from Trucy right away. “A full expedition team, huh?” he asks, raising one eyebrow as he looks over Ema and Clay. “Who’s this?”

“Er, oh, yeah. I’m Clay Terran. Apollo’s roommate.” Clay points with his thumb at Apollo, even though they all know there is only one Apollo that they know. “You’re Mr Wright, yeah?” He doesn’t do a good job of feigning enthusiasm.

“I know that look,” Phoenix says, standing with a wince and an audible crack of some of his joints. “That’s the ‘I’ve heard about you and it’s nothing good’ look.” He lets Clay splutter for a full two seconds before he grins crookedly and adds, “That’s fair.” Almost immediately, his expression flattens out to something stern and almost entirely foreign. “Trucy,” he calls. “What’s wrong?”

“We found my grandfather’s grimoire,” she says, sitting on the desk and holding it up, only for it to slip from her hands and crash to the floor. “And Polly has the other thing that was with it.”

Apollo unwraps the mitamah.

Has he ever seen Phoenix surprised? The man spent seven years an unbeaten poker player, and this past half-year absolutely inscrutable to Apollo’s eyes. There is nothing controlled in his reaction; his mouth falls open and his eyes go wide, turning blue immediately and staying blue, horror apparent in how they linger on the mitamah. “Oh,” he breathes. “That is – yeah.”

He reaches forward with trembling hands and scoops up the scarf spread across Apollo’s hands. He holds it cradled close, too, his free hand cupped beneath the one holding it, prepared to catch the stone should it slip, but still not having touched it with bare skin. “So,” he says. “The ‘source’ of Magnifi’s magic – that grimoire, and this soul.”

“But,” Trucy says, “that…” She stops. She chews on the inside of her cheek. Mr Hat, the wisp, is visible, bobbing frenetically around her shoulders. “It’s…” Her shoulders slump. “Do you know what to do with that, Daddy? Is there a way to know what person a soul belongs to?”

“Not from looking only at the mitamah,” Phoenix answers. His eyes still hollow blue when he turns them back to Trucy. “I am not particularly familiar with mitamahs, honestly, but I’ll look into it and see what I can do to get it back to her.” He takes the stone in one hand and offers Trucy her scarf back. “If the fae who has possession of a soul is still alive, they can just give it back – not that many are willing to, mind – but since he’s dead – well.” He shakes his head. “Thank you, though. For helping Trucy, and bringing this back.”

It’s a firm end to the conversation, not that Apollo knows what more to ask about a soul. Ema, though, is frowning, her arms crossed, her mouth twisting like she is puzzling out something. “We were gonna go get noodles at Eldoon’s,” Apollo says. “If – if you wanted to come, Trucy.”

“Oh!” She looks surprised, like she hadn’t expected to be addressed. “Um.” Her heels bounce against the desk. “Thanks, but I’m okay.”

Her hands, curled around the edge of the desk, shine red. Apollo doesn’t even need that to know she’s lying.

-

“We all agree she’s not okay, right?” Clay asks.

They were silent for a block down from the office, Ema not even complaining about losing the Eldoon’s battle. (Apollo was prepared to tell her that she didn’t have to come, but she had attached herself to them without a cursory protest.)

“Definitely not,” Ema says. “I guess she doesn’t want to believe that her grandfather was the double-dealing type of Folk – which, I’ve read the case file on his death, I’d believe that about him in a hot second. There’s nothing worse than a blackmailer like that. Also.” She plants herself firmly in the sidewalk. Apollo and Clay both bump into her. “None of us referred to the mitamah as ‘she’ or ‘her’, right? Like you were, Apollo.”

“None of us but Trucy even talked about it,” Apollo says. Clay nods. “Why?”

“Because Mr Wright did.” Ema’s forehead creases. “He said he would ‘get it back to her’. He wasn’t even touching it, was he?” Apollo shrugs. Ema shrugs too. “He knows something. More than he said.”

“He always does,” Apollo says.

They reach Eldoon’s, and Ema says that it’s weird to see the stand without a corpse attached. The look that Clay gives her makes her and Apollo both laugh. Once they have their noodles, they walk another few blocks to People Park and find a bench not far from where the noodle-stand crime scene once stood. Apollo has learned to be grateful for the mouthfuls of broth that taste of so much salt to sting. It feels a little more like safety, like salt across a doorway.

He starts to say what he’s thinking, that Trucy might be worried that the mitamah is her mother’s, or at least he is, but the words die on his tongue, shriveled by the salt. He doesn’t feel right to tell Clay and Ema about Trucy’s mother’s death, when he has no idea if Trucy knows or not. Phoenix has made him the guardian of family secrets that aren’t his and something about that feels wrong. Maybe necessary in some way, to understand the case, to understand what happened with Kristoph, but still wrong.

Instead, he helps Ema explain to Clay her earlier comments about Magnifi and blackmail. You can’t refuse, and we both know the reason why – Trucy can’t know he did that. She seemed to idolize him. What a hard way to fall.

He’ll text her tomorrow, Apollo decides. Check in, see how she’s doing.

(There’s probably someone else he should check in with, too, the events of this week all considered.)

[sweet-cool-twins]

KyouTen Fanfic: Raimon Jr High

Summary: Matsukaze Tenma enrols into Raimon Jr High! Join her on her adventures while she tackles club activities, meet new friends, and fall in love? Plus, the bully, Tsurugi Kyousuke, from her elementary school enrols into Raimon with her! Wait. He's nice now! IEGO Rewritten as a Shoujo High School Romance series. Fem!Tenma, KyouTen and other pairings.

FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13237659/1/Raimon-Jr-High

So like I went to watch Inazuma Eleven go galaxy just to catch Kusaka x Morimura moments (they are the cutest canon couple, fight me), and I just checked the last episode. Ten Made Todoke (GO OP1) played at the end, which like had me full on nostalgia and they even included episodes from GO and Chrono Stone and brought back Tenma's dribbles (which he is great at, practiced a lot back in the 1st episode I remember) and like OF COURSE I'LL GET FULL ON NOSTALGIA, U CANT DO THIS TO ME. Hence, I started to rewatch GO to relief this feeling, which made me really missed my childhood (more like teenage-hood whatever you call it) and how much my life has changed compared to like 8 years ago (gosh it's been so long). So I kinda want to relief this story-writing part back in my life. Without further ado, click on read more to start reading! :)

Disclaimer: I seriously, 100%, totally don't even own the charas, their backgrounds, their clothes, their whatever. My name is not Hino and I'm not even Japanese. There's a Shugo Chara part which I had taken for this story (if anyone does recognize it -cries-). Lots of genderbend characters. You've been warned.

Matsukaze Tenma, a girl with brown wavy hair styled in swirls like the wind, length that reaches down to her back, tan skin and sky blue eyes. Today was the first day in her new school as a first year. Wearing her uniform for the appropriate year, she left her house owned by her relative, Aki, and dashed down towards the gate of the school. She stood there eyeing the lightning sign at the top of the school building and smiled to herself with much determination.

Finally, her hard work paid off. She was able to get into the school of her choice, Raimon Junior High. She could not help but smiled wider. It was just then when she heard someone calling her.

"Tenma!" She turned her head to her side and saw her childhood best friend sprinting towards her, her left arm high in the air waving at her.

"Aoi!" Aoi, a short blue haired girl wearing the exact same uniform as Tenma. The bluenette stopped in front of her friend and gave a light pat on her shoulder,

"You made it to this school too, ne?" It was both their aim to study in Raimon.

"Nhn!" The brown haired girl nodded. The two girls walked into the school, heading to the signboard where they will know which class they would be in, before making their way to the hall where all students will be briefed about the start of their year in Raimon.

Tenma took a sit on her chair in the hall. She sighed, Aoi was not only not in the same class as her, the class bully back in her elementary school, Tsurugi Kyousuke, was in the same class as her! He was known for bullying students in the same class as him. Back in her elementary school, she was not in the same class that was why she was not targeted, but he still shook fear in the hearts of every student in the school. How did he get into Raimon, Tenma didn't know, but now that he was enrolled here and allocated to her class, Tenma could only fear of what was to come. Tenma shook her head. It'll work out somehow! Dont think about him anymore. Hm!

"Ah...! Tenma-san! I can't believe you are here!" An extremely short girl that could pass for a Pikachu, jumped on to a chair beside Tenma. She had bronze coloured hair with a blue headband to pull her short pig tails upwards, and leaving bangs on her forehead.

"Ano...do I know you?" Tenma asked curiously.

"I'm from the same class as you back in elementary school! Nishizono Shinsuke! I look up to you so much, Tenma-san!" Shinsuke said with a high pitch voice from how happy she was in meeting Tenma.

"Hehe...Nice to meet you, Shinsuke. You may drop the -san actually. I'm not used to people calling me with -san." Tenma whispered to keep the conversation to just the both of them. Her cheeks blushing from both the praise and the people looking at them after the sudden shouts from Shinsuke.

"Waaa...I get to call Tenma-san without a -san! I'm so lucky!" She dazed off to dreamland which Tenma giggled at the girl's cuteness. She was really looking forward to classes with her. Especially since her allocated seat was beside Tenma, and students in the same class sit in the same row.

"Students, listen up." A voice sounded from the speakers, drawing everyone's attention. An adult stood on the stage with a podium in front of him, he spoke through the microphone. "I'm your principal, Hirai. Thank you all for coming. Today's your first day of the year, I know all will be nervous, don't worry. The teachers and student councilors will help you if needed. I wish you all the best. I'll now let our student council president address you." Squeals were heard at the front of the hall. A boy, with a dark brown wavy hair reaching to his shoulders walked up on stage where Principal Hirai was. The squeals became louder and names could now be heard in between,

"Shindou-san~!" "Takuto-sama~!" "Shin-sama~!"

Weird names for a student council president, he seems to be ignoring those squeals. Tenma thought silently.

"Wa...! H-he's so handsome...!" Tenma could hear Shinsuke mumbling to herself. Well, Tenma had to say, he was attractive, and a student council president to boot. Almost like a representation of an Anime prince. Tenma could not help but be mesmerized by him too.

"I'm Shindou Takuto. Your student council president-"

"I-I'm Nishizono Shinsuke! You're very handsome, Shindou-senpai! Please let me be your girlfriend!" The shorty jumped up from her chair and stood tip-toeing on it to stand out from the crowd and to get Shindou's attention. Everyone in the audience stared at Shinsuke, wide eyed by her sudden exclamation. Even Tenma was speechless. Shindou, however, closed his eyes and said firmly,

"Sorry, but I'm not interested in dating right now."

"Oh...it's ok! Maybe next time!" Shinsuke answered back with a cheerful voice, as if the embarrassing situation didn't happened at all. She jumped back to a sitting position and sat there quietly, listening to Shindou continue.

"Shinsuke, why did you do that? You embarrassed yourself!" Tenma whispered to Shinsuke, drowning out Shindou's speech and focusing on her new friend.

"I learned it from you, Tenma! We should be straight forward with our feelings! You said that to a girl from your class who was having love troubles!"

"Shinsuke..." Tenma wondered if Shinsuke actually got the meaning of her words. She giggled, her new found friend was cute and funny.

"Students, look for your names and sit at your assigned seats." Their homeroom teacher, Otonashi Haruna, pointed at the screen where it showed the students sitting arrangement. Tenma, Shinsuke, and their classmates, entered the classroom in an orderly manner, took a glance at the screen and headed to their respective seats. Tenma looked for her name, she was assigned to the fourth table from the first row near the window which has a view of the soccer field outside. She was walking down the first row from the front of the classroom when she noticed a familiar navy blue hair, tied in a weird looking high pony tail, boy sitting in the seat beside her assigned seat. Tenma turned to double check the screen and saw 'Tsurugi Kyousuke' written in a box beside her name.

No, no...Anything but that! It was already a bad thing when Shinsuke's seat was at the front of the room, in the middle at that! She was too far! She turned her head back, seeing Tsurugi staring outside the window. Unlike the normal Raimon male uniform, he was wearing purple coloured pants and cape. A red shirt with slevees rolled up to his elbow and wristbands of the colour, red and white respectively. He gave off an intimidating aura like a gangster. Tenma gulped. It'll work out somehow! Tenma said to herself before walking forward and sat on her seat. She felt Tsurugi's eyes on her for a long time before the boy finally spoke,

"You're Matsukaze aren't you?" Tenma felt her heart thumping in nervousness as she turned her head and answered,

"Yes." Her voice seemed to sound alright. Tsurugi leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms, his eyes looked to the front of the class,

"Tsurugi Kyousuke." He introduced himself, even though Tenma already knew his name, "You're my partner for the rest of the year. Let's work hard together."

"R-right..." Tenma was stunned, where did his bullying personality go? He should have whispered into her ear to meet him after school to bash her up or steal her money, but none of that happened. He just introduced himself that was all. Was this a trick to get Tenma to let her guard down? That's not right. Tsurugi is usually straight forward in his bullying. What happened to him? She turned back to the board, drowning out Haruna's explanations about their exams. Somehow, Tenma was not afraid of Tsurugi.

"Shinsuke, I want you to meet my other friend, Aoi." Tenma said to Shinsuke as they walked down the hallway to another classroom which was Aoi's classroom. It was their break time and Tenma wanted her new found friend to meet her childhood friend.

"Wa...! I get to meet Tenma's friend! Is she the blue haired girl?" Tenma nodded, since Shinsuke already knows about Aoi, there was no need for much introductions.

"Are you Nishizono Shinsuke?" Someone else spoke. The two looked to their front to find the student council president, Shindou standing in front of them. The two widened their eyes in shock. The student council president, the handsome and popular student council president was standing in front them!

"S-Shindou-senpai!" They both exclaimed. Wow he's so prince like in person! Tenma and Shinsuke mentally commented in unison. Shindou gave a warm smile which increased his princely handsomeness. Tenma and Shinsuke could not help but blush.

"I'm here about back there in the hall." Tenma and Shinsuke snapped out of the trance Shindou unknowingly put them in.

"Oh it's ok, Shindou-senpai! I'm sorry for my sudden outburst because of how handsome you look!" Shinsuke replied by trying to reassure to Shindou, even though her weird reasoning, that he need not be guilty for the rejection. Shindou chuckled which made both the girls to blush even redder.

"No, It's really my fault. I don't want other girls to try and win my heart so I had to say that. Sorry if I was too offensive."

"Ah! I-it's ok! T-totally fine with it! Heh heh..." Shinsuke scratched the back of her head. It really was a pleasure to have the student council president apologize to her.

"I'm glad. Though I still feel guilty for my actions, you may call me whenever you want if you need help. Here's my number." The brown haired boy held out two slips of papers to the two girls who took them with sparkles in their eyes.

"Ne, Shindou-senpai. You must be very popular based on the squeals this morning." Tenma asked. Shindou looked bashful as he replied,

"I'm not trying to be boastful but yes, I was voted the most popular recently. Although I don't like having that title. My best friend is more like you two actually, a normal student. I feel bad that she has to go through all this popularity with me. She says she's never bothered by it."

"I see...I thought you would have a friend who is equally in popularity as you." Shindou shook his head,

"Nope." Shindou checked his watch, "Sorry, I have a meeting with the other councillors."

"Nhn! Thanks for the number! Bye Shindou-senpai!" The two first years waved at Shindou's retreating figure who also waved back.

"Bye." He turned around and walked off, leaving Tenma and Shinsuke to watch him leave with a dazed off look on their eyes. He even looked beautiful from behind...This story has been sitting in my drafts since 2013. Cuz it's a chapter fic plus my high school entrance exams, I could not put in too much effort into it. Majority of the fic was in drafts but the idea and uncompleted plans were roughly there. It really was the most planned fic I had and I was very proud it. The first few (including this) were already written. Just never evaluated. And how grateful I am for not uploading that time. My writings were so cringey. So now this fic finally got to see the light of day with hopefully less cringey sentences. Hopefully everyone (new or old IE fans) will love it.

A little note written by my past self. :P I know I could at least complete my other chapter stories, but I really like the idea of this and decided to type it out! It came in a dream. It's instead of their life involving around soccer, I'm writing about their lives in school. Everyone are in different clubs. It's sort of yaoi, the ukes are genderbend. Don't ask why they are girls. The dream made them girls so I followed my dream. If not, I'm going to get very messed up with the story. The girls look like the picture in zerochan which showed all the guys genderbend. The ukes look like that, well some of them look like the picture. Depends. (What was I even writing about -_-'')

Thanks everyone for reading this! I hope you all like it. Sorry if it's a little bit weird, please bear with me for this. I'm not used to writing school life stories. Please review~! (Again I have no shame -_-"")