#idk i just havent been in the mood to write fluff recently
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jasminelee324 · 7 months ago
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GEGE WHEN I CATCH YOU!!!!!!
jjk rant
biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-
ALERT POSSSIBLE JJK SPOILERS/SPECULATIONS AHEAD!!!!!!!!!
i am nooooot okay. Gege is an actual villain. I have been listening to nothing but deathbed by powfu, some song by Laufey with froyo edits on tiktok (song is Promise, aka "it hurts to be something, it's worse to be nothing with youuuuu), and Mr. Loverman ON REPEAT for THE WHOLLLLLLLLLE MORNING. i HAVENT EVEN HAD MY HEARTBROKEN (recently). FELL ASLEEP AT LIKe 4 am to fluff after the chp spoilers found on tumblr and even awoke to try to write some comforting fluff myself. like fr I don't even fw Gojo that heavy -nananim stans- but this stuff that mangakas are pulling is getting out of freaking hand. the day Yuuji dies I don't want anyone to talk to me bc if I'm not okay right now I have no idea what state I will be in. i have literally been snuggling with my teddies for 1/2 the morning trying not to cry. like seriously eyes were almost getting blurry as I type this and Loverman plays in the background. this is NOT okay. they are fictitious characters so why the actual fudge am I so sad.
and to make matters worse I saw a glimpse of a rumor on tumblr that satorou is dead but there going to put yuuta, who is also apparently dead, in his body to use him as a weapon to fight sukuna who has POSSESSED MEGUMI!!!!!!! And then someone had THE SHEER AUDACITY to create a post with Gojo, Yuuji, and Yuuta smiling on top, and Poor little Megumi curled up in a ball in some domain all by himself. And it read top: "and tell your 'babies' bottom: that I'm your 'baby' too" and after that I had to go to bed bc this is not alright. idk what type of pain Gege is getting off to but this has got to be sick twisted and ILLLEEEEEEEEEGAL. AND MIND YOU I'M NOT EVEN WATCHING THE ANIMEEEEEEEEEEE! Virtually everything Ik ik ik against my will thx to edits and genreal content floating around online and yes ik "the algorithm yada yada" but RIGHT NOW I DO NOT CARE bc this level of international cruelty should not exist. yes ik there are really issues going on and I cry myself to sleep about those other days of the week but rn the wave of grief I'm feeling over all of this screams to be attended to.
literally got a call today and will have to call them back bc if I picked up the phone my voice was gonna sound sore as if I were crying and how THE HEY HEY HEY am I supposed to explain to him that I've been in bed rotting for hours and watching edits of heartbroken lovers that met tragic ends, on the brink of bawling my eyes out over people THAT AREN'T REALLLLL!!! Yeah, I'm in no mood for a psychiatric visit, so yeah no<3
Gege when I Catch you. No bc AOT was one thing. That beach was sad af. but this is a whole other story. in the aot verse there were so. many. characters. There were nations at war, factions, squadrons. they were AT WAR. there were hundreds, thousands, millions, but this is just sick and twisted bc I feel like the jjk storyline is slightly less character dense and so you truly have an opportunity to find a sense of intimacy in the relationships that you have the opportunity of viewing and getting to know and EVERY TIME GEGE BEARS THE DEPTHS OF A CHARACTER'S HEART, WILL, AND SOUL TO THE AUDIENDICE THEY WIND UP DEAD !!!!!! this is no longer ok. call help. SOMEBODY PLS GET HELP. Gege has to be held accountable bc this is getting out of handddddd😭😭😭😭(yes I am aware that I am griping and moaning and that realistically speaking artist reserve every single right to do whatever the heck they want with their art and don't owe anyone ship. A girl is simply in her feelings and will continue to do so until further notice.)
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bisexualriza · 6 months ago
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Tag game for fanfiction authors!
woag 2 tags in 1 day.....ty @quiet-nocturne <3
Tell us:
The story you're proudest of: this changes often depending on my mood but currently im pretty fond of this royai wip titled "hide her". its a pretty wild fic; Riza, no longer enlisted, gets into some pretty serious trouble and Roy, promoted to General, has to help conceal her crimes and try to get her back on her feet. i've been working on it frequently and i hope to someday post it ^^
Your story that's gotten the most love online: i havent actually posted any stories online in recent years, but if i remember correctly, when i was about 15 i posted a short royai series onto wattpad. i dont remember the plot or even the account name i had, but i know it had like 2k votes lol. ill try to find it but im pretty sure the account is lost now due to wattpad's purging of mature works or wtv.
Tease a current WIP or idea you're working on: since i posted about royai kid today here's a lil sumn sumn ^_^
He turned back to the child in his arms to do the same, gently brushing a finger against the baby's cheek; cold, but soft, tender. So incredibly fragile. Those soft brown eyes gazed up at him in disorientation, and then the baby's face puckered up. At the first cry, he'd have thought something electrocuted her, the way his wife jolted up in her bed. Looking at her gave way to a startling feeling; Riza's entire face was alarmed as she grabbed tightly onto his sleeve, and her eyes frantically examined the baby in his arms. Defensive, alert. Scared. She had never looked at him like that before. It was just for a moment, but that reaction still shook him to his core. Her face softened when she realized there was no danger, but that hard, guarded emotion remained in her eyes. "H…he's probably just hungry," she said in an even tone. "Here, I'll take him." Roy was too stunned to do anything else but obediently pass the baby over to her. Riza relaxed almost immediately when the baby was back in her arms, and she raised her shirt to begin breastfeeding. Why did you look at me like that? The question didn't form at his mouth, but it haunted him.
Your top 3 fandoms: FMA, ofc, which is the only series i create stuff for now LOL but i remember i used to write a little for Inuyasha and Black Butler too.
Your top 3 ships: Royai my beloved, InuKag, aaand.....damn idk i dont think about anything else other than royai. i guess any and all Riza ships for #3 ^^
Rec someone else's fic: go read all the hope that i lost, you have found if u havent already. if u have, go read it again. absolute banger.
Pick one!
Fluff or Angst: angst. they must suffer.
Oneshots or longfics: long fics!! oneshots can be cool and great, but i like a long compelling story!!
Canon compliance or canon divergence: canon divergence, i loveee making stuff up and seeing what other people make up for a series.
AO3 or FF.net: FF.net raised me.....but AO3 is simply superior sawryyy
all my author moots have been tagged already so if YOU 🫵 write fanfiction, then YOU 🫵 participate too!! <3
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angry-geese · 3 years ago
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Blood Ties - Chapter Thirty Four: Let Fate Toy With You
Soulmate au Choso x Reader
Warnings: canon typical violence. injury mention. overall sfw
Synopsis: a pretty plot heavy chapter. james and mal continue their plot to take over territory in their barrier, when they run into more players
Word count: 3.6k
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Masterlist
When James finally comes to, the room is spinning, and his throat is dry. He freezes. This is not the room he last remembers being in.
"You're awake. Good. Almost thought she killed you." Mal says. Her voice comes from somewhere to the left. 
James props himself up on his elbows. The action of doing such sends a wave of fatigue rolling over him. His arms wrap around his chest, and he expects the pain of a broken bone, but finds nothing. He lifts his shirt just enough to glance at his chest, and he’s met with the sight of clean skin. Not a single bruise to be seen.
Mallory casts a glare at him. “Could you put your shirt back on please?”
So she can use a reversed cursed technique. And on other people.
“I healed what I could,” she says, between sips of her drink, “but there's only so much I can do. Chances are you're going to feel terrible.”
Well he's alive. That’s about the best he can ask for.
“I've never seen a weapon like that before.” James says.
“It's called a meteor hammer.” Mallory says. “Those things are hospital bills waiting to happen—I only recognized it from a DND campaign I played through. We had one of those in-game. A weapon like that takes too long to master, so generally they weren't mass produced for use by soldiers. Still, certain monks would train with them, as they had the time to dedicate to the craft.” 
“So she was a reincarnated sorcerer?”
Mal seems to think for a moment, before shrugging, and saying “Probably. I haven't really thought about that. I've been trying to plan our route.”
She's drawn a crude map on the back of a menu. It outlines the nearby streets, along with a few of the buildings—shops and whatnot. Certain areas are marked with large X’s. Others are blocked off with what James can only assume means danger.
James sits up, hunching over the map. "I assume you want to avoid the main streets?"
"Yeah." She says with a nod. "Aside from it being more open, another sorcerer has taken over that territory. I don't know her name, but I know she can weaponize her own blood." Mallory pulls down her shirt collar, revealing a long pale scar across her shoulder. “She got me pretty bad a while back.”
A Kamo maybe? A reincarnated one?
"What if we take this alley?" He asks, jabbing his finger into the map.
"That's run by a sorcerer called Talen," she says. "I've only ever interacted with him once. Weird guy. Kind of squirrely. Can't really call him harmless, but I don't think that he'll go after both of us."
James leans back in his seat, arms crossed in front of his chest. "So if you already know all this, then why bother taking over that apartment complex?" He asks.
"Because it's king of the hill, Jimmy." She says. "If we have that building secured, we have an easily defendable high point. We'll be able to see the landscape of this entire barrier. It’d give us a major leg up in this game. Putting it plainly: we aren't the only players trying to secure territory."
He points to the street adjacent to the one he entered on. “Is there a player with territory here?” 
Mal nods. “Name’s Aikawa, I think,” she says. “Last I heard of him, he was hiding out near one of the entry points—there's about nine of those scattered around this place. Some sorcerers will hang around these points, hoping to catch new players while they’re still disoriented.”
Point farming? Smart. “Do you know anything else about him?” Asks James.
“No. Just that he has about eighty points.” She says. “So he must be tough. And I’m not exactly eager to pick a fight with him.”
So a total of three sorcerers to take out. Fifteen points altogether. On his own, it’ll be no easy feat. But with Mal’s help, he may stand a chance. This Talen guy may be the easiest to take out. In order to do such, they need to corner him. Or catch him off guard. The next easiest would be Aikawa. He's definitely not expecting someone to fight back. That woman may prove to be a problem though…
“That leaves these two streets empty,” he says, pointing to a side street. Part residential, part commercial from the looks of it. “It's a longer way around, but there's plenty of cover. Nothing’s too open.”
"I hadn't even thought of that." She says. She leans back in her chair, sighing. Her brows knit in apparent thought. Mal sets her cup down with a soft thud. “If we’re going to be working together, I think it's best we understand each other’s strengths, and weaknesses.” She continues. “So tell me, what does your cursed technique do?” 
Though her question is innocent enough, it leaves James with a bad taste in his mouth. He has the feeling he should choose his next words rather carefully.
“By using a bit of a person’s blood, I can join two people with the string of fate.” James answers. “Some call it Matchmaker, but I don't have a name for it, so that's what I go with.”
Disappointment makes itself known in the crease between her eyebrows. “Really?” She says. “That's lame.”
He whips his head around to glare at her. “What's yours then?”
She stands, pushing her chair back in. Her neatly manicured nails drum against the table. "Do you think you can walk? Or should we rest a bit more before making the trip?” Her gaze turns to the window, and her expression falls. “We’ve got company.”
“How many?” James asks.
“I only see one.”
He lifts his head enough to peek out the window. One person, standing in the middle of the street. A woman. She’s not particularly strong looking, or physically imposing, but the cursed energy he senses from her is immense. This sorcerer has no weapons as far as James can tell. The string of fate loops itself around her ring finger, before disappearing. And if James had to guess, he’d say this woman is a reincarnated sorcerer.
From his belt, James seizes his revolver, cocking it. There's a soft click as the hammer locks in place, and a new round is readied. Mallory grabs him by the shirt collar, yanking him back down.
“What the hell are you doing?!” She hisses. “The noise from that is going to alert half of the people in this barrier! Do you want to bring everyone down on our asses?!”
The bitter taste of cursed energy fills his mouth. It's neither his, nor Mal’s. James senses another, weaker soul.
It stands on four legs like a dog, but it's body is far too big to be any animal he's ever seen. The three heads it has all resemble a different breed of dog: boxer, rottweiler, and german shepherd. Instead of fur, it has wrinkly, leathery skin. It resembles tanned leather far more than it does actual flesh.
A shikigami.
If that thing stands up on two legs I'm going to shit myself, he thinks. Luckily, it doesn't appear to be bipedal.
The hound stops, sniffing at the air, before one of its heads—the German shepherd—whips in James' direction. A cold shudder runs up his spine. Those are the eyes of a human. 
Then it howls. It's a horrible noise; beginning as a dog’s howl, but slowly turning into a more human scream. A metallic taste fills his mouth. It feels as if someone has stuffed his ears with cotton.
“What is that thing?” Mal asks, voice barely a whisper. With the way his ears are ringing, she could be yelling for all he knows.
“A shikigami.” He says. “It's like a cursed spirit, but it's being controlled by a sorcerer.”
“Looks like it's just the two of them.” She says. “Should we run? Or do you want to fight her?”
They need the points. If he's to put that rule into place, he needs all the points he can get. 
“We fight.” He says. “Going in guns blazing when we have no idea what she can do is a death wish, but I doubt there's any sneaking up on her. So… you distract her, I’ll take on her shikigami, then we’ll deal the killing blow when she’s weakened.”
“That sounds like a terrible idea.”
“You have a better plan?”
“Yes,” she says. “Running.” 
James’ brows knit in frustration. “I want those points. Now are you going to help me or not?”
“Fine.” She says. Her head whips towards the left. “I have an idea.” Mal makes a break for the stairwell. A moment later, a crash is heard from the floor above.
She's distracted. Likely deciding whether or not it's worth it to investigate that noise. Cursed energy pours down his arms, into his weapon. Rend isn't particularly complicated: it's the reinforcement of one’s limbs with cursed energy—any sorcerer worth his salt can do that. His finger tightens around the trigger.
He sticks his pointer and middle finger in his mouth, and whistles. In unison, the shikigami’s three heads all turn to look at him.
James reinforces his limbs with cursed energy too late. Sharp teeth make quick work of his flesh, sinking right into it. It takes everything within him not to scream then and there. Its hide is far too tough for any knife to pierce. From his belt, he pulls his knife, driving it into the eye of the shikigami. It sinks down into a hilt with a squelch. The resulting pulse of cursed energy is enough to stun the creature, but not to kill it.
She must recall her shikigami before he can destroy it, because the next thing he knows, he's on his hands and knees. His movements feel much like a scene in a badly shot horror movie; shaky camera and all. One scene he’s standing. Then a cut. Then he’s running. Then another cut. It's all blurry. There’s not much he recognizes, until he’s collapsing in the alley between two buildings.
James can only make out two words: “domain expansion,”
The following blast of cursed energy feels akin to being hit in the chest with a nuke. Like his cells are being torn apart one by one, and pieced back together wrong. James is blown backwards into a wall, the force of which is so strong he cracks the wood panels.
This room is big enough to be a gymnasium. Though it's too dark to make out much else. The sickly sweet smell of decay hangs in the air. It's as if there's a weight on his chest with how difficult he finds it to breathe. James pulls his shirt collar up over his nose, relieved to find it covered in a thin layer of sweat, making the smell slightly more bearable.
A low noise fills the room. Humming. Beating like a heart. He feels it low in his chest. It comes from the black ceiling. What's with the background music? 
It takes James a solid minute to regain his bearings. And in that time, if this sorcerer really wanted to kill him, she certainly could have. Standing takes an immense amount of effort. One of his ears is ringing badly. Something squelches underfoot. It looks like liquified flesh. Smells like it too. The floor is covered in this foul substance. A new wave of nausea rolls over him. James gags, covering his mouth with his hand. He takes in a breath, but the action provides little relief.
Weakly, he looks up. Flies. Hundreds of thousands of them coating the ceiling. Their wings glint black as they flap in unison.
Her hand brushes across his forearm briefly, and it's as if his chest has been pumped with an electrical current strong enough to stop his heart. The muscle beats in an irregular pattern. Thump! Thump-thump, thump-thump-thump! Thump! 
With each step she takes, a squelching noise follows, like boots getting stuck in mud. “You’re pretty strong.” She says. “You're from this era, aren't you? You're a cut above the usual grunts I run into.”
"What the hell did you do to me?" 
“My cursed technique saps a human being of their lifespan.” She continues, “you were supposed to live to the age of fifty-six. Through our brief contact, I have shaved twenty years off your lifespan.”
“Twenty years…?!” James sucks in a breath. Why was his lifespan so short in the first place? Fifty-six certainly isn't young, but it's not particularly old either. Not in the modern age, at least.
If he makes it out of this fight, that leaves him with nine years. Maybe less. Of course, she could be bluffing. Saying such a thing would be a decent fear tactic.
“Don't act so surprised,” she says. “You're a heavy smoker, a borderline alcoholic, and your diet primarily consists of fast food. Combine this with a high stress life-style and you’re a heart attack waiting to happen,
“The thing is… I know you.” She says. “Or I knew your ancestors. You’re the soulmate sorcerer. And I want something from you.”
James aims his revolver at her. Nobody is going to notice the noise in here. “You’re assuming I won't just kill you.”
“If you kill me here, you’re trapped in my domain forever.” She says. “Until you either go insane, someone brings me back and I let you out, or you find some way to off yourself. Either way, I'm certain that's not how you want to go out,
“I want the name of my soulmate. And I want to know if they’re still alive. Give me that, and you’re free to go,
“Of course, I can't let you leave this place without making some sort of binding vow. I'm sorry, but the laws of my cursed technique only allow so much,
“That woman you're with—you’re going to have to kill her,” she continues, “if she is not dead within the next nineteen days, my shikigami will have the remaining nine years of your life span, and you will die.”
A cold sweat breaks out on James’ forehead. “Why do you want her dead specifically?” He asks. “Why not have me kill any other player?”
“This woman has pissed me off, and I want her dead.” She answers, refusing to elaborate further.
James understood that it may come to that eventually. When your very survival is based on the deaths of one another, alliances only last so long. It's basic human nature. He's certain that, if it comes to it, he’ll be able to throw the killing blow. He doesn't want to, but he could do it.
“Now what do you need to find my soulmate?”
James swallows, but the lump in his throat refuses to go down.
“A bit of your blood.” He says, motioning for her to hold out her hand. She complies. He pricks the tip of her finger with his knife, drawing a small bead of blood, smearing it onto his palm. Slowly the string of fate begins to unravel, revealing a name.
“Attention!” Says a kogane, startling the pair near half to death, “a player has added a new rule to the game!”
Its mouth unravels like a scroll, revealing a list, numbered 1 through 10. 
10. Players may transfer a number of points of their choosing to another player
One of them did it. James lets out a sigh he hadn't realized he was holding. They did it.
James watches as the corners of her lips twitch.
“I'm going to give you five of my points,” she says. “Pretend you have killed me. I suppose we’ll meet again, if it comes to that,
“Kogane—I wish to transfer five of my points to this sorcerer.” Her own kogane appears, mouth unraveling like a scroll. She scans the list for a moment, before finding her name. Altogether, she has a little over forty points. So she's been going after sorcerers and humans.
“Why make a deal with Kenjaku?” James asks. “What could he possibly offer that's so great?”
“A chance to start over.” She says matter-of-factly. “Because I had regrets while I was alive. And I left this place with business I needed to finish.”
That's vague, he thinks. “Are you Angel, by any chance?” James asks.
“No,” she answers.
Five points have been added to: Whitford, James
The room seems to swirl into view all at once. James lands on his feet, before falling to his knees, gripping his shirt right where his heart should be. His heart beats in an irregular pattern, and he feels out of breath. A cold bead of sweat rolls down his back.
“Holy shit!” Mal says. “Are you alright?!”
Her hands are planting on his shoulders, roughly shaking him. His meager breakfast threatens to make a reappearance.
“I feel… nauseous.” James says, before gagging.
Mal lets him go, taking a step back. She eyes him warily. “You killed her?” She asks, almost as if she can't believe it. 
As if on cue, a Kogane appears, displaying:
Player name: Whitford, James
Current points: 15
It lingers for a moment, before disappearing as suddenly as it appeared. Fifteen points down. Only eighty-five to go.
"Did you know that sorcerer?" He asks.
"No," she says. "I've never seen her before. She must be a new player."
Somehow James doesn't buy that.
Nearly fifteen minutes pass as they walk in silence. To get into the lobby, they need a key fob. One is easily located on a body outside the main entrance. Someone has shut down the elevator, but the stairwells are unlocked. Wilting plants sit by the windows. Papers are strewn across the floor. It's dark, and the room is lit only by a faint red exit light. 
“Did you see that announcement? We can exchange points between each other now.” James says.
“Yeah. I wonder who put that into place.” She says.
In the dark, James fumbles around for a light switch. Harsh, white light fills the lobby. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light. At least there's power.
“Someone’s been here.” She says.
“How can you tell?” Asks James.
“Look,” she points to a door. “Those shoes over there.”
That could mean anything, he thinks. Must have been civilians. “Someone probably just forgot them.” 
“Don't you think it's a little odd, though?” She asks.
He shrugs. “I think they were in a hurry to leave.”
She props the door open, stepping out into the stairwell. Reluctantly, James follows her, and they begin the task of reaching the top floor. 
It's not until they're nearing the top floor that they find an exit unlocked. Most require keycards, of which they don't have. Others seem to be barred from the other side.
When they finally find an unlocked door, they leave through it, exiting out into the hall. The lights are on in this part of the building. Umbrellas and shoes are left out, as if people are still going to come back for them. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
Towards the end of the hall, where it takes a sudden left, is a closet. Aside from Mallory, he senses another soul—multiple souls, clustered together.
There's about eight people altogether, all huddled in this broom closet. A man, a woman, and the rest are kids. None look to be older than elementary schoolers; the oldest being about ten, the youngest around six.
The woman has a rifle pointed at James' face. And that's the last James expects to see of his face.
“M-move and I’ll shoot!” She says, her finger tightening around the trigger. "These are my students, and I am willing to defend them with my life."
"Woah, woah," James holds up his hands in defense, "that's not necessary. Nobody needs to defend anybody with their life right now—we're just looking for the roof access of this building."
"Why should we help you?" She spits. "All you shamans do is kill us for sport! You damn savages!"
That seems to strike a nerve with Mallory, who’s face twists into a scowl. James senses the sudden flare of her cursed energy.
"Listen lady, half of us didn't have a say in whether or not we would fight. Same as you, right?" Mal says. "We're all on the same page here."
"Civilians can leave the colony through two allotted exits," James says, " if you help us, we’ll help you. We’ll try to get you guys out of here."
“We will?” Mal asks.
“You can get us out of here?” The woman asks. “We can leave?”
“There's a rule in this game that allows nonplayers to leave.” James says. “In each colony there's at least two exits in which civilians can use. Problem is, we don't know where they are.”
Someone does. They have to. Mallory glares over at him, as if to ask “did you really have to add in that last part?”
The woman raises the rifle back to James’ eye level. “So I just have to take your word? Is that it?”
“Kei-sensei!" Says a girl, about the age of nine. "It's Ryo! He's-” 
"He needs his inhaler." She says. "We left in such a hurry, I hadn't even realized he forgot it." Kei sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. She pauses, mouth pressing into a thin line, before looking up at James. “If you get me his inhaler, we’ll help you. Then you’ll help us leave, right?”
James grimaces at the thought of being sent on another fetch quest. But Mal, showing an uncharacteristic amount of pity, nods and smiles.
"We’ll get you guys out of this place," Mal says. "Pinky promise?"
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