#so long as my time won't get absorbed by real life stuff

[thyeternalhunger]

A year of sollerets knights

Started drawing armors since I saw Kas 5e's concept art, seems like I've improved a lot on rendering metal.

Next year I'll definitely draw more knights, undeads and necromancers because KCD2 and Avowed is happening.

collection :)

[burningcheese-merchant]

A Thought About Burning Spice Cookie

I was kind of just going about my business today when I had a sort of... revelation, I guess? About Burning Spice. Looking back, I'm not really sure why it took me so long to think of this, but I like to live by the ideal "the best time was then, the second best time is now", so here we go.

Burning Spice was once the Herald of Change (or History, in the original Korean text). He was said to have fought for and defended fledgling civilizations in the distant past, protecting people and helping them in dark times. His throne decor even says he used to let people into his palace and allow them to engage in honest discussion with him about their problems, after which he'd get up and go out and do something about those problems. He sounded like a pretty swell guy... until he got bored with everything and went insane, of course. But here's the thing.

I think I understand why he ended up this way.

To put it as vaguely as possible, I do stuff in real life that may or may not have something to do with history as a subject. And I will gladly tell you all point-blank: history is fucking horrible. History is bleak. History is dark and cruel. The more you dive into it, the more it appears to you as a joke without a punchline. History is a drama, a tragedy, and a big fucking farce all at the same time.

Of course Burning Spice got tired of it. I get tired of it sometimes. Because sometimes, all history ever seems to be is a bunch of delinquents writing "I'm a bad kid" on the chalkboard repeatedly forever and ever. Just a bunch of bad people hurting each other for reasons that'll only come across as stupid long after they've all died at each other's hands. I'm sure Burning Spice started to think "what's even the point of building anything if someone is just going to come tear it down?" And it's hard to not think that when that's what ALWAYS happens. That's what history is a lot of the time. Brutal competition. A war of all against all.

The cure to the cynicism and melancholy history can and will inflict on you, at least in my opinion, is... to stop dwelling on it, honestly. At the end of the day, you have to remember that the past is gone. What's done is done. Things happen and sometimes, you can't do anything about it. You can't go back and save Lincoln from being assassinated. You can't go back and stop the Holocaust. You can't go back and save the world from all those wars and famines and disease epidemics. History both changes constantly and is unchanging at the same time. You have to make peace with what you cannot change - the past - and move forward, because time won't wait for you. We have to remember these things, these dark times; we all have a duty to do so, for the sake of those that came before us and those that will come after. But we also have to remember to live for the sake of those around us here and now. It is the present that shapes the world the most. It is in the present that we find true happiness. Not in the yellowed pages of old textbooks about the past and not in the pie-in-the-sky fever dreams we have about the future.

I think that's what fucked Burning Spice over. He forgot to live in the present. He was so focused on bringing about change, so absorbed in giving everything he had to everyone else, so invested in preserving the past and paving the way for the future, that he started losing sight of what was already there in front of him. His friends. His people. Too much time spent on the bigger picture and not enough spent on the tiny details that don't seem important at first glance, but when you look closer, you realize are what made the whole, entire picture as big as it is in the first place. He, like many do, like I do, began to see how cyclical and futile history can really be. He just saw people looking for reasons to hurt one another and destroy anything good they'd built together. Civilizations that were once grand and prosperous falling to anarchy. Clans with close ties turning against one another. Friend groups fracturing. All this hard work, undone, over and over again. And for what? What did they do any of this for? What did HE do any of this for?

I think his descent into villainy was slow, but sure. A little piece of his soul crumbling to dust with every person he felt like he failed because whatever great change he enacted was undone and everyone else suffered for it. And no one was ever really there to help steer him back onto the right path. Not his friends, not his family, not his people at large. Whether this was because they didn't know he was hurting like this (he seems like the type to keep things close to the chest anyway), they didn't know how to help or comfort him, or they didn't care, ultimately does not matter; regardless, it boils down to Burning Spice never being reminded to find solace in those around him right now, instead of constantly fretting over those before or after.

Maybe if he did remember, if he paid more attention to what IS and not what WAS or what WILL BE, he could've been saved. If he'd let Shadow Milk tell him more about his books and the little puppets he liked to craft. If he listened to Eternal Sugar play her harp more. If he sat and played a few more rounds of Go with Mystic Flour. If he had a friendly sparring match or two extra with Silent Salt. If he ate and drank and danced with his fellow spices like he probably used to like doing. If he stopped thinking he always had to be this larger-than-life figure who lorded over and protected society, and just let himself breathe and be a normal, happy person. It wouldn't make the ultimate folly of history sting any less, but he could have at least made peace with it and continued onward in spite of it.

But he didn't. He succumbed to history's poison, like so many have and so many will. And in an ironic twist of fate, which you will also often find throughout history, the tide of change swallowed him whole and drowned him. He let the failures of yesterday color his perception of today, and tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. More and more people came across to him as bad actors until the whole world was just a devil's stage play, and it was being performed at his expense. Hard work and self-sacrifice lost their flavor. He tried to keep going, tried to keep pushing. Maybe he knew what was happening to him on some level and fought desperately to save himself. Put duct tape over the cracks in a dam, because that's probably all it amounted to, because the wisdom he needed didn't exist within him at that time and he didn't/couldn't find it anywhere else. Pushed forward even when he couldn't see where he was going anymore. Until every muscle in his body hurt. Until he'd lived long enough to see everything he ever lived and worked for be taken apart for scrap, for a vendetta, for shits and giggles.

Until he started looking at those bandits and warlords and terrorists he used to help put away and thinking... "hey. Maybe they're seeing something I'm not. If nothing else at all, they sure look like they're having fun. Way more than I am right now." Until he gave in to despair and grew bitter, and thought "well, if nothing I do really matters, if destroying it all is what makes people happy, then maybe I should give it a shot."

And then he became a bandit, a warlord, a terrorist. He turned into all those people he hated and continues to hate today. He cut out the middle-man and just ended lives before they could begin. Razed civilizations to the ground because that was what was going to happen anyway, whether it be by his hand or someone else's. What does it even matter? What does anything matter? This is all history is. Pain and suffering. He's only doing what's natural. He's solving problems before they can even occur, really. He's doing everyone a REAL favor. Destruction truly is the only way.

The best way to make the world a better place is to make the lives of those around you better first. Even just helping the one person makes a difference in its own way. Think less about making history by winning a war or toppling a regime and more about making history in an old person's life by helping them up when they fall down. Or making history in a dog's life by volunteering at an animal shelter. Or making history in your friends' lives by having a fun day with them that they'll remember and cherish even on their deathbeds. Change doesn't have to be grand. It doesn't need to be an all-consuming tide that rises above the tallest buildings. It can just be gentle waves and seafoam, washing over the sand and kissing one's feet. That's enough, more often than not. More than one might realize.

Maybe if somebody made sure Burning Spice kept this in mind, he wouldn't have turned into a Beast in the end.

TL;DR: History is shit. Him losing it makes perfect sense. It probably would've happened to me, too. Somebody should've been there to keep him grounded. Everyone failed him and he failed himself. Remember to live in the present. YO SOCRATES, IT'S A FUCKING COOKIE

[illegiblehandwriting1]

HI! :D

Do you have any Four/Sky headcanons you have yet to share that you would like too?

*cracks knuckles* Do i ever. (a bunch of these will be just. straight from some of my fics but eh whatever i love them)

Four absolutely heard stories about Sky, particularly as a child. Sky was probably a cross between George Washington and, like, Odysseus to his era. Someone legendary, a hero just toeing the line between history and myth. No one's 100% certain he's real, but Four believes it. (So does Dot)

In Four's era, there is a constellation known as the Godslayer constellation. Enough said.

Sky's love of flying and his experience in piloting parallels Four's ceaseless examination of minute details. Four likes dealing in the little things that make big results, so he ends up being really fascinated with how exactly Sky's Loftwing can fly and how it evolved. And hey, giant specimen that won't eat him? Big win.

Four gets along so well with Minish engineers and scientists. It's scary.

Sky took up woodcarving as a meditative art. He couldn't focus for long enough (inattentive ADHD) so woodcarving became a way to learn to focus and complete tasks, and he just sorta fell in love. He probably learned with Gondo.

Speaking of, Gondo is probably his favorite shopkeeper at the Bazaar. Sky was totally the type of kid to pester him with questions and stories and anecdotes while he worked, and Gondo was kind and patient enough to let him. He also liked the company.

Sky and Four both seem pretty chill (one's a mom friend and one's pretty smart/inquisitive/has common sense?), which is why no one ever suspects them when they team up and pull the most ridiculous pranks. (Wild knows, though. His best friend is Flora. He knows how absolutely insane scientists are, and he and Sky regularly drag each other around on misadventures. When there is a prank war, Wild only makes Four's and Sky's favorite dishes. They scare him.)

Sky's soul doesn't display his physical scars. In Silent Realms, you can only see cracks and impacts where Guardians have gotten him. They glow.

Sky likes listening to Four ramble about cool stuff he's learned. He has no idea what Four's talking about half the time, but Four is always so excited to have someone listen that all of his walls come down and you can see the Colors more clearly. Sky adores it so much.

Speaking of, after Four Swords, i think Four came back together, but rather than being four people piloting a meatsuit together or just a single person again, he's more like a granny square blanket. He's one dude, but different characteristics will show more overtly depending on the situation, and when put under stress, the seams begin to rip until he has to use the Four Sword to split. Otherwise, he gets a super migraine and just can't function. Also, magic fucks with him.

I read a fic where Four had a stutter and that's canon to me now. Like. yeah.

Sky much prefers the application of things to the theory. He's a smart guy for sure, canonically breezed/slept through all of his classes and did well while Groose had to work his ass off, but while he was able to absorb the information easily, it just didn't engage him and he wasn't all that interested. His favorite classes were in the Sparring Hall and in the air on his Loftwing. As I said before, real ADHD guy.

Sky's Loftwing is named Bird. Sun's is Blue, and Groose's is Fast. I'm sure some kids made up cool names like Felicia and Arnold, but I love the idea that they were childhood friends before, like, middle school years, so they probably shared a single braincell.

Four ends up teaching Sky metallurgy and stuff when they get a chance to chill at the forge. Sky teaches Four woodworking/carving.

Sky is good at physics.

Four is like. SO autistic to me, what a guy, and the Chosen Hero is and has been a big special interest, so meeting Sky is like the best moment of his LIFE. He was probably trying to do some detective work with the other Links as subjects when he meets Sky and he just gets SO excited, it's adorable. Sky sees him, learns he's his successor, and immediately loves him forever. They are besties your honor.

also any version of FD!Sky

thanks for the ask!!! these two are my favorite dudes, i love them :D

[heartshattering]

I still haven't found a solution for being fatigued all the time. Caffeine doesn't help, doctors don't help, literally nothing helps and I'm at the end of my fucking rope. I just don't know what to do anymore.

I can't take prescription stimulants because I'd be putting my heart at risk but sometimes it really is tempting to see if I could go to a new doctor and not tell them about my history of arrhythmia and see if they'd prescribe me something (but I won't since 1 - I'm too scared and 2 - it's not like doctors here ever want to prescribe anything either way, IF you're even lucky enough to see a doctor since the waiting lists are long af).

I feel like I've been spending all day sleeping, and when I am awake, I'm absolutely useless. I have constant headaches, I feel physically uncomfortable all the time (too hot, too sweaty, too itchy), and nothing makes me feel 'good' anymore. My only relief is sleep, and even then it doesn't do much for me since I still wake up tired, sometimes even more tired than before thanks to my nightmares.

Idk, it's just disheartening to have to deal with this because this is seriously interfering with my life. And I feel like I can't do anything about it. I'll always be the person in the house who needs the least amount of help. My mom can't get out of bed so of course she needs the most assistance. My aunt is depressed because her husband died so she gets all the sympathy from people. And then my dad is working all the time so of course he has a ~real~ reason to be tired while I don't (even though he literally only 'works' so that he doesn't have to be around us, and spends most of the time doing stupid shit in his office like arguing in the comments).

Every day the list of stuff to do piles up, to the point where it's barely even fun anymore. Things I used to enjoy feel like chores now. I can't catch up with that series I love, because I always end up falling asleep while trying to concentrate on it. I can't try out that new game my friends are all talking about, because my brain feels too drained to figure out how to play it and I'm embarrassed that I'd just slow them down. I can't self-study topics that normally I'd enjoy, because my brain just isn't absorbing anything and it makes me feel so fucking overwhelmed.

Then, there's the ACTUAL chores... I can't clean my room, I can't keep things organized, I feel too exhausted to cook. My hygiene has gone down the drain, like I currently feel disgusting right now but I can't do anything about it. I haven't done laundry in the longest time, all my used clothes are piled up and they smell like (and possibly actually have) mold.

I take care of my mom and my dog, but that's it... when it comes to taking care of myself, I just can't. And everything feels like too fucking much.

[koffing-time]

//YEAHH woo cheese is back!!! hi cheese!!! (i mean. we've been in contact) but YEAHHH CHEESE BLOGS ARE BACK

Hey! You're a Poison-type user! This Trubbish won't leave me alone, and I caught him, so he's mine, I think? Is there any way to make him... smell less trashy? Koffing smell too, right? I know that one. So maybe you have some ideas, especially if you're running a café?

-@say-it-with-sizzle

Hi there! first off: congrats! Trubbish are usually not very social pokémon, so being chosen by a wild one is pretty awesome! (that doesn't mean you smell btw)

So, about his smell:

\\headcanon ahead (also long post so i'll make a cut)

Trubbish, like many Poison Types that have unusual diets (Grimer, Varoom etc), their smell and sometimes their appearance depends a lot on what they eat. I've looked at your blog, you're in Nimbassa right? If you caught your Trubbish there, i'm not surprised he smells atrocious. No offense to the people there, but it's a big city with many events and a lot of waste that is pretty disgusting. Imagine a mixture of burnt fireworks and gasoline from the amusement park and musical as well as greasy makeup, half eaten and spoiling food from sport events and whatever unspeakable things can be found in the battle metro? Sounds familiar bc your Trubbish smells exactly like that? (Be glad you didn't catch him in the sewers of castelia lmao)

Yeah... tl:dr get him on a diet that smells better.

You can easily mix some detergents or soaps (with parfume) into his food, he should be quite capable of digesting it and check if there's some stuff that smells bad that he's eaten. There are two things to consider for Trubbish diet though:

1: they need some sort of toxic compounds for their poison type attacks. You should be able to get him a proper assortment from like, cleaning chemicals. Parfumed detergents and stuff, so there is definitely an option for good smell (don't expect too much though, he won't smell like the flower fields near Opelucid). If he doesn't get any of these compounds, he might get stressed at the lack of self-defense options. He'll possibly also try to scavenge public trash cans or stuff like that, and you don't want that for multiple reasons.

2: Trubbish don't do much digestion. They mostly just absorb whatever they eat directly into their body (bonus of being amorphous i guess?) and it stays there until the energy is used up. This means, they often need rotten or spoiling organic food, (or rather the bacteria and molds and stuff) to help break down their (other) food, so they can use more energy quickly. There are foods that smell TERRIBLE when rotting, and other that are... okay-ish, and depending on what you give him, he'll smell similar. Technically they don't need these organic foods, but if they don't have access to them, they grow lethargic and are generally weaker.

Once you change his diet, he possibly won't change his smell significantly for 3 to 4 weeks though, because the stuff usually stays in their body for a longer time than "regular" pokémon.

That being said, please do provide him a proper toxic diet. I mean, he's basically perfectly happy with playing your trashcan. For real, give him food scraps, empty dish soap bottles and stuff like that (keep in mind the smell of whatever it is though). Only giving him (regular) pokémon-food is almost certainly make his life worse and prone to illness, stress and whatnot.

As for Coffee, my Koffing, it's a similar thing. He smells mostly like, well, coffee, because his diet is mostly that. As a result, he's also entirely non-toxic, because he doesn't eat anything that's toxic in the first place. It's really funny how some of the most toxic pokémon in the wild don't produce any toxins themself and just eat them to use them later. Also, Coffee doesn't feel the need to be toxic (i am definitely happy to provide him a proper toxic diet and he knows this). Your trubbish very likely feels different about self defense. So again, please provide him some toxic stuff.

And a little funfact: Koffing sometimes form competing gangs in bigger cities purely based on smell. Owners of Koffing who smell like a certain part of town have to be careful if they go to another one.

[brainyxbat]

Chapter 4: Luffy Gets Angry! A Dirty Trick Violates the Sacred Duel!

(episode 72)

As Broggy and Dorry began their fight, Luffy watched in awe from the ground, with Vivi and Karoo bearing the sonicwave.

"H-he blocked the blow with his helmet!" Usopp exclaimed from his, Venus, and Nami's place by Broggy's home. "If he was off by even an inch, he would've died instantly!" Dorry escaped a slash, which only cut some strands from his long beard, and shoved his weapon into Broggy's. "What a fight; each of their attacks is a mortal blow aimed at the opponent's vital point!"

"Wow," Venus watched with him.

"Those two have continued this duel to the death for 100 years?" Nami remarked, then smiled with relief. "But this is good; we can use this opportunity to get out of here." She began to walk away, dragging Venus with her, but stopped upon noticing that he wasn't moving an inch. "Usopp?"

"Incredible..." '"Reason? I don't remember."' He recalled Broggy's words. "Even without a reason, they're fighting so seriously."

"This fight sure is a bother," Nami frowned, before getting startled by Venus yanking her arm out of her grip.

"You idiot!" Usopp protested, still not moving away, as Venus sat on the log to watch. "This is what people mean by a real battle between men!"

Nami stared in surprise. "What's that about?"

"To use an analogy, those two fly a warrior's flag in their heart. This flag is even more important their life. In no way do they want it to be destroyed by others. That's why they've continued to take on each other for 100 long years!" The weapons clashed. "Do you get it? This is unmistakably a proud duel between warriors!"

"Wow," Venus breathed in awe.

Nami watched on for a few seconds, before losing interest, and walking away. "Whatever. Stuff like that doesn't interest me. Now, hurry up!"

"I'm gonna watch this a little longer."

"Me too."

"Venus!"

"This is exactly what my goal is. To be a brave warrior of the sea! I wanna be a proud man like them!"

Venus smiled at him from the log. "That's a great dream, Usopp."

Nami frowned in distaste, before sitting next to her. "I see... so you wanna be a giant."

Usopp flinched, and ran over to her angrily. "No!! Were you even listening to me?!"

"Moron," Venus glared at her, but went unnoticed.

"There!" She pointed behind his back. "Don't you have to watch them over there?"

Usopp turned around to start watching again. "If there's a village with warriors like them in it, I wanna go there someday."

-

Elsewhere in the jungle, Ms. Valentine was hovering above the trees. "I've got a good view from here."

"They'll find you, Ms. Valentine," Mr. 5 scolded, "Come down already!"

"Don't worry, Mr. 5; after all, they're absorbed in the fight. They won't notice."

"Just come down!" He commanded.

"Okay, okay." She reluctantly obliged, and dropped down to the ground gracefully.

"Hey, do you really get it? This is a big job for 200 million berries."

"Of course. Although I feel reluctant to do as Mr. 3 tells us."

"I know," Mr. 5 passed her by, "Let's go."

"Okay," She followed.

-

Meanwhile, Broggy sat on the ground to catch his breath. "We're both homesick, aren't we, Dorry?"

"That's why I'll beat you, and go back to Elbaf, Broggy."

After the axe and sword stuck in the ground, they started up again, this time shoving their shields in each other's faces. "73,466 duels..."

"73,466 draws..."

Usopp, Venus, and Nami witnessed their crashing back down, as did Luffy, Vivi, and Karoo. After a few seconds of silence, they both started laughing jovially. "Dorry! Actually, I got alcohol from my guests."

"Great! It's been a while since I had a drink. Give me some."

-

Elsewhere, Zoro heard the commotion during his hunt. "What was that? First a long, strange earthquake, and now this? What is it this time? Are there weird creatures other than dinosaurs in this jungle?" He then smirked. "Well, that damn cook is probably the only one who'd be happy to capture things like that."

"Were those bird cries?" Sanji wondered aloud from where he was looking around for catches. "Even so, those were vulgar, unappetizing cries. Although we're competing to capture a big prey, we're still looking for food." He smirked to himself. "That guy doesn't get it at all."

-

At the houses, a laughing Dorry was downing drinks while with Luffy, Vivi, and Karoo. "I see. His guests are your friends, huh? I saw a man with a long nose, and two women."

"That's Usopp, Nami, and Venus!" Luffy beamed to the princess. "Hah! They said they wouldn't get off the ship, but they really do like adventures after all!"

"Then you could also say that I got this alcohol from you."

They all glanced up at a screeching pterodactyl flying by. "By the way, Dorry-san, does it really take a year for the Log to be stored?" Vivi asked worriedly.

"Didn't you notice the human skulls lying around?" Dorry responded with another question. "Those who come to this island die before the Log is stored in most cases. Some become dinosaurs' food. Some suffer from heat and starvation. Some others are killed because they attack us. They all die... it seems that one year on this island is too long for humans."

Vivi's hands balled into fists in her lap. "What're we gonna do? Even if we could survive for a year, if that much time passes, I don't know what will happen to my country by then."

"Yeah," Luffy agreed, "I'd get bored too, if we stay here for a year. Isn't there a good way, old guy?"

"Hmm... we do have an Eternal Pose, but it's to our hometown, Elbaf. In other words, we're fighting for this Eternal Pose. Do you wanna try taking it by force?"

"That's no good," Luffy frowned in disappointment, "That's not where we wanna go. We just wanna go to the island after this one." He turned to Vivi. "Right?"

"Yes," She nodded, "If we lose the route to Alabasta, there's no point in moving forward."

"See?" Luffy turned back to Dorry.

"Then why don't you move forward randomly?" He suggested. "If you're lucky, you'll get there."

Luffy stared blankly for several seconds, before bursting into hearty laughter. "Maybe we'll do that! We may actually get there, huh?" Vivi stayed silent through the exchange.

"Come to think of it, there was someone who left before the Log was stored," Dorry recalled.

"What happened to him?" Luffy asked, as Vivi tensed up.

"How should I know?"

"He must've gotten to the next island."

"That must be it!"

Karoo was stifling laughter, before he flinched fearfully; Vivi was getting angrier by the second. 'What's so funny?' She glared, as they laughed together. 'I can't understand what they're thinking!'

-

"A brave warrior of the sea? What's that?" Broggy asked through repairing the handle of his axe.

"I'm talking about you guys," Usopp replied, "I wanna be like you guys someday!"

"Hm?" Broggy frowned in confusion. "You mean a giant?"

"See?" Nami grinned pridefully, as Venus facepalmed.

"That's not it!" Usopp exclaimed, then regained his composure. "I hope to live proudly just like the warriors of Elbaf!"

Broggy smiled, and laughed happily. "I see! Especially since our life span is longer than you humans', we think about how we die. Your assets, life... everything will eventually cease to exist. But if we die as a warrior of Elbaf without destroying our pride, that would be dying with honor. That pride is an everlasting treasure that is passed on in the land of Elbaf."

Usopp listened intently with deep admiration. "So pride is your treasure... that's so cool. I've decided... that I'll call you Master from now on!"

"Huh?"

Out of nowhere, an explosion boomed from inside Dorry's gut; Luffy, Vivi, and Karoo gaped in horror, as it sent him falling face-up, eyes rolling back, with smoke billowing from his throat. "Giant old guy!" Luffy cried. "What's going on?! Why did the alcohol explode?! That was our alcohol we had on our ship, right?!"

"It exploded in his stomach! His opponent must've laid the explosive!" Vivi guessed, as Luffy turned angry.

He jumped down from Dorry's chest, and leaned into her face. "What the hell were you watching?! They've been fighting for 100 years! No way they'd do something like this!"

"Then who on Earth..."

Behind them, a furious Dorry came to, weapon ready. "You bastards did..." He thrust his sword into the ground. "It wasn't Broggy," He panted, "We're proud warriors of Elbaf. Who else besides you should I be suspicious of?"

Karoo was already running away. "Let's get out of here now!" Vivi urged. "It's probably no use saying anything to him!"

"It's probably no use, even if we run." Luffy took off his treasured straw hat, and held it out to her. "Hold this, and stay back."

"Don't tell me! Are you going to fight?"

Luffy cracked his fingers. "I feel bad to do this to the old guy, but I'll quiet him down."

"Both of you, stop! Please!" Vivi pleaded. "Dorry-san, please listen! We really don't know anything about it! Anything about the alcohol that exploded! So please don't fight!" They continued staring daggers at one another. "You have to stay calm! Your insides are in bad shape right now!"

Dorry lifted his sword. "How dare you... do something so insolent!"

Luffy jumped away to avoid being crushed, before running up with the sword as leverage, and leaped in the air. "Gum-Gum...!" He prepared an attack, but was sent crashing back to the ground from Dorry's shield. He reached deep into the jungle, grabbed one of the trees, and launched himself away before he could get hit. Dorry coughed up blood, as Luffy flew off. "Gum-Gum...!" He prepared to go back in. 'I'm sorry.' "Rocket!!" He headbutted Dorry's stomach; but just as he seemed out of commission, his eyes reopened, and to Vivi and Karoo's horror, he stomped on him like a bug, as he recovered.

"Luffy-san!!" Vivi screamed.

Dorry panted through the pain. "So he has... the powers of a Devil Fruit." He fell to his knees. "I underestimated... him." After coughing up more blood, he collapsed face-down on the ground, sending shockwaves quaking throughout. A panting Luffy sat up, and turned to the giant. He wasn't moving.

"Luffy-san!" Vivi ran to him in concern, hat in hand. "Are you all right?"

He turned to her. "How's the old guy?"

"He's probably okay," She replied, "This is actually good. Otherwise, he wouldn't have calmed down."

He put his hat back on. "I'm angry!"

"What?"

"Like the old guy said, this alcohol explosion isn't the act of the other giant, and my friends would never do a stupid thing like this!"

"Then who on Earth..."

"There's someone else, on this island."

-

"Games are heavily influenced by people's state of mind," Mr. 3 said through pouring tea, "They are confused right now, by the cryptic bomb from an invisible enemy." He gave the teacups to Mr. 5 and Ms. Valentine. "First, about our first target, Dorry the Blue Ogre; I knew it was impossible to finish him, but the damage he received to his stomach still must've been quite large. Now, we can drink some tea, and wait for the next duel to start."

"So we'll let the other giant take care of the injured giant, huh?" Mr. 5 guessed.

"That's right."

"That's quite a roundabout way of doing things," He remarked after a sip.

"The Warrior species are the same as wild boars, after all. We don't have to fight seriously, when they're only good at going head-on, since even if we can't win power-wise, we have brains to make up for it." Mr. 3 chuckled evilly, before sensing he was being stared at. It was Ms. Golden Week, who sat at the window without making a sound. He tried to ignore her, but her eyes bore into him. "Geez, get it yourself, Ms. Golden Week," He griped, handing the teacup over.

"By the way, what're we going to do with the Straw Hat gang?"

Mr. 3 turned to Mr. 5. "Straw Hat?" In realization, his top knot straightened up like an exclamation point. "Oh yeah, the small fries that found out the boss' secrets. Well, we can just lure them out one by one, starting with whoever's convenient to my "secret set." My motto is "big crimes via cheap tricks." There're many ways to defeat enemies without actually fighting."

Ms. Golden Week held out her empty teacup. "Mr. 3, refill please."

"Hey, me too," Mr. 5 requested.

"You guys!" Mr. 3 raged. "Take time to savor it!"

-

"Ah!" Luffy, Vivi, and Karoo turned to the volcano when it suddenly erupted, several times.

"That mountain is, if I'm not mistaken..."

-

"This isn't good," Zoro remarked, "I'm running out of time." When he stepped on something hard, he stopped and looked down; it was a baby triceratops. "Ah, sorry." He drew his foot away, only for it to bite his shoe. "Ahh! Let it go!" He tried to wave it off. "I said I'm sorry! Hey!" He didn't realize he was being watched through the struggle. "I don't have time to mess around! Let it go!"

"The time out signal has rung," Sanji observed disappointedly, "Having no prey isn't even funny. Damn." In a tree behind him, a saber-toothed tiger was watching ominously.

-

"There's the signal," Broggy pointed out to Usopp and the girls, "It's quite active today."

"You're going?!" Usopp asked in surprise. "Your wounds from that last battle still haven't-"

Broggy held out his axe in determination. "It's nothing! We're both in the same condition!" He had no idea how wrong he was. He laughed, as Usopp gulped. "Making excuses during a merciless fight to the death would spoil my name!"

-

Elsewhere, a pained Dorry pushed himself on his knees, not giving up. "Hey! Wait, old guy!" Luffy called. "Don't go!"

"You can't go, Dorry-san!" Vivi urged. "You need to keep still! You'll die if you push yourself too hard!"

"I, Warrior Dorry, am here... at the very least," He coughed up more blood, "I will fight to uphold the name of Elbaf!" He regained his footing, as the three could only watch.

[wretchedmosses]

Cycle

I woke up at 9 today, but I left my bed at 11. It always seems to happen that way. I just lay there until my hours are gone. Hoping noone sees me, that I'll be left well enough alone for a little bit if I don't move much, that things will be quiet and I can sleep. Eventually, I do get up, though.

My head is heavy. I feel weak, there's something gummy between the ears. That means I haven't eaten enough. My hair feels greasy as I touch it, I haven't showered in a little while. Maybe a few days. Those are both better than they used to be, I think. There isn't much in the house, so I start to make some toast. My father is awake now, he comes to show me the news he found today.

Malaria and dengue fever are running rampant in our home state, and the podcasters he likes have mixed feelings about the Barbie movie. cool.

The toaster pops at me loudly, insistently. I don't remember putting the bread in. Guess I got absorbed in his talking. These things he talks about have a way of biting. I think as I work in the kitchen, think about the danger we're in. The money I've made and spent and it feels like on nothing in particular, but I don't know if I'd be here if I hadn't spent it and I don't know how much longer I could go on making it. The new workplace is crushing me with nerves. I've never worked an office before, these new people are terrifying and they expect me to speak to them. It's only been a week and I don't know if I feel better or worse than I did at the last job, or during the time between. Everything seemed dim and hopeless then, but it's not that it doesn't now. I guess what I really wanted was something to take the time off my hands. So they'd stop shouting me down for my hobbies, so I'd be a real adult. Do I feel adult?

Oh, the toast is jellied and plated. I could make some tea or coffee, but my teeth are getting worse. I should be saving for my first dental appointment, but I have a whole list of stuff to save for, and I still haven't decided how I'll budget, have I? I guess I'll put that on the list today.

It's a big list now. I don't know if that's good.

The tasks seem to fill a gap there for a while, but I'll feel bad when not all of it is done, won't I? It's all so important, too. To someone else or to me, and few in betweens. It doesn't feel very adult for a to-do list to be so thoughtful and crushing. They're not very outlandish tasks for my age or anything.

I'm sitting to eat now, and I haven't even written any of my tasks down. I'm starting to lose them already. What did I just say I'd add?

I've eaten, and I'm not in so much pain or exhaustion when I stand. My head still feels wrong, but it's been a while since it felt right. Maybe the shower will do it. Or the water, or the tasks. I don't know how I can be so strong to think about other tasks when it's so hard to take care of myself already.

Is that strength? Is that adulthood? I don't feel strong. I don't feel grown.

I wish there had been more time, but I don't rue how I spent it. I was happy in those days. I didn't know the sun well then, but with it missing, I miss it so badly now. It's sunny, but my sky is dark.

In a week I won't remember today. I'll pity my past self for thinking it was so bad then. Or maybe I'll weep for the state I was in. I can't see the bottom, I can't even feel if I've hit it. Maybe that's why I feel sick, and my head is reeling. I hope I've gone as low as I can. There might still be hope of reaching the surface again.

I'm going to have my shower. I'll drink my water, play a game. I have a meetup with my friends tomorrow, and with my DND group today. That thought makes me smile a little. Maybe I'll go for a walk, too. It's not good to be inside so long, my freckles are fading. I'm sure my dad won't like that, but I don't want to think about that. There's a happy picture at the end of the line. I think I can make that a scene from my life. Maybe it's just a matter of the effort I put in. I haven't got much left in my bones, but for joy, I'll lift with my whole back.

[denimbex1986]

'Believe it or not, Oppenheimer won't be the first time Cillian Murphy has played a physicist named Robert who is responsible for a bomb that will change the course of human history. In 2007, he starred as physicist Robert Capa in Danny Boyle's Sunshine, a sci-fi thriller set aboard a spaceship in 2057. The sun is dying, and the film follows a crew of eight tasked with launching a massive "stellar bomb" into the sun to reignite it in humanity's last hope of preserving life on Earth. As the ship, Icarus II, makes its way toward the waning but still deadly star, things, of course, begin to go wrong, due in part to human error, in part to human evil, and in part to the terrifying whims of nature.

The premise might sound a little goofy — a bit like a reverse of 2003's The Core — but it's actually quite grounded thanks to writer Alex Garland's dedication to scientific realism. He and Boyle brought in physicist Brian Cox to consult on the film and to help anchor the premise in real scientific theory. There's still a bit of hand waving involved — for instance, it's never explained how the interior of the ship has Earth-like artificial gravity, one of the most complex problems facing actual long-term space missions. But the movie feels realistic enough that it's easy to overlook such omissions. The film is also surprisingly absorbing, carried by Danny Boyle's masterfully slow build-up of tension, plus strong performances from a stacked cast that includes Murphy, Chris Evans, Rose Byrne, Michelle Yeoh, Mark Strong, and Benedict Wong. The sun itself is also very much a character, its power and proximity having profound but disparate effects on each crew member.

'Sunshine's Production Was Not Your Usual Movie Set

Boyle put the actors through the wringer to achieve those excellent performances: over the course of six weeks prior to filming, they watched movies together, including classics like Das Boot, The Right Stuff, and Alien; went to science lectures; toured a nuclear submarine to get a feel for the claustrophobia of a spaceship; went scuba diving; experienced weightlessness in zero gravity simulators — Boyle himself took a ride on the infamous vomit comet — and even lived together in a minimalist college dorm. As Hiroyuki Sanada, who plays Captain Kaneda, told SciFiNow in 2019, “We had small rooms, no TV, no refrigerator but a shared kitchen and every night one of us had to cook for everyone." That experience was recreated in an early scene in the film, when engineer Mace (Evans) complains about navigator Trey's (Wong) cooking, to which Trey responds, "If you don't like it, you take my shift next time." Boyle also insisted on using physical effects to stand in for the computer effects that would be added later, so the actors had something real to react to.

Brian Cox Helped Cillian Murphy Realize Robert Capa

Although the cast is ostensibly an ensemble, Capa is our primary point-of-view character. His voiceover provides the opening exposition, and he is the only character we see recording video messages to send home. Murphy spent extra time with Dr. Cox, even shadowing him as he worked at the European Organization for Nuclear Research (CERN) in Geneva — home of the Large Hadron Collider — and sitting in on meetings. According to Cox, Murphy picked up mannerisms and speech patterns from the physicists around him, which show up in some of his improvised dialogue. In fact, the experience had such a profound effect on Murphy that it changed him from an agnostic to an atheist. “Not just because I spent time with these guys," he said in 2007. "They just confirmed what I’d always suspected."

Cox, who worked as a professional musician for the bands Dare and D:Ream while earning his Ph.D. in particle physics, often sports a band t-shirt under his blazer and doesn't look like a stereotypical physicist. The resemblance between Capa and Cox is unmistakable, from the shaggy hairstyle to the wiry build to the youthful handsomeness. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Cox later praised Murphy's performance as "brilliant."

Capa’s demeanor — usually calm and grounded, but punctuated by moments of both dry humor and intense terror as everything goes to hell around him — is reminiscent of Murphy’s breakout performance in another Boyle-Garland collaboration, 28 Days Later. While the entire crew understands well the enormity and significance of their mission, only Capa truly grasps the power of the Manhattan-sized (an apt analogy) bomb they tow, as well as the sheer insanity of their plan to launch it into the sun and escape with their lives, protected only by the gigantic but far from indestructible gold leaf shield that stands between the Icarus II and instantaneous incineration. The weight of this knowledge hangs over Murphy's character, who is outwardly in control of his emotions, but perhaps just barely.

'Sunshine' Is Finally Getting the Appreciation It Deserves

Despite largely positive reviews, Sunshine flopped at the box office, failing to make back its $40 million budget, outshone by more fantastical franchise fare such as Spider-Man 3, Transformers, Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End, and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Some have speculated that a summer release — which forced it to compete against the aforementioned blockbusters — was a mistake, particularly in the film's home base of Britain, where winter is the more popular season for theater-going. Others believe the film was too cerebral, and that extremely high-concept sci-fi à la 2001: A Space Odyssey just didn't have much of an audience in the late 2000s. Today, although it hasn't quite garnered a cult following, the film has gained greater appreciation as more and more fans of the genre discover it and fall in love with its cast, smart writing, and that beautiful, nerve-strumming tension.

Although Oppenheimer is set in the past rather than the future and is grounded firmly on Earth, Murphy's performance in it more than likely benefitted from his time spent working on Sunshine and learning from today's most brilliant physicists. As Danny Boyle knew, even a baseline understanding of the subject matter can help an actor add a level of nuance to their performance that wouldn't be possible if they were going into the role completely ignorant. I, for one, can't wait to see how Murphy brings that understanding to his portrayal of the Father of the Atomic Bomb in Oppenheimer, which hits theaters Friday, July 21.'

[unboundtravels]

🎲 hello this is for Miles’s multimuse ( I’m at work 😔✌🏾 ) and reapcrbunny

𝑀𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝗥𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲

@poswiecenia/@reapcrbunny

send  🎲  and i’ll place our muses into this generator and post the resulting muse combinations and a few ideas on how to make it work! 

 Okay, Miles. I went ahead and picked out some really good ones here. I featured my Request Only muses to spice things up. We're already doing some pretty fun stuff with Looney's Babysitting Adventures and Scarf & Razor's Space-Last of Us extravaganza. So I picked out some succulent pairings here that I think might be up your alley.

LUMINE & RASSILON [Late Time War]

I'm not quite sure why this one popped out at me so much. I think Rassilon & The Travelers is always an interaction I've wanted to pursue for a long time. The Traveler Twins are implied to be immortal, from what I understand— and while I won't assume why it is they flee— a personal headcanon I have is because their homeworld was destroyed. Most specifically, I like to headcanon that when Gallifrey was in it's infancy, Rassilon organized some pretty nasty stuff in order to steal their technology and absorb it into the culture. Now, imagine during The Time War— when Rassilon is at her most deranged... the survivor of a race she truly loathed and wished to stamp out of history is brought before her throne. Tasty.

Personification of Death * The War Master

The Master is easily death's champion. During The Time War, The Master revels in the chaos. He takes advantage of The War to it's fullest in order to further his own schemes. He revels in it, and as such exudes a gentleman's personality despite his disgusting acts of cruelty and malice. In a period of time where Death is arguably at their strongest due to the chaos brought about by The Time War— The Master earns an audience with his patron. Despite not even being informed of being Death's Champion, The Master delights in the role... until the purpose of Death's invitation is made clear: "As my champion, I thought you might as well know— there's no escaping this war, and there's no winning. Run and hide very far... or else you might get swallowed up whole."

Personification of Life * The War Doctor

If The Master is then Death's champion due to all the chaos he brings and the destruction he delights in— then The Doctor must therefore be Life's Champion. Although the amount of death and pain he's suffered through may make you think he's Death's... he's a champion of life. Though they have never formally crossed paths, The Doctor has done his duty as Champion faithfully— despite not even being aware that's his role. He simply helps because he can, and because he wants to do the right thing. That's why despite abhoring violence, never carrying a weapon, and outright opposing the Time War... he still joined. He had to. He didn't have a choice. Though, even when he threw away his title of Doctor, he was still doing the work of a champion for life. He did everything he could to try and stop the war. He tried to win it, and when that failed he tried to force both sides to stop... and when that didn't work— he did all he could to try and avoid the only real solution. Despite it all, though— there is only one way to end The Time War. There's only one way to stop Death from sweeping across the whole of reality. Faced with the The Moment in which he must decide whether to end it all— destroy both sides utterly and completely with one big bang... or let the universe fall into chaos... Life appears before her champion. Nobody should be alone for this.

Ruan Mei * Cardinal Mantis.

As mentioned in my last post with a character in the genius society: I just don't think The Timelords & The Genius Society get along that well. However, desperate times call for desperate measures and when Mantis seeks out Ruan Mei to basically poach her from the genius society, he brings a pretty banger offer to the table. "Join our side and build us weapons— Don't even worry about anyone else just make the most effective weapons you can possibly construct against The Daleks." And boom— a wartime science plot in which Ruan Mei becomes a prolific Gallifreyan Weapons Engineer. This could spin out into a whole AU tbh. If she decided to join in on the war, anyways.

DAHILA * THE BUMBLE DOCTOR [Experimental] 

The Bumble Doctor is insane. That's it. That's the plot. No, but in actuality The Bumble Doctor is this sort of fusion of the Seventh Doctor, the Thirteenth Doctor, and she's got a dash of some of the Shalka Doctor in there. All great labels, but what does that mean? Well, she's a punk-rock-college-professor who wants to live a party girl lifestyle while also harkoning back to her golden years as The First Doctor. She's a crazy little mean girl who is definitely a Doctor with Darker Shades due to her more complex morality. She's living a pretty shady lifestyle because of her eccentric quirks and her rude personality. She's punk, she wants to be a rebel now more then ever— and Dahila could definitely be a companion for her if she can handle that chaotic lifestyle. Maybe they might even do crimes and kiss a little. It's how Bumble rolls.

[lunaticus-platina]

So I saw @blood-and-silver 's ghost!Travis idea and that gave me a thought. Imma throw in the cents that my brain just spat out. Feel free to use this idea bit I posted for fics and stuff.

What if the counselors all think he's dead but his body is in a coma. Chris moved him from the hospital to their family home or somewhere in the woods or smth(despite their bitch mother's protest), and maybe Bobby or someone moves his body regulary to prevent bedsore. He got all sorts of tubes, monitors and stuff plugged into him, and his spirit doesn't stay in that room for too long because it reminds him of his current helpless state and the burden he's putting on his family for simply being alive.

Maybe that makes his self-destructive tendency even worse and makes him want to move on for real. All that negative thought weakens his will to live, therefore, his soul's bond to the body, and the more it happens the more life Eliza gets to absorb from him like a leech.

His sense of responsibility and love for the family is the only thing that keeps him bound to the area, to his body. Also due to his unusual circumstance and Eliza's curse, he gets stronger during the night, especially when the moon is bright. If it's full moon, he goes full corporeal even, and only the older, higher-level ghosts could achieve that, but his will is so strong, that and the curse not only takes from him, it empowers his spiritual side, so both of them combined he is a force to be reckoned with. Especially if he's mad or determined. Or both.

But it also has a downside. The more ghost power he uses, the weaker the link between his soul and body gets, and one time, he over-exerted himself, and his body suffered cardiac arrest. After seeing Chris completely break down over it, Travis has been more careful using his powers.

I dunno. Maybe one of the counselors find the secret room, or a secluded cabin or smth and there's an unconscious man lying on the bed, surrounded with all sorts of medical equipments. Obviously Travis won't reveal that he's still alive, since his body is his weakness, so for them to find out the 'Patrolling Phantom of Hackett's Quarry' is not actually a phantom? That'll be quite a reveal.

If he does manage to wake up, it'll be awful. Sure, he's alive, but ow. Everything hurts. He's so disoriented, so weakened after 6 years, it doesn't help that he's old, and he didn't realize until now that a body could be this heavy and cumbersome. But with the curse gone the body quickly recovers, although he's still bed-ridden for awhile. Fluffy reunion maybe. I never leave constance alive in my stories so assume she's a goner😊 Only Chackett Thackett tearful hug and good vibes everyone. The kids got their uncle back! And they know he cared for them for all those years too.

He'll look at life in different light and maybe learn to enjoy his second chance.

Felt like being fluffy 'cuz I had a decent day. Travis x Happiness forever.

[conscience-killer]

18, 20, & 23

GEMMMAAAAAA MY DUDE! <3333

18) were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? what were they?

Hmmm. I don't think I get influenced as such, but I do feel that some of my best stuff gets written when I'm in the middle of reading a book. I think I absorb things somewhat, yanno? I basically go, "Ooh, words are good." And then words happen.

For example, Lost Souls Forever was written while I was reading NOS4A2 (hence a few references in that fic), See That Animal was written while I was rereading Stephen King's It, Figure It Out was written while I was rereading His Dark Materials, and All His Suits Are Torn was written while I was rereading Intensity.

I'm currently rereading Good Omens while I work on Father of All Motherfuckers ch. 2. (And there may or may not be a couple o sneaky refs in there. 😂)

20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?

I'd like to write in long sit-down sessions, but it's mostly little spurts. My old job dictated that I had very little time to sit and write as much as I'd like, so I'd basically have a day a week where I could really get stuck in, and I'd just squeeze in whatever I could whenever I could. That being said, I start a new job next week (first time in 20 years, yikes!) and it's an actual full-time position with actual full-time office hours so I don't have to write around shifts anymore. Hopefully it won't hinder my process too much. :D

23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?

Oh, Gemma. :') I shall link the Shit I Done Referenced document, because there's a fucktonne of real-life experiences in there, obscure and otherwise, particularly in the Sunny fics. Having a gentle background in substance abuse helps just a tad with those lol.

Here’s a couple of examples in case that whole doc is TL;DR:

Charlie chewing the ecstasy is a reference to a real-life situation from my misspent youth. Essentially a friend joined us quite late on in the night, he was pretty drunk/stoned/whatever by this point. We handed him an E, as one does, and instead of just dropping it like a normal person the poor bastard stuck it in his mouth and chewed it – very, very slowly. The look on his face was priceless as it dawned on him what he’d done – he went from grinning like a guy who’s just been given a free pill to ‘OH DEAR GOD MY TONGUE MY TASTEBUDS WHY DID I DO THIS’. Suffice to say he took a long drink after that lmao.

And:

Frank’s inability to cross the street due to car trails happened to a friend of mine back in the day. (Thankfully not myself, but I did have a conversation/argument with Michael Douglas on the cover of ‘The Game’ whilst dabbling with acid. Kids: Don’t do drugs.)

Aaaand:

Charlie drinking his mom’s perfume is a reference to an event that happened in my youth, where we dared a friend to drink some Old Spice. He ended up pissing through the neighbours’ mailbox.

There’s a bunch more but you get the gist lol.

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

After six long months, I present to you:

Tupelo Honey

Word Count- 3k

Warnings- language, angst, discussion of abortion

A/N- With help from familiar strangers, Honey makes a choice that will change Leon's life and hers forever.

Chapter 4: Angel of The Morning

Late fall of 1968, Morning:

Honey clutched at the pillow as her hips flew towards the ceiling. Her back arched before she bent forward and twisted her free hand in Leon's thick hair. His name echoed off the bedroom walls as she came without caring if they woke Johnny this early.

Honey’s chest heaved as her body attempted to regulate her breath. Leon threw the sheets back and looked up at her. His hand absently ran up and down her stomach to her breasts and back.

“What?” Honey’s voice was sleepy as she met a green-eyed gaze. She propped up on her elbows when his brows knit together. “What's wrong?”

“Not much, love. It's just, your..” Leon's cheeks turned kinda pink, “stuff tastes different. You been eating anything new?”

“No? You mean it tastes different when I cum?”

“Just this time. You gonna start your thing?” He pointed towards Honey’s sex. “Period.”

“I don't think so. Should be around any day now though.”

Leon crawled up towards the pillows and laid down beside his girlfriend. His arm draped across her collarbone as he snuggled up to her shoulder. He nipped at the skin before kissing it. Then pressed his forehead into her neck.

Honey caught a scent of herself on him. “It even kinda smells different. I better get to the clinic just in case. I've not felt that weird other than that stomach bug.” Her nails lightly scratched Leon's forearm as she spoke. “I can't have an STI, since you went all mad and demanded my undying monogamy.”

Leon ignored her. “Maybe,” he yawned and stretched his impossibly long arms and legs straight out, “you caught a case of the pregnancy.” He sat up and leaned down to kiss her stomach.

“Don't say that!” Leon's familiar whine filled Honey’s own voice. “I won't keep it. That's legal here now.”

Leon stared back at her, “Just like that.”

“It's my body, Leonidas. Look at how short I am. Imagine this knocked up,” Honey waved a hand down the length of her naked self.

“I do.” It came out a whisper. Honey glowered. “Don't pull that face on me, Gracie. I know it's your body. We just ain't exactly safe with our shaggin’ are we? Leavin’ it up to chance. Then you get angry if there's one on the way. Keep it. End it. Give it up for adoption. I know it's YOUR choice. You tell me all the bloody time about it being your body. I respect that because I love you. Before you give me cheek, I think about having a baby with you loads.”

“Leon that's not what we want.” Honey sat up on her haunches beside him. “Look at us. We share a one bedroom flat with a ginger con man that we don't even sleep in half the time based on whether he wants to fuck someone or not. Our loo is literally a closet, and we have to shower at your parents’. There's one dresser and half a wardrobe for both of us. Where the hell would we even PUT a baby let alone afford to have one.”

“We've saved money! My parents would help us get a proper house or flat. Or stay with them until we could.”

“Oh sure. Us, your parents, your Yia Yia, one uncle and a baby. Sounds cozy.”

“I grew up in a place with more living there than that. We could get a loan.”

“What will we put down for occupations, Leon?!” Honey was losing her cool. A wave of nausea hit her, but she choked it back. “Occasional actor, waiter, and FBI fugitive?! I can't out myself like that.”

“We lie. I'm an actor. I'm sure you know loads of people who could fake it. Look respectable. I'll cut my hair and clean up my face.” Leon was equally annoyed, hands fidgeting in his lap. His legs started to bounce up and down as he reached, but fumbled with the nightstand drawer.

“Don't you fucking dare cut that hair. Who will we even pretend to be? Patti Boyd and fucking George Harrison? I'm an awful blonde and your hair would take hours to straighten. Leon we would have to fake marriage certificates. That's fraud. Real and proper, honest prison time fraud.”

Leon ignored her and finally yanked the drawer practically in half. The handle came off in his hands causing him to mumble under his breath and drop it to the ground. In a fury he tossed the contents aside in a search for something Honey wasn't sure of.

“If you're about to get high, I'll fucking leave you right now.” Honey got up and snapped her fingers in Leon's face. “We're not done talking about this.”

He looked up at her, his green eyes ablaze for the first time in their relationship. “I'm not GETTING high! Will you quit talking to me like I'm a bloody fucking child? You and Johnny always like I'm mad or deficient. I have a university degree from Cambridge, and I speak three languages. I'm observant not stupid.”

“That's.. That's not what I meant,” Honey bit her lip. “You are one of the smartest guys I've ever met. I just.. Worry about the amount of opium you started sneaking into your pot. You're working less and letting Johnny call the shots.”

Leon was lost in his search, “You’re just jealous of someone else pushing me around?” He waved his hand dismissively before Honey could answer. “I’m fine, love. I'm just a bit stressed is all. It helps me relax.”

“Leon, it's heroin. You know what happened to my uncle.”

He ignored her, “I’ll be swell. Promise. Plus I think this idea Johnny has finally.. DAMMIT WHERE'S THAT TOSSER OF A RING?!”

Something fell off the bed onto the wooden floor with a PING! Leon got down on all fours, stark naked and put his eye to the wood. His arm outstretched and came back to him with an object between his long fingers. He held it aloft towards Honey and took her tiny hand inside of his large one. Honey stopped breathing.

“It's not exactly proper, but you aren't exactly a girl into convention, are ya?” Leon smiled up at his girlfriend. He kissed the back of Honey’s hand. “You think better of me than I think of myself. I want to make you happy, and I want to be a good husband and daddy. If this meeting tonight doesn't go well, I'll stop acting. No more pot or opium or acid or coke right bloody now. I'll get a proper job and we can get a proper house and when the time comes, you choose whatever you want. Stay home. Go to work, I'll stay home. So you aren't loaded down by the patriarchy or whatever.”

“Leon,” Honey’s face was pale and she started to swoon. She saw the way his hand swallowed hers, and panicked. Her fucked up brain saw herself lost in Leon the same way.

“Even if we go to the court, just us. Even if we have to leave London because you're worried. I'll go with you. To India like you sorted out before we met. I don't want you to give up on any dream because of this baby. Or me.”

Before she could get any answer out, Leon slid the ring on Honey’s finger. It was stunning, carved marble and amethyst. She knew it was old, Grecian.

“It's purple because Dionysus cried and spilled his wine onto a maiden he offended by his drunkenness. Artemis protected her, turned her to crystal and she absorbed his wine. It sobered him. Your love, when I'm not foolish, will sober me.”

“Leon,” Honey said again, unable to say anything else.

“Will you please marry me, Gracie?”

The question was so pure. His eyes were so green and hopeful. Honey couldn't think or speak around the lump in her throat. But then..

“I can't,” she whispered. “I have to go to the clinic. You've got an early shift at the restaurant.”

Honey was numb as she pulled on some clothes and her coat. She left the flat and Leon naked on his knees in the bedroom.

----

Later that afternoon:

Honey stared straight passed the nurse as she explained exactly what would happen if she decided to not keep the baby. How they suggest she not be alone and to have someone willing to care for her. To make sure there's no infection.

“Ultimately, dove, it's your decision. Unless you're cold-hearted, it might do your head in. It's not as easy as you modern girls think. You might not regret it, but you might. You prepared? Is your husband keen on this idea too?” The nurse nodded at the ring.

“Oh.. we aren't.. I didn't really give him a choice?”

“Well let's see if you're even pregnant first. Then I want you to go back to your partner and have a good talk. Promise me you'll do that?”

The young woman smiled. It was tentative and nervous. “Yeah. Ok. But it won't change my mind.” She held out her arm for the blood draw and took a cup and left for the loo.

Honey sat on the stairs of the clinic and bent down in a wave of nausea. It was amazing that now she knew she was knocked up the symptoms seemed to worsen. Like how noticing a paper cut makes it suddenly sting.

Her breasts were swollen and a fire built in her chest and stomach every time she laid down. What was the absolute worst, she came to realize, how mean she had been to Leon. A total uncool bitch. Honey looked down at the amethyst on her ring finger and began to cry.

“Hey man, you ok?” a voice asked. American.

“Jesus, don't call her man! What is wrong with you?” a female American voice.

“Leave me alone! Last time I was here, I was in Vietnam. I'm freaking the fuck out, Sel.”

“weren't you a cu-”

“Uh!! This is about them, not me.”

One of them sat down next to Honey. “My brother is right, are you ok? Honey, right?”

Honey looked up to meet eyes that almost took her breath away. A young woman around her age smiled and it reminded her of Leon. Her shoulder length hair had soft waves and curls, but her eyes. Her eyes somehow looked like Honey’s.

“Do I know you?” she squinted her eyes and tilted her head.

“Not yet,” the woman’s cheeks pinked a little. “We're.. Leon's..”

“Cousins!” a male voice interjected.

“I didn't know Leon had cousins from- Fuck me on the tube.”

“Tempting, but I don't think Leon would be down for that.” The inflection of his voice, despite being yank, was so much like his.. cousin’s. “My sister and I have been looking all over this stupid city for you the last few days. To meet you before we left. Leon told my sister you were here. He seemed pretty pissed. This is an uh,” he gestured at the building.

“Abortion clinic?”

“You sure that's how you want to handle it?” the young woman questioned softly.

“Well I don't think Leon has the balls to push me down the stairs,” Honey shrugged.

Leon’s cousin, if that's who she was heaved a sigh. “I like to think I have a sharp tongue and a bit of a shrewd mind. I get it from MY mom. Can I be straight with you?”

“I mean I guess it's easier from a stranger?”

“I know for a FACT you won't be giving up on anything. You are already more involved in changing the world than most people your age. And that doesn't have to stop because you're pregnant. Activists can have children or partners. Take her with you! Take Leon! You come from a long line of shit kickers, right?”

Honey narrowed her eyes. She studied this woman’s face again. Her eyes. HER eyes somehow. But Leon’s features. If she had a daughter, this is who she would want her to be. Sharp, like herself, but optimistic like her daddy.

Daddy.. “Did you say her? How do you know any of this? I swear Leon’s family is here or in Greece. You've got to be close, this one is like fucking Patty Duke. Identical cousins. Man you sure you're cool?”

He scratched his body and Honey heard a tinkling. Then she saw the dog tags. “Yeah I'm gravy.” He looked the way Leon had when she rejected him earlier. It broke Honey’s heart all over.

“Drafted?”

He held out his tags and had this longing in his eyes, “Love.”

“You went to Vietnam for love?”

“I stayed for it. Hardest thing I've ever done besides sobriety. Having a kid and an old man is a fucking piece of cake. If you were gonna go through with.. Termination, I think you would've done it right?”

“I just don't know if I have good enough of a reason besides maybe it'll be fine. I don't know what is freaking me the hell out! We both have happily married parents!! And grandparents. But I've put so much on hold for men. I've let them.”

“Yeah but Leon’s not like that.”

“No. He's not. But the drugs and the hare brained schemes terrify me. My uncle, Lenny Bruce? He ran cons with his wife that he knocked up and they were just. Tumultuous. He loved heroin almost more than Honey and Kitty. It killed him in the end. I don't want Leon and I to be the fluke too.”

“If I tell you to say the FIRST thing that comes to your mind about Leon. No thinking, open your mouth and speak. What is the first part of him you think of.”

“His kind eyes. Your eyes,” she gestured towards the man. “Yours are a bit lost, but they're still just as gentle.”

He bit his lip. Honey noticed it trembled just a tad. “Same thing,” his voice hoarse. “What's the first thing that you would DO for him?”

“Be with him in every life we've ever lived and ever will.”

The woman beside her took Honey’s hand in both of hers. Her annoying familiarity forced Honey to listen to everything she was about to say.

“My parents came from a similar taboo situation. They were immigrants (my dad twice), during the worst war. Activists who got in a bit of a mess. They were separated for a while when my mom was pregnant with me. She had me alone. Yet they have been together for OVER 25 years.”

“I cannot imagine two people better suited for each other than my parents. They trust one another IMPLICITLY and are both still very attracted to one another. Trust me. It's gross.!

“Now they have a successful business. My younger brother and I have our own jobs to pay for ourselves, but our parents are paying for us to go to school. Marriage or partnerships are work, but I have seen that it's worth it. I hope I can be as fearless as they are one day.”

Honey took her hand back and rubbed her face. “Why are you two so hell bent on me staying knocked up? Like there’s something real heavy you're not telling me.”

“We're just like, REALLY invested in Leon’s happiness!” the woman exclaimed.

“Or we could just tell her? I saved Dave that way.”

Honey narrowed her eyes, “Convincing.”

“You and Leon and this baby are going to literally save the world?”

“Alright,” Leon's doppelganger decided to take a turn. “Someone took me away from our mom when I was just a baby. I was raised pretty abusively. But I found my parents, OUR parents,” he gestured at his sister. “They just.. welcomed me in, AND my other adopted siblings.”

“You are so, so much like her. You and Leon are like BOTH of our parents. Really we Kostases.. Kosti? We leap without looking. If we fly, we fly. So I know what Leon's decision is. You said it yourself, he's worth being with in every life you live. Isn't that your answer?”

Honey sighed again and stood up. She looked back and forth between the man and woman claiming to have her best interest at heart. The siblings with her eyes and Leon’s. “I can't just rush into this.”

“Says the woman who fell in love on the set of a porno film.”

Honey ignored him. Ignored how he knew that. She put her hand on her stomach tenderly. “I have to say, if we have this kid, I'm not sure why, but I hope it.. she's like you. What's your name?”

“Selina. After the moon.”

Honey smiled in a knowing way. “Stick around, I'm sure Leon would love to see you.”

“We can't, but you'll understand all of this one day.”

“I'll see you again?”

“I promise.”

Then Honey and the cousins parted ways. She and Leon had a lot to discuss.

Tag: @neuroticpuppy @elliethesuperfruitlover @messengeronthemoon @super-unpredictable98 @bisexualnathanyoung @forenschik @nightmonsters @firstpersonnarrator @rob-private @frogs--are--bitches @ghouls-buddy @a-ghoulish-tale @bwritesstuff @icecoffeegirl @070188

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Dangerous Love (Pt. 02 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 2.9K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

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{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

×

Confessions:

You're up when Bruce comes, a tray in his hand, resting your back against the headboard, playing with your hair.

“Aren't you scared?” You ask him as he locks the door and puts the keys in his pocket.

“Scared of what? You?”

“Of the information I have now. Do you have any idea how many people would pay me to know who's the man behind the bat's mask?” As you speak, Bruce puts the tray on the nightstand. A sandwich and orange juice. You can't remember the last time you ate something so... Normal.

“What? Don't you like orange juice?”

“No, I...” The memories fill your head, like a flood. Tied up to the bed, people hovering over you. But you push it all back. You're a criminal, as dangerous as the Joker or Harley, your beloved sister. You're used to such treatments, and you don't care. “Won't you put all of it in a blender, then feed it to me through a straw? Put it on my nose and push it all the way down to my stomach.” You can't help but laugh at Bruce's face. Disgust, perplexity. “Oh, chill. That's nothing I can't deal with.”

“Haven't you noticed it yet? That I won't hurt you? Or treat you like an animal?”

“Well, you are keeping me here. Against my will. A golden prison is still a prison.” You're trying not to let the food get your attention, but you're starving. And the fact that it's real food makes it even harder.

“I'm only keeping you here because I know that if I set you free, you'll go back to your old life. And will probably end up in Belle Reve again.” Bruce gestures at the tray. “Eat, please.”

“If you ask so nicely.” Taking the tray, you place it on your lap, leaving the glass on the nightstand. Controlling yourself, you take a small bite, trying not to let it show how good it tastes. It feels weird to chew again, almost unnatural.

“I have to say a few things, so pay attention.” Bruce starts, eyes on you. “I'm aware they had you... Sedated... in Belle Reve. And from now on you won't be taking anything else then what I judge necessary. So you'll feel the reactions of the detoxification.”

“I will need painkillers. Heavy stuff.” You tell him in between bites.

“Are you hurt?”

Laying half of the sandwich down, you put the tray away, getting on your knees. “Wanna see how's the skin of a Belle Reve's intern?” Smiling, you lift your shirt, showing him your belly, stomach and ribs. You look down too, eyes observing the pattern of purple bruises, all over your skin. When you look at Bruce again, you don't understand the his expression. It looks like he cares, but there is no reason for him to do so. He's a hero, and you're the villain, his only job is to put you down. He's not supposed to care. “Don't look so surprised, Bruce. I'm used to it. I'm constantly high, so the pain is distant, numbed. Without what they give me... It will hurt.”

“Finish your sandwich.” He simply says, looking away and pacing around.

You decide to obey him just because it does taste good. The juice too. When you're done, you lay the tray back on the nightstand. “So... What now?”

He seems troubled, nervous. “Come and sit here.” He gestures at the armchair. Rolling your eyes, you do as he says. He's seated before you, and you feel like you're in a therapy session.

“May the interrogation begin,” you mutter, crossing your legs and arms.

“I want you to be honest. I just want to understand you.”

“What do you think you can get from that?” Shrugging your shoulders, you lean forward. You try to read him, to understand why is he doing this. Then you remember that he wants to prove a point. “Oh, I just remembered. I'm your project. Your lab rat.” What else could you be in the house of one of the heroes?

“Wouldn't you like to be able to have a normal life? A job you like, your own place, coming and going as you please?”

“I had all that before being thrown into hell on Earth.” As you speak, you feel your head spinning. Is it the detox working on already? You feel a fog in the back of your mind, and you feel your muscles relaxing. Taking a deep breath, you run a hand through your hair. This is not detoxification, this is something else. “What did you gave me?”

“Just something to make you tell me the truth.”

Laughing, you bite your lip. “You're amazing, I have to say.” Your mind is slower, you feel it. You wonder if your body is slower too, or if you could try to escape again. But Bruce is on high alert, you can see it. His eyes never leave you, watching your every move.

“How was your life? Childhood.”

“I know you read my files, Bruce Wayne. Ask something you don't know.” You hate feeling numb. Hugging your knees, you close your eyes shut, trying to shake away the feeling.

“I want to hear it from you.” His voice is distant, like an echo. Is it too much to ask to be left alone? To be awake, fully in control of yourself, your words and feelings... “I'm just trying to help you, and to do that, I need you to be honest. And since I didn't know if you'd cooperate, I had to give you-”

“You're only giving me what you judge necessary, right?” You hiss, face hidden on your knees. “Ask away, Batman. My life is an open book to you and to anyone who thinks to be better than me just because they have the upper hand.”

“Both my parents were killed in front of me when I was a kid.” Bruce bursts out, and it makes you look at him immediately. “I saw their dead bodies, the blood... That night is still a vivid memory, it never leaves me.”

You don't know what he expects you to say. You don't have good memories with your parents to say that you know how he feels. “Bad mother. Dead father, never met him. Harley left home early so I was left alone to deal with a drug addict mother. High School was nice, but that was when I started going out with Harley. Late night parties, dangerous people. I started to learn things, to enjoy those things... Then I knew I wanted that life. It was easy money, easy fun, and people respected me because I was under Harley's protection and she was under the Joker's protection.” It comes out, it doesn't matter if you want it or not. “The story of my life.”

“In the first two years of High School, your grades were high. In senior year, they started to drop. Was that because of your sister?”

“Yeah. I just wanted it to be over, and when I managed to graduate, I left home to be with Harley. But soon enough I built my own place, my own empire, and I didn't need her anymore.” This thing he gave you really works because you're not saying the words you want to.

“Why did you enjoy doing what your sister did?”

“It was so fun... So... Dangerous. The adrenaline is addicting and I never really... I never really...” You bite your tongue, holding it back. You tell yourself to be strong, to get a grip of reality, that you can beat whatever is affecting your mind.

“You never really what?”

You're breathing fast, wondering how long until this damn drug is out of your system.

“You never really what?" Bruce repeat, his voice soft and low.

“I never really had anything else. Anyone else.” It comes out, fast and heavy. “My father died when I was a baby, my mother was a damn drug dealer who made the mistake of tasting her product and I had to keep the few friends I had away from my messed up life and the only way to do that was to push them the hell away.” You feel dizzy, covering your head with both hands. “The more time I spent with Harley and her crew, the more I learned, the more fearless I became and the more they respect me. They feared me.” Why can't you stop talking? Your body isn't trying to get rid of the drug, but it's still absorbing it, making it run through your veins to fulfill its purpose. “I didn't need their kindness, their love, their affection because I could have their fear. I had them do as I said when I said it because they were scared of me. That's the only thing I know!” You're yelling, leaning forward to face Bruce. “I can't be rehabilitated because I don't even know what it's supposed to be like. People don't care about me and I don't care about them. People don't love me, and I don't love them. People aren't kind to me so I won't ever be kind to them. They only do something for me because I have a gun pointed at their faces or because they know I can snap my fingers and have them hurt. This is who I am! This is the mess, the chaos that I am and you're an idiot if you think you can fix me!”

You don't care anymore. You just need to get the hell out of this place. The key is in his pocket, so you attack him. You aim a punch to his face knowing he'll grab your wrist, and when he does, you use the opening to his stomach to kick him hard. You're thrown away, colliding to the side of the bed, but you don't stop to pay attention to the sharp pain on your side. Bruce is standing up now, but his size doesn't scare you. You've fought men like him before. You're used to have a gun, but being unarmed won't make you step down.

Using all your strength, you push his chest hard, succeeding to place a punch in his jaw. He doesn't move much, but it's enough to give you the opportunity to kick his crotch. But Bruce sees what's coming, kicking your leg away and from under you, what sends you hard to the ground. You lay on your arm, and a sharp pain spreads through your left shoulder. Your body isn't working as it usually does. It's slower, it's hurting... The damn drugs they gave you are wearing off. You need to get out of here before they're out of your system.

When Bruce steps closer, you move up to grab his arm, pulling him down as you kick both his legs with all the strength you still have. He collapses the floor beside you, and you take the chance to punch his face again.

“That's enough.” He yells, grabbing both your wrists with one hand, and a groan escapes your lips when he squeezes them to push them away from his face. You're moving to kick his ribs with your knee, but you're lifted up suddenly. You feel pure agony as you violently try to set free. Bruce uses his free hand to grab your legs and throw you on the bed. You're ready to set in motion again, but you're caught off guard by a wave of pain.

You start counting mentally. This is the second day here. It means three days ago you were in your cell, and you remember them injecting the medication. They still wanted you to sleep. But you also remember the slight discomfort that you started feeling a week ago. As if your body was more awaken then usual. It's not like they don't want you to be in pain, they just want you to keep functional, so you can endure more pain without being motionless in a bed for days.

“How long... How long did you have them reduce my drugs?” You ask him, catching your breath.

“Nine days.” He simply answers, fixing his clothes.

“I need something for the pain.” You touch your left shoulder with the right hand, closing your eyes shut. “Shit.”

“Let me see it.” Bruce comes closer, and you open your eyes to see if he'll try anything. He bends over, pulling the arm away from your body. You wince, biting back a groan. “A subluxation.” He pushes your shoulder back, and you hear a crack before a new wave of pain spreads through your arm.

“What the hell?” You exclaim, pushing him away with the other arm.

“It was just a partial dislocation of the shoulder joint. But it's back on its place now, you will be fine.”

“I thought you said you wouldn't hurt me,” you mumble, breathing fast, still holding your shoulder.

“Are you kidding me? Am I supposed to be let you beat me? Because I know what you're capable of.”

“Are you scared of me? You. Six feet tall, a mountain of muscles. What? Can't you take a beating from me?” He can. “I can take a beating from you, hero. I've been taking beatings for a year now, on a regular basis.” You have to push the memories away before they flood your mind. The numbness from the medication makes it worse since you're awake to feel the hit, but the body isn't. You know it hurts, that it'll hurt later, but you keep being hurt. Over and over again, non stop. “I asked them to stop once, during my first week there. Do you know why they were beating me that day?” You stand on your knees, holding your left arm close to your body. Your stomach burns and you feel tears in your eyes, but you hold them back. Tears won't get you anywhere, anger will.

“Because you attacked someone." Bruce seems so sure of it, that it makes you laugh.

“I demanded a coat. A damn coat because it was cold!” You're yelling, fighting back the tears, laughing instead. “I asked them to stop, big mistake. It only made it worse. From that day on I decided to just take it. To endure it because that's what I deserve.” Lifting your shirt to show him the bruises, you feel one single tear rolling down. “See this? I survived through every single one of these.” Why are you crying? You don't cry. Clenching your fist, you bring it against your ribs hard, and the pain that follows is greater than you expected. You gasp, falling forward.

“Stop it." Bruce takes both your wrists, pushing you to lie down “If you do this again, I'll chain you up.”

“Don't worry about me,” you mutter, smiling. “I can take this.”

“I don't care if you can take this, I don't want you hurting yourself.”

“I don't need to hurt myself, everyone else does it for me.” Your voice is weak, and you look away from him. Bruce let's go of your wrists but doesn't move. He's seated on the bed, right beside you.

“I know it's hard for you to understand it, but as long as you're here, nobody will hurt you. I won't hurt you.”

With a hand on your forehead, you avoid his stare. “If it was the other way around... If I kidnapped and kept you in a room, locked... You'd be scared too. You would know I was going to hurt you.”

“It's true. But I didn't kidnap you.” You feel when he stands up, watching as he pulls the armchairs back to their places. “I choose you because I want to help you. If this works, I might get you a pardon. You would be free.”

“I admire your hope, Bruce Wayne, but you just don't understand. I don't know how to deal with people anymore. The only relationship I know is the ones where I give an order and it is obeyed. Anything other than that doesn't exist. Not for me. I'm a criminal, I meant to be hated.” You're not proud of this, not now. There's a part of you, deep down inside, that wish it could change. If only you could go back in time and change things... But now it's too late. You are who you are, the person you built yourself to be. “Give up. Throw me back into Belle Reve before I get used to nice baths and comfortable beds.”

“I'll see you tonight.” He says before leaving the room, and you sigh to hear the door locking.

You're used to the loneliness. Turning off the lights and closing the curtains, you lay in the darkness. You follow the logic of Belle Reve. Since there's nothing to do, there's no reason to keep the lights on. Darkness is where you belong, they say, then live in it. And so you do.

You have a good notion of the time passing, so you count the minutes, one by one. There's no way to know where you'll be tomorrow, if Bruce will accept the fact that this is stupid and send you back. But maybe it's for the best.

No, you have to focus. An opportunity. This is an opportunity to escape, and you need to take it. You can't let anything else get your attention, or distract you. You have to use this chance to go back home. To the only dirty, cold place you can call that.

×

@redwolf-7 @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21

[aimai-ronri]

Reworking the Fuzzy Gaming Quest

This is the first time I've ever blogged publicly about something like this. I usually talk to friends about it, but I just as often don't say anything, because when I talk about video-games I get hyperfocused and sometimes the conversation takes a long time, so I often feel like it's a bit rude to get people wrapped up in it. But I remembered I have a tumblr now and people actually blog on here sometimes, so: prepare to suffer.

To set up why I'm so weird about games allow me to explain: first of all, I'm obviously not neurotypical in some way I don't know but one day would like to figure out. SECOND, I've been playing video-games literally since I can remember. My first real memories of cognition are watching my dad put cartridges in the NES, and climbing on the bed to put our Thai bootleg cart in there myself so I could play weird sprite hacks of Super Mario Bros. So anyway, gaming has factored heavily in my life since the beginning.

Anyway long story short, this has led to, for a long time, me wanting to leave some kind of legacy behind me in the form of a trail of beaten-up old video-games. Often this takes the form of just wanting to curate out a collection (physical or unholy--I mean digital) that I can leave behind in some state of completion, but on top of that it comes as me wanting to sit down and truly spend time with the games that are most important to my history over the course of my lifetime.

This has led to me making innumerable 'systems' for approaching the task of having a humongous backlog of video-games (some might say longer than is completable than anyone in a life time, and I recognize this) and often these systems get replaced or revised for being inadequate in some way. The latest no-thought system on my part was the Fuzzy Gaming Quest, in which the goal was basically to play through games starting from the beginning of time and blasting through at hyper-speed, with the intention of covering as much ground in order to induce familiarity as fast as possible with arcade games from an era I've rarely played (but longed for in my old man's soul).

This was working but I quickly ran into a snag (after recording about 250 videos 😥): I wasn't spending as much time with individual games as I'd like by any means. On one hand, I was backlogging games I was enjoying just to get them out of the way and continue the progress. On the other, sometimes I wasn't sure how much time you'd even spend with a game to consider yourself familiarized enough to rank it in some way, without necessarily having to beat everything (who has the time?). Not to mention arcade games that have no viable ending for the regular player (Pac-Man, Galaga, etc).

So anyway all this is leading up to me explaining the next iteration of the Fuzzy Gaming Quest. Here's a picture!

What you're looking at is essentially a 7 day scoreboard for various games that I selected out as important during my previous pass through the 70s and most of the 80s. These are all games I wanted to play more of or possibly log in a list.

7 days is my naive answer to how long I think would be good to spend on a game, in order to get competent enough at it to get a decent score and/or feel you've experienced your average game enough to go ahead and put it somewhere in a list. It might seem like overkill for a simple arcade game (though I'd argue you need to play repeatedly and give your brain time to absorb it to get the true experience), and it may seem like underkill for an RPG (though I'd argue that most RPGs probably aren't changing much more if you've been playing for 7 days already, but this doesn't forbid from continuing to play if I choose to), but this is my naive and probably flawed answer, anyway.

This is meant to serve the purpose of: - Progressing reasonably fast (notice this is a list of basically banger games everyone has heard of, I will probably only include a few games here or there that are lesser known that I just happen to like--I'll also be avoiding some consoles intentionally that I don't particularly like (like the Odyssey 2, sorry, it's my list though--convince me otherwise if you like)) - Filtering into some kind of "best of" list (if I don't even want to play it for 7 days (in brief sessions), it must not be very good after all and doesn't deserve to be on any best of list I would leave behind me--games that I do get through the 7 days I should understand enough to rank competently enough to make myself happy) - Giving me an excuse to spend more time on the games that really matter to me, today, in case I get hit by a bus tomorrow - Giving me a target for when I'm able to comfortably say I've experienced a game enough and don't need to feel bad about moving on if I want to but still haven't "beat it," and also leaving room for playing more if I like (I can sort it, take it off the board, but finish it anyway on the DL) (Also, if I do beat it, I can stop there with the board) - Satisfying whatever kind of ADHD thing I have going on by allowing me to keep a variety of games on rotation for some amount of time and not just getting stuck behind one game at a time - Breaking game experiences down over multiple days to allow a longer time to think about them and grow accustomed to them, also to allow me to fit them into my busy schedule by playing Space Invaders on the toilet for ~10 minutes - To leave behind a journal of high scores or information about how far I got in various games as I plod on

So, you may (rightly) ask: What's the point of all this? Why can't I just play games that I like and call it a day?

Well my first answer would be, "shut up I know you're right I just can't, my brain is broken," but my second answer, the one I would say aloud, might be that I really have always wanted to take a targeted approach to going through all of game history and that's what this is in service of.

I have no false expectations about getting all the way through game history up to now in one lifetime, at least not without sacrificing a lot of games in the process. I definitely won't ever get to the point where I'm always keeping up with contemporary games. It's lucky for me that I mostly fell out of favor with games around 2011 for various reasons, but really it had been a steady decline of interest since about 2005 or so. I have a shorter-hand target, but if I were to ever reach it, I'd like to keep going on, even if it means playing PS4 games in 2061 when I'm almost as old as my dad is now.

Anyway, your second question (and wow, if you made it this far) might be: "so what does this mean for your tumblr, which I care about intimately after seeing 20 posts, and was gutted when you temporarily took a break, and have been looking for meaning in my life ever since?"

Well, true believer, if you want I might post my 7 day high-score for various arcade games or something along with some pictures or videos of high points of the game (when I get to games complicated enough to have cool art). I haven't decided yet. I'm open to suggestions! I'd love to see people try to (and succeed!) at beating my scores (I'd feel like I influenced someone into maybe playing some old, great game they wouldn't have before deciding to just then).

If nothing else I hope it was interesting to see my thought process about this stuff.

If that's not true, I hope you were entertained by a write up of someone's journey ever deeper into video-game delirium.

And yes, I will get frustrated with the system and change it again in approximately a month.

[nana-n-nono]

Starborn

cw: mentions of death, mild injury, fire, lmk what else

SBB says: This thing is gigantic and got completely out of hand (at a word count of 7726 oh my god) but I hope you like it anyways and find some interesting lore points! Please do yell at me in the ask box! I'll try to have Jeno's up in less time but honestly it probably won't come out until end of August just before the event ends anyways lol.

They say in Soladium that being born is as instantaneous and explosive as a supernova. Jaemin always thought that was a bit odd, considering supernovas only occur when stars die. There's never an explanation either, when he asks. It's always, you'll understand when you're older.

According to the history books, the kingdom of Soladium was birthed the same way. It appeared entirely overnight. One day there was barren land under twin suns that were far too hot for life, the next a single sun and a brilliant realm built of white gold and molten lava. People questioned of course. Where did the second sun go? How did they do this? The first king answered none of these, instead going forth to conquer surrounding realms with swift and deadly force. These realms were by no means small either, the ancient lands of Tonitrua and Beongae being some of the lands razed. Soladium was fearfully hailed as a kingdom built in a single lunar cycle and as an empire built nearly as fast.

Now, those days seem like only stories, exaggerations from history. Memory is imperfect in that way. But Jaemin, and really every royal of Soladium, knows they're real. Knows that Soladium on the surface may seem like a cheerful, festive kingdom built on the foundations of honesty and sincerity, but that it lives on a foundation of bloodshed and deceit. It's hard to reconcile at times. You would look at someone like Jaemin and think, how can he be lethal?

True, Jaemin does not look particularly deadly. He's tall but he's not broad like his brother, nor does he seem clever like his sister. Often people will whisper that Jaemin was raised as a carefree child and that his parents spoiled him despite his status as the second prince, the second heir to the throne. Jaemin's inclined to agree with them to some degree, he was spoiled and he is carefree. But like everything in Soladium, that which is bright is built on something dark. And he is no exception to that rule.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Concentrate. Feel the heat around you. Feel it rise, heat always rises. Feel the intensity, that life breathes into—

"Your highness?"

Jaemin's head snaps up, a pure deer in the headlights look on his face as he's startled out of his training. The messenger sighs to themselves, fondly of course. It's well know that the second prince will get wrapped up in anything, and that he needs to be reminded of his other duties. But no one has the heart to tell him to stop, not when he looks so excited when he succeeds. Not when he looks so absorbed, eyes locked into whatever he’s studying when he’s concentrating. Jaemin clears his throat. “Yes?”

“I apologize for the disturbance, but your mother is requesting your presence in the courtyard.” The messenger sweeps into a bow and then straightens up, opening the door. Ah, so then it’s an immediate summons. The prince sighs, getting up and dusting off his trousers. Casual wear for the day, stuff he can run in since he had morning training with the weapons master. He nods to the messenger to lead the way, following closely behind. What could mother be summoning him for?

Even before entering the courtyard, Jaemin could sense his mother. Not through heat sensing, though he could do a bit of that as well, but rather through sheer presence. The queen was a formidable woman, even by Petramus standards. Tall, regal with a hard set jaw and narrow eyes. She was terrifying, at first glance. But underneath all that was a woman who based her strength in kindness, someone who was never afraid to stand up for justice and happiness. She didn’t back down on anything, didn’t back down from anyone. Though Soladium was a patriarchal society, the queen stood on equal ground as her beloved the king, and Jaemin admired that so.

The ideal behind marrying a Petramus princess to a Soladium prince was to form political alliances, of course, but also to try and instill a new set of values in the children of their union. Soladium’s undying determination and pride, Petramus’s stone cold analytics and cleverness. But it seemed there was still some way to go, with the first prince falling more into Soladium’s habits while the first princess fell into Petramus. Jaemin, it seemed, sort of fell into neither. An oddball.

As soon as Jaemin steps into the courtyard, the quiet chattering ceases and the queen turns with a beautiful smile. "My baby," she coos, reaching her arms out from where she sat. Jaemin immediately steps into her embrace, pressing a kiss to her temple as she does to his.

“Mother.” The queen gestures to her side to the empty space reserved for him. The bench is quite small, especially considering the size of the queen’s skirts that flare out but Jaemin still manages to sit down without accidentally sitting on the silken fabrics. “What is it?”

“My baby,” she repeats, but it’s different. A touch sadder. Jaemin leans into her touch when she cups his face with one hand, thumb caressing his cheekbone. "Oh, my precious Jaemin-ah."

He stays quiet, unsure what to say. What to ask. There have been few times in his life that his mother has taken this tone. When his grandfather died. When he was so ill they thought he may not survive. This tone is always accompanied by the pain of loss, potential or real.

"As you know," she starts softly, "You'll be fifteen soon." Between when he sat and when she began speaking, all the servants had stepped away to the edge of the courtyard, leaving only the two of them. Jaemin nods. Of course he knows, it's his own birthday for one but for two it's his Blessed day, so the entire court has been preparing for this. His birthday is happening in only a few days, but the planning for festivities has been so much longer. Months of color design, decor placement, outfit tailoring, inviting foreign royals. Of course Jaemin knows.

He also knows that Blesseddays are special. They're secretive and sacred but after a Blessed day, people change. They grow into themselves, whatever that mean for them. For Jaemin's older brother that meant becoming more confident and bold, bordering brutally honest with every passing day. Jaemin's older sister embraced her innovative spirit, devoting all her time to strategy and intelligence. That wasn't to say they weren't those things before their Blessed days, but after... It was like they'd been shocked into realizing their life purpose or something. It was, frankly, a bit terrifying for a young Jaemin. And just a bit lonely, though he'd never admit that.

Jaemin doesn't know what any of that has to do with the queen calling him today though. The way it works is that three days before the day of celebration, the person in question (Jaemin in this case) is brought somewhere (of course he doesn't know where yet) by the last person in the immediate family who had their Blessed days (Jaemin's sister in this case). Then they undergo some kind of ritual for the three days and emerge on their birthday to undergo a more public ritual. The public one is more for appearances than anything else, but it's an important ending to the whole process. The only part the queen needs to play is in the public ritual so... What's the whole point of this?

She doesn't say anything for a while, for a time that seems to stretch on and on though it's likely no more than a few minutes. Jaemin has his father's eyes but his mother's smile. A smile, no matter how small, is always the warmest thing in a room. A smile that embodies Soladium, as he's been told again and again. He offers this smile to her now, as reassuring as he can.

"I just wanted to see you," she says finally. Some part of Jaemin is confused and maybe a little disappointed. This seemed like something so serious and yet...? But he just smiles wider and tilts his head in her touch, childlike despite no longer being a child. Young, but not a child. That just seems to make her sadder, though she still smiles and boops his nose with her free hand like she did when he was a toddler. "You'll always be my baby, okay? No matter what, you'll always be my baby."

Jaemin really doesn't get it, maybe this is a nostalgia for him growing up? Still, he nods and replies, "Yes mother."

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Jaemin is awoken just as the sun begins to peak out from over the mountain tops. The break of dawn, three days before his birthday as promised. His sister, dressed in white robes with simple gold trimming herds him out of his room, ushering him into a bath first before dragging him down the hall, down the stairs, down down down. Jaemin has never been this far down. Jaemin hasn't seen another living soul since he woke up either, not in the bath, not in the halls. No knights, servants, gardeners... no one. His skin prickles at the loss of heat.

He's dressed in grandeur unlike his sister. A white shirt of satin, hand sewn with thread that is so fine and delicate it looks more like it was woven into the shirt rather than sewn in. Gems embellish the hems on the sleeves, the bottom of the shirt, the collar. And then simple slim fit trousers, in the same fashion except with some extra curling embroidery creeping up his legs. For once, he looks every bit the prince he's meant to be. And yet he feels so vulnerable, the satin unusually light and thin.

"Jaemin." His sister stops at the base of the stairs. How long have they been walking while he got caught up in his thoughts? A long ways down if the endlessly spiraling stairs above him have anything to say. It's entirely pitch black down here too, not a single light in sight. Jaemin only knows to turn to his sister by sound, by instinct. By...

Oh.

He inhales sharply. When he was first introduced to the idea of heat signatures, Jaemin was confused. Which was unusual, because nearly every living person in Soladium can pick up on heat signatures one way or another. But Jaemin had no idea what they were talking about. He was a rare case, someone who could not innately tell where heat was coming from. So they trained him from the beginning, and now he's made enough progress that if he concentrates, he can pick up strong heat signatures. But only strong ones. His sister's is not very strong, but what she's standing next to...

It's blinding. It's so, so very bright and Jaemin wants to take a step back. Something they teach you about sensing heat is to avoid things that are too hot. Most things will not fall in that range. Certainly not humans, at their internal 37°C count. Not even boiling water at 100°C. The limits alter per person but the general consensus is to cap out around 300°C. Some of the more talented individual can push it to 500°C. But this... Jaemin feels like his skin is melting, his throat is closing up, his eyes--

"Jaemin," his sister says softly. And just like that, he's back in darkness, gasping as he collapses onto the cool stone floor. For a few minutes, there's just the sound of Jaemin's wheezing. Deep breath in, hold, breathe out. Do it again.

"I won't be going any further with you. For the next three days, you'll be here alone. This place has everything you need, food, clothes, water, baths. Anytime during those days, you need to confront it. It doesn't need to be now, and it doesn't need to be in the last hour. But you must. If you don't..." She sounds so far away, echoing softer and softer. Jaemin wants to call to her, but he can't. He still can't breathe. Everything is unsteady. It's too dark, completely and utterly dark, and yet he still feels light fading around the edges of his non-existent vision. "Be brave Jaemin." A pause, so short it might not be a pause at all really. And then infinitely softer, so soft that he can barely catch it. "Until last light."

——————————————————————————————————————————————

When his eyes open again, Jaemin is 100% sure he's awake and yet it doesn't feel like it at all. Right. All consuming darkness. How Jaemin didn't break his neck walking down somehow eludes him, he's always been clumsy. He slowly gets up, but his body isn't stiff as expected. The stone beneath him is hard and cold, and yet he feels like he's just slept on the softest, warmest bed in the whole world. He rubs his eyes to try get some sensation out of them, but. It's just dark. If he strains his eyes to see then it'll definitely hurt him later. So instead he closes them, to try and trick his brain a little.

He doesn't really want to stand with how his legs gave out earlier... Earlier? How long has it been since his sister brought him down? God he doesn't know at all. He's not hungry though, so maybe it hasn't been that long. He stretches his legs, wiggling his toes and by the feeling of it, he might be okay to stand in a few minutes. But for now he just keeps stretching, slowly but surely waking up every part of his body.

After he feels enough blood in his limbs, he stands and though he wobbles a bit, he's stable enough to not fall over. He'll take that win. He doesn't recall at all what this area even looks like, so he just takes a step in a direction. There's faint heat signatures around, but most of them are near muted completely. Not entirely bizarre since Jaemin doesn't have a good track record of heat tracking anyways, but definitely inconvenient. He wants to squint but-- oh wait. His eyes are closed. After a momentary battle of what to do, he settles for scrunching up his nose and stepping towards a cluster of signatures, small ones. When he feels around them, he thinks ah okay, so this is food. It's simple stuff really, bread rolls, some fruits, a block of cheese. Probably? It feels like that anyways.

To its left are something that feels definitely like clothes, though he has no idea what kind. They’re soft though, so it probably doesn’t really matter. Who’s going to see him anyways in all this?

Somewhere further left is a kind of hallway that Jaemin finds by feeling along the walls. There at the end, the heat signature rises to a more normal view. A hot spring maybe? It’s close to that if it’s not. A slight misstep confirms it though, and Jaemin, disgruntled, hauls himself out sopping wet.

After changing into some dry clothes, he finishes cataloging (which isn't much, just a lot of soaps and an actual bed) and then sits on the floor to just... Ponder. His sister said he needed to face it, but what is it? His own weaknesses? And then there was that bright light. He's fairly certain that it had to be a hallucination or something. After all, if he saw it after being in the dark for so long, wouldn't he go blind? Or... Is he blind? No way... Except there's no way to tell because even with his eyes open, the darkness is as thick as ever. Fear sinks into his blood, cold as ice. But he shakes his head, it can't be. It can't be.

He stretches himself out on the bed, apprehension still crawling on his skin when he settles. There's a lot to consider here. So, Jaemin thinks, let's take it step by step.

First: Jaemin must complete some kind of task during these three days. His sister mentioned it doesn't matter when, only that he do it. Caveat? He has no idea how time is passing here.

Second: There are faint heat signatures all around but they're muted, even the hot spring that should be very bright. Could the mysterious light have something to do with that?

Third: What happens if he doesn't complete the task?

Third: What happens if

Third: What

Jaemin blinks, suddenly dizzy in his attempt to sit up. It's as though the bed is pulling him down, coaxing him to rest his head and close his eyes and let go of this thoughts. Oh, he thinks as he sinks back down. Maybe it's been a day already. Maybe it's night now. There's no reason for him to be sleepy though, he thinks even as he yawns. After all, doesn't that mean he was asleep on the floor longer than expected...?

——————————————————————————————————————————————

"Jaemin-ah!"

He turns, blinking. It's not dark anymore. Not at all. In fact it's very bright, so much so that Jaemin should be squinting against the shine. And yet he isn't, instead slowly twisting around with a growing smile. He knows that voice anywhere.

"Jeno!" And there in full view is Lunaste's only prince, eyes crinkled in their usual moon crescents. Jeno looks good as always, wearing a tighter fitting formal shirt tucked into newly tailored dark pants. On his ears sparkle the mark of an heir, small gem from Lunaste's mines. They're a shimmering dark blue, not unlike the night sky before the sun fully sets down. Jaemin half runs over to hug his best friend, reveling in the clean and cool feeling that Jeno always gives off.

"What, did you miss me that much?" Jeno laughs, squeezing Jaemin just as tightly. "C'mon, let's go sit. It's been ages since I last saw you."

Jaemin genuinely has no idea where they are but Jeno seems to know it well, so the younger boy just follows behind with a spring in his step. They don't walk long, just enough that Jaemin gets a bit whiny to Jeno's endless amusement. "Jenooooooo--"

"Shush you big baby, we're almost there." Jaemin's pout does nothing but make Jeno smile wider, tugging them both along until they're suddenly in some kind of clearing. A huge meadow? Jaemin's never seen it before, in either Soladium or Lunaste. But he just accepts it, trusting Jeno. The older boy takes them to a patch of grass that's mostly clear of flowers, laying down first and gesturing for Jaemin to join. It's nice out here, a light breeze ruffling the grass and the suns not too bright. Wait. The suns?

"Jaemin-ah." Jeno's voice sounds so far away. Jaemin looks to his side, and yet there's no one there. He sits up, looking around but Jeno's no where to be found. The meadow is still there though... As is a plume of smoke, slowly encircling the edges of the horizon. "Jaemin!" The boy scrambles to his feet, heart racing as he hears his best friend yell. "Jaemin!!"

"Jeno?" Jaemin yells back, eyes widening in horror at the smoke approaches. And where there's smoke, there's fire. The meadow's burning up. And Jeno... Is nowhere to be found.

"Jaemin you have to run!" Jeno's voice sounds more strangled, like he can't breathe. Did he get caught somewhere?

"Jeno! Jeno where are you!" Jaemin coughs as the smoke starts to crowd where he is, ash falling onto his skin and burning him just like real fire. There's no where to go though. Even as Jaemin turns, he's confronted with more smoke, more fire. "Jeno!"

"Jaemin you--" The rest cuts out, the flames roaring too loudly. Jaemin swallows dryly, crouching down to the floor. What can he do? He's going to be completely surrounded soon. There's no where to go--

"JUMP!!"

Jaemin's eyes snap open at the feeling of a hand on his elbow hauling him up. Jeno??? He's scuffed up, scratches and blooming bruises across his cheek and on his hands. Jaemin hesitates, mind racing too fast to comprehend but Jeno whips around with his eyes blazing. "Jaemin trust me. You have to jump." Jump where? The solar prince looks down and oh. There's a hole, about two times his width. It seems to go straight down, just down down down endlessly. Jaemin's logical brain doesn't understand, but his instincts do. And his gut trusts Jeno.

So he jumps.

Down

down

down.

Jaemin gasps, hands clenched tight in the sheets as his eyes fly open. Where is he? Why is it dark? Is he underground, is this--

His voice is barely above a whisper. "Jeno?"

Silence stretches endlessly, swallowing his soft call.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Jaemin doesn't really dream. Or at least he never remembers his dreams, so this is really unusual and quite frankly very unpleasant. He'd taken a long bath right after waking up, wincing at the sensation of hot on his skin but settling in after anyways. He's awake now, definitely.

The dream... Well, maybe nightmare would be more appropriate. Jaemin shudders thinking about how vivid it was, how he still feels his throat closing up at the vague thought of ash. Soladium residents have some heat resistance, sure, but that sensation was... Like being surrounded by...

The sun.

Jaemin blinks, understanding slowly coming through. The sun! But wait... Wasn't that just a legend? Two suns? One shot down--

No. It was never fully explained what happened to it. Jaemin just assumed it was shot down as part of the story, but in fact... What if it wasn't?

This is crazy. Jaemin, you're nuts. You're losing it. And yet in his heart he knows he's right. Something about this ritual has to do with the sun. The second one that vanished without a trace the day that Soladium was established.

You need to confront it. It. Not yourself, not them, but it. A non-human entity.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Jaemin spends the rest of the day not thinking. Honestly his head hurts, waking up with a hammering heart and a confused brain was not been a great way to start the day. And then all that thinking immediately after in the bath... Yeah, Jaemin's calling it for day 2. He still has at least 24 more hours in day three. And then... Does he technically have part of his birthday? Maybe?

He spends the day nibbling on apples and cheese and crackers. Another thing, the food is always prepared in easily eaten bites. Apples are sliced, sometimes peeled. The cheese is always cubed. Weird. Magic isn't really prevalent in Soladium, not really. The only thing really would be their heat control. Even the heat sensing doesn't seem that magical, more a byproduct of adaptation to the landscape. But there's definitely something magical about this whole thing. It's a bit unsettling.

Like the previous night, Jaemin starts to feel the pull of bed at some point, probably around the peak of the lunar cycle. He yawns as he settles down, curling up on his side and falling asleep.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

It smells like earth. Like damp earth. Jaemin doesn't hate it, but he's not the fondest fan either. Rainy days are nice, and he like them just fine, but they're not his favorite. That's just how it is. But he likes them when he can be with Jeno, then it's fun. Running around with Jeno chasing him is fun. Spending the day inside talking over snacks is fun. Finding new hiding places and cozying up is fun.

"Jaemin-ah."

"Jeno-yah."

Jeno's always been there. Jeno is reliable, like how the lunar cycle always follows and leads into a solar cycle. They may be princes of different realms, but somehow they're still best friends. Constant letters, excuses to visit. Sometimes the queen dowager of Lunaste will whisper to the reigning queen of Soladium, ah they're kindred souls.

"Jeno, I'm scared." It should feel scary to even admit that and yet it doesn't. It just comes out. Jaemin still has no idea where he is, has no idea where Jeno it. Everything's blurry, like he's looking at it through some thick frosted glass. But Jeno's there, he knows it.

Jeno doesn't ask why. Doesn't say that it's going to be fine. Instead he says, "But are you going to let it stop you?"

Jaemin almost wants to say yes. It's infinitely scary to think that perhaps the thing he has to face is what he thinks it is. But it's infinitely more terrifying to think that if he fails, he might never be able to see the people he loves again. After all, no one knows the cost of failure for the ritual, only that if you fail you don't come back the same. Or at all sometimes.

"No," he says instead. "No, this is something I have to do. To move forward." To be with everyone, with you.

Jeno smiles and Jaemin feels a warm hand over his own. "That's right. It's something you have to do."

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Jaemin takes a deep breath. He hasn't tried to heat sense much outside of what's necessary, but even then he's gotten so familiar with the space he doesn't need the sensing to tell him where everything is. But he has a feeling he should try again, maybe it'll show him what's there.

Sitting in the center (or what he thinks is center) of the room, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

Concentrate. Feel the heat around you. Feel it rise, heat always rises. Feel the intensity, that life breathes into objects. Take a deep breathe in, do you feel the warmth in the air around you? Stretch your senses out, feel for the things around you. Exhale slowly, do you sense the warmth of your own breath, your own life?

Slowly but surely the heat signatures return, muted as they were before. Jaemin furrows his brow, hands clenched into tight fists that rest over his knees, legs crossed in front. He can feel that prickling on the back of his neck, warm across his back. He peeks open his eyes a little at a time, seeing heat wrap around in wisps. The signatures of the ordinary objects have all but disappeared. The only one left is the one seemingly behind him, emitting curls of heat that flutter around the room before vanishing. It's much too bright to be the bath.

He doesn't turn around immediately, he'd be a fool if he did that. "I'm not sure if you can speak, but I..." He pauses, unsure how to say what he wants to. In the end, he settles for a simple, "But I'm ready." Jaemin squeezes his eyes shut again as the light starts to flash, brighter and brighter until the entire room is engulfed in white.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

The first thing Jaemin registers is screaming. A mix of voices, adults and children, men and women. Incoherent, though he picks up a few repeated words. Run! Hurry!

He's afraid to open his eyes, but he forces himself to and it's definitely not within the castle. It doesn't even seem to be a dreamscape, with how vivid everything is. Jaemin finds himself in the center of a jostling crowd, everyone seeming to sprint in the same direction. He turns to what they're fleeing from and...

He sees the lion emblem of Soladium. He sees gleaming gold breastplates over white chainmail. He sees a soldier slam his sword into someone who is fleeing, and watches as red stains the pristine silver metal.

Jaemin's going to throw up.

"Nana! Nana what are you doing standing there? You have to run!" What? What the hell, how can this be? It's Jeno, but he's... Younger. A lot younger. Is Jaemin that young too? Only seven, maybe eight? And how can Jeno be here, he's not a resident of Soladium. But wait, is this Soladium? Or...? "NANA!" Jaemin feels himself being yanked along the stream of people.

"Je- Nono, what's going on?" Jaemin can barely keep on his feet, tripping over himself often. Jeno's hand pulling is the only thing keeping him upright. "Nono, wha--"

"There's no time, we need to get out of--" There's a fuzzy sound, not unlike TV static.

"What??? Out of where? Where are we??" Jeno's younger look alike looks at Jaemin like he's crazy. He repeats the word, but again it's just static. Jaemin's really losing it. Jeno twists down an alley, escaping from the crowd but still moving. It's a little like going down the stairs with his sister, Jeno just keeps taking him down and down and down. At some point they enter some kind of tunnel, barely big enough for them. Jaemin has to crouch a little as he walks.

It's dark.

"Nono?" Jaemin can still feel his touch on his wrist, but he can't see him and Jeno doesn't answer. After what seems to be hours but could be minutes, they stop.

"Nana." The voice speaking is soft, a blend of an older sounding man and a young boy. "Nana, I'm gonna go ahead okay? Wait for me here?"

"Y-yeah," Jaemin-- Nana-- says quietly. "Come back soon?"

"Always."

And then Jaemin is alone.

For minutes. Then hours. Maybe a day has passed. He doesn't know, he hasn't moved. A voice inside whispers ever so faintly, maybe he won't come back. But Jaemin believes in his best friend, or this person who looks like his best friend. So he waits.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

"Jaemin?" He blinks, yawning. When did he fall asleep? Is he still in the tunnel? He can't be, it's too light out. The air is too fresh. Jaemin snaps awake, scrambling up. He nearly headbutts the person above him, who rears back just in time to avoid breaking their nose. "Jesus!"

"Wh-- Where am I? What time is it?" Jaemin tries to calm himself down, taking stock of what's around him. It's some sort of courtyard like area, but there are people everywhere. In the same clothes. Yellow blazer coats and black pants, white button up shirts. A uniform?

"You're at school and it's twelve thirty." Jaemin snaps his head to the side to look at Jeno, who's rubbing his nose lightly. "Damn, I think you actually nicked me a little with that iron head of yours."

"Jen?"

"Huh?" Jeno stops touching his face and Jaemin almost wants to cry at the sight of his best friend. Jeno from Lunaste has near perfect pale skin, his mole stark against it. Jeno-- Nono-- from wherever had the youthful tan of carefree boy. This Jeno looks just like he'd expect a teenager to, skin a bit pocket marked from acne scars, uneven redness all over, more freckles and moles. But it's Jeno, it's definitely Jeno. Jaemin really is going to start crying. “Jaem what’s wrong?”

Shit is he crying? Like for real? Ugh, gods that’s embarrassing. He shakes his head, pressing his sleeves to his eyes and heaving a breath. “It’s nothing Jen,” he mumbles. At least it’s just light sniffles and not full blown sobbing. That would be hard to justify. “Just tired and yknow how it is.” Why’s he talking like this? Maybe it’s just a tic of this Jaemin.

“Ah.” Sweet, understanding Jeno, who never questions when he doesn’t need to. “Yeah that assignment was pretty rough, I was going to strangle Hyunseok when he almost deleted our files. Here.” Oh a handkerchief. It’s just like Jeno to be a little old fashioned like that. Jaemin takes another minute to collect himself, stuffing the cloth into his pocket.

For a minute it’s just quiet and peaceful. A light breeze drifts across, ruffling the grass and just barely shifting Jaemin’s bangs. This is nice, yeah. Jaemin leans back on his palms and tilts his head up. It’s warm.

“So Jaem, I was asking about Friday? Cause I know you said you had student council stuff—” does he? “and you know how caught up you get when Donghyuck slacks off.”

Jaemin doesn’t even have to think about it for a second. “I’ll make time for you.” He always will. But of course he can’t say that part here, this isn’t his Jeno even if the beaming, crescent eyed smile he gets looks so familiar.

“You’re the best Jaem!” Jeno grabs a bag and slings it over his shoulder, offering a hand out to Jaemin. “Thanks for always being there for me.”

“Yeah,” Jaemin says with a smile so genuine it hurts his cheeks. “Of course Jen, always.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————

How much more must he go through? Somehow it feels a little like he’s been through countless iterations, countless universes. Him as a gangster, Jeno as the innocent bystander. Jeno as a celebrity, him as a devoted fan. Sometimes it’s Jaemin who is cruel and heartless, sometimes it’s Jeno who’s broken and hurting. And yet always the same, Jaemin and Jeno, Jeno and Jaemin. Tied together, always faithful to the other. Not once does Jaemin regrets getting shot at, getting strangled, getting screamed at if it means he can protect Jeno. He never regrets stealing or lying or smashing things if it mean staying with his best friend. Always, he thinks as he fades out of yet another life. I will always be there for you.

—————————————————————————————————————————————��

“Sir.” Jaemin turns to see a squire, stiff in their naivety. “King Jeno has requested your presence.” The mere words send shivers throughout his skin, but he nods and dismisses the boy before spinning on his heel.

King Jeno is every bit as regal as Jaemin knew he would be. Midnight black hair coiffed just so under his crown of silver and white gold, dark sapphires embedded as accents. His expression is cold, something Jaemin himself has only seen once in his fifteen years. Somehow he suspects this version of himself has seen it far more often. Jeno looks almost bored, but his voice simmers with anger. “Na Jaemin.” Jaemin swallows but keeps his head bowed where he kneels. He hears a kind of clicking, not loud enough to be shoes but certainly loud enough to be a threat. Jeno’s rings most likely.

“Report.”

Jaemin still doesn’t raise his head as he speaks. In his memories, there are too many blood splatters to ignore. “The Southern Isles have refused to relinquish their control over the pass, they say that… that they won’t unless their demands are met.”

“And what are their demands?” The temperature seems to drop another ten degrees. Jaemin doesn’t want to say it, but he know when Jeno sounds sickly sweet like that… there’s no room for arguments.

“They’ve demanded that their prince be returned to them, no matter what. And that… and that you be removed from power your majesty.” There’s more of course, but those are minor compared to this. Jaemin knows that the Southern prince with caramel skin and a halo of golden curls is alive, but perhaps not for much longer. He prays he’s wrong, but he’s known Jeno for far too long.

For too long there is silence. Jaemin is almost shivering with how tense he’s gotten with every passing second. And then Jeno laughs, a soft chuckle that is so icy, so unlike his own Jeno, that Jaemin almost wants to curl in on himself and scream because it’s wrong. It blows into full, body shaking laughter and Jaemin can’t help flinching when he feels rather than sees or hears Jeno come close. A cold hand tilts his chin up and he meets Jeno’s eyes. Dark, black not brown.

“Is that so,” Jeno says softly. Jaemin doesn’t try anything funny. Jeno’s technically unarmed now, there’s no one else around. Just them. Jaemin could so easily overpower the King if he tried. Jeno isn’t special here, he can’t predict what will happen. And they’ve always been equal in strength. Jaemin could end it all, save the people from war. But he doesn’t. Not that he can’t, he doesn’t. Because this is Jeno, who he chose. “Na Jaemin, what are you?”

“I am your right hand, your majesty. Your shield and your spear to command as you see fit.” A practiced answer that spills as easily as oil over ice.

“Yes, that’s right,” Jeno coos, tapping Jaemin’s cheek. Has Jeno ever been this cold? Physically or otherwise? “You do as I ask.” Jaemin’s heart is hammering so hard he’s surprised Jeno can’t hear it. “And now I ask of you this.” Jeno leans in close, voice a sly whisper. “Kill the prince and send his mangled remains to them. They want to make demands of us? Of me? No. Jaemin-ah, show them who we are.”

Kill. In all the universes, Jaemin has killed before. But this is the first time he’s been asked to by someone he loves. The first time he’s been asked to kill someone he cares about.

Show them who we are. We, Jaemin and Jeno. Jeno and Jaemin.

Jaemin swallows and whispers back, “As you wish, your majesty.” And later, when he’s in the dungeons with a far familiar face glaring at him, spitting insults at him, when he raises his sword high and brings it down with all his force, all he can think is that he promised he would never turn his back on Jeno, no matter what.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

It’s quiet after he plunges the tip into the southern prince’s chest and Jaemin welcomes it. A brief respite between universes, somewhere he can rest. These breaks never last long, some hardly over a minute or two. Jaemin closes his eyes and waits, waits for the next universe to wake him up somehow. But instead he hears a voice, one that echoes like thousands of voices speaking at once.

Have you made your choice?

Jaemin blinks slowly and then stumbles back. Oh, so he’s in a corporeal form for this. Okay. It should be burning hot and blindingly bright, given that he’s staring directly at a sun. Neither sensations occur though and he tentatively steps forward again.

My choice?

The sun rumbles.

Yes. Your choice on your will.

My will?

Yes. That which makes you strong and that which makes you weak.

Oh…

You must decide now. Your will is what you are, but you may choose another way. Be warned child, your will is the strongest and weakest you will ever be. Your other cores may save you from those extremes, but you will never fully involve yourself in your fate. You may end up simply drifting along, always feeling away from yourself.

I don’t want that.

Most do not. However it is an option.

Can I… Can I ask a question?

Of course child.

Why was it always Jeno?

I cannot answer that.

What? Why?

It is simply not my place to do so. I can only answer questions about you.

Was it something I chose?

Yes. In a way.

…

In the last one. Why didn’t I stop him? Would I… would I do that in real life?

That I cannot tell you. I can only show you what could be, given the strength of your will.

What is my will?

Do you not know? Hm... A pause, as if the entity is pondering how best to answer this. You, Na Jaemin, third child of King Na Seomin and Queen Lee Minyoung, are destined to be the strongest ally. Your loyalty knows no bounds. Once you have chosen a person or a cause to dedicate yourself to, you will do so endlessly. Without question, without fear. Regardless of who you might hurt to achieve the goals they've asked of you. Regardless of what might be taken away. You will do what is asked, if that person is who you've chosen. That is your will.

That doesn't sound very good...

A will is neither good nor bad. It is, like everything, something that is altered based on what you choose.

…

It seems you’ve made up your mind.

Yeah. But one more question. Who are you? All of you?

Ahh, but you already know this do you not?

Just checking.

The entity chuckles. Are you ready to make your choice?

“Yeah,” Jaemin says with a smile. “Yeah I am.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————

“… Min”

Huh?

“Jae… min…”

Oh that’s his name.

“JAEMIN!”

“Gods above what!” Jaemin snaps as he opens his eyes, annoyance vanishing in an instant at the sight of Jeno’s tear streaked face. Actually, looking around, everyone was in various states of distress. His mother had her hands over her mouth, silent sobs wracking her shoulders as she leaned against his father who was pale but wearing an expression of pained pride. “Wh-why are you all crying??”

Jeno’s face contorts in a way that would be funny if not for the fresh wave of tears dripping down his cheeks. “You were gone for so long, I thought— we thought—”

“Gone?” Jaemin echoes, brows knitting together as he tries to piece it together. It must be his birthday right? The ritual shouldn’t last longer than that.

"You— you were— Gods Jaemin," Jeno hiccups, hands wrapped tightly around Jaemin's in his lap. "You were gone, you were—" Jeno can't finish it, instead sobbing again and releasing Jaemin's hands to pull him into a tight hug. Jaemin automatically raise his arms to wrap around Jeno's shaking shoulders, neck getting uncomfortably wet with tears. Jaemin turns slightly to his parents for clarification.

"You were dead, Jaemin," his mother says in a broken but somehow calm voice. She was just sobbing a second ago, how has she collected herself so quickly?

Dead? He was... dead?

"Your h-heart wasn't beating," Jeno cries, "A-and you weren't breathing and— Jaemin. I thought, we thought—"

Oh.

"What... What day is it?"

"It's the day after your birthday."

After?

No wonder... There's never been someone who didn't complete the ritual after their Blessed day. He... Wow.

"I came in," his sister says with an odd detachment, "on the dawn of your birthday. Like I was supposed to. And you, you were just laying there and gods..." Her voice cracks. "You were just laying there and you were so cold."

"When I saw Jaehee in her ceremony, she was sitting there like she was dead too. But she was warm when I touched her, and she opened her eyes immediately. And I saw— I saw the sun in her eyes so I knew. But you," Jaehyuk swallows. "You just didn't. We tried to look but it really was like you were dead Min, your eyes were so empty."

Jaemin squeezes his best friend tighter, throat closing up. "B-but I, I just accepted it like noona said to?"

"Accepted? Jaemin, I said confront. What do you mean accept?"

"Huh?"

"Jaemin-ah," his father says now. "When you meet the second sun, you should have seen yourself in different scenarios." Jaemin nods, that he did. "And you should have always made the same choices." Again, he nods. "And then the final scenario is the hardest, it's the one where you choose. And then you wake up."

"You, you didn't talk to anyone?"

"What?" No one seems to understand. Not even his father. "You spoke to someone? Do you mean in the final judgement?"

"No! No, I mean... After. After I made—" Jaemin shudders at the memory. "After I chose, I spoke to someone. To it."

"You..." Jaemin's sister was always the clever one in the family. "You spoke to it?"

"To them, yeah."

"THEM??"

"Gods them! Yes!" Jaemin reels back, earning himself a yelp from Jeno who gets tugged along. "Them. The second sun isn't just a sun. It's, it's our ancestors."

"WHAT," Jaehee shrieks, lurching forward as if to grab Jaemin's collar to demand what he knows. Ah, so this is what they meant when they said strongest and weakest. Her thirst for knowledge, her willingness to do anything to get it. How similar it is to his steadfast devotion.

"Stop that!" Jaehyuk hauls her back. "Stop, you're scaring him."

Jaemin's... Not scared. But he doesn't understand. "So none of you have spoken to them?" He's met with three mirrored head shakes. "Wow..."

"So what happened then?" His mother asks, the voice of calm despite how frazzled she looks. Jaemin's never seen her like this, pajamas underneath a coat, hair undone. His heart swells at the sight, at how much she loves him.

"They asked me to make my choice. They uh, they told me what my will was and how it might be... hurtful." And they mentioned something else but that's for Jaemin's ears only.

"That's it?" Ah ever shrewd, his sister.

"Yes."

"Why does it matter," comes a muffled whine. Oh shit, Jeno. Jaemin reels back but is held in place by his best friend. "He's not dead, he passed your stupid test. Isn't that enough?"

Evidently not for everyone but no one seems to want to challenge the Lunaste prince. It makes Jaemin wonder what happened when he was dead.

"We should give Jaemin some time to rest." His mother is the first to collect herself, standing and lightly dusting off her skirts. His father is quick to follow, always one to support his wife. "Jaemin-ah, although it's late, happy Blessed day." Jaemin hears the proud, unspoken happy birthday my baby.

Jeno stays behind though, unwilling to let his best friend out of sight. Jaemin understands it, he would be the same. For a while it's just quiet, Jeno clutching onto Jaemin and trying really hard, it seems, to not cry again. And it's like at that sight, Jaemin loses all his strength and pitches forward, pressing his face into Jeno's neck and mumbling, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry Jen, I'm so so so sorry."

Jeno just pulls him in closer and buries his own face into Jaemin's neck. Jaemin will pretend that they're not both shaking, even though there's no one to pretend to. Cause it's Jeno.

"Don't you ever do that to me again," Jeno whispers fiercely, voice thicker and more ragged than usual. "Na Jaemin I swear I will pull you back just to kill you myself."

Jaemin laughs at that, shaking his head. "I won't. I'll never leave you Jen."

"Don't promise things you can't keep," Jeno sighs back. But Jaemin knows, feels it hot in his chest, that this is one promise he's never going to break. Not even on his life.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Notes:

- A lunar cycle is just one night. The only special time terms are solar cycle/lunar cycle instead of day/night. If it's a week, it's still called a week.

- While this event states that Jaemin/Jeno have only recently discovered they are princes, this blurb is slightly separated from that. This blurb is set in the full AU but is twisted slightly to fit the bot, thus both Jaemin and Jeno have been princes from birth. So just, don't think about it too hard?

- Inspiration: Stars are born from nebulas in which the gas and stardust in the nebulous cloud begins to collapse in on themselves from the gravitational pull. Stardust is from the death of other stars. This got a little out of hand but those various scenarios Jaemin goes through are like his own lives and deaths, so when he dies in them or when he kills in them, they "piece" together to form his will which is his strongest trait. Jaemin's a unique case where he always chose the same thing. Often people will kind of alternate their choices and whatever is strongest/gets picked the most often becomes their will.

- In the final dream sequence, Nana is Jaemin's ancestor. Naming conventions differ in the past, children would receive a nickname (Nana) and then once they became adults they would receive their formal name (Jaeyoon). In Jaemin's current timeline, you receive the name you live with when you're born. So when Jaemin was born, he was named Na Jaemin and that's just it. I can explain it more if it's confusing. Really I just wanted an excuse to make a Nana and a Jaem compared to Jaemin, yknow?

- The final dream sequence serves as the final judgement by the second sun. It weighs more heavily than others with higher emotional stakes. The reason why people lean into their attributes so heavily is because of this last scenario. In their minds, they have already played through everything that could be and will not deviate from their choices. Thus people of Soladium are considered rigid and stubborn.

- The second sun doesn't always choose to enhance positive attributes. Though Jaemin and his siblings received (in order) loyalty, cleverness and determination, others in Soladium history have received things like ruthlessness, deception and fear. Generally speaking, what attribute is chosen is what the individual's core value is, and has a lot to do with nature vs nurture.

- Don't @ me about plot holes lmao

[romance2d-otomegame]

The Route Thief

Sumary: Everybody used to tell me to stop playing those games, but what can I do? An otome game is pretty addictive and specially if is one like Wizardess Heart. This game is my life! Wait, I didn't mean literally... Then, why I'm suddenly inside on my game!? Is that Hiro and Zeus? When I said this game is my life I didn't mean to want that this game BE my life!

Pairing:Hiro x Marian

Chapter 5

The travel on train was definitely the best of my life. I've had never ride a train ever before! It was fantastic. Clarisse was accompanying me, but only to the front gate of the academy. I was already wearing my uniform, and I was surprised when I saw that it was a black uniform from the Night Class. I'm going to be on the Night Class!

"You look very excited young lady."

"Yea, I'm pretty nervous actually, I wonder if I'll be able to fit on that place."

"I'm sure that you'll be just okay."

The landscapes where so beautiful. This place is more big and amazing than I ever thought. After a long trip, we finally arrive to the Gedonelune station. We walked on the streets for a while and buy a few groceries. They give me one of those perams and I love it! Of course I didn't bring many things whit me, first because the stuff of Marian doesn't really are my taste, just a few casual dress might do the trick, and second, if there's something I learn from my first day on college is that more than the 50% of your packings will help you nothing. You can find new things wherever you go anyway. And in this place I'll be using my wonderful new black uniform so, I don't need that much. After a while we arrived at the main gate of the Academy.

"You finally show up!"

Oh God, I recognize that booming voice.

"Do you have any idea of how long I've been waiting for you here!?"

"Hi Zeus, sorry I just have to buy some stuff at the city."

"This is not the place for you to go shopping!"

Okay, this guy can't chill out at all huh?

"Hurry up, I'm late and I have a lot of things to do. I've no time to lose."

"Okay, okay. Thanks for accompanying all this way Clarisse."

"My pleasure young lady. Please take good care of you."

I stared walking along whit Zeus, well, actually I was trying to keep his steps.

"You didn't bring more luggage?"

"huh? No, I'm fine whit this."

I brought out my peram and raised proudly.

"huh... Really?"

"Where's Hiro?"

"He is working, or at least I hope he's working!"

He then let go a huge yawing.

"Gosh, this is a pain."

"Are you tired?"

"Huh? Uh, well, we're Night Class, when you get used is hard to stay awake at daytime."

"I see. Where are we going?"

"You're making so much questions today."

But he seems more relaxed somehow. At least he doesn't scream anymore.

"I have to take you whit the headmaster and then to your room."

"I see. Don't you feel hot whit that scarf?"

"Seriously, you are starting to get on my nerves..."

Zeus took me all the way to the headmaster's office. All the buildings were more than a picture, and I was absorbed on all of it. Is there a way to take pictures? When we entered the office, I was surprised to see that the headmaster was Rembrandt, this means, that I'm on a time beyond of the first seasons, probably the labyrinth still exists, but seriously, seeing Rembrandt in person, was a totally different deal. He was impressively tall, including his horns. And his tail didn't stop of moving someway or another. I just stayed there speechless while he was telling all the rules and welcomes for the new student. I was the only one anyway. He said about the party that'll be held tonight, or something like that, I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. He was precious on the game. On real he was stunning. After that, Zeus walked me all the way to the Night Class building. We were passing the old cemetery, just like in the game. Since I already know I wasn't surprised at all but still, it feels a little chilly.

"How is that there's a graveyard so close of the school?"

"What? Scary?"

He asked whit an amusing smile

"No, I was just thinking on how strange is that, besides, the fact that there's a school in the middle of a graveyard is also out of place don't you think?"

"Hmm, you're not funny."

Whit out saying nothing more Zeus took me all the way until we reached the girls dorm. I must to say, that the simple picture that you see on the game doesn't make justice for the real thing. The Night class building, was like one of this old big mansions of the Victorian times. I love that style, I always was a fan of Gothic aesthetics.

"Here, this is your room. You don't have a roommate, and there's no servants, so you'll have to take care of your space by yourself. You think you can do that spoiled child?"

He was wearing on of those arrogant smiles of him.

"Are you telling me that Hiro doesn't do everything for you?"

He startle at my question.

"Of... Of course not! I also do stuff you know! Like... Clean and all that!"

"If Hiro forces you it doesn't count."

"Nhg!... Wh-Whatrever! There's a party at the big auditorium at night so make sure you be there on time understood!? And I'll be not coming for you!"

I think I'm starting to get Zeus. I already made my mind, I won't let that the past interfere whit my present. Hiro's words still were stuck on my head. It doesn't matter anymore, who this lady Marian was. I am Marian now, who knows for how long, so I'll be living this life at my way from here. This place was really huge! I have my own living room and kitchen, also there's two bedrooms but I'll be the only one here, so probably I'll use it like an office. I always wanted one! When the sun stared to fall, life raised on the dorms. All Night Class students show up, and they were chatting whit enthusiasm of the party of tonight. I've never were good making friends and is hard to me to approach new people. But this guy's, doesn't seem to care. They keep whit they business and ignored me like I was just somebody else. Somehow, it make me relax. The only girl that spoke to me was my neighbor of the front door and it was just for ask me not to be noisy at daytime since she sleeps all day. Not that I care, I've never been a noisy person anyway.

I followed a group a long of the way so I didn't get lost on my way to the main building. Enter the auditorium was such a vision. I definitely feel like I'm on Harry Potter, hehehe, how funny! Now, could it be that I meet some other boy of the game? Oh! Look at all that food! I love buffet!

"Hey Goldstein!"

Huh? Goldstein? That voice, that's definitely... I knew it! Is Zeus! I stood behind a column and watched the scene. Zeus was making his way through the people and heading to... That's Klaus!!? OMG is Klaus! And that two pigtails girl...no way... Seriously!? Is that Liz!? So she still is the MC uh? Why didn't I reincarnated on her? It will have been funnier. Zeus stared to talk whit Klaus. This scene... It seems to be familiar. Suddenly Zeus corned Liz against the window, I... Seen this before... Isn't this...? OMG! This is the first CG on Zeus's route!! Even Hiro is there just drinking his glass! Wait... Then, the timeline, is in Zeus's route!? Zeus had a fiance all this time!? How do this work? I don't understand but this is definitely the events on Zeus's route. Rembrandt approached the group and start talking, yea I also remember this. I think on moving from my spot to another more close but I bumped into someone's back.

"Ouch! Oh! I'm so sorry!"

"woa! Careful, are you okay?"

He turned to see me and I didn't give credit to my eyes. That angelic smile, those crystal eyes, That's Alfonse! I petrified while I admire him.

"You didn't get hurt do you?"

"Eh!? Ah... I'm ... I'm okay, sorry I stumbled on you."

Calm down! Calm down! Calm down!

"Don't worry, is normal when there's this much of people. Well, I need to get going, enjoy the party!"

"Eh, ah, su-sure... You too..."

Gosh! Why do I always ruin it like this! I didn't learn anything of all those games!? Alfonse leave and walked towards another boy, no way, that's Caesar! Please I don't want to stumbled on him if I do I don't think I'll manage well, I'll just embarrass myself again. I follow them until they walked towards... Liz. Wait, where do Zeus go? And Klaus? Oh right, this is were Liz meets Alfonse and Caesar. I need to properly remember all.

"What are you doing?"

"Kyaa! Hiro!? You scare me!"

"Sorry. I see there's no change whit you huh?"

"huh? Do you mean my head? There's... A few but not my memories."

"I see."

"Wait, what are you doing here? Weren't you whit Zeus?"

"I lost sight of him when I got this."

He bring a plate whit different color muffins on it.

"Oh, that looks good."

"Have you tried the food, is good."

"I was about when I... Got interrupted."

"Really? There's a table."

Hiro pointed a table full of many different types of dishes, but what bring my attention was the pasta dishes. Actually, I was working as a waitress on an Italian restaurant on my past life. I fell in love whit Italian cuisine, but, I don't know if something related exist on this world. I serve myself a plate of spaghetti that looked tasty, and when I tried.

"Mmm! Gosh this is delicious!"

How can be possible that they have the perfect savor!?

"You like it?"

"Is so good! I was missing Italian food so bad!"

"Italian?"

Yikes! That doesn't exist here!

"Huh, I mean... That's not the name of this dish?"

"Of course not, that's spaghetti whit meat sauce. Where did you bring that?"

"Oh! Hehehe I... Reed it on a book, I guess I misunderstood..."

"You even forget that huh? But it seems you like so try a little more."

Gosh! I think I saved!

"You know, there's a good place on Queensblade where they serve the best spaghetti whit meat sauce on the world."

"Really? Is even better that this?"

"A lot better."

He smiled me, and my heart skipped a beat. God, he's so beautiful.

"I'll love to try it some day."

"Maybe some day. Now try this."

Hiro passed me another dish that seems to be lasagna.

"Mmm! This is also wonderful!"

And like that, Hiro and I spend a while trying every dish and dessert available. If partys are always like this I want to go to more!

"If you keep eating like that you'll get fat."

"So what?."

"Don't girls get worried for their weight?"

"Food is nothing for you to have to feel guilty about. They bring all this so you can enjoy yourself so that's what in going to do! Who cares weight!"

"Hehe, really?"

Hiro smiled again. This moment, it feels so precious right now. I hope, I can keep getting closer to him.

"What about you? You're eating a ton."

"I exercise so I don't get worried. Besides, who says no to free food? We worked so hard to get everything done in no time. I think I deserve a good meal."

"All is fantastic, it surely seems difficult to pull out."

"At the beginning it was supposed to be a party for prefects only, but headmaster changed his mind and we had to prepare more."

"Huh? Why the sudden change?"

"I don't know. But I'm glad everything went right."

So many dishes after, Hiro offered to walk me back to the Night Class.

"Uff, so many food, so late at night. What time is it?"

"More than ten o'clock."

"Ten on clock!? Is so late now."

"Is pretty early yet."

"But many are leaving too."

"Those are Day class. For you and they it surely is late."

"Wait, I have to get use to the schedule too!"

"Good luck whit that young lady."

"Don't call me like that!"

Hiro laughed and I playfully give a punch on his arm. Soon we reached the cemetery and the coffin that was the door to the Night Class.

"Can you continue for yourself from here?"

"Huh? You're not coming?"

"I got to search for Zeus. He can get in trouble if I don't watch on him."

"I see. Thanks for bring me here, I'll be alright, I think I remember the way."

"Good, then, see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight Hiro."

Hiro leave, and I went down stairs to the Night Class. I need to remember now, the events of Zeus's route. To bad I don't have my phone here. But I think I can remember the most. I saw Alfonse and Caesar tonight and a eat a lot of tasty food whit Hiro. Is been a long time since the last time I feel so good. But there's things that still bothers me. I wonder if I can... I don't know... Change the events of the routes?

To be continued ...