#might write a full fanfic on this tbh

[mitskis-lost-son]

the paladins of voltron are off on a mission, invading a galra mothership. the blade of marmora is also infiltrated. for whatever reason, keith isn't present. no one pays too much mind to it: they think he's back at the castle, with coran and allura.

lance is kidnapped/kept hostage by a galra sentry... and rescued by a member of the blade of marmora, who he grows too fond of.

the mission is over. they're back at the castle. keith is slightly late in catching up to them, a bit sweaty and rushed.

lance won't stop whining about his new galra boyfriend, a member of the blade of marmora.

pidge asks for the guy's name. lance buffs up, full of affection and pride: his name is yorak.

shiro bluescreens on the spot. keith starts to really look like he'd rather be anywhere that isn't the bridge. pidge is seeing a lot of equations all of a sudden. (somewhere along the multiverse, slav is laughing his ass off.)

in which keith has full control of his galra form and can shift between the perfectly human, paladin of the red lion, keith kogane... and the prodigy soldier of the blade of marmora, yorak, son of krolia. who just so happens to be lance's new alien crush/boyfriend.

[aeolianblues]

the real fiction in a lot of band AU fics is the amount of time bands seem to have on the evening of a show!

[protaetia]

🐞

[busycloudy]

The Love Potion

  • I've wanted to write this for FOREVER but I kept forgetting to💀 

•  ft: Dorm Leaders 

• Tw: Kissing(Not much tbh), and a love potion. 

• Very fluffy fanfic and crack

• The reader is MC and goes by they/them pronouns. The reader is already in a relationship with the dormleaders. 

• They may or may not be ooc 

• Hope ya enjoy!

--------------------------------------------------

 • To your horror Crewel assigned you, Ace, Deuce, and grim to make a love potion. Fun right? Wrong! 

• For whatever reason you had some hope that they wouldn't do anything wrong, so you casually put your drink somewhere near the cauldron, leaving to go get something. 

• Grim accidently knocked over the cauldron, spilling it EVERYWHERE, and what do you know, some got into your drink! 

• "Grim! Why'd you knock over the cauldron!" Ace argued. "It was on accident!" Grim frowned. They started arguing and Deuce was just watching, until you came back and picked up your drink to drink it. 

• "Wait, no, MC!" Deuce tried to stop you from drinking it, but it was to late. Ace and Grim finally stopped arguing and looked over to see a MC with hearts in their eyes. 

• The trio brought you over to Crewel and told him about what had happened. "Are you pups always so stupid?" Crewel frowned. "Professor can you please just tell us if this is going to be permanent?" Ace asked. "Luckily not, but it will last 24 hours" Crewel said. 

• The trio did not want to be stuck with a lovesick MC for 24 hours so they brought you to your lover.

Riddle Rosehearts

"What have you three done this ti- MC!" He rushed over to grab you from Ace and Deuce's arms. "Riddle, has anyone ever told you that you look adorable?" You said. "Cause you do..." You also said, then giving him a peck on the lips. "W-What Mc?" Riddle was beyond confused(and flustered) Sure you guys were in a relationship, but you never were this affectionate in public. "Yeah, um, they kinda drank a love potion..." Ace said. After he said that Deuce, Ace, and Grim ran for their dear lives. "You three get back here!" Riddle didn't chase them though, still holding you in his arms. "MC, why you still hang out with those three is something I'll never understand..." Riddle mumbled while taking you to his room. "Hm, I wonder if there's a cure..." Riddle said as he layed you down on his bed, then starting to walk away, but he felt a tug on his sleeve. "Hm? Yes MC?" He turned around to see you tugging on his sleeve. "C'mon Riddle, just stay with me for a bit" You said with a fake pout. "Oh dear, MC im not so s-" Riddle said. "Please..." You cut him off. "Fine, but only for a bit" He said with a soft smile, going in to the bed with you. You guys ended up cuddling for practically all day. "I might have to thank those three..." You heard him mumble.

Leona Kingscholar

Ruggie took you to the lions room after the trio gave you to him and said"Take them to Leona for us!" and ran off. "What a bunch of wimps..." Ruggie said. You two eventually made it to Leona's room to find him... Sleeping(How shocking😲😕) Ruggie just layed you down next to Leona and went his own ways. Leona turned over to see a heart eyed MC. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't delusional. He realized you had drunken a love potion and smirked. "Leona, has anyone told you how amazing you are?" You said. "Nope, just you herbivore" He smiled, wrapping his tail around your waist to bring you closer. As he brought you closer he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. "Well you really are" You said, truly lovesick. You just gave this man a full on ego boost and he is bragging about it, love potion or not. You two cuddled the rest of the day, but lets be honest he would cuddle you for a whole day even if you didn't drink a love potion.

Azul Ashengrotto

Let's be honest he probably has a cure, but is he gonna use it? No. He thought you were just absolutely adorable when Ace and Deuce brought you to him, why would he use a cure? He told Floyd and Jade the reason he didn't use the cure was because "They clearly are not in a state to sign a contract and make an agreement with me." We all know that was a lie and he would never make you sign a contract for things like a cure. "Azul why don't you come and cuddle me?" You asked when Azul was doing paperwork. His face turned slightly red. You walked up to behind him and put your arms over his shoulders putting your weight on him. "Please?" You said with a fake pout. He eventually gave in and cuddled you on the couch some. Floyd came across the room and took some pictures to tease Azul about it later on. Sadly Azul eventually had to continue his paperwork.

Kalim Al-Asim

If he had any party's that day, he canceled them all when the Adeuce duo brought you over and said you accidentally drank a love potion. "MC! I'm so happy to see you! They drank a love potion? I'll make sure to care for them!" He said. He is just the sweetest most innocent person ever. "Kalim, has anyone ever mentioned how adorable you are? Because you are so adorable!" You booped him on the nose. He hugged you, cuddled you, kissed you. He did literally anything that was affectionate in some way. You guys were mainly in his room being lovebirds (In the most innocent way possible you dirty minded person). Near the end of the day, you two cuddled in his room to pass time.

Why is this one so short😭

Vil Schoenheit

Vil was casually walking around Pomefiore when he felt a tap on his shoulder. "Uh, Vil, we need you to take care of MC..." Deuce awkwardly said. "What have you three potatoes done this time?" Vil crossed his arms. "They kinda...drank a love potion..." Deuce gave a awkward smile. Vil looked over to see you with hearts in your eyes and sighed. Deuce, Ace and Grim then left you with Vil. "Dear, why do you still hangout with those three..." He mumbled. "Vil has anyone told you you're gorgeous" You smiled. "Hm?" Vil might have been a bit taken aback by your sudden sentence. "You truly are the fairest in the land" You continued. "Thank you potato" Vil gave you a soft smile. The two of two walked to his room and hanged out most of the day. You may or may not have smothered him in kisses, which he then gave you a kiss on your cheek and forehead, leaving a lipstick stain. When you look in the mirror the next day you might see a lipstick stain on your neck.

Idia Shroud

Idia was playing video games as always until Ortho came in his room telling Idia you drank a love potion. Idia did not know what to do at that moment. Ortho put you on your boyfriend's bed and left. You kinda just sat there watching him play his video games and do what he normally does. Suddenly you had gotten up and draped your arms on his shoulders which might've startled him some. You put your head on his shoulder, and his hair turned pink. "Uh- Do you need anything MC?" He nervously asked. "Nothing, just wanted to cuddle you" You mumbled. When I tell you his face flushed, his face flushed. His hair could not have been more pink. He continued to do his things and you kinda just stood there behind him relaxing. After a while you had stopped and went to lay in his bed, and he soon joined you.

Malleus Draconia

The trio brought you over to Malleus and the sky may or may not have become a bit cloudy, but it cleared up right after because Malleus thought you were absolutely adorable in this state! "Malleus! MC drank a love potion!" Grim ran in the dorm, Ace and Deuce behind him, carrying you(So dramatic for what?) Malleus didn't expect you to be so affectionate. You sat near him on the couch, but then you layed down and put your head in his lap. "Malleus has anyone ever told you how amazing you are?" You smiled at him. He raised a questioning brow before you continued. "Because you truly are amazing darling" You continued. The sky was definitely a lot sunnier throughout the day to say the least. You guys cuddled near the end of the day, and really just most of the day (Sebek was not happy)

______________________________________________________________

I finally finished it! This took 10× longer than I thought it would! I don't really know how to write Kalim and Malleus so if their ooc, or any of the dorm leaders are ooc, sorry!

Hope ya enjoyed!

Edit: 940 likes!? Y'all are amazing! Just wanted to say tysm for supporting my writing and I'm currently working on pt 2! It might take some time as I struggle to write certain characters.

Part 2 here

Have a splendid day!

[meganelixabethh]

I know I won’t get it- but I want Sunrise on the Reaping to be about Effie Trinket- it would be such a good book!!! All we really know is that the book starts on the 50th reaping and that it’s a look at propaganda. We also know our girl Suzanne only writes when she has something to say- and what better time to make the Effie Trinket Point than now?

Don’t get me wrong- I love to read the fanfics of Effie being disenfranchised from the top of the first book and helping the rebels every step of the way- I live for it- but I also don’t think it’s reality for the canon. Effie Trinket is a character with grey morality at best in the first book. No she’s not organising the games, or planning them, she’s not the iron fist that forces the children to comply nor is she the driving force behind the tradition- hell if she didn’t do it someone else would, right? But she picks the names. She chooses to be close to it. She isn’t as horrified as she should be

SHE. IS. COMPLICIT.

But if you asked her- if you sat her down and said heart of hearts, do you care about these children? She would say yes. She has a complete mental disconnect between the harm she is causing and the compassion she feels for the people being harmed. This is a direct comparison to the modern approach to harm. Just look at Palestine.

I also don’t believe Effie saw anything wrong with the games until one very specific moment. She looked at the glass ball at the 75th reaping and saw a single piece of paper, and she thought ‘this isn’t chance. This isn’t a game. This is a choice and I don’t want to pick up that slip of paper’. I whole heartedly believe it took an emotional closeness to the person being harmed to make her realise all those people were just the same as her- EXACTLY LIKE WE DO IN THE WEST.

Further details under the cut. TW for death, implied SA and pregnancy loss.

So the book starts with the 50th reaping- Effie is between 6 and 16 depending on how old you think she is. I personally think she’s about 8-10. I also think this is the first games where she’s really gotten involved in and is interested in the whole thing from start to finish. She watches the reapings and is absolutely enraptured with Haymitch from the moment he gets on stage- full on little girl crush mode. She follows the whole game and is so happy when he wins. This is the summer she decides she wants to work in the games. She follows the games every summer, gets a glamorous games job in the Capitol when she graduates (I think she went to uni tbh our girl is smart) and then became an escort.

When she’s offered 12 she’s annoyed- after all she’s the darling of the games circuit and she’s put her time in- but 12 is the only job going and if she wants the promotion she needs to take it. She thinks fondly of Haymitch’s games though. She no longer has her little girl crush on him, but she assumes the drunkenness must be an act for the Capitol, some kind of play. When she gets to 12 she realises it’s not. She sees how broken he is. She sees that this destroyed him and she just… doesn’t get it. She develops a fondness for him, still completely believing in the games, and they work together happily enough as far as she’s concerned. She starts dragging him out of bed and shoving him into nice clothes to make the district look good at first, but then she does it because she thinks it might be the only time he has anyone making sure he looks after himself. She is genuinely sad when their tributes die every year. She cries in her room at night after they go, and Haymitch can hear her through the wall when he’s sober enough.

Then the 74th happen. She loves Katniss and Peeta- I fully believe that. She likes them from the beginning, she agrees they have a chance, and when she’s not trying for sponsors, her and Haymitch sit in silence in the penthouse, watching and watching and watching. She grips his hand tightly for hours at a time, eyes almost unblinking and fixed on the screen, knees drawn up to her chest. It’s the first time he sees her as human, and she almost breaks his knuckles during the finale with the mutts. The moment they win, she lets out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding and went to celebrate her first victors. She deliberately turned her face away from the horror because it was easier to not feel the breadth of it. She does exactly what we did to Ukraine. What we continue to do to Palestine.

To be completely clear- she still thinks the games are right through all of this. When she comes back for the victory tour she still thinks this is all fantastic. That mental disconnect is still there. But then eleven happens. If I’m remembering right she gets blood on her and is freaking out about her dress but I would like to see that from her side. I want to see that an innocent man was shot through the head so close to her, his blood and brains splattered across her dress and her skin. I want to see her freak out and everyone assume it’s about the dress but it’s actually about the fact she saw the light leave his eyes. This is the night she goes to Haymitch. She asks him for a drink and she asks him if he thought the man felt it. He isn’t kind to her. He asks her if she ever wondered if the kids felt it? If he felt it? This is the first time they sleep together. She doesn’t spend the night in his cabin. Their physical relationship continues but nothing else changes.

Then the quarter quell- she’s upset when Snow announces the rules. She feels hard done by but also scared for Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch. She understands that she’s avoiding the issue in her mind but she clings to the idea that the games are good so she doesn’t have to face up to the horror she helped meter out. It’s that glass reaping ball that does it. That glass ball with a single slip of paper in that breaks the back of her indoctrination. It all falls on top of her all at once. Her sobs after the bloodbath, alone in her room, the desperation she felt, not just for Katniss and Peeta to live, but for her to not have to watch them die, the man in eleven, the quarter quell, Hatmitch’s sharp words, the drink she craved after she saw it, the smile she plastered on, Haymitch’s hand gripped tightly in hers, the most genuine connection she’s felt in years and oh god are you supposed to be this fucking tired when you’re only 35? She looks at that paper and she is almost incandescent with rage. She loves Katniss and she doesn’t want to be the one who says her name. She doesn’t want to do this anymore. She doesn’t want this life. She doesn’t want the games to happen at all. She’s done.

But now she’s afraid. She’s seen avoxes, she knows what happens to rebels and she’s not quite brave enough to say anything to Haymitch other than veiled comments. She’s not sure he agrees with her and he’s not sure it wasn’t an accidental turn of phrase. The moment the arena blows out she’s dragged away in handcuffs. The prison is harrowing. What little hair she has is shaved off and she spends hours having questions thrown at her that she doesn’t have the answers to. She’s beaten, electrocuted and starved. Her bones are broken, they pull a few of her teeth out and some of the things they do are so awful she can’t even bring herself to think about it inside her own head. She doesn’t feel brave. She doesn’t have the answers to give them and she’s not sure she wouldn’t tell them if she did. She’s too Capitol for the rebels and too district for the Capitol. She’s not rescued, she’s released at the end of the war. Well, ‘released’ is a strong word. The guards unlock all the doors and tell them they have been pardoned and then walk out. She drags herself outside, clutching the walls and collapses in the courtyard as a humanitarian aid worker rushes over.

She spends the first tumultuous month sedated in a hospital bed, blissfully unaware of Coin’s assassination and the last games. When she comes to, Haymitch is sat at her bedside, looking haggard and tired. She looks better than she did on the floor of the courtyard, but not by much. When he sees her open her eyes he smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He apologises for not managing to get her out. She knows she should be cross with him, but she can’t find the energy to blame him. They’ve both wasted so much time already. She pushes herself up shakily and wraps her atrophied arms around his neck, telling him that it doesn’t matter, that he’s here now. When he lowers her back down, she asks immediately after Katniss and Peeta. He tells her what happened in as painless terms as he can find, and when he’s done, she can barely keep her eyes open, tears tracking silently down her hollowed cheeks. He gently kisses her on the forehead and says he’ll be back tomorrow. It takes her a long, long time to recover.

She finds out the rest of what happened while she was imprisoned and hospitalised in dribs and drabs. Some from him, some from news, some from conversations she overhears. It takes months and months before she tells him, in halting sentences, when happened in the prison. She doesn’t tell him everything. Some things are too awful to know. They’ve not resumed their physical relationship, but they feel inexplicably drawn to one another, and in a fit of impulsivity, he invites her to come to 12 when he leaves and she does. He doesn’t ask a lot of questions, but she does tell him, eventually, all the things that led to her renouncing the games just before the rebellion. He admits to her the doctor told him she was pregnant when they found her, but miscarried while she was asleep. She can’t get out of bed for days afterwards and he brings her food and water until she’s ready to get up again. She’s glad he knows in a way. She’s glad she never had to tell him what they did to her in there.

The next summer rolls around, and Effie is finally well enough to walk up to the woods outside the district and spends all day picking wildflowers. She ties them into attractive arrangements just like her mother taught her, using brown string instead of satin ribbons. Haymitch is in the newly built square when she arrives with her flowers. She lays them all gently on the ground, one for each child she reaped, including Prim. Haymitch walks over to her as she bows her head, slipping her hand into his. She says she’s sorry, he says ‘I know sweetheart’ and the book ends there

I know we aren’t going to get this, it’s not even a possibility but a girl can dream.

[unfortunatebrainfarts]

After working with your friendly neighborhood intergalactic space cowboy for quite some time, you've managed to become pretty damn good at understanding the gist of what he means to say

Boothill x reader

A/n: OK SO, first fanfic in like 6 years and it's for an intergalactic space cowboy

Tbh I have no idea why I wrote this, my ipad apps are constantly monitored by the teacher and I really have nothing better to do than go on my notes app and pretend I'm writing notes

HAVE AN AMAZING DAY = I HOPE YOU GET FUCKED BY THE IPC AND ROLL IN YOUR OWN DEBT AND SUFFERING (or something like that)

BLESS YOUR HEART = FUCK YOU

PRAY FOR ME = FUCK ME

LOVELY = FUCK

YOU WONDERFUL PERSON = YOU BITCH

Well ain't you just a sweetheart? = Well you're just a little bitchboy aren'tcha?

God love him = He was fuckin' underdeveloped as a fetus wasn't he (Something along the lines of 'he's dumb as shit')

"Hm. Seems about right."

To others, your furrowed brows, tense posture, and concentrated gaze at just one singular page of your notebook may make it seem as if whatever was on that page was something life changing. And honestly, they might as well have been right since you were one step closer to understanding what the hell Boothill was spitting out more than half the time.

You recall the first time you were assigned a mission with him — "BLESS YOUR HEART YOU WONDERFUL PERSON," cue you snapping your head towards the gruff voice seeing the cowboy in all his glory easily decimating the dozens of grunts in his vicinity with a toothy grin no less, which you note are very, very sharp.

His long, flowy hair caught your attention. How was it so white and clean even with all the fights you know gets into? Does it ever get yanked? What shampoo does he use?

"Now I don' mind some ooglin', but wouldn't ya say we should keep our eyes on our enemies darlin'?"

His voice snaps you out of your trance and you come to to a shovel nearing your head. You instinctively cover your face with your hands anticipating the pain, the pain which never came since when you put them down, you see that Boohill had already left a bullet in his head.

"Spacin' out at a space cowboy? Ain't that rich."

.

Ignoring the fact that he saved you from having to get facial reconstruction surgery, the reason you almost got a face full of shovel in the first place was because of the ridiculous curse on his synesthesia beacon.

That's why you've been devoted to trying to decode the albeit hilarious, rather inconvenient in a battle things he says. You've tried asking Boothill to write them down, but his handwriting could have him assigned as a doctor in no time so you gave up on that idea quite quickly.

"Whatcha starin' at so intently darlin'?

Your train of thought was abruptly interrupted by the man of the hour mindlessly snatching your notebook right out of your hands. "Aren't you supposed to stop thieves, not act like one," you ask half heartedly. It was nothing less of what you'd expect from Boothill of all people — no, cyborgs??

"Heh, this ain't thievery 's sharin'! Er, what's that one sayin' again... share to care, care to share, sharin' to carin'? Eh whatever ya get what I mean don'tcha sugar?" He retorted, you roll your eyes mentally as he put his focus back onto the notebook. To be honest you were surprised he could even read considering his handwriting was that bad.

As Boothill read each and every one of your 'translations', his grin only grew wider and wider showing the spiky teeth you don't know how are natural but have grown accustomed to seeing. Just then, a burst of unhinged laughter randomly filled the entire lounge room you were sitting in. The weird glances and whispering were already starting but Boothill didn't care, he was Boothill.

Not wanting to be associated with the man at that very moment, you stand up to leave him comically rolling on the floor. However, you couldn't even do that because the moment you stood up, Boothill snatched your leg and dragged it so that you would fall back down. This time, onto the floor with him. "Well ain't you something sweetcheeks, ya got me alll figured out huh?"
.

.

It's been two months. Ever since Boothill realized that you had actually tried to figure out the true meaning behind his words — and actually got them relatively right — he's been using you to spew out insults overtime. Honestly it was like you had become a pokemon, you could just picture it in your head.

BOOTHILL BROUGHT OUT ____

____ USED SWEAR! IT WAS SUPER EFFECTIVE

Either way, it wasn't that bad since though you might be imagining things, it feels as if you've grown ever so slightly closer to the eccentric space cowboy.

You continue to observe boothill and add more and more onto your list of translations, but apparently you fail to notice that he no longer uses any casual pet names like 'darling' or 'sweetcheeks' anymore. At least, not for anyone but you.

[queenendless]

🎆❣️A Future Bright (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader ft Various JJK)❣️🎆

A/n: So short cause I have officially run out of JJK fuel. It might not be the best but I wanted to get something out today so sorry about that. S2 is done. I will miss it and writing for this show. But I need a long ass break from JJK. Like 5 months. Make sense to me.

Referring to everyone by their first names in this, side ships, mainly poly SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader.

And thnx u to everyone whose followed, liked, reblogged and enjoyed my JJK fan content these past few months. Imma work on other anime fanfic content after I take a break. Tbh? I wanna write for BNHA Hawks. He's growing on me. And maybe Demon Slayer stuff with Tengen and his wives. Idk yet, we'll see.

PLEASE DON'T PLAGARIZE STEAL COPY TRANSLATE AND/OR REPOST MY FANFIC WORK. Rather reblog like and follow please and thnx u.

Booths and stalls lined up both sides of various roads.

Rows of lanterns hung from the treelines to the lampposts.

Droves of people flocked. From wearing kimonos to just plain snuggly attire to battle the coldness.

Praying at the shrines to make wishes for the coming year came first.

After that, chaos ensued.

A squealing Nobara hurried over to embrace her lifelong friends Fumi-chan and Saori-chan before introducing them to Maki who was keeping it cool to Nobara's admiration.

Kento brushes something off Yu's scarred cheek only for the younger man to kiss his stern partner fully on the mouth.

A teasing Mai and Momo along with a reluctant but curious Kasumi dragging a stubborn blushing Kokichi off to doll him up with various trinkets and hats they spotted at various booths.

Ieiri and Utahime trying to catch some goldfish at one of those booths. Utahime shouting out her constant success at catching them fishes; her competitiveness shining through, and Ieiri calmly cheering her wife on.

Yuji laughed while Megumi and Junpei smiled at his radiant expression while chowing down on barbecue skewers together.

That was long before your salmon haired boi yelled out in alarm as a heated Todo chased him in his fervent pursuit to drag his brother off to see the Takada-chan's New Year's Eve live special screening at Shibuya crossing.

Noritoshi eating a kebab as Yuki filmed the whole chase beside him, aimed at Choso as he let Yuji jump into his arms and speed off with Todo right at their heels, dust clouds left in their wake.

Riko and Misato shooting darts at a gaming booth all to get the familiar looking, long as hell, rainbow dragon plush to the girls delight.

Atsuya dragged his bae Hiromi by his collar into the nearest bar just to get away from your group and drink to their retired hearts content.

Masamichi and Yoshinobu sharing sake in the place across from said bar.

Yuta kissed both Rika and Toge on their stuffed cheeks as their mouths were full of sweets; mochi cheeks he spotted in his mesmerized gaze.

Right before Panda, carrying plushies by the armful, dumped his winnings all over his ecstatic buddies.

Spotting Toji and Shiu amiss the crowd, eyeing his son as his protective brother instincts creaked out as he played tug of war with Tsumiki who was stubbornly set on kissing a dopey grinning Junpei some more as her lipstick marked his rosey cheek.

Toji snorted at the sight before being dragged off by the arm by Shiu, opting to get a better view, a less crowded spot at that.

Nanako and Mimiko running around with sparklers lite.

Tears filled up your eyes to the brim.

Seeing so much happiness.

So much positivity.

All amassing here.

All in this moment.

Together.

Your mind flashed.

What could have been …

Buildings sliced and diced to mince.

Magma erupts from the streets, encasing all in its range.

A circle of darkness that continues to grow.

No lights.

No life.

Barred from all.

You were getting caught up in your mind too much lately.

Thinking too much, wandering in too deep, letting intrusive thoughts cloud the light.

Your knees trembled, your grip slipping, you wrap around your belly, prepared to not let it get the brunt of the fall.

“Y/n!”

His long raven locks flowed in the breeze. His almond brown eyes are so vibrant and sharp and alive.

“Sugu!” You weeped immediately into his charcoal robes, grasping handfuls of his front, alarming him tremendously.

“Y/n! Be careful! What's wrong!?”

“I'm just so happy we're all together celebrating tonight!” Your waterworks hit him right in the face as he led you two to a bench to rest your bloated sore self.

“Tiredness, mood swings, they do come with pregnancy, love.” Suguru calmly explained as you clung to him, pulling your legs up to rest on the space left on the bench.

“Perhaps we should take you home early. I am terribly sorry if we pushed you too much with coming here … jeez. Now where did Satoru go this time?”

Warping right by your side nearly gave you a heart attack. Even still, you were never quite prepared for Toru's spontaneity.

Getting down on one knee, Satoru tenderly caressed and smooched your clothed bump. “Right here~!”

“Toru!” You yanked the man up by his sleeve, having him sit beside you as well as he draped your legs over his lap as he let you cuddle him and weep in his neck.

His shades titled down to reveal his devoted gaze as he carefully pulled you atop his lap, nuzzling your head as he exchanged smooches with Suguru. “Aww, wifey. It's okay. We're here. Just think. A new year. New hijinks. New possibilities!”

Suguru's head rested on your shoulder as his heated breath made you mewl. “And a new addition to our family.”

Viewing the kids all animated, the adults mingling, the buzz in the air, it all helped to ease the unrest in your hormonal self.

“I hope we can continue living out our somewhat sense of peace in the new year.” You murmured, humming as they gently smothered you in their plush chests and secure arms.

“Agreed.” Their giant sculpted hands felt your bump together, wistfully grinning as you smiled shedding tears of joy.

An upbeat song blared out through the speakers.

Next thing you know, few turned to many dancing.

Lost in paradise.

For a dance mob has formed.

Yugi, returning out of the blue, took the lead, bopping with his usual upbeat finesse.

Megumi wasn't dancing, more like bashfully scratching the back of his head, too shy to look anyone in the eye, until a beaming Yuji had him, helping his boyfriend loosen up.

Nobara twirled and swirled, tugging her girls in to all get in sync and flaunting their beautiful strong selves.

And Gojo, in all his glory, was swaying with style, cause of course he wanted to get down most of all. Yuta, Yuji, Megumi, even the twins flanked both his sides, strutting their stuff.

From Takuma to Choso to even Panda, everyone you knew found the groove. From found family to your work buddies. Even the tipsy adults. Even the former assassin and his handler buddy. Even a well disguised Nobuko who had her bodyguards on standby also in disguise warily kept their eyes on the heart eyed Aoi Todo.

The dancing flash mob you never expected to happen did in fact happen.

They clapped, they swayed, they spun, they did it all!

The ships sailed as many familiar faces knew how to dance so acrobatically well. Leave the sight to the imagination.

Fireworks began littering the sky.

The billboard's timer struck 00:00.

Cheers and claps rang as embraces were exchanged.

You giggled as Suguru Geto swept you up in his arms, cupping the back of your head and your cheek to kiss you passionately.

You just had to ask.

“Where would I be without all of you?”

Satoru warped again back to you just to smirk at your jump scare. “Probably bored out of your mind.” You and Suguru shut your white haired husband up by slapping his shoulders to his snickering amusement.

“It goes both ways, Satoru.”

“Aw, I love you too Suguru~” He pulled his shades up to rest on his head as those Six Eyes glowed with love for the growing life in your belly you three made together. “All of you.”

You two peppered kisses all over Satoru's laughing face as the rest of your found family danced the first night of the new year away.

[yellowocaballero]

So fucking glad to see someone talk about SSS Class revival hunter 😭 I lived it so much and I feel like no one ever mentions it against more popular titles like ORV or even The Lout of the counts family, so I'm so glad to come here and see your amazing takes :>

Thank you for the ask which lets me talk about SSSCRH (the version I read was titled 'Suicide Hunter', which tbh I like more - no beating around the bush).

It's hard to draw an accurate comparison since I'm going off just the webtoon for SSSCRH, while I'm going off both the webtoon and the webnovel for ORV. And I love ORV, ORV is my media blorbo right now, it hydraulic presses my brain, I am writing ORV fanfic - it's, like, funner to enjoy. But SSSRH is just better. In the vast majority of ways it is is better. It's better than the holy trinity by a wide margin. TW talk of suicide obviously.

I can't believe I'm saying this but you need a basic understanding of Buddhism in order to understand SSSCRH. It's not about Gongja's suicides - he doesn't suicide from depression or lack of self-esteem. SSSCRH is about suffering in the Buddhist sense - dukkha. I don't want to make this an essay, so I might reblog this with more information, but extremely shortly:

The Four Noble Truths of Buddhism is the truth of suffering, the truth of the cause of suffering, the truth of the end of suffering, and the truth of the path that leads to the end of suffering. You've heard that Buddhists say 'life is suffering'. To put it one way that doesn't require defining a lot of words: the cause of suffering is experiencing the world as we percieve it instead of how it truly is. Suffering isn't just being miserable and in pain, and life isn't suffering because life sucks and global warming exists and people voted for Trump. Life is suffering because we can experience beautiful and joyful moments in this world, but we do not exist in the moment of that happiness or place our ego/'self' between us and that happiness. Living in that moment, accepting the moment as it is unconditionally, is freedom from suffering. The Buddha tries to free people from suffering through teaching Buddhism.

"What does this have to do with the webnovel and manwha about a guy murdering himself thousands of times" it has everything to do with it. Because SSSCRH is about suffering, and it is about using suffering as a tool in order to experience a world unfiltered by ego and break down the artificial boundaries between human beings. Suffering in SSSCRH is not a bad thing. Gongja has the unique capability to (reincarnate.) experience a person's suffering in unity with them, which dissolves the delusion of separation between people and puts us in touch with the reality of oneness.

The Murim arc was fucking insane because Gongja pulls a Big Bodhisattva Move and walks through the suffering of the world in order to achieve full understanding of the human experience. He takes all of the suffering of the world into himself and is liberated. You can tell it's Buddhist because death was not presented as a bad thing - death was an aspect of a happy ending for the Heavenly Demon lady, because she was finishing her life according to her own joy, and because her teachings were passed on she did not truly die.

But the purpose of embracing suffering is to discover the ability to fully embrace life, and that's where Heavenly Demon's teachings were incomplete - as the ghost dude said, Gongja hasn't even experienced his own full life and the infinite capability for his own happiness. You can only feel the depths of sadness when you've felt the depths of happiness. Sadness deserves its place in the world and it can strengthen you, but so does happiness.

Gongja is attention-seeking, envious, and unbelievably petty. When he drills down into his own desires and why he wants the things he wants, you see that he has a very strong sense of justice and right and wrong - he realizes he doesn't want to be famous, he wants to be acknowledged, but on an even deeper level he is desperate for love and to be loved. Everything he does is to experience love, and as such he learns to love others. His love for the Flamey Asshole was purely parasocial and ego-filled, with no concern for who he was as a human. Throughout the manwha, he grows to care for people as they truly are and pierce through any delusions or misleading outward appearances. He has released all attachment to life and death, and as such does not fear death, and as such has taken a step on the road towards becoming a Boddhisatva who frees others from the cycle of samsara, and as a result has learned sick sword techniques and is sooo good at beating people up.

I think the only other thing I want to mention here because otherwise this is an essay: in almost every time loop/regression story, only the final regression matters. In stories with dungeon monsters and NPCs, only the humans matter. The regressor exists in a space where there are no consequences for their actions, so they act terribly and do whatever because none of it matters. In Groundhog Day Bill Murray acts like an asshole because he can. That's not the case here. Everything Gongja does matters. The NPCs are fake, but Gongja never treats them as anything less than real people who deserve life. Once he understands a person's life he never treats them as unimportant. No loop is thrown away and no person or life is disregarded. His choices matter, the way he treats others matters, and Gongja never treats anybody as if they don't matter except for himself.

That was not short. There is a lot more. The female characters are so good and so rich. From a craft perspective it is excellently paced and has a wonderful sense of set-up/payoff and balances tone and maintains a lot of momentum, which is really hard in a time loop story. You have to do a few very specific things to write OP characters well and SSSCRH does it very well. There's more to say from a craft perspective and it's hard to judge accurately from a webtoon but it's good. I was so strangely struck the entire time about how sincere and genuine it was, how it said what it said with no trace of irony of confusion, and I think that's what stuck with me the most.

TL;DR: SSS Class Revival Hunter is good for a lot of very normal reasons, such as excellent pacing and set-up/pay off and characters, but it's also so sincerely and genuinely Buddhist that it blew my tits clean off.

[superfallingstars]

Hello, do you have any marauders fic recs? I’m a big marauders fan but I’m so tired of reading fics where they feel completely out of character, and I feel like you might know something I don’t

Aw man I’m the wrong person to ask for this, I don’t really read fics very often lol. I’ll try to enlist the help of some people whose Marauders opinions I trust and who might have better recs than me (tbh I’m also curious to hear), but I’ll share the few that I’ve come across, too. Apologies if you've already read them.

I think my most relevant rec is The Night Will Always Win by betweenfactandbreakfast, which is a canon-compliant Marauders era fic from 1975-1981. Admittedly I haven’t finished it – tbh I liked it so much that I had to stop reading it, which sounds so incredibly dumb now that I wrote it out, but I was legitimately getting pissed off that I had to do things in real life instead of reading it lmao. Time to take a step back...! Either way, I’ve really enjoyed it so far. And I’ve seen @seriousbrat's inbox turn into a battleground of endless Snape vs. Marauders discourse, so I know their feelings on the characters are pretty similar to mine lol (and hiii I know you have been in this fandom for much longer than I have, so maybe you have some good recommendations?). Basically this is a good fic if you want everyone to be a terrible person <3

The other fic I can rec is Have Your Cake and Eat It by cunegonde, aka my favorite fic of all time (that I could scream about literally foreverrrr but I’ll try to reel myself in!). This is a good fic if you want everyone to be a good person. Also this fic has time travel in it, so it’s like, kind of Marauders era, but not quite? Even though it’s kind of cliche, it’s also incredibly earnest and thoughtfully done, and it has interesting (and imo, realistic!) characterizations of each of the Marauders. Tbf I’m definitely biased toward this author’s work because they basically only write Snupin (my personal fave pairing), but reading their stuff is like, genuinely why are you writing Harry Potter fanfiction and not a full-length original novel, because holy fuck I think you could actually pull that off. Like, I loved this fic so much that I (person who doesn't read fanfic) immediately read everything else they wrote and finished it all in two days... Also this fic made me cry for literally an hour straight (probably the strongest emotional reaction I’ve had to any piece of media ever lol) – even though I knew what was coming. It was just that good.

Unfortunately that’s literally all I got lol. I’m going to tag some people who I think have similar takes on the Marauders as I do – @seriousbrat @remus-poopin @big-scary-bird @saintsenara – hiii, add on if you’d like. And anyone else who has recommendations of Marauders fics with good characterization, feel free to chime in!

[just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace]

Okay have read “tides of fate” now.

First: obligatory fave quote: “No sooner had he breathed the air into his new lungs than he had claimed your mouth, fell with you to the ground on the very spot where his new feet had first touched it, and begged to have his wife.”

Like yes, babe, and it was hot as fuck.

Second: that it was evil!reader that persuaded Sauron back on track instead of maybe considering going home with his tail between his legs makes “Defied” so much spicier. Now it has an undercurrent of “you wouldn’t even be here without me, why won’t you listen? Why won’t you yield just a little?” It calls attention to the fact that Sauron thinks of her as a part of him, not just in the cutesy way but also (subconsciously and probably buried deep in his mind) as a part of him to serve his purposes. A beloved vital organ, barred from going against him in anyway.

My longstanding conspiracy theory is that Sauron (esp as you write him but generally) has a need to be Adored, (in canon in the sense of being worshipped, in fanfic land in both worship and the romantic relationship sense). I think your evil reader series couples really well with that, in the sense that your Sauron both needs to be adored and to adore. That he has a SO so intertwined with his story, his plots and schemes satisfies both needs.

I think he feeds on evil!reader’s desire of him in a very real way. I do wonder how he’d fare given the “it’s me or the rings” ultimatum but for real. I also lowkey wonder if his proposal to form The Two, by mixing their blood together, might have something to do with potentially binding her to him even more permanently, so no matter how angry or disappointed or abandoned she felt she would never be able to forsake him. He’d have to be banking on his maiar blood overpowering hers and keeping her from having a similar impact on him, I guess.

Anyways, these are the ramblings I have to offer today. Thanks for the great fic 💜

Oh they are excellent ramblings👀 I perfectly agree that Sauron wants to be admired, and I think that’s also why when someone tries to call him Sauron aka “the Abhorred” he kind of deflects with his go-to line ‘I’ve had many names’.

As for their relationship, in my mind, the more involved they get with the Rings, the more things spiral out of control. I did have the fight in Defied on my mind while I was writing this, cause in that one reader is the one backtracking a little while Sauron just goes full-speed ahead and that’s partially because at that point he especially is more and more blinded by his greed for the Rings, since they are literally made of him. There is a hope on both their parts that The Two will help put them back on the same track and make their union even stronger, but tbh at the moment I don’t see it going that well😅 Like, there might be such a thing as ‘too close’. I was listening to Over each other by Linkin Park, and it made me think of a potential period of decline between them where their thoughts are so intertwined by the influence of The Two that it feels like ‘all they are is talking over each other’:

Reaching for satellites, but all along/Under your breath, you're sayin' that I was wrong, oh/The skyscrapers we created are comin' down/And free-fallin' to the pavement/Cause you won't let me breathe/And I'm not ever right/All we are is talkin'/Over each other

And that drives them insane and brings out the worst in them, making them blame each other for the mess as the peoples of Middle-Earth keep fighting back and their goal seems forever out of reach and ugh. It’s messy af and idk how (if) that’s gonna be fixed.

But I like to go hand in hand with canon so you guys don’t have to worry about that kind of angst any time soon. Good thing season 3 isn’t here yet😅

[spicerackofblorbos]

i'm GOD AWFUL at answering my asks unless they're requests, I'm sorry a;sldkfjas;df but to everyone who has sent me hearts, good vibes, and sunflowers, I appreciate and love you all so much!! <3 i'm finally getting around to this one!

i've been ordered by kat to do 5 more so here's my top 10 favorite fics I've written!! These are ALL x reader!

1. Amethyst | Leon Kennedy 2. Unspoken Words | Levi Ackerman - Chapter One: November 3. Sunrise | Levi Ackerman 4. Home | Leon Kennedy 5. For You, I Would | Armin Arlert 6. Can I Go Where You Go? | Levi Ackerman 7. Are You There? | Levi Ackerman 8. Chasing Waterfalls | Toge Inumaki 9. You'll Be Okay | Levi Ackerman 10. What's Mine, Is Yours | Erwin Smith

And here's my answer to tay's ask about my fics!

❥ fic I loved writing the most

this will always be dependent on when you ask me, because right now it will have to be Amethyst. If y'all haven't noticed, my newest love is Leon Kennedy, and writing for him is so much easier than writing for Levi and I think it's because I understand Leon's personality more. He's just so fun to riff off of. Not that Levi wasn't!! He was just harder to put down for me, I guess. ANWAYS. I loved writing for Leon and I'm working on a part two!!

❥ fic others loved that I didn't care for

okay so this might come as a surprise because it's my ultimate comfort fic, but it would have to be Sunrise. tbh, I don't know what loved the most means here but I'll equate it to notes. Sunrise is precious to me because it holds so many of my favorite things. BUT I really feel like I could have done so much better. The plot is there, the scenario and surroundings are perfect. but the WRITING?? I could have done better. don't get me wrong though, I still love it and I am very happy so many people liked it!!

❥ fic I had fun writing

definitely my For You, I Would fic. I don't have very many Armin fics but I enjoyed writing for him a lot because he's just such a shy little bean and so full of wonder and love. I could really see myself wanting to take him out on a date. This was also a request for my friend Tay and it was fun catering her interests within the story and how it works well with Armin!!

❥ fic I'm most proud of

for sure it would have to be Unspoken Words. I'm proud because it was the first time I've written something for myself in a long time. I didn't think I would care as much about fanfic until I fell in love with AoT, now look at me LMAO. UW helped me become a better writer as well as be more confident in areas I thought I lacked. I quite literally used it as a way to be better, and I'll always be proud of it. My first ever full and finished fic, I'll never forget it <3

❥ fic I wish got more recognition

probably Can I Go Where You Go? mainly because I really liked writing the semi plot twist at the end. like if you were caught up with season 4 of AoT, you would know what I was alluding to and it's like a kick in the gut LMAO. but also I thought I did pretty well with the descriptors, not to brag ofc. :3

❥ my happiest/saddest/most comedic fic

I SPENT 30 MINUTES LOOKING FOR THIS. but the saddest will have to be this short drabble about Levi losing you in an expedition and him coming to your old room, reminiscing. I don't know what brought it on but I was like, huh. let's just be SAD.

if you're interested, my fic masterlist can be found here!

finally, thank you so much for the asks @kingkonoha, @youre-ackermine, and @humanitys-strongest-bamf!! I love y'all a lot <3

[sinon36]

Echoes of Salvation: The Deal (Part I). Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x afab reader  (Zombie AU)

Part II

The story starts after the dash.

Warnings: some gore, some mistakes, some bad writing (eh… we all have to start somewhere), not proof read, some independent woman surviving on her own without the need of help from men (cause I like self reliant women and people in general, they are a great inspiration to us all, really).

Disclaimer:

Dear readers,

Please be kind. This is my first fanfiction ever that I wrote and posted, so please be kind and overlook any potential inaccuracies, mistakes, grammatical errors as I’m not a professional writer and also English isn’t my native tongue. Though I have studied British English I am sure I haven’t really managed to accurately portray the British way of speaking, so please, feel free to point out anything that might poke you in the eye while reading this.

Also, I would like to tell you that this fan-fic is the love child of my obsession with our favourite masked man Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, and my love for anything zombie apocalypse or world-ending alternate universe or actual universe. Tbh If I wasn’t a poor student I would probably be a prepper, just like Frank from HBO’s TLoU. Most likely will be. I’m a little weird like that, you’ll see more in the future.

To close this little rant, I hope you’ll enjoy it, even if it’s short, I would really like to continue this if you deem it worth it enough. This will probably be a slow-burn kind of romance: 1. because I’m a sucker for the kind of slow-burn strangers/enemies to lovers fanfics, and 2. because it’s more realistic, let’s calm the whore-y instincts and be reasonable people that don’t climb masked 6-feet-tall strangers like trees.

With everything said I do not own the Call of Duty character Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley (*whispers*Though I wish I did*) BUT I do own this piece of fanfic. Please don’t steal it. Repost it but please do give credit to other people’s work. You may notice some similarities to other fanfics, cause duh, I also read a lot of that, (isn’t that one of the incipient stages to becoming a fanfic writer?), but I would really like to give a shout out to the fanfic author that really inspired me to put fingers to keyboard and a fanfic into Tumblr, please, *drum rolls* a round of applause for @nsharks with her lovely fanfic ‘Bleeding Blue’. She’s really wonderful and you should really check her out.

Have fun reading and don’t forget to leave a comment or a heart. I wouldn’t mind suggestions of what to name Simons’ daughter. That would really make my day 😊

P.S. Sorry to all the fishing loving people out there, what I said was based on my impression of the fishing experience and should be taken with a grain of salt.

            Yours truly <3

Synopsis:

It’s been five years since the outbreak happened. Five years ago, in London, a terrorist group released a virus in the city center. 24 hours later, people start developing flu-like symptoms. 48 hours later the infected turn into mindless ghouls biting healthy people and spreading the infection. Everything happened so fast. The army came in and tried to contain the outbreak but soon chaos engulfed the whole country. You learn that similar attacks happened all over the world: New York, Beijing, Moscow, Athens, and Tokyo. City by city, the whole world is ending.

You survived thanks to your mid-twenties life crisis that made you move into a cottage house by the lake in Lake District. The land you own is surrounded by thick lush forest that offers perfect cover for the tiny brick house that is your safe haven. With a water source close, off-the-grid energy, and a garden full of plants, fruit trees chickens, and whatnot, you live a comfortable life tucked away, far from the dangers of the cities. You are so far out of reach that in the past years you only saw a handful of infected, survivors that traveled far to escape and distant neighbours that got infected in the towns nearby. You can’t remember the last time you saw another person. But you are used to your loneliness. The end of the world brought only a mild inconvenience, now that you can no longer order things online and watch movies on Netflix or HBO. But with a library full of books, a homestead to keep you active and your Border Collie companion, Bellamy, life is good. Life is peaceful.

One day, while you are out fishing, a masked man, armed to the teeth and carrying a young girl in his arms threatens to kill you if you don’t provide him with medicine for his sick daughter.                     

-

The sky is cloudy above but some sunbeams break through to warm the crisp air this fine early spring morning. It’s a good time for fishing now that the water is warmer, they come closer to the bank in search of food. It’s a boring task after you arrange all your tools and launch the line in the water. It’s a game of waiting and watching for any small tugs or movement of the neon-coloured fishing line. You picked up fishing after a couple of months into moving here, when everything was a mess and so many repairs and renovations had to be made around the house. The guy from the tutorials you used to watch on YouTube talked about the calmness and relaxation fishing brought to him. Maybe you weren’t cut out to stand all day on shore and gawk like an idiot for hours at the thin plastic line submerged in the lake water. But you cannot deny the proud feeling catching a fish brought to you when the line finally went taught.

You try and ward off the boredom and instead try to focus on the warmth that spring brings after months of endless cold. The birds are singing in trees, preparing nests for future offspring, and the lake is calm, with bubbles on the surface indicating the abundance of fish. Life is good. Bellamy enjoys sunbathing next to you rolling in a patch of grass. Everything is peaceful. Nothing really happens here anyway. You close your eyes basking in the good feeling that overtakes you.

A branch snapping behind you wakes you from the meditation you have fallen into. You raise and turn from where you are crouched over your equipment. You come face to face with a strange figure.         

‘Show me yer hands’ he tells you in a thick British accent, eyes focused on you and handgun aimed at your chest. He wears all black and a haunting white skull mask. He is tall, at least 6 feet tall, body poised to kill. In his other arm, you can see a little girl hugging his neck.

You slowly raise your hands. At your foot, Bellamy growls baring her teeth at the stranger sensing danger. You shush her grabbing her by the caller to keep her from attacking the armed man. You stand still watching in apprehension as the man studies you. You look at the ground where you left your backpack and your hatchet.

‘Don’t even think about it’ comes the gruff order. You nod trying to convey that you understand the situation. ‘There’s nothing in that bag worth a bullet’ you tell him in an even tone despite fear creeping down your spine. He hums in agreement. ‘And if you wanted to kill me you would’ve done it by now.’ He watches you like a hawk its prey. ‘So…’ you pause carefully measuring your words, ‘what it is that you want from me?’ he gestures you to take a few steps back and you drag Bellamy by her collar.

He kicks at the backpack spilling the contents. A bottle of water and a half-eaten sandwich, a hunting knife, and a rectangular box in which you keep the hooks, lures, fishing lines, and other small fishing equipment. He turns his gaze back at you and nods toward your dog. ‘Put a muzzle on it or I’ll shoot it’. your blood runs cold at the thought of losing your sole companion. You scramble to untie the scarf you keep tied around your wrist that you use to wipe away sweat from your forehead. You wrap the piece of cloth around the dog’s snout tight enough to not slip away. Next, the dark-clad man tells you to pack your fishing gear and collect your backpack, with one hand keeping it outstretched to the side and the other one grabbing at Bellamy’s collar guiding her forward. ‘Move. Eyes forward. Any sudden moves and I drop you.’

He walks a couple paces behind you. For how big he is you can barely hear him walk on the path. You can feel his gaze burning in the back of your head and the gun pointed at your back. As you start down the path you can make out the roof of your small house. Once you get at the gate you stop. ‘open it’ he instructs. ‘The key is in my right pocket’ you say slowly gesturing to said pocket. ‘Mhm,’ you hear him grunt. You slowly release Bellamy and fish for the key in your jacket’s pocket. You slowly take it out and put it in the keyhole turning it and opening the gate.

The familiar sight of your front garden does nothing to appease you in this situation. Bushes full of colourful flowers hug the narrow path toward the house. The wind catcher hung above your porch clinks melodically as a gust of warm wind catches on it. you take a few more steps on the stone path before you and you hear the gate closing behind you. What once was your safe space now traps you in with a stranger ready to shoot you or worse.

‘Tie the dog to that pole’ he orders you again. On your right, there is a small pole stuck in the ground. He throws a roll of paracord next to you. You don’t move at first. You had never tied Bellamy down before. You can’t even remember when you last put a leash on her. She likes to roam free and run around. The click of the gun behind you tells you that you have no choice. You drop the backpack and start to drag her to the pole. She tries to resist but you shush her and urge her to move. Once you finish tying her you turn towards the stranger. He nods towards the house and you start walking hands raised on either side of your head. Once you open the door he urges you inside.

‘Where do you keep the medicine?’ he grumbles urgently. ’Bathroom.’ you nod to the right of your living room. ‘Go get it!’ you don’t wait around you spring toward the white door. After a couple of minutes grabbing most of what you keep in the over-sink cabinet you emerge hands filled with gauze of all sizes and different bottled pills. You return to find the man placing the girl on the couch. She appears to be asleep. You almost forgot about her. She looks about 8-years-old. Brown hair is chopped short in a pixie cut. She’s wearing blue-washed jeans and a dark green hoodie that’s too big on her.

You watch as he peels the hoodie from her limp body. Underneath she wears a striped t-shirt, but what catches your attention is her left upper arm. Red stained gauze is wrapped around. You are still in your approach keeping a safe distance. ‘Was she bit?’ the words rush out in apprehension. From where he kneels next to her his eyes snap at you. ‘No’ he denies the implication of your words. ‘Put that on the table and go sit by the door’ You do as you're told eyes darting between the girl and the man. You drop everything on the coffee table and go sit by the entrance door hugging your knees. You watch as he works on bandaging the kid. Your eyes are glued to the girl’s arm.

Even though you lived so far out into the wilderness you saw pictures on the internet of bites from the infected. You read the posts of the survivors and heard the news broadcast on all channels. Then everything went quiet. The cable didn’t work and your phone had no signal. You knew shit hit the fan and that it was serious. Then, a few weeks later you saw your closest neighbour, Neil, an elderly farmer who lived about half a mile further up the river’s bank, growling and stumbling trying to catch Bellamy who was running scared towards you. You tried to talk him out of the trance-like state but to no avail. He kept stalking towards you, ready to take a bite out of you. You tried to tell him to keep his distance and warned him that you would protect yourself. The rest was a blur. You faintly remember grabbing the hatchet that you used to cut down logs for your stove. And then the struggle with the man, Bellamy barking, you crying out pleas for him to stop. In the cacophony of noises, you hit him with the blade right in the neck. The next thing you knew, your neighbour lay in a pool of dark blood hatchet still. It took you a while to register what you have done. You just killed a man. You couldn’t forget the way he lay there, on the gravel, hands stretched outwards bloodshot eyes staring emptily at the sky. That was the first time you encountered an infected. You distinctly remember the fear and adrenaline that took hold of you. The feelings that gripped your heart so tight and that made you take a life take over you as you watch the little girl, possibly infected, unconscious but on her way to the same madness that turned Neil into a savage monster all those years ago.                                                 

'She's feverish. You got meds or something to bring the fever down?' his question brings down from your rising panic at the thought of being stuck inside with a possible infected. ‘There should be some anti-inflammatory pills and some antibiotics. They are out of date but they could still work.' He grabs hold of the med kit you brought. He sorts through the drugs checking the expiration dates. When he comes across the antibiotics, he studies the pack carefully, his eyes darting back and forth from the label to the girl. 'How much can I give her?' he asks with a hint of concern his stern facade crumbling slightly.

You look at him unsure what to say. Those pills have been bought before the start of the outbreak. You doubt expired drugs have any effect anymore. You refrain from saying that though. He is stressed, he might take his anger on you. ‘She’s a kid, you mumble, so, about half of each.’ He carefully considers his next action. ‘She’ll need water to take them, you add from down the floor. And some food…’ He nods in understanding. ‘May I?’ you don’t know why you offer this stranger help. First, he disturbs you from catching dinner, next, he threatens to kill you and your dog, now he takes over your house and medicine. But you can recognize the desperation in his look, the way he fumbles with the packaging. He is a parent trying to save his kid. Even though you don’t have any of your own you recognize the parental instincts, the same ones you exert on Bellamy.

He looks at you unsure of what to do. He surrenders in defeat and nods at you to go on. You rise to your full height, which doesn’t add up to much compared to him. You walk past them all the way to the back of the living room where you disappear behind a white door. After a couple minutes, you reemerge from the kitchen with a glass of water in one hand and a bowl of steaming vegetable soup you made this morning. You slowly approach the couch watching him for any sign that you might cross a line. Instead of any aggression he takes a step back and allows you to go closer to the girl. You place the bowl and the glass on the coffee table and kneel next to the couch.

The girl opens her eyes and looks at you with distrust. Like father like daughter… you think to yourself. But you try to smile at her try to reassure her. ‘I brought you some soup, love’ you say in your most sincere and kind voice. ‘You must eat a little and then take some pills that will make you feel better’. You try to persuade her. She stares at you for a minute then at the man. They are suspicious of you and they have all the reason to be. You are a stranger to them as much as they are to you. Funny you are in the position to try and win their trust in your own home. You take the spoon you brought for her and dip it in the bowl. You take a spoonful and hover it close to your face blowing a little over it and then you swallow it. You can’t help the little moan of appreciation for your own cooking skills. ‘See? It’s good.’ You look at her with a small smile.

You don’t know where this came from; you blame it on the 6-foot-tall armored stranger whose stare drives daggers at the back of your head and your desire to keep your head on your shoulders and all your blood in your body. You don’t outright hate kids but you were never good around them. With a sigh, she sits upright and takes the spoon from you. She eats slowly. You keep watching her. She is a pretty kid. She has blue eyes and freckles on her small button nose. You wonder if she looks anything like the man behind you. She is pale and sweat collects on her little forehead most likely from her fever. She eats half of the soup you brought her and then turns her gaze towards the man. He hands her the two halves of the pills. She takes them in her small hand and grabs the glass. She hesitates. ‘It’s okay’ you reassure her and with a nod, she puts the half tablets on her tongue following up with large gulps from the glass. She scrunches her little nose in disgust at the chalky taste. ‘Atta girl’ you hear him utter from behind you. ‘Now lay down and rest.' he says to the girl in a stern yet gentle voice. He watches her nod and lie back on the couch her eyes half-lidded. He sighs, 'Good for now. ' he mutters under his breath. His eyes are fixed on her as he gestures to you. 'Come with me.' You rise from the floor and follow him outside the front door.

He leads you outside. When you cross the threshold, he takes a deep breath and a look of relief washes over his stern features. He gestures for you to sit on the front porch with him. 'We need to talk...' 'Yeah' you say crossing your arms defensively over your chest and standing as far away as the length of your porch allows. you take a moment to study him as he fixes you with a cold stare. You notice the many pockets on his vest and belt. A patch on his chest reads S.A.S. He's ex-military, you muse. His uniform makes much more sense now. But the mask still unnerves you.

He leans against one of the wooden porch support beams right hand hovering on the pistol holster. You think it's an act to intimidate you, to remind you that he is still armed and ready to strike you down in your own home.  You stare at him a little defiantly. You’ll be damned before you let this weirdo intimidate you on your turf. He studies you from head to boots and back up. You sigh and square your shoulders showing him you are not afraid of him. ‘I’ve been watching you.’ He tells you in a matter-of-fact tone. You try to suppress the surprise on your face. You look down at his boots avoiding his icy gaze.

He’s been stalking you, and the realization dawns on you. You didn’t even notice his presence around the house. Stupid, you think to yourself, I’m growing complacent. But not even Bellamy caught his smell and she usually barks when someone or something comes close to the house. But earlier at the lake, he took you both by surprise. He’s good at keeping his presence concealed, you have to give it to him. You nod to yourself in understanding. He probably knows the layout of your house by now, he knows you are alone, and he waited for you to be outside and ambush you. You start imagining all the horrible things he could have done to you. But no, he instead approached you, gun pointed at you, nevertheless, when he could have already killed you and taken over your house by now. You hum and make eye contact with him.

‘Why keep me alive then?’ you ask him without beating around the bush. You study his mannerisms trying to catch something, anything to prove you he’s human. But he’s as unreadable as a statue. His gaze remains fixed on you, unblinking and stoic. You feel him studying you, taking in every detail of your person. He seems intent on reading into your every move.

In an even tone, he answers, 'Because you’re not a threat.’ His response catches you off guard, ego a little bruised at that, but you can’t argue with his logic. If he wanted to, he could have killed you by now, that’s for sure. You remain silent for a moment, processing his response. ‘But that doesn’t mean I trust you.’ He adds kicking off the beam and taking a step closer to you. He looks down at you tilting his head a little like a bird of prey watching a mouse, waiting for it to give chase and make the hunt more fun. You don’t give in to the urge to run inside and hide in your bedroom. Instead, you take a step towards him and look up at him ‘Because you need me’ you speak quietly. You can imagine a raised brow under that mask. You smile in triumph; even though he acts tough he needs help and all the intimidating façade was in a desperate attempt to get it.

‘I get it’ you continue having him figured out. ‘Your kid is sick and out there dangers are lurking at every turn. You need a place to stay until she gets better.’ You finish voicing your theory on why he’s really here having this conversation with you. His eyes closed in defeat. Gotcha, you smile even more widely at your deduction. ‘You can stay, you say as you turn and walk down the three steps of your porch heading towards the gate. ‘On one condition, you add stopping in your track. You turn fully towards him and he watches you curiously as if you’d have any power to demand him anything. ‘No harm comes to me or my dog’ you say remembering his earlier threats of him offing you both. ‘Do we have a deal?’ it’s not unreasonable, though it irks you that you have to bargain for your safety with a stranger. ‘Deal.’ He says in his usual gruff voice nodding to you in sign of respect for your demand.

‘Good’ you say as you stalk off towards where Bellamy lays muzzled and tied like a prisoner of war. You free her and she jumps at you happy to be in your proximity. She must have been worried sick here all alone. Poor thing. You then go to the gate and slide the too-large bolts meant to keep any unwanted guests outside. Or inside in your case. ‘And to think nothing interesting ever happens around her, right, Bell?’ your rhetorical question is met with a bark of agreement.

[olderthannetfic]

I’d like to appeal to the advice of your followers with a question concerning the degree of realism of sex in smutty fanfic. Two questions really. I know fanfic is not reality- but if (almost) all authors describe certain things in a specific way, I start to wonder if I missed something. And since I write a bit myself, I’d like to get things right.

The first is about bruising. A tight grip on arms or hips is apparently enough to cause bruises. I have participated in enthusiastic and even rough sex and never, ever got bruised. So I decided to test it out with my husband and asked him to try and bruise my arm by gripping it. Even a very tight grip caused no bruises. I only got (mildly) bruised after asking him to apply full force, which took him some effort and was seriously painful. It really hurt and not in the sexy way. Now maybe I bruise less easy than most but encounters with table corners etcetera say otherwise. So am I missing something here, or did smut writers collectively decide that bruising is sexy and therefore bruises are easily caused by a tight grip?

The other thing is about soreness. In all or most fics, not only fanfic but also conventional straight romance novels, passionate sex means the receiving party will be sore enough to be limping the day after or even have trouble sitting down. In my personal experience, very rough, slam-in-as-hard-as-you-can fucking both vaginal and anal does not result in any observable soreness afterwards while walking or sitting. The insides may get chafed, yes, rubbed raw even, depending on the use of lube, and that will be supremely noticeable during consequent bathroom visits or the next fuck session if it follows soon after the first, but that’s it. The only soreness I ever had was muscle soreness in my thighs or other limbs if the position took some physical effort to maintain. But internal soreness, never. So again, did writers collectively decide soreness is sexy, or what’s happening?

--

I'm pretty sure they're both just Law of Horny.

Yes, probably some people do bruise more easily than you, but the way this is described in fic is as though those hands had finger paint on them. We're talking full on hand prints after a few minutes of slightly hard gripping. Nobody bruises like that unless they have a medical problem where they should be a lot more careful during sex. Haha.

TBH, the kinds of characters who end up with hip bruises are usually also the ones who have milky white/jade/etc. skin the narrative obsesses over. It's the same ones whose necks get marked up and obsessed over. It's one of those 'you're too pristine, so I'm going to come all over your face' kinks.

As for soreness... I think "sore" vs. "chafed" is just word choice. Authors may not mean muscle soreness. I've definitely managed to make the chafed feeling last for a while by using absurdly large dildos, and everybody in porn has a massive pornstar dick...

That said, while I've certainly had that sensation where something feels different the next day such that you notice it while walking around, not just in the bathroom, it's not your glutes. It's not usually deep inside either. It's more just the opening, where all the nerves are. The way people describe sitting gingerly is silly: Sure, you might be hyperaware while changing position because that area stretches a little, but it's described like the aftermath of flogging.

I think this is just the "Dick so big it rearranged your guts" style of smut writing where the body is ~forever changed~ by this particular sex even though people are made of a bunch of stretchy muscles that are going to go right back to what they were doing before. I mean, I guess you could forever fuck up the cartilage in your knee while doing something stupidly athletic, but that's not hot.

Do I believe somebody identifies with these porn tropes? Sure. Bodies vary. But there's definitely a canned porn version everybody uses, and I doubt it's because they're drawing from personal experience.

[porcelain-thyme]

The Herbalist (Tree Sentinel x fem!OC) - Chapter One

(I put it as OC but tbh it could be a reader insert since I leave the character description light and also she just goes by one name Morte)

My first ever fanfic lol, I saw someone on here lament the fact that there was no Tree Sentinel fanfic and I agree, so I decided to write one lol, this is the first chapter and I will probs be updating every week or so lol. I might write for other characters too. Added a read more so it didn't take up the entire feed cause its long lol

You heaved against the solid wood, the crisp morning mist embraced you. Limegrave's fair beauty, covered with a veil of golden rays, held you still as your eyes scanned the vast field of grass waltzing with wisps of wind. The hushing of the trees lulled the falling Erd leaves to the ground as you hesitantly stepped away from the door.

In the distance you could hear the songs of birds echo and the salty waves crash against fine sand. 

‘It feels too good to be true compared to what they prepared me for.’ you thought.

Scanning your surroundings you noticed the cute little critters hopping around and on the edges of rocks perched some proud birds, both animals you had never seen before. Your own town was too dimmed in an everlasting mist for anything cute to survive, like the gloom sucked out all the fun of living. The shadow of the ruined building covered the left. Bushes and trees scattered around. Beside you, a few steps away, a flower glowing softly stood, swaying in the sea breeze which hit your sinuses, dry and pungent with salt. You crouched down, putting your weight on the balls of your feet. You were enraptured by its beauty,  your gloved hand reaching out to caress the delicate petals. This wasn't enough, so you peel the fabric from your hand to freely examine it. 

It's soft and full of life, nothing like the plants you have back at home, where the endless dull skies leaves the ground barren of flowers. But here is different, you have never felt such a lively and soft material, the small  indents of the veins running the white velvet flesh leaves you giddy with wonder.

Your  head swivelled for more wonderment, finally landing on a group of vermillion star-petalled flowers. You rushed over, breathless with awe, the joy vibrating in your chest, as you once again examined a new specimen.

“I was waiting for you to approach me. Seems like you didn't  even notice, strange considering I'm the only other person here.” A voice from behind you greeted, full of mirth and sass.

You startled so much that as the breath finishes its course out your mouth, you already had your sword ready.

“I would suggest against striking me, Tarnished. It will certainly not end well for you.” His voice lilted with a slightly gravelled tone.

You turned red and heated with embarrassment, this was not how you wanted to greet what you presume to be a fellow human.

“My apologies, Sir. You startled me.”

He huffed lightly, though you couldn't see his face you could see his chest rise and fall. Which relieved you. At least you were not completely alone.

‘You seem to take a while to think, Tarnished. Should I take a seat and wait.”

You eyed this stranger with suspicion, as he took  a seat on the soft grass. There was no harm in keeping your guard up around here.

“Might I ask who you are, Sir?”

“I will once you put down that sword. I have no intention of harming you. In fact, I am here to guide you.” You saw the crinkles around his eyes as he smiled. He sat there, leisurely with no care in the world. You decided to heed his request, awkward and overwhelmed by everything.

“You certainly look different from the other Tarnished that come here. Have you any training at all?” He was looking  at you with  what seemed to be concern, like he can see right through the bulky armour and linen cloth.

“I have been trained, thank you very much. What’s more of a concern right now is that fact that you still haven't answered my question.”

He huffed out another chuckle. The sun had now warmed your skin in comfort at this point, as it climbed to midday.

“Varre. My name is Varre and I'm your one shining hope in this land, despite the fact that you are maidenless.”

‘Maidenless?”

His head tilted towards the Erd tree, eyes distant as if this was nothing new.

“Yes, well, you need a  maiden to help you on your journey. A patroness of sorts.”

Your head whirled in confusion as you sifted through your memories. You had heard nothing of maidens from the high priests who taught you.

“You're thinking again, Tarnished. It seems to be a bad habit.” There he goes again. Like the  matter was some joke, like you were a joke.

“I have a name too, Varre.” You were sharp with your retort.

“Oh, yes? And what would that be?” He seemed to have been mocking you still.

“Morte.”

“Morte. Seems fitting considering your chosen vocation.” Hazel eyes piercing right through  your armour.

“I… I didn't choose this path. It was chosen for me.” You said heavily, eyes downturned in shame with your  heart layed on top of your guts.

“Oh? And here I  thought all Tarnished  were here for their own selfish reasons.” He seemed surprised.

The sun was past its throne, starting its journey back to his chamber. Like he could feel the ensuing uncomfortable talk.

“The High Priest from my town said it has been my duty since birth to find the Elden Ring. I never wanted this life and frankly I'm too physically weak to even fight a wolf off. But they seemed to have insisted that since it is my duty, that I will find a way.”

He was silent, listening intently with the still physique of a statue.

“If I am to be completely honest, after hearing that I am not the first nor the last I feel as though this path is moot to me now. Surely, there are people more fit  for the task than I.”

He seemed to be in thought for a while, like the cogs in his head were turning.

“It seems that I am not the only one who’s a slow thinker.” 

He let out a small chuckle, mercifully moving his gaze to the ground.

“This situation does seem to need more thought than I expected.” He has straightened his posture, his legs crossed.

“Aha!  Now you know how I feel.”

Things go quiet after that. It wasn't awkward silence but more of a perplexing one.  Around us the world kept its cycle. The moon had started to tuck the sun into bed with blankets of dusk clouds. The shadows were more prominent as they covered the rolling fields and in the distance ruins glowed with slight warmth  from what seemed to be a fire. Still even with the golden veil gone the land before you held its beauty with pride.

“You know… all throughout my life people have directed me, never left me alone. Now that I'm here, I feel lost, even though they gave me instructions. I need to find the Elden Ring, but I just want to explore this place now. It's not like they can find out what I'm doing, but I still fear that they will.”

He was back to staring at you now. our legs were crossed and hands held your head, like a saddened child.

Suddenly he got up, stretched his popping spine and then let out a groaning exhale.

“Follow me. I might know a way to help.”

He's  held out his hand now, keeping a respectful distance as you use his arm to pull yourself up. His hand was warm and his grip firm compared to yours.

The back of your legs slowly forced themselves to straighten after lack of use while you stretched your arms out above your head in a Y shape. Bones and muscles expanded and settled back with a similar exhale. 

He turned around and headed down the slight hill, his footsteps were heavy and his clothing swayed slightly with his confident movements. You followed behind, timid and on edge. Following a stranger could be very detrimental, but that was your best option so far. The further you walked down the more you could see the fields, to the left were ruins of what seemed to be a rounded coliseum. 

To the centre was a path that led to the lit church, which seemed to be guarded by a large armoured man on an even larger horse. You were surprised that you did not hear the thudding hoofs of this majestic beast nor the scrape of metal against metal. 

“It's best to keep your distance from the Tree Sentinels, let them do their jobs and they will let you do yours.” His voice level as though this sight is normal in these parts, and for all you knew, it was.

You continued down the hill to a glowing pile. Wisps of gold gilded around it like a campfire, as you stand next to it. It’s pretty and it illuminated the surrounding environment  and you had this pull to touch it and to know if this light is warm and if it felt like the wind softly caressing your hair.

“Go ahead. Raise your hand towards it and let's see what it does.”

“What happens when I do?”

“It's a site of grace, it will; be able to tell you where you need to go. For most of you Tarnished, if not all that I've met so far, it leads you to Stormviele castle.” He had this tone of excitement, like a child anticipating a treat.

“It won't hurt me, will it?”

“Not in the slightest, Morte. If anything it will feel pleasant.”

So you heeded his wishes and crouched down. This must have been the magic that the high priest talked about. It held warmth to it and in the centre, levitating, was a tear shaped orb. You reached your hand out towards it, not knowing what exactly you were doing. The warmth from the grace site passed through the material of the glove with ease to finally touch your skin. It was like you could feel every particle of grace fit into the imprint of your skin, like gold filling cracks of pottery.

Like wading your hand in a pool of water, you could feel the movement of the grace as your hand shook still.  It was textured like fine sand, almost powdery but the coarseness still gritted slightly against the fingerprints and dried valleys of your hand. 

You focused on the feeling and all of a sudden you felt something shift, like movement in water. Opening your eyes you look over to see Varre staring at you intently.

“It does feel pleasant.” You were breathless, the awe of the situation holting your mind.

He still didn’t answer, but he leaned close to the site, like he was looking for something. Through the grains of grace you felt something, like uneasiness embodied. It felt like the grace of wavering slightly, like his pulsing heart's increased rate was felt by it. You felt nervous now, something was wrong. You realised that he said this would help guide you but you can’t feel nor see anything to suggest a path. If anything it just swirled like usual, only glowing brighter with you connected to it. It felt homely and warm, it was a comfort you never wanted to let go of.

He finally spoke, though there was hesitance and confusion tinting his usual teasing tone.

“I haven’t seen something like this before. How do you feel?”

He was looking at you now. His eyes were intimidating even with the concern behind them. You felt like he should have the answer to this, but seeing someone who has supposedly been doing this for quite a long time look at you like a lost pup had you in a bit of panic. The thumps of muscle against your sternum became more noticeable by the second. You look down at your hand then back up at Varre, then repeat swiftly while you conjure up your answer.

“Great? I’m not in any pain. Isn’t this supposed to happen?” Laced through your answer was confusion and a drop of fear.

“Move aside for a bit, dear.” you were taken aback by the pet name but still did so.

He degloved himself and moved his hand towards the grace. It did exactly what it did to you, only next came a glowing string that danced towards you with, well, grace. It circled around you and when you lifted your hand toward it you could still feel the grains of grace against your skin.

“You're supposed to see something like this, the grace is supposed to guide you on your path. This is different, it was static like you have no path to take.”

You froze when he said this. Though the thread of grace still warmed you, the shivers of anxiety began to wracked your body. This could not be happening, you need guidance. You’ve needed it ever since you were born and now you're being told that there was no guidance left for you. As though it was possible to run out, you used it all up during childhood and now your bank was drained. You took a tiny step back, tears birthing from your wide eyes as you start to feel the air crawl from your lungs.

“No… that can’t be.” 

It came out as a pathetic whimper and the sobbing began. Your frame was shuddering, bones and flesh unsynced as you panicked right in front of a stranger. You felt the grace leave as he got up to move towards you. The hand that was once outstretched towards grace was now stretching towards you.

“Don’t panic, we will sort this out. There is certainly a reason for this, grace sites can not make mistakes.”

He closed the distance with his hand moulding to your shoulder, he had bent slightly to try and catch your pathetic eyes. You were in hysterics, the very reason for your existence was denied from you. How could you ever face your town now? You were to be the high priestess once you acquired the ring and now you will be nothing more than a pariah. You did not know what to do with yourself, you felt drenched in cold water, hands stretched out to your sides slightly, you shook from the very core of your being. Your muscles had already become stiff and crowded, the clothes and armour you wore felt constricted, the very hemming of your collar felt like it was strangling you.

“You still have grace, dear. It just seems to be wanting you to do something different with yourself. It’s telling you that your destiny is not the Elden Ring. Shouldn’t this be good news to you considering your hesitance?”

He was logical, and finding the Elden Ring certainly wasn’t something you wanted.

“But I need to do it. My very existence was created on that fact.”

You were still shaking, but the embers of anguish and wrath had started to glow. It felt unjust to you, that this would happen so late in your journey. All that training since birth, gone to waste.

“Oh Lambkin, It will be okay. Why don’t we talk to a friend? They might know something of this.”

“But I have none.”

“Ah, but I do. Come now, it’s only a short distance. Just down to the church of Elleh.”

You could tell he was panicking slightly, but he tried to keep it in for your comfort. You were a spirit in limbo, all directions felt too far for you, but you still crawled your way out of that burrow of self-pity to take the hand of Varre.

You both trudged down the hill towards the glowing church, the closer you got the more you saw the ruins it was in and the site of grace. But that was not the only thing illuminating it. The warm glow of fire encompassed the back wall of the ruin dancing ever so slightly. It was easy to see in the darkness of the night. Looking up you realised that this is the first time you’ve seen stars. The fog surrounding your home town only allowed for the moon to shine through, but tonight you realised that there was more than just the moon up there. It was close to distracting you from the contortions of your heart and the headache that throbbed at your crown.

You glanced over at the Sentinel making his rounds, you were walking closer to him. This prickled your skin especially with his foreboding helmet of gold following you as you went past. The horse he sat upon was well behaved and only flicked its head slightly to shake away a glowing bug that landed on its nose. You looked around the land, to find specks of glowing bugs everywhere and the soft caress of the moon shining on every surface. The air was chilled, but that was comforting against the heat of your distress. The air filled your lungs with renewal, it woke your mind up from the maorose sea of sludged guilt and bleakness. 

Even with the current circumstances, you had not felt this alive in a while. In fact you never had felt so much in your lifetime. It was like something inside of you was awoken in this land. Like it was breathing with you, and moved with you. You were like a stormy planet, violent swirls of rain and rocks moving across your surface while your core stayed unchanging.

You were now just hiccupping and the cold air of the night had dried your tears for you. The soft cling of grass grounded you and the warm grip of Varre led you to the entrance of the ruins.

Inside was a grace site in the centre and to the very back right corner camped a man and a mule. He stared at you two as you made your way over, timidly you hid behind Varre.

Once you reached the grace site, Varre told you to wait there and play around with it. He continued on to greet the stranger, standing together and talking in hushed whispers.

You crouched down to take off your glove only to realise you left it behind. It stung your heart a bit to have done so but you continued on and reached towards the illuminated wisp. Once again connecting to the pool of grained grace, you felt calmed and comforted. It was like it felt your sorrows and held you close. You tried something different this time, you tried to empty your mind, like the monks back in your hometown. It was hard to untangle your mind from the self-pity and thorns of wrath that caught you, but once you had somewhat cleared your mind it happened.

You felt the pool increase around you, you could feel the boundaries of the walls and the movements of all the livin things around you. In the distance the rocking of the large horse caught your attention, then the slight movements of Varre and the stranger in the corner. You could feel one of the hopping creatures stir in its sleep in the burrow by the ruin. The grass danced in waves and the cool air complimented the warmth of grace. Everything felt alright.

You then felt Varre and the stranger walk towards you, you focused on that movement of grace. It was like you could feel their curiosity, the tilt of their heads and the glances between them.

“I have not seen this before.” It came from the stranger. Just a quiet whisper but it was like the grains were moving his voice closer to you. You opened your eyes to see them just a few feet away staring at the glowing of your arm.

Your arm should not be glowing like that, like the very flesh and bone had been replaced by the ethereal. Disconnecting from the grace site did not stop it either, for it kept glowing slightly, whorls of grace making up your skin and pure gold your bones. The sensations were still there as you tried wiping it off with the linen cloth of your skirt, but nothing came off except for the ever-present glow.

Varre moved closer towards you, you could feel his movements and went to examine your arm. The stranger stood close to him. Varre turned your arm this way and that, he then gave you a pinch.

“How did that feel?”

“Fine, I guess. It didn’t hurt, if that was what you meant.”

“I pinched your arm pretty hard.”

“I felt the force, just not the pain.”

“Hmmm…”

He seemed deep in thought as the stranger went up to have a look. He was gaunt and covered half his face with a cloth. His clothing was strange, red with tufts of white fluff around the borders. His skin was ashen grey dry from the sun, joints and ligaments showing through as he moved his hands.

“This is Kale, he’s a merchant that wonders these parts. I thought that he might have some information to help us, but it seems as though I was wrong.”

“You are certainly a peculiar Tarnished.” His voice was soft and pleasant.

“Her name is Morte. She doesn’t like being called Tarnished, and at this point I don’t think she is.”

“You’re right, Tarnished aren’t usually blessed with powers like this. I heard whispers that near the Erd tree there used to be maidens with similar powers. They would dance around at night and by day they care for the surroundings of the tree.”

“But she’s not from here, so how could she have acquired something like this.”

Kale took a while to think.

“I don’t know, maybe that’s her path.”

“If it was then she would have been led to the Erd tree by a path. It just keeps her there at the sites.”

“Maybe that is the path? Maybe her’s is the land she’s on.”

You were standing there, letting them discuss amongst themselves while you examined your arm. You felt more assured now that you have two people trying to aid you, but at this point you just wanted to focus on something more elating than the point of your existence. So you started to rock side-to-side as you thought of the Erd tree maidens. Their life seemed so joyful and simple, much more simple than finding the Elden Ring. You started to wish that you were born an Erd tree maiden instead of some small girl from a fogged land. To be with sisters with the same goal, dancing around with fits of laughter and murph while by day you took care of the grounds of your home in contemplation and ease.

“Can we continue this some other time? I feel tired.” Your voice was small but they still heard your plea.

“Certainly, Lambkin. Let’s get you some rest.” His voice was soft and warm and you realised that you can still feel everything in grace. It was pleasant.

They wanted to set you up by the fire where you could be kept warm, but you insisted on staying by the grace site to play around with it more. So there you were, sitting cross-legged with your grace arm outstretched. Focused once again. You can feel the familiarity of Varre and Kale’s conversion as they sat by the fire, the very shifting of their bodies could be detected through the grace. You could perceive everything but it was not overwhelming, nor was it confusing. You just could and it felt right.

Just maybe you could exist like this, instead of a high priestess with the Elden Ring. After-all, power never excited you.

You lay down, curled on your side by the site. Eyes fixed on its glow as you felt true peace. The anguish was replaced with assurance and you were fortified with the knowledge that there were people similar to you. Your face relaxed and so did your body as you reached your hand towards the site, playing around with the wisps of grace as you dozed off. Turning your head towards the sky, the stars held your eyes in their celestial hands as the Earth cradled your drifting form.

…

You woke from your slumber with the tickle of dew covered grass and the light of the waking sun. You still faced the sky and clouds clothed in dawn greet you with a good morning. The birds were chirping and through the tree the wind rushed. The crackling of the fire behind you told you that last night was real. Usually the morning after you cried there would come a headache, but you felt the opposite this time. You felt like you were made anew. Stretching as you sat up, you let out a sigh and looked around. The ruins were just as beautiful in the light. Reaching your new hand to the site you connected with it once again, it felt comforting to do so. You felt the land around you move as you breathed in and out, it felt nice just being able to exist for once. Even though you panicked last night about the lack of a path, you felt better  now and more assured. 

Varre and Kale were snoozing by the fire, you could sense their chests rising and falling. The mule was laying there with his head on Kale’s lap, ear flicking every once and a while. The morning air was fresh and the sunrise warmed your back. You were now under his veil too.

You decided to get up to look around by yourself. You made your way out of the church, running your new hand along the cool stone. Grass covered the ground in clumps that had you walking carefully, the sun had fully emerged from the horizon, its golden rays glittered in the dew drops covering everything. It looked like everything was covered in grace. The sky was clear with fluffy clouds sparse in its field, coloured in pastels that you had never seen before.

There was a rising deep inside of you, as though a metamorphosis ws taking place. The muscles of your heart snuggled together. Your whole body felt the exhilaration of finally understanding what a new day was.

You started to giggle, legs giddy as you pranced around. You grabbed your skirt in your hands and began to sway. Slightly to your right lay the colosseum ruins and before you was the ruins you came from. The wind twirled the locks of your hair between their fingers as you floated around Limgrave.

You felt like you belonged with the roots of the trees and the dancing grass, it felt like you were home.

You pranced around a bit more when you felt a presence behind you, one that was very familiar. Stiffening up you slowly turned around to face the Sentinel. He was even more intimidating up close. He towered over you, armour glistening in the morning sun. His horse was by his side and let out a huff of curiosity, staring and your small form. You did not move a muscle, as if he would not perceive you. It was sickening, the fear you felt, the way your gut contorted and your heart pressed itself against your spine. The horse stretched its head towards you, snuffling the air for your scent. It was gentle as its nose grazed your arms with huffs of air. 

Your eyes were tearing up, you could not die this early. The Sentinel had not moved, but you knew he was staring right at you while his horse investigated. Finally he huffs and a fog of air escapes his helmet. Tugging the lead of his horse, he moved past you. You fell to the ground with relief, the Sentinel seemed to have not been interested in you, a small victory for the morning.

[arwainian]

The F@tT Fic Marathon: Catching up finally.

🎉I have officially read the full Friends at the Table AO3 tag!🎉

My very silly quest has reached its technical end point after EXACTLY 10 months of intensive reading! It has been sometimes grueling, often delightful, and led to me developing intense opinions in directions i never thought possible to myself. But I have done it, and I am extremely pleased with myself.

To get some housekeeping out the way, I usually give recs upon a writeup, but since there were only three fics left for me to read i'm just gonna shout them out generally.

Fics 1981-1983

check out i'm too scared to say half of the things i do (when i picture you) by waltztangocache for partizan era Kal'mera Broun fantasizing about Valence and trying to keep from letting that slip through their telepathic bond

and if you like Christmas fic, fangirl_squee has got you covered with Fero "not liking Christmas" but being roped into it anyway, and the Bluff City Masks crew hunting down some Christmas mini-miracles

and like, if you're looking for something to read, remember every single writeup has come with at least one personal recommendation. it's all under the tag #fatt fic marathon (also a caveat that these recommendations come from my personal tastes, i might not have mentioned a fic during the marathon that's a favorite of yours and i hope you continue to deeply enjoy what you love even when it might not have hit where I would have liked)

if you would like to take a look at the massive spreadsheet I used to keep track of which fics I was set to read together, as well as other info like what season it was for, and word count, here is a link to it!

What next?

First of all, I'm gonna spend a good long time reading other things. I've accumulated a great big To-Be-Read pile of pleasure reading consisting of both real-ass books and other fanfic that have been put at a lower priority while I powered through this project. I have had fun, but it is high time for a Break to read and do other stuff for a bit. (*glances nervously at my unstarted secsam project*)

If you happen to like my thoughts about what I'm reading, this past year I tried to keep track with reading log posts. They got stripped down to the basics over the course of the year and Finals Season sorta took it out of me so there's nothing for the past couple weeks BUT. i like reading a lot and i like talking about it a lot. so that's all tagged as #cal reading log if you want to keep up with me and my reading

and, what shall happen to these writeups! I'm not interested in continuing these in perpetuity, but I may give a final send off one when the tag hits 2000 (i'm still deciding). otherwise, this is likely the end of them. I might still shout out inidivudual cool fics that get published as I read them, but that's just like, good fandom practice to spread around cool fanworks tbh, rather than this weird thing I've done. nonetheless, i hope y'all had fun watching this journey

and a final thank you to all of the lovely authors who have made fanfic writing their hobby and have chosen to share what they write with others. Thank you! it is extremely obvious that I could not have done this if they never put pen to page or fingertip to keyboard and did the dang thing in the first place. you've made some cool stuff and i like reading it.

Happy New Year Everyone!

[njm63522]

Lady nagant/kaina tsutsumi headcanons

I love Lady nagant too much, so I have to give myself a reality check (not proofread/my opinion, so this isn't supposed to be taken too seriously/kinda short)

Cw; I talk about her leaving you... often

- to start off, I don't think she'd willingly let you know about her side job. Personally, I think she'd be pretty damn good at hiding her side job

- she comes hone covered in blood? Naw, it's just ketchup

- let me paint you a picture rq

- the day you did find out about her job, you just so happened to witness one of her killings in the alleyway of a city. It was like nothing you've ever seen out of her. The normally carasmatic and loving woman you knew was replaced with a cold-blooded murder

- Unfortunately, I don't think she would value you over her job. You could beg, plead, and cry for her to just quit, but she wouldn't, not because she couldn't quit, but because she felt as if she had nothing else going for her.

- Depending on the type of person you are, it might Unfortunately lead to a breakup ("I can fix her!" You can't, sorry 😓)

- if yall don't break up, she still gets locked up,

-it's not cannon or anything, but I'm sure it was premeditated, so she would probably try to drop subtle hints about 'going away for a while'

- I don't think she'd tell you directly what she's about to do, she'd either give a brief warning that you won't be seeing her, or she would just leave without warning.

- once she's gone, it gives you a lot of time to reflect on your relationship with her.

-when she inevitably gets out (and if she has the guts to visit you) I think she would he remorseful, prison gave her a long time to think about how she treated you, and it made her realize that she MAY have been the problem in the relationship (she 100% was but refuses to take full accountability)

- if your relationship manages to stay strong after that, first, yall should just get married at that point because you are a STRONG willed person

- second, she'll definitely try her best to make up for missed time (taking you out on dates, buying you stuff, etc.)

- all in all, there's never a boring moment when you're with her (weather that's good or bad) but as long you keep in mind that she really does love you, your relationship will most likely last a long time.

Introduction + request policies 🫶

(I'll prolly make nicer and more domestic headcannons of her soon, I just needed to be brought down to earth)