#one pass revision technique

[yellowjestertfs]

Just another ordinary day

Been busy working on a longer project (as in 40k+ words :0) but in the meantime decided to publish another older story of mine with revisions and images. AI was being especially tricky on me this time so the images are not quite what I pictured but good enough. If anyone has any tips for making better images or is interested in proofreading my longer story let me know!

I woke with a start, my mind still groggy from sleep my vision hazy. It was one of those sudden wake-ups that throws off your whole day, the kind usually prompted by some bad dream or loud noise. Only there had been no such occurrence; my sleep had been peaceful and from what I could remember dreamless, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling something had woken me. 

No matter the cause I was up, and judging by the daylight creeping through my shades there was no point falling back to sleep. With a groan, I lifted myself out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. The alarm on my bedside table informed me I had thirty extra minutes this morning to get ready for work. Never one to waste time I decided to have a quick wank with my extra time to try to release some of the stress my sudden wakeup had caused.

Something felt off as I pulled down my pants to reveal my dick, rock hard as it was most mornings. The type of feeling you get when you say a word over and over and it loses all meaning. Everything else seemed normal, my body was still just as average as when I went to bed, nice strong legs from a childhood of playing soccer and a slight beer belly from my time playing beer pong in college. My face looked the same as well, a generally generic face, adorned by light stubble which had grown in while I slept, and bags under my eyes from my draining corporate job. It was my dick that felt off, foreign, only that was ridiculous. It looked the same as it had since I finished puberty. Just over a foot long and proportionally thick, it was just as average as the rest of my body. Something about thinking of my third leg as average felt wrong but I chalked it up to the dregs of sleep. That was simply how men were, nothing strange about it.

Shanking myself out of my contemplative state I hopped into the shower and went about the act of washing away the sheen of sweat I had gained while I slept. I also took this time to rub one out, using the standard two-hand technique practiced by most men. My dick quickly rose to its full size, and within minutes, my tennis ball-sized balls were churning out cum. I thought back to an article I had read in high school that claimed the average male ejaculated a third a gallon of cum per climax, and judging by my admissions that seemed plausible. I supposed the amount coupled with the force accounted for the high rate of condom breakage, not that any but the bravest of women ever allowed for penetrative sex.

After maneuvering the shower head to force all the cum down the drain I turned off the water and wrapped a towel around my waist, paying special care to ensure that my dick didn’t cause the cloth to come undone. Suddenly I felt a wave pass over me. I felt immediately nauseous and light-headed and a strange sensation of deja vu. I realized this was the feeling that had woken me up this morning, then just as suddenly as it had come over me the queasiness vanished as did my memory of the event. I was left only with a vague sense of unease. Powering through the strange sensation I wiped down the mirror and was confronted once again with a visage that felt somehow off. It wasn’t my average face nor the obscene bulge hidden behind my towel, both of those were normal. My body too looked just as average as ever, thick cut pecs, prominent square abs, and bulging 22’’ biceps were nothing to write home about, although I supposed my time playing soccer had given my legs an extra boost elevating them from the standard 30-inch thickness to a respectable 35. Luckily for me, men are incapable of storing fat otherwise I might have a belly from all those beers I drank in college I thought to myself absentmindedly patting my six-pack. Still, in a world where most men have 250 pounds of walking muscle, I have always felt sort of insecure about my scrawny 230-pound body. 

Quickly forgetting about the strange sensation I finished my morning routine, electing to keep my stubble in the hopes of cultivating a more rugged look on my average face. I exited the bathroom and opened my closet, greeted by the sight of several rows of various dress shirts, embarrassingly all labeled as men's adult small. Putting on underwear was easy enough as with all menswear my boxers had a special compartment for my hose-like junk. A dress shirt too buttoned easily over my cabbage-sized pecs as of course all men's shirts were created for just the task. I was just in the process of squeezing my legs into billowing trousers when I felt another wave pass over me. My already precarious balance caused me to fall, and I caught myself on the edge of my dresser, only it wasn’t a dresser. Why would I have a dresser, I wasn’t a woman what would I do with clothing? Righting myself against what I realized was a workout bench I glanced down just to reassure myself of my nakedness. I wondered absently where the thought of me owning clothing had come from, what a preposterous idea, that would be like a woman walking around naked. I would be fired on the spot if I showed up in such an offensive garment. Casting the ridiculous idea out of my mind I grabbed my bag and headed off to work. 

Saying hello to my hunky neighbor as I passed I finally emerged onto the street. Despite my strange morning, the world outside my apartment appeared the same as it always was, men on their way to work naked, of course, pecs and dick bouncing as they walked, bare feet smacking against the smooth temperature-controlled cement. I joined the throngs of men crowding the sidewalks and waited at a crosswalk as men showing flesh drove by, their cars of course made specifically large enough to hold their bulk. I became just another face in the crowd, just another man on his way to work, bodybuilder frame revealed to the wind. The eye easily passed over my foot-long dick, the instrument not nearly long enough to garner any attention. Be they young or old, rich or poor every man was at least 200 pounds of muscle with a shlong to match and of course, all of them were naked, it was simply how the world was, how it had always been. Depending on the subway station I swiped my metro card and made my way to the appropriate train. As the train pulled I was buffeted by yet another wave and was instantly wracked with an intense pulse of nausea which disappeared just as suddenly as it had arrived. 

Releasing I had fallen down, but not knowing why, I stood back up to my full 7’10” hight and saw all around me men doing the same. For a moment the doors to the subway car in front of me looked strange, almost too tall but that didn’t make any sense. They stood just as tall as ever, the standard 9 foot hight, enough to allow most men to enter without hitting their heads. I knew of course that there were rare men who would still have to duck to enter the train car but for the vast majority of men who averaged around 8’0’’, ten feet was more than sufficient. I entered the car and sat down, my bare butt brushing up against the perky ass of a blond man with a round face on one side and a woman in expertly pressed dress slacks and a matching navy blazer on the other. As the train took off another wave stuck. This one merely caused me to clutch my head as a splitting headache appeared and then vanished in a second. The woman next to me was hit harder by the instantly forgotten wave of reality-altering force. Thrown off balance she bounced into my left pec, her head cushioned by the squishy yet firm muscle. Recovering immediately and feeling somewhat confused as to how she ended up pressed against me she apologized and distracted herself by pulling out her phone and flipping to the camera app to ensure her makeup was not smudged. Though the camera was pointed at herself I could see my reflection, my head towering over hers even in my sitting position. 

I certainly wasn’t ugly by any standard but I also wasn’t some model. My chiseled wide jaw was just about as handsome as every other man on the train, although the perfect coating of square stubble that had grown in during the night did lend me a rugged edge. The rest of my features were pretty mundane, clear and pore-less skin, thick square eyebrows and a dimpled wide chin were the default for men, as evidenced by the golden-haired Adonis that sat next to me. Even so, I always liked my piercing bright eyes and high cheekbones even though they were hardly rare in the world.

The blond man sitting next to me with the perfect lantern jaw got up at the next stop. Mine was the one after that. 

I exited the car and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time to ensure I wasn’t late. My work building looked the same as it always did, with large doors to accommodate male employees and in the lobby a giant bronze statue of a man holding the earth, his body naked and extremely well muscled and hung of course for the sake of realism. Despite my relative scrawniness I still used a male-designated elevator, the female ones not made to handle my weight or height. The several other men in the elevator and I had only made it a few floors before we were subject to one final and seemingly extra powerful shockwave. The weight of the changes enacted easily caused all the men even with their rock-hard muscles to crumple and we collapsed onto each other. My hand somehow ended up gasping the long penis of a 40-year-old accountant with a perfectly maintained salt and pepper beard. For a moment I motioned to let go of his member before reality snapped back in and I remembered my manners. It would be incredibly rude for me to begin a morning grope and not bring him to completion. In fact,  I had already made a major faux pas by not kissing my coworker hello. This error in tact was quickly rectified as the rest of the elevator ride turned into a make-out session. By my floor the sexy accountant I was giving a handjob to reached completion and I took his load as my breakfast. As I left he spanked my ass and stuck his business card between my butt checks. Guess he liked my elevator pitch. 

I went straight to my boss's office as was customary and gave the 350-pound silver fox a quick blow job before he transferred his abnormally large penis into my ass and fucked me while we discussed business. Turns out the reality-warping machine he had invested in had been broken into this morning although as far as anyone could tell no damage had been done nor had the machine been used. 

“Makes sense I told him" In-between moans as he obliterated my prostate. “I imagine we would know if someone were to fuck with reality.” 

My boss clenched his superhumanly wide lantern jaw and straightened up to his full over eight-foot height, both football-sized biceps flexed behind his head. “You're right on that account kid, today is yet another ordinary day.

[natalchartnurtures]

PAC: A quick and dirty guide to surviving the eclipse season~

WHY DID NOBODY WARN US ABOUT THIS

(pile 1 to 3- left to right)

~~~~~~~~~~

PILE 1:

How is the eclipse affecting you?

I immediately heard 'they don't really care about what others think anymore.' I'm getting that this eclipse really helped you step back into your authenticity in a powerful way. You might've had to revise and purge old wounds that had their roots in childhood. Any addictions of yours (if you have/had any) have been addressed because of this grand 'purging of the old and unwanted.' It's like your defense mechanisms have taken a backseat because of your inner work around the root of your addictions (maybe your addictions were part of your defense mechanisms). You might've had to live with a certain darkness looming in the background, no matter what you did in your life or where you went in life, and it seems like you've really had to look the root of this darkness in the eye. The eclipse didn't really give you an option; you simply had to. Let's talk about this darkness a little, shall we? It seems to me like you had a stark lack of a healthy masculine figure as well as a lack of a healthy feminine figure in your life. You didn't have much support as a result of this, you to felt or still sre felling disempowered in your life as a whole. THIS is what the eclipse helped you to wake up to. Through the chaos that you're experiencing right now, you'll find exactly what you need to nurture yourself (maybe for the first time ever, for some of you). I feel like you guys might end up tending to the health of your root chakra as a result of this inner work.

Your guide to getting through it like a soldier-

-Care for your anxiety. By that, I simply mean don't deny or suppress your anxiety; see where it's coming from, feel into it, and really sit in it because what you feel, you heal.

-Use EFT (emotional freedom techniques) to help yourself really sit in difficult emotions and/or anxiety.

-ALONE TIME is a need!

-Find ways to 'throw up' emotionally. Like, for example, have a hardcore dance session by yourself at 3 am to angry songs if you have been feeling angry lately. OR you could write all your emotions down onto a paper and tear that paper up and then have a big cry session. Whatever allows you to FEEL your emotions, go do it.

-After your heavy 'purge sessions,' seek things that bring you comfort. Indulge in some TLC if and when you can 😊

Some resources to help you get started-

How to Get Rid of Anxiety (A Natural Cure for Anxiety) - Teal Swan

Learn how to experience your emotions fully

Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT)

How To Open Your Root Chakra

Hope this helped! That was your reading, pile 1. Love, light, and support!

~~~~~~~~~~

PILE 2 :

How is the eclipse affecting you?

As soon as I tapped into your energy, I felt extremely light and airy, as if I turned into a cloud of cotton candy floating away into a bright blue sky. Wow, this tells me one very CLEAR thing - you've done your inner work diligently this eclipse season! You've taken the eclipse energies on actively and worked WITH it, absolutely in sync with the universe. Now all that's left for you is welcoming a brand new energy into your life.

How can you do exactly that?

-Actively schedule in things that bring you joy ✨️

-Every now and then when you feel like heavy emotions are rising to the surface, allow them to pass. Let your emotional intelligence shine, sweetheart.

-After you've felt your emotions, it's time to take care of you! TLC all the way, baby. Think long bubble baths, move slower than usual, enjoy yummy foods, wrap yourself in your favorite blankie. Drink some soul-healing soup. You get the vibe.

-Ground yourself. Listen to grounding frequencies whenever you feel like your thoughts carry you away.

-Mother yourself. By that, I simply mean - feed yourself well, allow yourself a consistent sleep cycle, find ways to make your life easier, support yourself in whatever little ways you can 😊

Some resources to help you get started-

Learn how to experience your emotions fully

How to Stop Expecting The Worst (Catastrophizing) -Teal Swan

That was your reading, dear sweet pile 2!

Hope it helped.

Love, light, and support!

~~~~~~~~~~

PILE 3 :

How is the eclipse affecting you?

You're going to have a 'real awakening' this eclipse season 😬 So, apparently, you've been going through your life blissfully unaware of your wounds and how they were blocking you from living a far better life. You operated under the impression that your life as it is right now was good just the way it is and honestly… a reflection of your full potential. But you couldn't possibly be further from the truth. It's like this eclipse was a rude awakening for you to realize just how limited of a life you were leading. Must've been a difficult thing to process? Yes? Since your old cycles have been blowing up in your face lately, you've been in a process of empowering yourself and are slowly opening up to new aspects of yourself that you previously weren't aware existed, the parts of you that are deeply emotional and intuitive. Doing this will really boost your strength and resilience in general. But there's some good news I have for you. You're on your way to feeling much more satisfied in your life, sprinkled in with great relationships all around you. It's like you're headed to a more aligned life. It's beautiful to be honest. It's obviously going to come after this intense period of awakening ripples out into a plateau though after a period of internal discomfort.

So, how can you survive this period to get to where you wanna be?

-Slow. Tf. down. Take your breaks and pace yourself. Easier said than done but pacing yourself will really help you through the chaotic energy floating around right now. Walk slower than usual, eat slower than usual, stare up at the sky and daydream when you're on a bus or something. Do romantic stuff (not necessarily with a partner, simply for yourself).

-Take some time on a regular basis to tune into your emotions. Learn how to feel again. It's really important for you right now and also doing this will greatly expedite your journey as well

-Replace some of your social time with alone time. Use it to reflect on yourself (this might feel way out of your comfort zone by the way).

-Do abundance affirmations (or all areas of life) and affirmations for forward movement.

-listen to subliminals that bring you a sense of abundance in all areas of your life.

-Find ways to feel active in your own life. Dabble in main character (MC) energy. See what it means for you.

Some resources to help you get started-

How To Feel (Learn How to Start Feeling) - Teal Swan

Learn how to experience your emotions fully

Abundance subliminal

Subliminals for positive growth and forward movement

That was your reading, dear sweet pile 3!

Hope it helped.

Love, light and support!

~~~~~~~~~~

[sugudoe]

a/n: matching for @tigreblvnc, hope you enjoy this!! mwah.

⁀➷ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. . . ﹫ 𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪 ៹ ༉‧₊🫕

This meeting, as much as all the others before, has tedium setting on your bones like it was always meant to be. As if it had grow with you, settling on your shoulders and hanging there. This is, of course, the merge of other’s emotions that you absorve like a sponge ── your technique, some times called invasive, others exceedingly special, is the ability to catch the notion from others.

On your tongue, the desire to smoke tints it. You stare to your side, where Shoko’s irritation is seen through her clenching fingers. From your other side, playfulness hits you like bubbles busting ── Gojo and Geto, playing rock-paper-scissors under the table, and Satoru keeps loosing.

Still, boredom is the most strong feeling in the room. It covers you like a heavy fog, impregnating your vision. You wonder if it’s yours, but the intensity of it comes from the other side of the room. The man drinking coffee, staring at his paper like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

Nanami.

You almost snort at that. How he, always praised for his work, always making sure everything is correct, can’t handle anymore bullshit that comes from the mouth of this old man talking.

“Can we go?” When the voice quiet down, you ask.

“I—, we still need to revise this mission.” A man says nervously.

“I’m with him, on this one.” It’s Nanami that comes in your favor. “It’s already settled.”

You see, Nanami, as stated, has this deep connection with his job. He hates it, and makes sure everyone knows, if only they give him an opportunity. Still, Kento is very reserved when his bosses are around. So, it’s a little secret to have with him, sharing his deep emotions and soaking into it.

Nonetheless, you follow him out of the room. If he had your technique, he would sense your curiosity. You can never know how one’s emotion begins, that’s why you have this desire to understand.

He walks ahead, as if your presence is a common occurrence. “Ask.” He says.

“Why are you so eager to leave?”

“Because I was bored.”

“Why are you bored?”

“The meeting was unnecessary.”

“Why is it unnecessary?”

“The curse is not that strong.”

Why?

Why?

Why?

Nanami, you sense, does like your questions. You both are sitting on his office, you with your “why’s”, he with your answers. He grows giddy, happily expecting them.

Nanami is a short temper man, some would say. But he is soft with you, he lets you stick by his side with your curiosity, and he offers some questions he has, allowing you to not answer if you don’t want. He, contrary to you, answers all.

Yours and Kento relationship before that was normal. Acknowledging each other while passing the school’s halls and going on sporadical missions together, turned into sharing your breaks and knowing glances.

Nanami most common questions are about what others are feelings, that’s how you know he is a divine gossiper. He once asked you how you were feeling, and you felt weird.

The thing about your technique is that you share the others emotions, to the point it gulps down yours. Is weird to not be sure of who you are exactly sometimes, and Nanami cares for you enough to oblige you to take a free time. You feel warm.

Inside a cabin in the woods, rented by him for you, you stayed a few days alone with yourself. Coming back to your senses, the weight of others slipping through your shoulders and falling behind. All you had was you, calmness, the trees, the wind, and… affection.

For Nanami.

You like Nanami.

When you want something, you refuse to let it go, and he wouldn’t be any different. You come back home days later, with this knowledge tugging your heart to him. He comes in view, asking about the trip, but you get wonderstruck by the need to kiss him that hits you like waves to the shore.

It’s not only yours.

He wants it.

“You want to kiss me.” You say, and he nods with a smile. So, you do.

Dating Nanami is as easy as breathing flowers. Divine and blooming, as always. He has you sitting near him, to whisper what you think of others, to say your criticism that you keep hidden, but he shares them as well, and both of you become two adults whispering and snorting in the back of the room.

Your authority is very charming for Nanami. He thinks you look adorable scolding others, but he never says it. You, however, feel his emotions in a different light from others, so you always know. See, if he catches you arguing with Suguru, annoying Satoru or joking with them, to the point of terrible jokes, he ─ Nanami smirks. He does and he doesn’t regret the curious eyes of the others, because it’s all for you.

His emotions, his answers, his devotion. Him. All yours.

─┈ ⭑ ° ⋆ FUN FACTS 𓂃ᰔ

🫕 ┊ nanami respects your independence and needs of alone time, and, like the mountain cabin, he always rents places of calmness for you. lake and beach houses, anything. if you ask, he will go with you, sometimes he rents places for you both.

🫕 ┊ domestic life with nanami is all about wandering supermarkets. he has this funny joke of inventing stories with people, and he always manage to make you laugh with his unique creativity.

🫕 ┊ master of massages, you don’t even need to ask. he, however, does ask. he loves your hand.

🫕 ┊ sure, you both are always traveling, but nanami adores to bring you to ocasional fairs and taste new foods with you, giving scores from best to worst. the two of you are very serious with this task.

🫕 ┊ you hate rain and cold weather, nanami doesn’t mind, because your grumpy self turns to him, obliging him to snuggle you while watching your choice of movie.

[mumblingsage]

I think I've recommended it in passing a few times, but writers seeking more craft books: I would run, not walk, in the direction of Matthew Salesses's Craft in the Real World. It's one of the most exciting books on writing that I've read in years (up there with Ron Carlson Writes a Story, Samuel Delaney's The Jewel-Hinged Jaw, Kim Addonizio's The Poet's Companion and June Casagrande's It Was the Best of Sentences, It Was the Worst of Sentences). I think it might be most helpful if you've already read some other books on craft--it's a sort of 201-level response to 101-level advice, and if you aren't familiar with the 101 advice you might miss some of the significance. But parts like the revision exercises definitely stand on their own.

Salesses re-evaluates and explores a lot of common writing ""rules"" with the understanding of how culturally contingent they are, and how this is a disservice to writers and readers from backgrounds and cultures outside the presumed "norm." At the same time, he offers modifications of the tools and new techniques/new ways of thinking of old techniques. I'm in the middle of his re-definitions of terms. For instance, Salesses recommends looking at Characterization as "What makes one character different from everyone else." Character + Story Arcs are "What changes or fails to change." Craft itself is "a set of expectations."

Lightbulb moments everywhere.

(While I'm sending out book advice: for less 'exciting' but super solid grounding in techniques designed for nonfiction but applicable broadly, try anything by Roy Peter Clark. Ursula K. Le Guin's Steering the Craft is short but rich; it's one of my first recommendations to writers just getting started on reading craft advice. In the Palm of Your Hand is another poetry workbook that has advice on vocabulary, detail, and narrative that applies well to fiction too. For anyone looking into self-publishing, it's out of print and parts are dated but if you can secure a used copy through your library or secondhand sales, Catherine Ryan Howard's Self-Printed: The Sane Person's Guide to Self-Publishing is hugely informative and amusingly written.)

[circledotdestroy]

Retrospective - Chapter 3: Square One

Pairing: Shouta Aizawa x F! Pro-Hero! Reader (slow burn)

Main Summary: After 12 years, you, Pro-Hero Strife, has to return to Japan. Your objective: discreetly track down and capture Akari Kaneko, a.k.a. Pro-Hero Aegis— your old classmate who attacked you during her visit in America. In the aftermath of All Might losing his power, however, using UA resources has its complications. The most unexpected complication being Aizawa, someone you never expected to see again. Why does your past have to come back to haunt you now? Masterlist First Chapter Last Chapter Word Count: 6,133

A/N: I'm back before a whole month passed! To celebrate, here's the chapter I spent those weeks revising. If you have any notes on how I did regarding the second portion in particular, I would appreciate it because it changed about 5 times. Anyway, it's A LOT of words so get comfy! I hope you enjoy the fic, and have a wonderful day.

All conflict is announced with lightning. Half your life was lightning rattling inside a box. Spine. Skull. Ribs. Fingers. The electricity, the HEAT craved consumption. All the things you were: fire, lighting, heat, raw energy– they were the visible manifestation of reactivity. 

Pointed gazes of your classmates charged you with the focus of a wall outlet. But you weren’t training right now. Homeroom finished seconds ago. You didn’t do anything–this time. No pre-battle taunts. No staring back. No staring at all, really. Akari missed out on today’s episode of “Strife’s Astute Observational Skills” because you had to pay attention to your homeroom teacher. 

Today was the day. You couldn’t misunderstand or forget a single word he said.

This moment was your career, your life. It was the CRUCIAL event of debuting your early hero career; and the whole world was going to see. 

So why was everyone staring at you? They should be concerned about their own strategy. Akari turned her chair to talk to you before the next class, but stopped to look at the students around the two of you. No one dared to whisper in the intense silence. You wondered if Akari felt the heat radiating through the room like you did. 

The tension got boring. When nothing happened right away, you picked up your bookbag to prepare for the next class. You flipped through the folders until you were interrupted by Akari tapping your desk rapidly for your attention.  Humming in acknowledgement, you grabbed the next folder and sat up. Aizawa was by your desk. You glanced at Akari, who gave you her look that said “I don’t know what’s going on”, then back at Aizawa. He looked down on you with unrivaled intensity. 

Aizawa, the boy with the rare ability to cancel other’s quirks with sight alone–what did he want from you? “I’m going to beat you in the Sports Festival,” he challenged you. It’s strange he felt the need to do that; whether coincidence or by design, he’s usually your opponent during training.

 Quirk-wise, he won the lottery. He was the most annoying person you’ve trained with in class. Not just because the teachers rarely let you go against anyone else. His quirk disregarded the prepwork you did before training to improve your quirk! Maybe YOUR physical training put you ahead of the game, but being paired with Aizawa all the time– and you mean ALL. THE. TIME–does nothing for you. It stalled your progress. It wasn’t fair. Everyone else gets to practice with their quirk, they get to have teachers give them pointers to improve their technique. But guess what? Most of these idiots can't punch correctly!

It’s clear the frustration wasn’t one-sided either. Aizawa never talked about it to you, or anyone in class, but before every challenge your spine sparked, after everything was done, his restless upset lingered. His combat was unpolished. Aizawa can take your strength away, but there’s only so much he can do against someone with years of formal training. 

UA doesn’t include non-quirk-based combat in the curriculum. Observing All Might’s fights told you that much. He relied on his strength and speed instead of any classic fighting style. You should’ve guessed UA didn’t cover brawling, but hey, no one’s perfect. 

Despite what other students have said, Aizawa wasn’t hopeless. In fights, he made plans in a snap and constantly tried new strategies to win. Going against him could be more interesting, if it wasn’t a frequent occurrence. Growing up in the hero industry, you had an eye for finding possibilities. Aizawa was a gem. In a world where anything is possible, he could dictate a fight’s terms. An advantage any agency would, and should, invest in. They’d be idiots if they didn’t.

Now though, he was here. Standing in front of you–with his little death glare. Challenging you to the event the whole grade is competing in by default. There was something about having the quietest boy in class show this much—what was it? His words were direct. He forced everyone’s attention on him and you, so contradictory to his usual self.

“Okay,” you shrugged. It wasn’t like you two weren’t competing for the top spot anyway.

“I’m serious.” 

You nodded, unsure why he was upset. You accepted his challenge, did he not hear you? You repeated yourself, “okay.”

Aizawa stayed at your desk. His bottom lip pushed out. Was he pouting? “Are you listening to me?” 

You shrugged lightly once more and turned your seat his way. “I said "okay ". Did you want something else from me?” An extra surge fizzled through your nerves. Aizawa’s eye twitched. He’s never done that before, you don’t think you’ve had ANYONE do that before. The closest thing was one of your dad’s coworkers–who’d twitch her lip when someone didn’t put the gym equipment away. 

“It’s unbelievable how you think you’re better than everyone. You’ve done nothing to earn it.” 

‘Done nothing?’

You pushed yourself up from your chair. ‘Done NOTHING.’

The hell does he mean “done nothing”?

You’ve gone above and beyond your whole damn life, but you’ve “done nothing”. In a room full of idiots who have NO fighting technique outside their quirk, YOU’RE the one who’d done nothing? 

You scoffed. “I have earned it.” The lightning bolt rattled inside the box looking for how it could run free. Closing the remaining distance, you became aware of how short Aizawa was compared to all the other boys in class. He didn’t move. You leaned closer and squinted at Aizawa’s face. Short and had a baby face to match. It’s like he came straight out of middle school. 

Normally standing this close caused most people to become uncomfortable. They’d look away or step back, but Aizawa didn’t break his gaze. He hasn’t once during this whole time. Didn’t he think you were a threat? The lightning bolt knocked against the box again. Why not nudge it open for a little while? Just enough for the boy in front of you. 

“Aizawa, last year I was accepted in a hero course in America. This year I was accepted into UA. Both times other students only thought about how ‘cool’ their quirk was, but people who only rely on quirks are lazy and become useless in the field. If you don’t learn other things, you’re an idiot.”  After years of training, and practice, and studying. After years of fighting to improve. There was no way in hell idiots should get a gold star because of their quirk. THAT would be doing “nothing”. He of all people should know better.

Staring inky droplets, you waited for his response. In seconds, his eyes widened and started to dart around the room. His breathing became shallow, increasing in speed. This part didn’t happen this quickly, then again, targets usually aren’t face-to-face with you. There was all this room between the desks for him to move away, but he didn’t. Aizawa was petrified.

Something gnawed in your stomach. Telling you it was a mistake, to let it go. Reminding you to not get caught. You shut the lid once more. You’ve scared him enough. Standing upright, you gave him a better chance to speak up. Something to back the big talk from earlier. 

Nothing.

You backed off from him, disappointment and restlessness swirled inside you. “I accepted your challenge. Practice your combat and don’t make us look bad, okay?” 

Aizawa responded in silence. Whatever he had when he first walked up to you was absent. He sulked to his seat, scowling when both your eyes met. You sat in your chair first, watching as he did the same.

The audience grumbled disappointed the show was over. They broke off into their own chatter about the Sports Festival. You looked ahead, rolling your eyes flippantly at Akari. She chuckled as she dug through her book bag in front of you for one of her notebooks. Any conversation had to wait. The next teacher should show up soon.

“Good morning, everyone,” a tired voice announced at the door. You turned from the back of the room, then trailed up, and up, and up the body of a frightfully thin man, slouching with a broken arm. Despite your own physical state, if you didn’t watch where you were walking you could send him flying into a table. He was a neon sign reminding you to stand tall and keep your shoulders back. In the heavy armor you wore, it’ll make you look stronger than you feel. Just like in those old All Might specials you watched when you were younger, “stand tall, keep your chin high, and show confidence.” The man, easily over seven-foot, paused in place, acknowledging you. Your hand rose from your side to wave–but, this was supposed to be a professional meeting. Wouldn’t a head bow be the polite thing to do?

Before you could do so, he spoke. “Hello, are you here for the meeting too?” 

“Yes.”

Mic stepped ahead. “All Might,” your eyes shifted back to the tall man. Crap, that’s All Might? Why is All Might here? “This is my old friend, Miss America, the Queen of Terror, and your Number 1 Fan in middle school–” your head snapped back toward your friend as he rushed that last statement and finished introducing you. “Strife, this is All Might, you know him already.”

All Might continued to smile, extending his unbroken hand for you to shake. You did, not having the heart to say Mic was exaggerating about your fan status. Yeah, you liked All Might, most people do. However, being his “number 1 fan in middle school” meant studying his fights when they came on your radar. Watching interviews to practice your Japanese. Not buying merchandise and knowing every detail about him. The only merch you’ve had for him was maybe two t-shirts gifted to you by one of your instructors growing up. In spite of still liking All Might as an adult, you’ve since come to the conclusion you’d never actually want to meet him in-person. 

“What part of America are you from,” All Might asked in english.

You took your hand back, not expecting him to continue with his own conversation. “I moved around a lot, so almost everywhere?” Switching back to english-mode was easier than stumbling through casual Japanese. All Might must’ve sensed it somehow and decided to save himself the headache.  

“Even in California?”

“Mostly for work, but I know Los Angeles loves you.” If you pulled up the news feed in America, there’d be several articles about LA’s celebration of All Might’s last fight. You couldn’t imagine being in his place– forced into retirement. Reminding him about the love he has back in the States would be a nice gesture, you thought.

“That’s good to know,” he responded. The man standing before you didn’t look like the hero you remembered, but his voice held sincerity. You understand why people were at ease around him.

Y’know, Strife went to school here because of you. She was in the same class as Aizawa and I,” Mic said, also in english 

“Really,” All Might was taken aback. Whether it was because he forgot popular heroes tend to inspire people to go to certain schools or because of Mic’s general behavior, you weren’t too sure. Mic did say you should work here. It’s like he wanted to introduce you to as much staff as possible, including the hero who inspired you to go to a different country, so you’ll be convinced to stay here. ”How’d you like it?”

Memories snapped together in your brain. A blinding window in the principal’s office. Piles of rubble you dug through. A pro chasing you in the woods— Hizashi started to fidget and laugh beside you nervously. Not the best things to remember about your school. You gave the white walls of the room a once over. Black fabric held your attention. ‘Training was fun.’ Eating on the roof was great—when you got over how tall the school building was. Getting your hero license was still one of the best days of your life. Just when you started thinking of the good times, a man–wearing a uniform similar to your old one, came into the room. He did a double-take, his eyes hardened into a glare, his underbite became more pronounced. Eyes burned into your back. When you glanced behind you, Aizawa already looked away. “I learned a lot,” you said making eye contact with All Might.

This guy with the underbite didn’t say a word as he walked behind All Might. He watched you as he lumbered to his chair at the center table of the ‘U’ formation—between Snipe and Aizawa. Aizawa glanced up from the folders to the other man. The man with the underbite nodded to him. Were they colleagues for a long time? Were they friends? 

Shaking the thought, you refreshed your smile toward All Might. It wasn’t a difficult thing to do considering who he is. “It was definitely… an experience,” you chuckled.  

“I’m sure we can talk about specifics during another time,” Mic jumped in. He’d have more stories to share than you would, and he’d relish the opportunity. It was for the best. What you remembered from high school was limited. Since graduation, a lot happened. There was always something. It didn’t help that your memories were typically sinkholes. It was usually up to your conversations with Hizashi and Nemuri to fill in the blanks when it came to your teenage years and some of your early twenties. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fun,” said All Might. He wished you luck in the meeting before he went to his seat at Midnight’s table. With the arrival of underbite guy, the entire roster showed up. The principal walked to the front of the room as Mic shook your shoulder for luck and went to his own seat by Aizawa. Aizawa stacked the folders and pushed them to the edge of his table, closer to the man with the underbite.

Underbite man continued sizing you up.  Aizawa stared you down as well. You widened your stance, daring either of them to speak, but nothing came. The men shifted their attention to their boss.

Pain and hunger paused as the meeting rapidly approached.

 What would Aizawa have in those folders, you wondered. He was reading those in the hallway and he went into the meeting room after the principal. Did Nezu know what was inside? Was it something Aizawa had against you? If you went over there, you could swipe one and see what he has; but it’s too late.

Nezu’s in front of the room. “I want to thank you all for taking the time, early this morning, to have this meeting—” No plan that involved getting close to Aizawa would work now. If you planned ahead, you could’ve done something in the hallway. Aizawa’s attention left Nezu and went to you. Frantically, you darted your eyes to the back corner of the other side of the room. Yes, because that doesn’t look suspicious at all.  “–current events and the changes in the school’s security, I want the decision to be made by you, my most trusted staff.” Aizawa totally noticed you staring at his folder! “I know the six of you will make a fair decision.” 

Like hell this was going to be fair, you thought. Aizawa has a folder with—

‘With what, exactly,’ you questioned. ‘What evidence could Aizawa physically have against you?’ 

Your breathing slowed and the walls of the room collapsed away into void. Hizashi and Nemuri are here. You met All Might and it was ok, in spite of any reservations you had. You were being ridiculous. 

Right?

Any dirt Aizawa had on you would show dirt on his own hands. If he wanted you gone, he’d have to rely on present examples or poke through your arguments. So far he had access to neither. Apart from that, you’ve been to countless meetings.

 “Strife,” Principal Nezu said. 

The walls reformed around you as you acknowledged him. Heat pooled behind your neck as you looked at the people that will decide your luck on the investigation.  “You have the floor.” The principal walked to his seat, by the edge of Nemuri’s table, where a notepad was set. Mic gave you a small thumbs up with the hand that rested by the edge of his table. You nodded, doing a discreet thumbs up of your own with your left hand to your thigh. 

 You grinned politely, making sure to thank the principal for the introduction. Showing you have good manners could sway the faculty by showing you weren’t a horrible dungeon troll. “And thank you all for your time, as well. As said before, I’m Pro-Hero Strife. I’m in Japan for a mission. I understand UA had some challenges in these past months and now is a critical time. With this in mind, I want to do my mission quietly. If you would do the favor of allowing me to do research here, I'd appreciate it greatly.” You made sure to look at everyone in the room, even at the two scowling men.

Aizawa had his arms crossed, unconvinced of the introduction you pulled out of your ass. Because, of course, he’d remember you are a horrible dungeon troll. You’re ready for him to speak out, but his partner took initiative.

“It’d be easier to make a decision if we got more details for your mission.” Underbite guy’s demanding tone almost made you break character. No objections came as to how the guy spoke to you. Of course, he couldn’t be the silent, suspicious type. Someone here had to be the ‘brash’ one, just like your ex-boss from the old agency. 

You continued to smile like you were taught. “That’s fair,” the arrangement looked riskier on their end. They couldn’t accept the agreement blindly. Sharing a few details could win their trust. “I’m looking for someone. A Pro-Hero by the name “Aegis”, her legal name is Kaneko Akari.”

“KANEKO?” You flinched at Mic’s outburst. Eyes bounced to him as the sunglasses hung from his face and his jaw hit the floor. You forgot about how over the top his reactions were in-person. “This meeting’s about HER?” 

Question marks filled the room. Aizawa continued his cold stare. The other guy held skepticism in his features. Particularly in the way he furrowed his brow as shown by the curves on his mask. Now that you really looked at it, an orange mask was such an odd choice for his uniform! His outfit is red, black and white, making the orange way too much. Maybe if he wore a visor instead it would add more variety in the texture and have a practical use—

Poor design choices aside– not preparing Mic ahead of time deducted points from your favor— you had to focus! You didn’t know if the staff knew Mic set this meeting in motion for you. But his reaction says you told him something and didn’t bother with full details. It makes both of you look bad. There’s no spinning this observation without pinning the blame on Mic. You’ll just have to take the hit and see if you can make up for it somewhere else.

“That name sounds familiar, " Midnight commented with slightly furrowed brows. Those words made you ready to jump. If Mic’s shock wasn’t a reflection of what you didn’t tell him, you can correct this misstep. Like if there was information, the type the media hasn’t released yet. “Wasn’t she in your class?” 

Disappointment washed over you. If she wasn’t told anything confidential, then there was no news. You shouldn’t be surprised Midnight didn’t know much about Aegis. In school, Nemuri met Akari once, off the top of your head. They didn’t interact after. After all, Akari was shy, Nemuri was… not.  

“Yeah, she was.” Mic answered as you swallowed your disappointment.  “Aegis has been ranking higher on the popularity polls for the past few years. Unexpected, considering her whole brand revolves around her fights. She doesn’t do much press events or interviews. Other than that, she’s a complete hermit!” Mic swung his arms out, nearly decking Aizawa, and leaned into his chair, making it drift backward. Aizawa scowled at him. “What do you need with that weirdo anyway,” he asked, pulling himself back to the table. 

Unlike when you spoke to him in the hallway, you took a moment to think about what to say exactly. Irritation was weaved throughout his response. Whether he was upset with you, or if he was annoyed at the mention of Akari was unclear. But you knew when this was over, no matter the result, he’d tell you everything.

You staggered for words, but only found broken porcelain and glass. A sickening crack. High pitched shattering then soft thumps of the pieces hitting the ground like rain. The blood oozed from Akari’s mouth as she left you with a cryptic message. One you weren’t sure you translated right when you were actively bleeding onto the carpet. “Kaneko got into trouble while she was in the States. The current charges include: multiple counts of vandalism, aggravated assault, breaking and entering, and arson. I have to find her and bring her back.” You’d never admit this outloud, but you were surprised you remembered how to say all those crimes as well as you did. Meanwhile, the teachers picture-posed like mannequins. Principal Nezu held his pen against the paper for a moment, then scribbled ferociously. 

“Those are serious accusations,” Snipe said. “Are you sure she did all this?”

“Yes.” You strolled over to your briefcase, bracing to pick it up “normally”. Your jaw clenched until your face was in the faculty’s view again. You stood with it by Mic offering a quick “excuse me”. He responded by gesturing ‘go ahead’. Setting the briefcase onto the table, you pulled one of the five disks out, along with a tiny remote, before shutting and shoving it under the table.

 “There are pictures of Aegis entering and leaving the location.” Going back to the center of the room you held the button on the disk. When it blinked blue, you dropped it while pressing the remote’s top button for the hologram to appear. When you pressed the next button, four images of Akari post-fight walking away from the hotel room, labeled and dated, alongside an image of her in uniform taken from a news article. The faculty reacted accordingly. The only exasperation you processed was “it’s really Kaneko” from the table behind you. In the top right picture, Akari held her overnight bag close to her body like she would a shield. Right arm going across to help her carry the weight from the camera’s point of view. 

You pressed the button again to transition to the next set of images. The hotel room. Two beds, one with a busted frame. A shattered window. Glass. Porcelain. Splinters. Splashed all over the floor like water. Then the splatters of dried blood in more places than you remembered.

“This is where the assault took place,” All Might asked in awe of the destruction. 

You confirmed, glass shattering in the back of your mind.

“It’s hard to believe a hero would go to another country to swap sides,” commented Snipe.

“Aegis isn’t being charged as a villain,” you corrected. “There’s no evidence she used her quirk, these are criminal charges.”

“These claims can cost a Pro their career without proper evidence.” Underbite responded. You didn’t like the way he said it. It wasn’t an exasperated comment, made in the shock of a Pro Hero throwing their like away overseas. The way it sounds, and the way he was looking at you as he said it, it sounded like an accusation. 

He didn’t believe you.

“With her rise in popularity, there’ll be an uproar regardless if the charges are made public. Especially now with the current condition of hero society,” All Might’s words drifted off. His hand met his chin. Pondering about the power vacuum his retirement is leaving behind, no doubt. If not, then he’s thinking of the scrutiny UA has been facing due to the villain attacks. Based on what Akari had brought up with that so-called “Hero Killer”, there’s been discourse on the idea of a “true hero” these past couple months. Combining all three concepts together painted an ugly picture explaining why you go to Japan’s Hero Commision. Who knows what they’d do with the current facts of this case if they find out.

“Popularity be damned! A criminal’s a criminal, a crime's a crime,” Mic bursted out. “That’s clearly Aegis, let’s just let Strife investigate here already!”

“It’s not that simple, Mic,” Midnight countered. “Even if there is evidence Aegis committed those crimes, that’s not the topic of the meeting. We need to think of the students before we let any hero investigate on school grounds. Think about it, there’s a reason why we don’t bring our investigations here as teachers.”

“Confidentiality is a big one. At least with the hero-side of our profession,” Snipe added. “On the teacher-side—even if there isn’t a rule against it, having a student see our cases runs the risk of them telling others, making them panic. Strife being here solely for an investigation does the same thing.” He had a point, you wouldn’t be confined to the school’s basement if they let you research here. The investigation required you to come in and out of the building to follow leads. With hundreds of students in the same area, they’re bound to notice you around. “Tensions are high with the students as it is.” 

But you could be careful–

“They’ll know she doesn’t belong here in seconds,” the soon-to-be world's third most grating voice reached your ears. 

Your eyes whipped to Midnight’s side of the room and looked at the wall behind her and Nezu. ‘Deep breaths,’ you told yourself. If you made eye contact with Underbite now, end badly. For you. ‘Deep. Breaths.’ The Principal didn’t look up from his notes, Midnight had her head cocked toward the center table with narrowed eyes. 

“C’mon, Vlad, give her credit! Strife graduated here, she’s a Pro, and she can keep a mission on the DL,” Mic argued coolly. 

“Of course, you would say that. You were in her corner before you knew why she was here. This is a critical time, do we really need anyone bringing more problems around this school?”

‘Breathe in. Breathe out.’

“Alright, let’s calm down,” All Might spoke up. His calm voice relaxed you enough to stop your inner commands. “Who’s to say it’ll cause problems? We don’t know what her investigation looks like yet.” All Might ended his statement looking at you.

You bowed your head ready to grab his gift, this opportunity he gave you, and run. “Outside myself, she had no contact with anyone in the States. On the first day of her disappearance, no one in the agency could find her. One of my coworkers found the postcard she left behind implied she was heading here. She doesn’t have contact with anyone in the States, but me. Japan is different. I need to learn about the people Aegis talks to regularly. Mic said she didn’t do interviews often, meaning I must look deeper. I know UA has records of Alumni, I think those records will be the most helpful.”

“Right.” You roll your eyes, ‘what now,’ you thought. So far, he was a mix between your old boss, the Medic, and your blank-eyed homeroom teacher with the way he’s testing your patience. We’re just going to hand over confidential files because you say so?”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Vlad,”  Mic asked, getting equally annoyed as you. Even Aizawa’s side-eyeing him for being as subtle as a freight train.

“I mean ‘I don’t trust this woman’,” Vlad responded. He gestured toward your direction. “For all we know, this is an old crime scene!”

“What are you talking about,” Mic asked.

Vlad pointed at you. “This woman has no business being around our students!”

“Excuse me,” you said without thinking. 

“Don’t act innocent. I know you have a history of manipulating people,” Vlad argued. He was the one starting problems! You wanted to argue back, but the principal was watching. Holding your tongue you glance around the room. You paused looking at the folders on Aizawa’s table. Aizawa watched you while Vlad accused you. Despite his insistence of knowing why you were here, he hasn’t said a thing since the meeting started. It was Vlad. They nodded to each other when they saw each other– Vlad knew what was inside those folders.

What the hell did Aizawa have on you?

An aggravated sigh left Aizawa. He rolled his chair back toward the wall as Mic and Vlad argued. It was the type of sigh you would let out when a new grad didn’t know a proper fighting stance—one that didn’t get them punched in the face. You clenched your left hand, ready to fight back against anything Aizawa had to say. He looked at the two men. “You need to calm down.” He turned to an irritated Vlad, who was as shocked as you were right now. “This is about the camp incident?” 

Vlad cocked his head at Aizawa— like he was asking the same thing you were. What does the villain attack have to do with this? 

“Our teachers resolved that years ago.” You took a step back. He wasn’t talking about the villain attack. But what did he mean by ‘our teachers’, Vlad wasn’t a student here. “Everyone panicked because a pro hero had unchecked anger issues and shouldn’t have been left alone with the students. The teachers at the time said everyone overreacted because of the heat,” Aizawa explained; he used the same rehearsed story. “It was fifteen years ago, we all moved on.” 

But why?

Vlad squinted at him in disbelief. “And what about the fights?” Red alarm lights went off. No one outside the school was supposed to know about those. Vlad was a student here!

“Fights?” Aizawa’s brows furrowed. He turned to Midnight, who looked down tracing her nail along the table’s surface. Then at Mic, who took to inspecting your briefcase underneath the table for quality.  

“We resolved those as well,” Principal Nezu declared. Tension left your shoulders thinking about the office window. How the setting sun shone through your eyelids as you stared below the desk, picking at a loose string that used to hold a gold button in place. The only memory you have of that day was when he said: ‘This is the last chance I’m giving you, you must make better decisions.’ “Vlad, if you have a relevant point, say it before we move on.”

 Vlad took a deep breath of his own. “I’m sorry for getting worked up, Nezu,” he sat down. You rolled your eyes, noting how he didn’t apologize for his behavior toward you. “I wanted to point this out as a pattern of behavior. Aizawa said the Pro Hero who watched over us had no reason being around students. I’m saying the same thing about Strife.”

“You’re entitled to your opinion, but Strife’s conduct during this meeting has been stellar. She had more patience than even I thought possible.” Nezu’s words made your head spin. You wanted to accept the compliment, but what did he expect you to act like? Did he think you'd punch Vlad in the neck? C’mon, you were a crappy teenager, but you wouldn’t have done that!

Vlad’s face scrunched up. He wanted to argue, but was holding back. Acting hostile toward you, whether it was his intent or not, worked in your favor. If he didn’t want you to stick around, he couldn’t rely on the past. To everyone else, anything you did prior to graduation was a long-rusted hatchet.

Nezu asked if anyone had any other concerns before getting on with the meeting. The teachers looked amongst themselves, a few shaking their heads.

“I do.” Aizawa’s eyes pierced through you expectantly as he leaned closer to the table. The last thing you said to him during your little reunion. You were supposed to tell him why you’re here, and he’s not satisfied. There’s no walking away this time.

He did you a favor, it’s your turn to pay up.

“How did you get this case?”

 “Kaneko visited me at my agency out of nowhere. I was working on a mission with a team when she arrived. She saw the agency was behind, crime has been getting worse these past few months, and she offered her help. The boss approved and she was added on to the mission. When we were done, we went to a hotel and this happened,” you gestured at the holographic images of the disaster zone. “I don’t know why she did this, but I know this wasn’t planned.”

“How,” asked Aizawa, still not pleased.

“She committed her crimes before she got paid. Boss told her she’d get the check the day after the mission finished because the money needed to be decided.” She hit you in the back of your head while you were looking for the commission paper. The mission was difficult. No smart or sane person would do it for free. “I have to find her– if Kaneko committed these crimes on her own, she has to pay.” 

“You have a personal stake in this,” All Might realized.  

You sighed looking at your boots. You knew this would come up. “If I said I didn’t, it’d be a lie. Kaneko showed up, I invited her in, and now I have to fix the problem. Without the history, in my agency I’m the only hero qualified to come here and bring her back. The Boss said my background made me the best option.”

“In the hallway, you said that your investigation should take less than two weeks,” Midnight said, lacing her fingers together on the desk. “During that time, the only students that must be in the school are in the first year hero course.”

“We already said, she can’t go in and out of campus without suspicion. How do you think that’s going to work with the first years after a villain attack,” Vlad asked. Midnight fumed in response, making him back off. 

Before you could respond, Aizawa spoke up. “What he means to say is our classes are training to get their hero licenses soon. They need to focus. If you’re around with no explanation, you’ll be a distraction.”

The cogs turned in their place as you realized who you were speaking to right now. Your smile came back. “That’s right, Mic told me about that!” If all you needed was an explanation… the deal wrote itself. If Aizawa wanted you gone before, you had to give him something to reconsider. “I could help with the exam.”

“Is that so,” asked the Principal.

“I’ve judged sixteen American licensing exams and I’ve mentored younger heroes at my agency. Mic said I was qualified to work here.” Mic agreed enthusiastically, Midnight doubled-down on the notion saying she could verify the information. Most importantly, what you said captured Aizawa’s attention.

“And you have time to do this during your investigation?” Nezu asked. 

“I’ll make time.” Nezu seemed pleased with the answer and he started writing something in his notepad. That’s when you remembered what he said earlier. The principal wasn’t making the final decision. You sauntered closer to the homeroom teachers. “Eraser, we were in the same class. You know I do great work. I’m sure you’re doing fine on your own, but if you let me do my research here, your students will excel in the exams. I’ll make sure of it.”

Aizawa considered your offer. Regardless of whatever you two had, you two will never be friends like you used to. Both of you destroyed that bridge and the foundation withered to dust. It didn’t matter if you two hated each other now or not. You could be professional. You could play nice. Sentiment would never work on him. Eraser Head needed a logical choice.

“Fine with me,” Eraser huffed. 

The grin on your face got bigger. 

Behind you the Principal asks for Vlad’s opinion. “If Aizawa wants Strife as an advisor that’s on him, but I'll stand by what I said earlier. If I’m not around, I don’t want her around my students.” You knew that was coming, but he didn’t matter. Soon after he spoke, the teachers put your investigation’s approval to a vote. When the result was clear Nezu spoke up. “Well then, it looks like Strife’s first day as Provisional License Advisor starts today.”

Taglist:

@lonelyghosts-stuff

[minobe-household]

i never posted the spirit breathing thing, did i

(under the cut because holy FUCK the old lady just LOVES making up shit)

(last updated 03/04/2024)

breath of spirit is a technique bearing several forms in two separate series. the first series, established when its founder was first employed, serves to support and defend allies through creating openings for others to attack through distracting or disorienting the opponent while blocking or evading oncoming offense. although there is only one known user, certain forms of spirit breathing's first series can be seen in use by other slayers in practice of other techniques.

on the other hand, the second series, more recently established, has more of an independent offensive focus, likely due to the founder's isolation during the time of which it was developed. they are based on the use of a polearm as opposed to the usual katana, and thus the forms are considered unusable to most except its creator. it is only used by the founder, minobe yuuto. though uh... cough cough.... feel free to change that..... cough cough cough...

it is considered to be quite a difficult technique to master due to the extremely small window for error it allows - most notably so in the second series. almost all forms require incredible control over the body for its strict need in precision and quick deduction. additionally, a crucial element to succeed in its uses relies on the flunctuation between both normal physical prowess and the enhanced performance that comes with total concentration, as well as switching between several different general methods of action - something that can take a lot of conscious processing and strrss on the body by extension.

also, fun fact. breath of spirit is not an actual breathing style; it is moreso a strategy of movement. it was developed off of what its founder, minobe yuuto, observed in the ways of various other demon slayers to complement their respective manner of combat, therefore lacking a direct derivative. the nichirin steel of her blade appears to be a mute silver, and lacks the luster seen in the weaponry of other breathing style users.

goes without saying these forms are subject to change, they've shifted around and i've added/taken stuff out all the time. the small text serves as notes, just to give extra context to visual and function :-)

first series

first form: corporeal passing - similar to mist breathing's "obscuring clouds". user fluctuates in speed, repositioning constantly between their current location and surrounding area to give off the illusion that their body cannot be hit.

revised: corporeal passing, reappearance - same prospect, but another step is added to reposition the user.

looks like the user just goes away and reappears usually, but yuuto dodges at such a short increment from a strike that it quite literally makes it look like she's incorporeal and the attack just phased through her. also revision form visually is pretty much just teleportation. "*teleports behind you* nothing personell... kid...." type shit

second form: exorcism seal - the user moves their blade in an upward-circular motion to build momentum and performs a powerful slash, capable of deflecting or severely weakening oncoming attacks.

revised: hands of onusa - the user incorporates multiple slashes into their movement for a wider range.

still entirely possible with a katana, but it's naturally a little more risky in terms of keeping the weapon in one piece due to the higher blade ratio. important note that a lot of the blockage is done with the base rather than the blade with the polearm specifically.

third form: immaterial anguish - the user feigns an offensive move, charging towards the target only to avoid their body and land behind them or elsewhere. initial use was to temporarily disorient an enemy for a window to escape, but is most often presently used as a lead-in for an actual attack.

when yuuto does it, it makes it seem like the user phased through the target. if you couldn't guess, practically all demons refuse to take yuuto's bullshit seriously but with some of these forms, her words might just come off as truth.

fourth form: body-exit delirium - the user assumes a lower stance and uses either side of their blade to sweep or otherwise throw off their target. used in means of both moving the target and the user themself, dependent on the situation. 

also used as a lead-in.

fifth form: scavenger's hidden corpse - the user backs away at high speed before halting their breathing, temporarily rendering their disposition much weaker in order to force the target to change their course of action.

often paired with recovery breathing as a temporary retreat.

sixth form: all in soul's wake - similar to water breathing's "splashing water flow, turbulent". the user adjusts their footwork and breathing to reduce their time on surfaces to a minimum while maintaining momentum.

may allow landing on objects otherwise impossible to use as a ledge, though it is difficult to pull off in such circumstances.

seventh form: subject to the misaki-wind - the user uses the rotational momentum of their weapon to land several smaller-scale slices covering a wide area of the target, while building up for a stronger attack.

meant to serve as distraction or mislead, but in my little headcanons as to how demons work biologically, it's also used to divert regeneration to an extent through primal instinct. move name is based off of an actual saying that essentially just refers to catching illness!

eighth form: holy elixir - the user performs a heavy blunt hit, thrusting an infused wooden dagger into the target from the opposite side.

revised: drunken arrows - in the instance of which base form is unreasonable to perform, the user only grazes the target, typically causing paralysis or disorientation within the target depending on its blood intake.

this is the only form that explicitly required the use of the dagger, which otherwise is used interchangeably with a detatched blade. also the only move in the first series that is actually purposed towards the kill.

second series

curse of bakemono: dance among shifters - the user focuses their energy entirely into their movement, flunctuating in speed sporadically as they approach the target in a manner that makes it hard for their location to be pinpointed. once seen fit, the user makes a single, high-power cut.

visibly, comparable to afterimages. sort of a modification of the first form except offensive. may incorporate multiple strikes in some situations.

curse of mitama: reunion of the vessel - the user quickly circles about the target and pivots their weapon to perform four consecutive slashes that weave into one another, all varying slightly in trajectory.

forces the target to remain still for a few moments to minimize injury. typically used with highly mobile/evasive targets.

curse of tsukumogami: the user throws part of their weapon towards their target and charges towards them, still armed with a detached end.

firstborn to the earth - should the handle be grabbed or implanted within the target, the user weaves beside it, using the handle as a safe ledge to grab as they attack from behind.

inevitabilities through one hundred years - should the handle be deflected, the user will swerve directly towards it, combining the use of the seventh form to twist their body and perform a single powerful strike.

this one is a bit weird since that the two moves aren't really revisions, as neither serve as the original form. it's like curse of kodama in the sense that what the target does is what determines the move. usually yuuto's too busy being yuuto and only says part of the move name (# form/curse of x) though so it doesn't really matter anyways

curse of ikiryō: fate's eye - the user unleashes a small sequence of predictable attacks in order to prompt the target to dodge, to which they put themself in place of a deviating slash strengthened by the built up momentum.

the duration of the sequence can vary a lot. if what would be the hit to land fails, she usually just continues. it's just an ongoing barrage until either she makes a blow or sees an alternative.

curse of kodama : song of whispering leaves - the user, either stationary or mobile, utilizes the cut-off momentum of a defensive block or parry to propel themself upwards, unleashing a flurry of circular slashes from above.

revised: shimenawa, untethering - rather than move themself, the user rotates their blade around the opposing force as a pivot to strike from the other side. typically seen if the user fails to cut off target's attack as intended.

based on target initiative. also not a form variation but if her weapon is ensnared or grabbed sometimes she kind of just does a stick suplex lmao

curse of onryō : slit-mouthed demon - the user uses their weapon as a hook, typically piercing through the face of its target to move them either in defensive or offensive lead-in. (alternatively possible with the spiked end, though not as well carried out due to its structure.)

revised: nails to the elder tree - same prospect, but targeting the body or oncoming attack.

typically a follow-up to a target's predicted movement, but can be used in initiative. note that the base form is not as effective with weaker demons, as their flesh isn't yet as dense; the revision form is the alternative for such a case. this one's the easiest in terms of japanese names - it's quite literally '"kuchisake-oni"... as opposed to "onna"... i'm so good at naming you guys /sc

final form: izanami no mikoto, the thousand destined dead - a last resort attack. the user heavily adjusts their footwork as well as general course of attack, switching from evasion to full offense imperceptibly to make one thousand strikes in a rapid succession.

induces a lot of stress on the lungs and body, and is likely to cause severe exhaustion and/or damage to the user. as a last resort, this is typically only used when yuuto sees she already has to withdraw at some point. however... there comes a time when things end up working a liiiiiittle differently due to the nuances of a certain ailment of hers..... :^)

[usmsgutterson]

The Fire That Burns Within- N.L x fem! reader Chapter Seven

Masterlist

Okay! Seventh chapter here we are, which puts us just a bit away from halfway through this fic! I’ve mostly been editing and queueing prewritten chapters (hello from yesterday lol) from when I was motivated to write a good amount, but still! This series has been a blast to write and I’m glad that people have been liking it!

As for people who have asked (I promise, I’m not ignoring you, I just had a moment where I went ‘I’ll respond to this later’ and then completely forgot and never did) this fic does not and will not have a tag list! If a lot of people want me to though, I can add a tag list to the masterlist, tag lists just aren’t typically my thing and I knew I wasn’t going to do one with this fic.

Fic type- there’s a good amount of bickering between Nikolai and the reader, but the end of this fic has a hurt/comfort-y turn, so hurt/comfort it is. 

Warnings- mentions of death, mentions of slavery (in regards to grisha, slavers/slavery and indentures are discussed)

“I’ve developed a plan for finances,” Nikolai said two days later. The two days to follow had been much the same, your exchanging jabs and debating back and forth over financial issues whilst you wandered the corridors, growing as familiar with the corridors of the Spinning Wheel as you had once been with the corridors of the Little Palace. “What’s next?” 

“The Grisha,” you said, having not had the strength to debate with him that day. You were tired, itching for a fight, wanting to know just how much more it would take before the Darkling discovered the Spinning Wheel and launched an attack. Every place had it’s leaks, and you found yourself wanting to know where the Spinning Wheels leak was located more and more with the days that passed you by. 

“I admit that I am biased here, but I do implore you to go seeking alternate perspectives if that is what you desire,” you suggested. “The Grisha is the next place you should look if you are no longer looking at ways to improve Ravkas financial status.” 

“Where have we gone wrong in that regard?”

“I have heard your mother and father both call Grisha witches,” you said. “Like they’re Druskelle. A prejudice against us exists in the palaces where we are trained. I’ve heard it from several First Army officers in my walks. We mean no harm, and we certainly do not mean to be harmful by simply existing. Put in laws against slavery and the discovery of slave trades.”

“Those laws already exist.” 

“And they could definitely use a bit of tweaking. Seek the slavers out, imprison them. Make the punishment hanging.”

“I cannot just–”

“Ravka is seen as a safe haven for Grisha,” you said. “But it is typically that to Ravkans who were enslaved or indentured. It is seen as that to the occasional desperate Grisha in Fjerda, to the ones being hunted down in Shu Han and the Wandering Isle, to the Grisha who are fleeing the war as it continues now and unknowingly getting themselves stuck in indentures with ridiculous contracts to pay off in Ketterdam. It is a safe haven to those groups, and them only. If you make the punishment for slave trading as bad as the punishment for something such as treason, it can only have a decent outcome.”

“Such as?”

“Ravkan Grisha feeling safe when they walk the streets which you are to govern. Grisha from places like Novyi Zem and Ketterdam actively seeking out the Little Palace so that they can learn how to master their small sciences.”

“There will always be the Druskelle to hunt them.”

“That is the unfortunate truth,” you agreed. “Grisha are always at risk with those wretched ice demons in their sights, but tightening the laws around slavers and the punishments they get will at least make Ravka feel safer. The curriculum can be revised after the war and Druskelle specific tactics and fighting techniques can be a unit of study. Zoya says she had someone in her charge that knew every bloody language she could get her hands on, and knew how to fight a Druskelle like it was easy as breathing. We educate on the power of the Druskelle, teach them how to fight against it and defend themselves, and you will have at least begun to right a mistake made by your father and his father and all of the cretins throughout the rest of your bloodline.” 

“So,” Nikolai said. “Finance my way out of one hundred fifty million dollars in debt in the next seven years with festivals, galas, palace tours and a public coronation with charged entry, and tighten laws surrounding slavers while putting more effort into educating Grisha on how to spot a bulky Druskelle. Is that all my family has messed up?”

“There’s more, Prince Nikolai. There is always more.” 

“You say that and then refuse to tell me?”

You’d taken a sharp turn, found a door that lead to a stairwell. “Of course,” you nodded. “I like to keep you on your toes, Prince.” 

Nikolai had no rebuttal. You did not hear his footsteps behind yours, and you knew he’d objected to simply watch you walk away.

-

Genya found you on a terrace, a mug of warm cider tucked into your hands and balanced on your knees. You were sitting on the terrace, surrounded by the snow and in a pair of trousers that had been leant to you by Zoya while yours went through the laundry, a black roughspun tunic visible due to the fact that your kefta had slipped off both shoulders. You had your beloved combat boots on your feet, and it seemed like you were zoned out, like you had retreated into your own mind. 

“I hate Fjerda,” you said, having picked up the familiar sound of Genyas gait in the snow. “I hate it. I hate this place, the lift that bumps and moves in fits and starts, the salted herring and the constant cold. I resent Nikolai and I resent the fact that I am beginning to resent him less.” 

It was a step up, she knew. You still hated Nikolai, but you hated him less than before. That was an improvement.

“You’ll stay, won’t you?” Genya asked. “Sergei has just left. Don’t tell me you’re leaving, too.” 

“I wouldn’t,” you said. “I hate the snow. I hate the prince. I hate that cursed lift with every bone in my body.”

Genya understood instantly. If you left at that moment, if you packed up your bags and left the Spinning Wheel and stowed away on a cargo ship bound somewhere like Ketterdam, you would have felt terrible. Leaving your friends and the people you loved like family felt as terrible as the idea of returning to the side of the Darkling, even if that wasn’t what you were doing.

“I know you wouldn’t,” she said. “Zoya knows you wouldn’t. Alina and Nikolai are glad that they have another reliable Inferni in the fight against the Darkling.”

“You would be okay if I did leave, right?”

“After the civil war, you can go wherever you want. You can go to Ketterdam or Novyi Zem, you can try your luck in the Wandering Isle, even. You can do whatever you want after the civil war. All I need is a place to which I can send correspondence.”

“And you–”

“I wouldn’t hate you if you left,” Genya said. She came and sat down next to you, snorted when she noticed your flint in your hand, the glow in your eyes. You were using your small science to keep your cider from going cold. “I would be fine, and you would be fine, and we would not hate each other because that is not who we are.” 

“That is not who we are,” you nodded. “I just–I love Ravka, but–”

“But the Lantsovs–” were a trainwreck and a half. 

“Yeah. The Lantsovs.” 

Genya laughed, and you laughed, and Genya stole your cup and took a sip of your cider. You summoned a contained flame to a patch in the ground and took the cup back, shooting Genya a pointed look as you took a long sip from the mug. 

Genya rested her head against your shoulder, wrapped an arm around your waist. You pressed your cheek against the top of her head.

“We are not our wounds,” she said. “We cannot be.” 

“If we cannot be, then we won’t,” you said. “We’ll survive the war. We’ll go home, grieve our losses, repair our keftas and hold our funerals. We’ll say prayers to our saints and shed the tears we held back in favor of picking up a sword, and we will make it through this.” 

Genya wanted to cry. You wanted to cry. Neither of you shed a tear. 

“We’ll make it through this,” she said. “We’ll make it through this.”

“We will,” you said. “We will, because we have to and because we want to. We will fight for our country. The Darkling does not get to win. Never again.” 

“Never again,” Genya echoed.

The two of you stayed on that balcony for a long time, your flint pressed against the side of your mug as you summoned your small science to keep your cider warm. You and Genya passed the mug back and forth, talked idly of childhood memories and the different ways the war could end. 

[wildoceanstarz]

The Valkyries friendships

Someone asked about it and i got way too much into it so i'm also making separate posts lol (you can find the original post here)

【 Lily & Marlene: 】

Meeting

They met in their dorms room. At first, they both didn’t reach out to the others, realizing they were way too different, and so most the first year was spent as just them being agreeable roommates.

Lily thought Marlene was kind of overwhelming and also friend with the marauders so she didn’t really have a good opinion of her, and Marlene thought Lily was just a little teacher pet, always in her books and super boring.

Toward the end of first year, Lily stood up against a Slytherin as Marlene was passing by and that made her realize there was maybe more to Lily Evans than she knew. She helped her escape before a teacher could see her and pushing her for hexing a student, and from there on they were on way more friendly terms.

When they came back for second year, Marlene couldn’t sit with James and Peter since the marauders sat together and so as she was looking for another spot, Mary and Lily invited her to sit with them (and Severus). They had a nice train ride back and in the end started the year on a way better note. They grew really closer in the second year.

Dynamic

For me, even though they’re really opposite, they have a lot of similarities. They both have family expectations to reach and a lot of pressure to do good in class, even though they have a very different studying technique. Marlene doesn’t need to revise all that much, but sometimes towards final she would sit with Lily and help her study by talking about the subject with her.

They didn’t really have an academic rivalry, as the subjects Marlene was getting the best scores in were really different from Lily’s; both being more interested in different classes.

They weren’t the closest, but they had an understanding of each other’s that Mary sometimes didn’t fully understand. When one of them would receive a letter from their family, they would often divert the attention of the group so the others can read in piece, or escape to not cry in public.

They never got really emotional with each other’s, mostly venting angrily than getting sad. Lily actually had more context on why Marlene was crying than Mary, even though Mary was the one seeing Marlene cry.

They grew closer when the war happened, both being in the order, but Lily had a deeper belief in Dumbledore than Marlene.

They were each other’s first kiss, but never told anyone and kept the secret to their graves (lol). It just happened one day when they were like 12 and curious and it was the smallest peck ever. It was basically an accident as they fell on the floor and kissed on the way down. They both never talked about it, and acted as if nothing happened.

Lily would always bully Marlene for being friend with James, and she wouldn’t really have anything to say for her defence because James grew super obnoxious after meeting Sirius.

Marlene invited Lily to her house one summer, and the red haired developed a summer crush on her older brother. She would always ask Marlene to talk about him in letters after that and the other girl would always make a show of being disgusted. By the time summer rolled over, Lily had gotten bored and so it ended as that. (She still, however, has the quidditch magazines and posters of him that she bought hiding under her bed, including one that she forced Marlene to ask her brother to sign for her)

Angst

There really don’t really have school angst.

Lily was devastated after Marlene death and was really out of it for a while after that. She’s the one who had to organize the funeral because Dorcas was so out of it. For a week, the black girl lived at their house and they would sleep in the same bed talking about Marlene. After the funeral, Lily never went to the cemetery again.

Their song:

They would sing Jolene ironically to each other’s all the time. The first time they heard the song they thought it was funny because Jolene kind of sounded like Marlene and the auburn hair could be Lily. The moment the song would start playing they were on the dance floor singing to the other. Sometimes they would point at Mary or James, joking that the other was taking them away.

[nixalegos]

You want to improve your grasp on thaumaturgical infusions along bone and living tissue. But there is work to be done, and only so much time in a day. Surviving Cult of the Damned are reported sighted along the fringes of the Western Plaguelands, doing their best to sneak back into locations said to be in recovery. Go be a hero. You bring along an annotated and revised copy of the Grimoire of Rejectnos Necrosium. Trounce, rout, slay, pilfer, and wreck the emergent cultists hideout. Allow one, sometimes two to 'escape'. Any more is a failure condition. Take all other materials, research results, and destroy anything else that might be of competing interest or you cannot personal carry. Tuck the Grimoire of Rejectnos Necrosium among the now pilfered 'ruins' of their old goods, make pains to have it appear it miraculously survived your own pilfering. Leave, but leave a scrying eye and recording spider in the vicinity. Go turn in your quest rewards hero. All in a days work. Allow the survivors to claim the Grimoire of Rejectnos Necrosium from the wreckage. Follow and watch as they have to rebuild their efforts and research from this singular tome, thus, have to build from these techniques. Allow anywhere between six weeks to six months to pass, but no more then six months. Too much time established and dug in, and you run the risk they'll pose actual threats. Hire a goon to report the cults sightings to the local authorities. Allow them to set up a bounty for adventuring heroes to claim. 'Arrive' shortly. Go be a hero. Trounce, rout, slay, pilfer, and wreck the cultists hideout. Claim the annotated and newly revised copy of the Grimoire of Rejectnos Necrosium. You will enjoy reading and learning what advancements were made and recorded with no effort or time wasted on your part. You want to improve your grasp on theoretical anima imbuement along Maldraxxus styled body snatching. But there is work to be done, and only so much time in a day.

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Happy STS! I'm curious about Shattered Dreams, since I still don't know too much about it and you say it's your first major piece of writing! How would you say it differs from Hidden Depths, and how is it similar? Is there anything you learned in the course of writing and posting Hidden Depths that's informing the other WIP as you now revise/edit/continue writing? Anything you're enjoying more, or enjoying less? Anything else interesting you can tell us?

Happy STS! Thank you for the ask, Claire!

Oooh, what a fun question! First off, I'm not sure if you've seen my WIP intro, but if not, there it is :)

Okay, this is long, so under the cut it goes lol

Differences and Similarities

So Hidden Depths is set in the same world of Shattered Dreams, approximately 5-ish years prior to the events in the novel. I use the same third person, character-centric style of writing, I've centered my story around two characters, which seems to be a sweet spot for me, and it's still essentially a love story at its core. They are both captivity stories that deal heavily with trauma and recovery from trauma.

Shattered Dreams differs in that I had the time and space for a lot more worldbuilding and complex plotting than I did in Hidden Depths. Now, did I do it well? Meh, going through on this editing pass, I'm noticing more info-dumping than I'd like, so I'm cleaning that up.

Hidden Depths I didn't have that kind of time for. Maybe if I'd started writing more than 3 days before the start of the event, but uh. I didn't. So I started in media res, which I actually ended up liking quite a bit, and I learned a new writing technique!

It also differs in that with Shattered Dreams, I was trying to write the kind of love story I wished I was capable of and where physical affection was important and sought after (I literally made physical touch a basic need for an entire species-they can't go too long without or they'll go crazy lol).

Whereas with Hidden Depths, I wrote the kind of love story more true to my recently discovered aroace-self. It's still an idealization, of course, with an over exaggeration of certain characteristics, but it's been really nice and somewhat cathartic to write.

Learning

Ahh, the learning. Well, the more you write, the better you get, right? So there was that. I could tell writing Hidden Depths that I'd improved beyond what I'd written in Shattered Dreams, which was a really cool thing for me. It made me feel really proud. (and kinda embarrassed when I reread Shattered Dreams bc I'd sent it out for beta 😅)

I definitely learned a lot more about whump writing, and you can bet that I'm using that in my edits to flesh out scenes that were rather vague (or create new ones all together!) bc I was either afraid of the response or just didn't have the depth of knowledge to really do it justice.

I learned that just because I can write explicit sexy time scenes doesn't mean I have to :D especially if they already made me uncomfy to start. Basically I toned them down, because I didn't hold anything back the first go around lol. Maybe they can be bonus scenes so all my hard work doesn't go to waste XD

Just by being here on tumblr, I've learned a lot more about queer and disabled representation, which is not something that I had a lot of exposure to before. I am definitely going to implementing some of that knowledge in Shattered Dreams if I can!

Interesting stuff

Ummm. This has gotten pretty long already lol. Let's see... Alaia and Serin, the two main protagonists, were never meant to be together; he was just a side character I made bc captivity with one character is boring as hell. Well, that went to shit, he ended up as a POV character, and now has an entire character arc I have to write lol. The way these things happen, huh lol.

[linkspooky]

Sooooo ya planning to create any more OCs for your future jjk fics?

Just wondering, totally not because all your OCs in your jjk have been interesting, human, complex, and emotional touching to me… 👉👈

Just kidding… they totally did. I loved them!

Thank you so much for sending this anon your positive feedback means the absolute world to me and encourages me to write. Sure, anon there are two OCs I am planning to either introduce or give more screentime in future fics.

One thing is Ocs are primarily there in my fics either to provide perspective on the main characters, foil them in some way, or serve as rivals / antagonists because I like to write fics that are like self-contained arcs that could appear in story or revisions of arcs that already happened. So like a lot of my ocs are formed around canon characters in order to contrast them which is why they are going to show up in future fics that choose to focus on those specific characters. So, ummmm!!! Here is a guy.

Commission by @ / Moedredd

He has technically already made an appearance in Three's Company, which is the fourth fic in the series and the prequel to werewolf. Uh, if Exponential Decay -> Exponential Growth -> Butterfly Curve are a set of three then it'd be Three's Company -> Werewolf -> Zenin Massacre Rewrite.

His name is Sigma (full name Shigema Kamo). His cursed technique is the ability to switch left and right, which is why he fights with two swords. He uses that in conjunction with new shadow style simple domain in order to counter domains. He has an innature cursed technique, but no cursed energy to use that technique. The reason why is because he was born with a heavenly restriction, he and his sister share all of their cursed energy. He can't use any cursed energy unless his sister supplies him with some. If his sister isn't there he may as well be fighting with cheap swords he bought at walmart.

But, eleven years ago his sister died. She only exists now as the remaining cursed energy she left behind as a gift for him (similiar to Rika and Yuta / Maki and Mai) so he is wielding his literal loved one as a weapon. He was also apprehended by Geto / Gojo / Shoko after he went rogue but instead of being executed he was passed onto Tsukumo Yuki who wanted to study his heavenly restriction.

Basically, he is going to make a reappearance in the first part of the Zenin Family Massacre arc fic where Yuta and Maki go to recruit Hakari while Megumi is sent to negotiate with the Zenin Clan. He is a foil for both Maki and Yuta, both as a bad end for Maki (what if there was nothing remaining of your sister in this world but a weapon and a desire to avenge them) and also for Yuta as they are both the nicest guys in the world until they lose their loved ones.

He's also connected to Choso which is why his last name is Kamo. I don't want to spoil anything, but Noranso is also going to make a reapparance in the first part of this same fic.

Commission by @ hollycircling

This Is Lio/Li/Lia, they're not nearly as developed as Sigma because they are meant to exist post Zenin Massacre arc and they are an oc for the culling games

The idea behind them is that they are the sole survivor of the Zenin Massacre besides Maki who is the killer, and Mai who gets revived basically by mistake. Maki didn't notice that they were still alive and didn't bother to finish them off. They're based on the idea that the Zenin Family Massacre is in fact a massacre, not everyone Maki killed was culpable for her abuse. It's like Geto slaughtering an entire village not everyone in that village made the decision to put kids in a cage even if Geto was rightfully angry at the perpetrators.

Like the protagonist of one story, can be a villain to another story. Li's life was not particularly good either, but they're feelings for their parents were incredibly complex and they didn't want them to die but it wasn't just their parents it was also their little siblings. (I am going with like Geto levels with Maki's massacre, she was thorough she wanted to erase them.) Li wasn't an especially hateful to begin with they were just a funky little closeted trans dude. In fact I'm floating around the idea that Maki, and Mai actually got along with them slightly better when they were children. Basically, they don't like the Zenin family either. And some part of it is liberating that they can finally start presenting themselves the way they want to now that they don't exist inside of the repressive structure of the Zenin and are no longer pressured to become a sorcerer and yet given this chance to live their own life the way they want they can't let go of the desire to see justice for their siblings. At the same time literally everyone they knew in their whole life is dead including their little siblings (they were the eldest) and that essentially turns them into Sasuke Uchiha.

Cycle of revenge stories fascinate me when you take a neutral view on it, instead of centering justice around the main character's POV. LIke, what if the person who wants revenge against you, has just as much reason to want revenge as you did? What makes your revenge more valid than their revenge? In this case Lio is after Maki for taking their little siblings away and Mai was the catalyst for Maki exterminating the Zenin. All of this is also kind of based off the idea that Quentin Tarantino originally planned a sequel for Kill Bill where the girl who's mother was killed right in front of her by the bride spends the whole movie hunting down the bride.

[waitinguntilnovember]

a non-romanticized day in the life of a jobless artist/writer high school student

12pm: around this time, I was able to wake up. I have very bad insomnia, which does not mix well with going to school at 8am, but thankfully yesterday was a Saturday, so I could sleep in.

12:30-1pm: I made myself a coffee with almond milk and plant-based creamer and no breakfast because I find it very hard to eat when I wake up. Because all of my mugs ran out (thanks, mom, for stealing my favorite one) I had to use a short glass cup. I have an easily sick stomach and I'm lactose intolerant but honestly, I still have cookies and milk at 3am when I'm writing. Screw my nausea.

1-7pm: I spend my daylight rotting in bed, doing god knows what. One minute I'm watching a nice cozy art vlog looking for inspiration and the next I'm upstairs making cereal as my only meal of the day and then going back into my cave. There will be short 5-minute intervals between where I'll take snacks or socialize with my family, but I always make it back to my room, stuck to my laptop. I might sneak in a quick one-line poem I thought of and frantically look for a pencil to write it in my notebook. I might think of a random idea for a book or painting. These hours are spent doing absolutely nothing but simultaneously everything at the same time.

7-11pm: painting is my #1 healthy outlet besides writing. I try to paint almost every free day I have to calm myself down when things get rough mentally. Yesterday, I painted a branch with flowers on a small canvas. It wasn't much, but I like it anyway. With insomnia, it's like everything is obscured or blurry, so having these things to keep me on track is very nice.

11pm-around 5:30ish am: at later hours, I write. I spent as much time as I possibly could writing. I find my mind is much more active, or creative, in this time period. Most of the time when I say I'm going to write, I end up editing and revising previous paragraphs. It's a habit I need to work on. What I'm working on right now is a short novel that is told through therapy sessions, where the main character is spiraling slowly with each chapter and has a very warped view of life. A lot of the experiences the main character has come from my own. I'm figuring out a few rough details but I have the plot completed as well as the precise timeline and writing technique I'm going for. If I do end up publishing this, I don't want to put spoilers on Tumblr, so don't expect much out of me relating to this subject.

About 6am: I finally start to feel tired after staring at my ceiling for about 20 or 30 minutes. It takes a bit longer to actually fall asleep after this.

Today, at around 12pm again: I woke up and did the same 12-1pm routine. After, I spent about 30 minutes rereading and only slightly editing my writing from the night before.

.・。.・゜✭・.

Everybody goes through hard points in their life where romanticizing can't make it better. Right now, I'm struggling a lot with my personal health and it's affecting my life and making my mental health so much worse. The passing of midterms this last week has been a great help with my gentle recovery this weekend, as I've finally been able to rest, but I still find even in my relaxed, comfortable state I manage to be stressed out.

And that's able to be dealt with.

I know that most people crumbled under their own pressure like I am with mine, and they made it out. I believe once the season changes and the school depression passes along, I can have my healthier version of this lifestyle back. I will be able to eat meals during the day and go out with my friends without coming home drained. But, unfortunately, all of this takes time.

Do not expect your change to come the moment you set your mind to it.

It's a gradual change. In your sleeping schedule, your moods, your eating habits, everything-- it can't be achieved in one day. If you want to see results, you will have to work and wait for them.

I know there will be moments when it gets even harder, and you feel like you almost need to be sad to feel something, but please trust me when I say that is not the answer. You can experience something other than that zombie-like blankness you feel every day.

Please realize it takes time to feel it, though. And do not give that up if you think it won't work.

.・。.・゜✭・.

Remember that my inbox is always open if you need someone to talk to. I'm a stranger over the internet, I'm faceless, I will tell nobody, not a soul. I promise you that you will always have someone to talk to after seeing this post. Do not think otherwise ever again.

[thepilgrimbetweenworlds]

Antiverse Revised Character Profile: Dark Matter

Going to make this quick since I have work. I'm trying to pick up the pace before my procrastination funk kicks in again. So, here's the first revised profile for the Antitrix aliens, starting with...

(EDIT: Added a power I think would be very fitting for Dark Matter).

Dark Matter

Donor Name: Asystolus

Age: 95 (Chronologically) 53 (Biologically)

Species: Galvan

Birthplace: Galvan Prime (Antiverse)

Hair: None

Eyes: Red

Height: 7ft 2in

Weight: 192 lbs.

Powers/Abilities:

-Surgical expertise: Asystolus was one hell of a surgeon, and now that knowledge is put to good use. As Dark Matter, Kevin can recall an immense number of unorthodox techniques in case he ever needs to fix himself up.

-Anatomical knowledge: When he wasn’t healing people, Asystolus was cutting them open. And as a point of shame, he learned to do it well. Dark Matter can ravage his opponents thanks to an innate sense of their anatomical weak spots.

-Extreme flexibility: If you thought Dark Matter looked creepy before, he’s about to go full Voldo on your ass. His body has been surgically altered with artificial cartilage and ligaments, allowing him to bend and twist like a ragdoll, at the cost of easily taxing himself into exhaustion.

-Vampiric Hematophagy: Don't ask where all the red stuff came from. Dark Matter can consume blood for a temporary energy boost. A series of sensory organs along his neck and nose allow Dark Matter to detect the scent of blood from nearly a mile away.

Physical Description: Unlike his frog like counterpart Grey Matter, Dark Matter’s appearance invokes predatory birds. The two dull protrusions on his head can be likened to the feathered points of a Great horned owl, and alterations to his neck allow him to turn it 180 degrees. He sports a heavy brow and heavily wrinkly face, which add to this curmudgeon's elderly attitude. His arms and legs are disproportionately long compared to his somewhat compact torso, all of which are covered in a series of surgical scars. His musculature is lean and somewhat sinewy, and his dark grey skin is tinted by slight purple-ish veins. Each of his four fingered hands are tipped with retractable scalpels. The Antitrix symbol is located on his spine.

Backstory: Asystolus was once a highly respected surgeon, but such achievements are not to be admired in the Antiverse. As a student on Galvan Prime, Asystolus learned his craft by experimenting on live subjects, many of whom were tortured during these barbaric “lessons.” He excelled in his studies and became exceptionally skilled in the field of surgical alteration, with many less-than-reputable-beings coming to Galvan Prime just to acquire his services. But as the years passed, the old Galvan grew desensitized, then regretful of the exploitative nature of his work. After numerous attempts to bring more humane methods to Galvan Prime failed, Asystolus was branded a traitor and exiled. He was content to live his life as a traveling surgeon until Vilgax heard of his exceptional skills…

Personality: Asystolus is at times quite the grumpy curmudgeon, even after being reformed. He is a firm pessimist and is quickly annoyed by people thanks to his solitary nature. He is quite snarky and sarcastic for his age, owed in part to a lingering sense of guilt and self-loathing. He feels remorseful for the fact that he used his talents in service to himself, often at the expense of other beings.

Influence on Kevin: Asystolus’s grumpy personality makes Kevin irritable and sarcastic when he transforms into Dark Matter.

Trivia:

-His neck and upper chest are quite sensitive, and he’ll often massage those areas as a form of self-therapy.

[princeescaluswords]

I appreciate your willingness to come to the conclusion that your hypothesis is wrong if the research leads you there, I just don’t want to see your otherwise well-supported work undermined by a premise that reaches beyond the evidence you have. 4/4

Well, it's a matter of experience, to be quite honest. I've found that operating with the awareness that I could be quite wrong to be a vital part of my intellectual life. Of course, the history I've read has shown me that all the most accomplished thinkers got things wrong, so I shouldn't let being wrong discourage me, but it's not only that.

No one wants to be wrong, especially in the public sphere, so everyone works to avoid it. There seems to be two major categories of how people approach that avoidance. Some people work extra hard to make sure they have the evidence to go along with their conviction. They try to employ logic, establish definitions, and keep standards among other techniques of debate and inquiry. Above all, when they are wrong -- and they will be -- they acknowledge it and then revise their position. This is progress.

And then there are those who simply refuse to admit the possibility. They obfuscate, they equivocate, they employ ad hominem, they dig the hole deeper, or they pretend they never said the thing proven wrong in the first place. One of the things that I grapple with on this site is the fact that many of the BNF that I've clashed with have made outrageous predictions (the Anakin Theory, the Whole Series is an Unreliable Narration, the Mirror World, the Schism, the Evil Tree Wizard, Clone Derek) and have never, ever turned around and said, "Okay, I was wrong." Even if they manage to mention it sotto voce, they don't let this new information revise their opinions. They carry on with the same agenda.

I don't want to be like the second group. As time passed, their actual arguments have drifted farther and farther from interacting with the thing that they're supposed to be talking about, until their discourse has created its own little self-sustaining pocket universe, one that has no rigor or insight because it's about itself and itself alone. I want to talk about the thing in and of itself.

Humility is a good virtue to possess. I've found it actually strengthens me in my life by allowing me to compensate for my own weaknesses before they overthrow me. Quite frankly, I need more of it.

[beforeiread-studies]

Some post exam season considerations

I concluded my 2022-23 Winter exam season last Monday. It was a success. I passed all of the 5 exams I had set for myself to pass.

And yes, I passed one badly and not knowing how to answer the questions during the exam was mortifying and I sometimes still flinch while remembering particularly excruciating moments but who cares? As I've already said, the negative feelings shall pass and the 12 credits shall remain.

(and also, there is probably something to be said about the relationship between passing all of my exams brilliantly and my self-worth but I'm not ready to stare into that abyss yet so, moving on)

Overall I'm really proud of myself for accomplishing my goal of passing all 5 exams. High-five me!

But while I've won a campaign, the war is not over yet. The new semester, my last uni semester, is about to start and I better be prepared. So here are some things I can learn from this exam season to do even better during the next one:

I got the highest grades during the first 3 exams. After that I lost steam and objectively I had left the hardest exams last so that didn't help either. So next semester I should schedule the toughest exams first and make sure that I take some kind of break after the first 3 exams.

It was really great when exam n.3 came around and I realized that I had already read and summarized the whole bibliography before Christmas so I only needed to quickly revise my notes and go. That would have helped a lot with exam n.4 as well. So this semester I want to read the bibliography for ALL EXAMS before exam season starts (starting with the History exam).

Studying German a bit every day saved my ass when the exam (n. 2) came around. So I want to keep doing that + adding some Portuguese to my daily routine as well (but not so that I'll get overwhelmed like it happened last semester).

I won't feel guilty because I don't revise my notes every day/week because that simply doesn't work for me so I shouldn't even try. Instead, I'll write up my notes on my computer after the end of the lectures and use the "blurting" technique for studying them.

These tips will be even more important this semester because I'll have not 4, not 5, but 6 exams! So I better go put them into practice now :)

[scary-senpai]

For the fanfic ask game...I can't actually decide. XD How about any two of your choice?

Ahh! Thank you so much bestie <3 I really appreciate you dropping an ask. I did not get to this on Tuesday because brain melt (!), but seeing you in my notifications made me smile <3<4

You also get a third bonus question because You Are Great.

(link to fanfic ask game is here--feel free to drop a note! asks are my love language)

C: What character do you identify with most?

Garou. I've always gravitated towards overtly angry, troublesome male characters and I've recently come to suspect it has something to do with gender: growing up, I felt a lot of anger/frustration/confusion over my identity (not my gender identity, necessarily, but more like How to Human as an Autistic person). To navigate this, I over-corrected by confirming to whatever my idea of femininity was, in the worst possible way. (I guess I would say I'm a cis-female but I've never really cared that much).

Since I spent a lot of my adolescence trying to make myself smaller and weaker (because that's how I thought girls/women were supposed to be), I suspect if I had been AMAB I would have focused on becoming bigger and stronger.

In any case, I understand the quiet desperation of exercising until you pass out because of that lingering sensation of not-enoughness.

I also talked a bit about spending seven years with a toxic mentor that was frustratingly competent about a bunch of stuff (but just... horribly misguided when it came to personal relationships), and when I use one of the techniques he taught me (whatever Fist of Flowing Water Crushed Rock is, but for emotions), I inevitably flash back to that scene with Garou and the Tank-Top Gang ("I hate using this because it reminds me of him--").

Anyway, after that I left that job I went to touch grass/do something completely different (work in a yoga studio) because I just needed to... scrub toilets and fold a bunch of towels and untangle all the things I'd learned that were (in a sense) true, versus the concepts I wanted to embody and believe in and manifest. Additionally, my experience working there also informs some of the scenes I write with Garou in the dojo (mostly him griping about how nobody seems to take chores as seriously as he does, or how he keeps finding other people's underwear in weird places with literally no logical explanation for why that might be).

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

A thousand times, possibly a billion.

Just kidding, but it feels like too many. (The first chapter of Collateral Damage took me like eight months...I probably should have put it on ice for a bit, honestly)

Fic was my way of learning to write again, and I've never written any longform fiction, so multi-chapter fic in particular have been an experiment in how my brain works, and the tools I need to efficiently craft a story. If there are multiple layers to a scene, I don't always have the mental processing power to work out each aspect at once (what the character's say vs. what they mean, what they do / how they do it / what this indicates about them, plus any undercurrents of narrative tension or symbolism or whatever). So that's been a whole thing. I think I'm getting better at it, though. Flumptober Sexy Chess scene had a lot going on (and completely derailed all my deadlines), but knowing that I can labor on a beloved chapter for weeks instead of months was... a milestone, honestly.

"Kill your darlings before they kill you" is my new mantra, and unfortunately I had to learn that the hard way.

U: Share three of your favourite fic writers and why you like them so much.

@beileil, you're one of my favorite authors because of the way you blend so many things: humor, plot (specifically mystery), characterization and lovely prose. Even in an AU, the characters are very much themselves but they're also new and unique. One of my bad writing habits is that I will sometimes skip over description if it doesn't really speak to me, but with your stories I hang on every word--I remember reading the Hero Detective Agency and feeling completely emerged in that universe from the beginning.

@sharuruwrites, I think you are excellent at putting characters in Situations. I like how you manage to zoom in on some of the grittier aspects of characters (like how bloodthirsty Toji and Sukuna can be, or how Gojo is So Very Immature and Extra) and, without glossing them over, somehow make these traits more endearing (or at least understandable/relatable). I feel like every scene and small detail moves towards some sort of purpose, and if I blink, I'll miss something.

I guess my third favorite fic writer is my brother. I wonder if he remembers that we used to write silly stories about Mario sometimes (I was 12 or 13 which means he was 9 or 10, so I was probably typing while he was dictating). I am both insatiably curious and afraid to ask. In any case, he's still a hilarious storytelling and I hope to write more (original) things with him some day.