#sometimes our dreams float like anchors

[antmightpost]

The nature of cursed energy, after death sequences and a possible inspiration from Tibetan Buddhism & Tibetan book of the dead

"Nine points. Polarized light" A theory on the nature of cursed energy, after death sequences and a possible inspiration from Tibetan Buddhism & Tibetan book of the dead (Bardo Thodol). This is the 1st part of a long theory that I intend to cover in multiple parts

Gojo's chant

The Tibetan book of the dead, also known as Bardo Thodol is a sacred text guiding souls through the afterlife. Rooted in Tibetan Buddhism, it's a profound exploration of life, death and the transitional state between ( Bardo) . The origins of Bardo Thodol can be traced back to the 8th century when emperor Trisong Detsen directed Indian buddhist master Padmasambhava (lotus born) to bring the Buddhist teachings to Tibet. Also known as 'Guru Rinpoche' he brought the teachings of Bardos ( state between Death and Rebirth)

Tibetan book of the dead

Padmasambhava Physics states that energy can neither be created nor destroyed, While we're alive a pattern of energy called consciousness or the 'mind' flows within our body that we identify as ourselves. But what happens after death ? This energy is no longer associated or anchored by the Physical body. It now floats, freely. In JJK the physical body is also like a barrier for the soul / consciousness which is why the innate domain or inner world manifests within a barrier or outline through a domain expansion.

Body acting as a barrier for a domain Once consciousness is loosened from any barriers ,Thoughts have no limitations set for them. "In life you make the mind , in death the mind makes you" what does this buddhist saying mean ? For ex- suppose you want to visit a place, while alive you have to follow the whole process of travelling to visit it. After death , the mere thought of visiting it will take you there (the dream realm version of it). This seems like a Fascinating concept until you think about the negative thoughts that one might have. Thoughts that while alive are slower in realization by the physical limit of the body, thoughts that in death will become your reality instantly, sometimes in rapid unending succession. This is why Buddhism places heavy emphasis on mental purification while you are alive, achieving the state of enlightenment and learning the illusory nature of one's consciousness before they Proceed to afterlife. The mind forms that one entertained or clung to while alive that manifest as body-less consciousness after dying in the dream realm are called 'Bardo'. Bardos are formed by the 'Karmic energies' or repeated thoughts one accumulates during their lifetime.

An example of the transitional state between death and rebirth (Bardo) Bardo Thodol's main purpose is to make practitioners aware of the unreality of what manifests as bardos post death. The concept of Karma refers to one's action but not merely action , Karma includes your thoughts, deeds and words. As mentioned above , the Buddhist belief is to purify the mind pre death but most if not all are unable to attain such mental purification, hence the karmic energy is inherently negative when it leaves the body, this karmic energy IS cursed energy. While passing through the state of Bardo , the deceased experiences visions And hallucinations influenced by their karmic energy they accumulated while being alive. If the deceased can recognize that these visions are illusory, let them go, they will attain a better birth and ultimately Nirvana.

Mention of karma in JJK

Even people outside of japan release karmic energy ( Cursed energy) In JJK, rebirth and attachment to one's consciousness is presented by the concept of North and South directions. North meaning rebirth, South meaning being chained to your Karma.

The idea of North and south pertaining to rebirth and clinging to your past self

There are mainly 3 sections of the Bardo state-

Chikai Bardo ( Bardo of the moment of death) - this occurs at the exact moment of death .According to Buddhist beliefs individuals may experience a profound luminosity or a clear light. The teachings suggest recognizing that clear light

The core of cursed energy (Consciousness) that Gojo experienced right at the moment of death represented with a luminous light 2. The Chonyid Bardo ( Bardo of the intermediate state of visions) After death in this state individuals may encounter various visionary experiences which can be pleasant or terrifying, the experiences are the reflections of one's karma and mental projections, individuals are said to have been visited by either deities or their loved ones in this state.

Gojo visited in his Bardo state by his loved ones

Kashimo in attendance of a deity (Sukuna) in his bardo state 3. Sidpa bardo (Bardo of Rebirth) -it refers to the period between the end of Chonyid Bardo and the time of Rebirth, in this phase the consciousness seeks a new birth guided by it's karma and desires, individual is drawn to a new existence ( Someone choosing to go North) The idea of Bardo is recognised in a broader sense in Tibetan Buddhism, various transitional states like when you dream or meditate, the state of Bardo is akin to a mental high or Trance. It's similar to NDE's ( Near death experiences) where survivors often experience a profound sense of peace and blissfulness.

Gojo feeling a mental high after experiencing the core of cursed energy (Chikai Bardo) As for why i started this thread with the words used in Gojo's chant, I think "Nine points" refers to the Nine levels of consciousness in Buddhism, 'Light' is often referred to as pure consciousness across multiple cultures and religions , the 9 levels of consciousness are - The first 5 levels ( the 5 senses of the human body) Touch, taste , sight, hearing and smell. The basic layer of consciousness formed from physical sensations, what Heavenly restriction heightens

Heavenly restriction's impact on the first 5 consciousness, possibly a binding vow that sacrifices the latter levels for heightening the first 5 The 6th level - where one understands what is being taken in from the 5 senses It's the ability to perceive and judge things , it's the ability to process information. This level integrates all the sensory input from first 5 consciousness . Perhaps that's what 6 eyes are, mastery over the 6th consciousness

7th level- unlike the prior 6 consciousness, this is directed by one's inner thoughts without any sensory input. This level deals with comprehension of the abstract, morals , distinguishing between good and evil etc. It's akin to one's ego

8th level (Alaya)- The karmic storehouse or storehouse consciousness which is known as 'Alaya' in Sanskrit. This storehouse accumulates one's karmic energy through interactions with others, as well as the causes and effects of one's actions. It stores all of one's thoughts, deeds and words throughout a lifetime , unlike the first 7, the 8th consciousness persists even after death.

Storehouse consciousness (Megumi's shadow) 9th consciousness ( Brahman)- the final consciousness from which all energy arises. It is the pure consciousness that can even suppress one's negative karma , it cannot be tarnished by any karma, the core for all mental and spiritual activity We have seen the word "Brahmic barrier" mentioned in JJK while referring to the most supreme form of barriers that are even better than the barriers tengen used to suppress the outbreak of curses in Japan, so this tracks extremely well.

Pure consciousness and the Brahmic barrier, the supreme barrier I'll end this part of my theory here, Next I'll be continuing with Megumi and his connection to the 8th consciousness, the storehouse consciousness (Alaya)

[otomefiend]

Victor

Story Event: Luxury liner invitation

Chapter 1

Everyone is being sus, Victor most of all.

~~Part 1~~

The sky was clear, and the sun rays reflecting on the water surface made it shimmer.

Young female aristocrat: "Where's the boarding platform leading to the first class cabins?"

Black-haired crewman: "I'll show you the way. Please leave your luggage with the porter."

Surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the lively port, I looked up at the luxury liner anchored in front of me.

(Woah.... it's huge!)

The ship, floating on the water, was new and bigger than I had ever seen.

Its sails fluttered in the wind, raising hopes for the voyage to begin.

Victor: "Ahaha, Kate, if you tilt your head back like that, it'll fall off."

Kate: "Ah, it's such a magnificent ship, I couldn't help myself."

From now on, we were to stay on board of this luxury liner, Orellus.

As for what led to this turn of events--

*flashback starts*

--a few days earlier.

One day, when all members of the Crown unexpectedly gathered together, Victor arrived in the dining room skipping.

Victor: "Everyone! Viscount Morris sent us an invitation to a thrilling ship excursion."

He placed the letter on the table.

Invitation to the maiden voyage of the liner Orellus.

"We hereby invite you to the maiden voyage of the luxurious liner Orellus.

Our ship sports one of the world's most opulent dance halls, a casino with an excellent selection of games, and a grand piano on deck.

Feel free to use our facilities at your leisure,

Whilst enjoying a truly pleasant and secure journey of your dreams."

~~Part 2~~

Liam: "Wow, a luxury liner sounds wonderful. I've never been on one."

Kate: "Neither have I. The man who sent the invitation, Viscount Morris, who's he...?"

Harrison: "He's a friend of Victor's. Of course, he has no idea about us being members of the Crown."

Ellis: "He's rich and a bit peculiar."

Victor: "Viscount Morris has always dreamt of having his own ship. His wish has finally come true."

Kate: "Then, what's the mission about this time round?"

Victor: "....huh?"

Kate: "Sometimes, when you bring up a story like this, you have some kind of mission in mind.

(Maybe it's an undercover investigation into a luxury liner. I need to get a grip and step up to the challenge.)

Victor: "Oh my goodness, Kate!"

Victor: "I've demanded too much of you, and now you're stuck in work mode!"

Kate: "So it's not a mission this time?"

Victor: "Of course not! We're going to embark in style and spread our wings."

Victor: "The Viscount told me to bring as many people as I'd like. Then"

Victor: "Raise your hand if you can't wait to get on board and have some bonding time with me. Yes!"

~~Part 3~~

Victor: "Raise your hand if you can't wait to get on board and have some bonding time with me. Yes!"

Liam: "Sorry, Victor, I have my stage performance."

Elbert: "... Al, Roger, and I are on a mission."

Alfons: "How vexing, but it can't be helped."

Roger: "Enjoy your trip. Where are you off to, Jude?"

Jude: "To a business meeting. Let's go, Ellis."

Ellis: "Wait, Jude. I'm sorry, Victor."

Victor: "H-harrison?"

Harrison: "Pass."

Victor: "Agh..."

(Everybody turned him down....!)

With tears in his eyes, Victor turned towards me.

Victor: "Kate, you --"

*flashback ends*

(That's how I ended up here with Victor.)

I didn't agree to it just out of pity.

For a commoner like myself, this type of opportunity would not come often.

Besides--

Victor: "The wind is calm today. I'm sure it will be a wonderful voyage."

(I want to spend time with Victor)

I felt most at ease being by his side.

As I was stealing a glance at his profile whilst he was looking at the ship, someone tapped me on the shoulder --

(... ?)

~~Part 4~~

I felt most at ease being by his side.

As I was stealing a glance at his profile whilst he was looking at the ship, someone tapped me on the shoulder --

(... ?)

Red-haired crewman: "Lady, I'll take care of your luggage."

Kate: "Oh, thank you. If you'd be so kind."

Red-haired crewman: "That's some nice dress and necklace you wear. Hope you have a good trip."

The items I was complimented on were Victor's gifts just for today.

(I think this blue diamond necklace is particularly expensive)

I could tell Victor wanted me to relax and enjoy myself to the fullest,

which I decided to do wholeheartedly.

Crewman: "The luxury liner Orellus will be setting sail shortly!"

Crewman: "Hurry up if you want to get on board!"

Victor: "It's time."

Victor: "Come, Kate. Take my hand."

Kate: "Yes, Victor!"

~~~

--With a soft blast from the steam whistle, the ship left the harbour.

Kate: "Woah..!"

Passing through the luxurious atrium of Orellus, I couldn't stop myself from voicing my admiration.

???: "Do you like it, lady Kate?"

I turned around and saw a dandy gentleman with white hair standing there.

Victor: "Kate, this is my friend, Viscount Morris."

(It's the Viscount!)

~~Part 5~~

Kate: "It's a pleasure to meet you, Viscount. Thank you for inviting me."

Viscount Morris: "Thank you for your kind welcome. You're a lovely young lady, just like Victor said."

Victor: "Right? She's so lovely I can't help showing her off."

I was startled by the sudden `lovely`, but

(No, no, he's just being polite)

Victor: "Morris, I'm glad that your dream of owning a ship has come to fruition."

Viscount Morris: "I'm moved to be congratulated by the person who saved my life."

Kate: "Person who saved your life..?"

Viscount Morris: "That was around five years ago"

Viscount Morris: "My wallet was stolen and I ended up eating and drinking in a bar with no means to pay..."

Victor: "I saved him from being beaten up in a back alley by the young bar owner."

Viscount Morris: "My, I told him I was a viscount, but he didn't believe me!"

Victor: "Haha, you were a mess --"

Viscount Morris: "Haha, Victor. You promised to keep it a secret, didn't you?"

*flashback starts*

Ellis: "He's rich and a bit peculiar."

*flashback ends*

(I see...?)

Steward: "Lord Morris, I'm sorry to interrupt your conversation."

Viscount Morris: "Yes...?"

Steward: "There's something I urgently need you to hear. In fact--"

Viscount Morris: "...What?"

Chapter 2

[cuubism]

that idea about dream having once had wings is living in my head rent-free so have some hcs for the other endless & wings

imo destiny wouldn’t have wings. he is chained to his book, to reality, to the future and the past. he is a force that supports the laws of nature, rather than denies them. he is fixed in a way that dream & death are not. he does not have wings because he is the walls that keep us from flying, the ceiling hanging low over our heads. he is the limit, the boundary, the end. he has no flights of fancy. he is what is, not what can be. destiny does not have wings. 

death has wings, of course. it’s partially because we imagine her as the angel of death, come to bear us away to another world. death is an ending, a reality, like destiny, but the line between life and death is permeable (albeit in only one direction) in a way destiny’s lines are not. death is what brings people to another world. she guides us, lifts us up, brings us comfort at the end. death as the anthropomorphic personification is not only an ending, but a beginning, and it is the sound of her wings that conduct us from this place to the next. she is a doorway, a path, a light at the end of the tunnel. death has wings. 

and then dream. of course, dream. he is a literal flight of fancy, defined as that which is not, the essence of unreality. he is not limited by what is, he is free, he is dream. of course he has wings. 

later, he does not, but i think you’ve done a far better job talking about that than i ever could. 

desire is nebulous, hard to pin down. they are not concrete, they are emotions, they are everywhere & everywhen. if you shut them up, shut them away, they will destroy you, because they cannot be caged. desire has wings. 

despair… she is her twin’s darker shadow, their balance, the falling to their flight. desire lifts you up, whispers that there is freedom above if only you try. despair tells you that there is nothing up there, and you couldn’t reach it if there were. all that is left is to sink, to let the water weigh you down and to drift. to fall. to slumber in viscous tar that will not let you free. despair does not have wings. 

destruction is anchored in reality, in carnage, in ruin. he is a crumbling, a falling, a flame. he does not fly because he is inevitable, because he is not meant for such graces. but he wants to fly, longs for it, wishes hopelessly to escape the destruction he wreaks like a bird that flutters out of a window the moment before the whole of it tumbles to ruin. when he paints himself, he adds wings. 

delight flew, long ago. her wings were myriad colours and full of light. she was the rainbow at the end of a storm, the glint of a smile, the shimmer of light on glass. she flew with purpose, with luminescence, with glory. the flutter of a heartbeat, the uplift of joy. delight had wings. 

delirium does not. she drifts, unmoored by gravity or by reality, separated from everything more sharply than dream ever was — even dream must obey the line drawn between the waking and the dreaming, but delirium simply floats through such boundaries. she is disconnected, a speck on the wind, a hallucination, her movements unpredictable and bound by no laws. delirium is a ghost, and needs no wings.

i love these so much, thank you! particularly the idea of destruction painting himself with wings. i'm trying to decide if i want to posit desire having wings sometimes, my thoughts on it won't fully form... but desire as a concept can be so fickle, so on-and-off, that i wonder about their wings being so too. i really like your headcanons :)

add dream losing his wings to the list of Fucked Up Things That Messed Up The Endless As A Family, particularly if having wings is like an Endless thing at least for some of them. strong headcanon that it's just Not Talked About since dream won't speak of it after how things went down with destiny and nobody really knows how to address it anyway. if it's brought up it's usually desire being a dick about it (though deep down they actually do feel sympathy for dream, plus the fear of this happening to them too). everybody very functionally ignores it and dream doesn't mention it for 5 billion years 👍 nothing like NOT grappling with the sudden knowledge that you can be permanently changed against your will. it's fine

anyway this reminded me of how morpheus is sometimes depicted with wings in art. such as

In the Arms of Morpheus, W. Reynolds-Stephens

Morphée, Jean Antoine Houdon

Morpheus, Jean-Bernard Restout

you get the gist 😂

[charlesjosephwrites]

Get To Know My OC Tag - Ms. Psychic Edition

Jumping in on my own open tag because I really like this method of introducing characters. Also, I figured it was about time I talk about the other title character for The Magician and Ms. Psychic. Check out April's character intro HERE.

First, since this got pretty long, I'd like to leave this as an open tag for whoever else wants to introduce one of their characters. Don't be shy about tagging me! I love hearing about people's characters!

Now, without any further ado, here's Ms. Psychic!

We are experiencing technical difficulties. Please come back later!

The bold text fades from the screen to reveal the news anchor, slightly disheveled, but otherwise fine.

"Thank you for sticking with us, everybody," he addresses the camera with his usual made-for-tv smile. "I'm pleased to announce that the Magician has been taken care of, all thanks to our extra special surprise guest, Ms. Psychic!"

Ms. Psychic enters on cue, her brink pink cape billowing behind her in the non-existent wind and her long black hair floating up in the air as though she was underwater. Her movements are stiff and awkward as she shuffles forwards, and she regards the camera with the same sort of suspicious squint she might give to a misbehaving supervillain. Gravity seemingly takes a hold of her as she sinks into the seat next to the news anchor, and she has to brush a few rogue strands of hair away from her face.

"Um... hi." She gives the camera a hesitant little wave.

"Ms. Psychic has agreed to answer a few questions for us tonight!" The new anchor announces gleefully. "Are we ready to get started?"

"Sure." She nods slowly. "Let's..." Her voice catches in her throat. "Let's make this quick, please."

"Of course." The news anchor flashes her a smile. "Onto the first question."

1. Are you named after anyone?

"My mom was a small time superhero. She... well..." Ms. Psychic exhales sharply. "She died in action when I was a kid, and I took on her name as a way to honor her."

2. When was the last time you cried?

"I guess it was pretty recently. I mean... I try not to dwell on it too much, but fighting supervillains is dangerous, and... well..." She hesitates. "You can't always save everyone, you know? It's just... kind of hard to deal with that sometimes."

3. Do you have kids?

"No. I'm... not sure I should, either. I'd be risking some supervillain finding out about them and putting them in danger."

4. Do you use sarcasm?

"Sometimes, I guess."

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

"Their voice. You can tell a lot about someone by the way they speak."

6. What's your eye color?

"They're dark brown."

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

"Happy endings, definitely. I especially love those campy old sci-fi movies."

8. Any special talents?

She has to think about this question for a moment. "Um... I can bench press a hundred and forty pounds."

9. Where were you born?

"I was born and raised right here in Metrovale."

10. What are your hobbies?

"I don't have that much free time for hobbies. I guess I like going to the gym? It's good for stress relief, and I've got to stay in shape somehow."

11. Have you any pets?

"No. Like I said, I don't have much free time to devote to something like taking care of a pet."

12. What sports do you play/have played?

"I played softball when I was a kid. I really liked it, but I had to stop when my powers started manifesting. I was upset at the time, but it wouldn't have been fair to the other kids with the whole telekinesis thing, so..." Ms. Psychic shrugs. "It was for the best."

13. How tall are you?

"I'm five foot two."

14. Favorite subject in school?

"I always liked science class. I think my favorite was biology."

15. Dream job?

"I've wanted to be a superhero ever since I was a kid. It doesn't exactly pay the bills, but I don't mind the side gig."

"And that was the last question," the news anchor says. "Thank you so much for joining us here tonight."

"N... no problem. Now, if you'll excuse me-" Ms. Psychic rises to her feet, her chair carefully pushing itself in as she takes a step back - "I've got some business to attend to."

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Sometimes you need to go back in order to finally leave the past for good to prevent it from coming back to haunt you

Going back in time often leads to unpredictable results. Sure, in the literal sense, but in this case, I mean it in a figurative sense. Like going back to a place you swore you never wanted to return to because there’s too many painful memories attached there. Or taking a deep dive into your memories to finally confront the stuff you purposely locked away, pretending that it doesn’t exist in order to lull you into a false sense of security. However, the reality is that you can’t wish the pain away, not when it keeps haunting your dreams.

Laufey’s a generally cheerful person, and I think that’s what helped her move forwards from her trauma to a degree. Repression, I think, is not something you can really control, it’s more like an instinctive thing that kicks in to protect you. Except sometimes it works a little too well that you end up sort of disassociating with the things that trouble you to the point that they might as well don’t exist - kinda like kicking clutter under the bed or shoving it to the closet. Sure, if you don’t see it, it doesn’t exist, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s there, backed into a corner collecting dust.

Sooner or later, you’re gonna have to address that mess unless you want it to keep taking up space and cluttering your mind. She doesn’t like to dwell on it, but she has admitted to things like randomly spacing out - dissociation - as well as having trouble sleeping because of nightmares and restlessness. Sure, being a human-dragon hybrid might allow her to get away with less sleep, but that’s beside the point. Basically, it’s been over 20 years, and the longer she keeps putting it off, the more difficult it’ll be. It’s not something you want to have hanging over your head forever.

Of course, it’s not like Laufey woke up one morning and said “You know what, I’m finally gonna do this dreadful thing that’s been plaguing me for years. Here goes nothing!” In all honesty, I think that’s kinda irresponsible and could just maybe end up making things worse. I really have no idea whether a delicate situation requires the rip the bandaid off approach or if you need to gradually dip your toes in - sometimes shit just happens and you have no choice but to roll with it, I guess.

That’s pretty much what life’s about, dealing with whatever shit comes your way and hope that you can make it out alive before another curveball gets thrown at you. If you get lucky, you might be able to find an anchor to keep you from getting lost in the chaos. We’re all just floating aimlessly after all, hanging on to whatever looks stable enough to help us weather the storm coming our way.

As usual with the Epiphany crew, we started off with one thing in mind, only to go off on a tangent - not that I’m complaining, I actually think it makes these adventures more memorable. After all, everyone in the crew had their reasons for joining, whether it’s to start over, find a new purpose in life, or just to explore the world around them - and in order to break out of that box that has trapped you for so long, you need to be able to confront any obstacles that will come your way no matter what. Sure, there’s the fun of adventuring and broadening your horizons, but it’s also about learning how to stand up for yourself and not resort to running away when life gets tough.

I remember that Yang took Laufey and Jiangyi in when he was conducting an investigation on Capella after a series of attacks drove the civilians out. Laufey and Jiangyi barely escaped the gunfire, risking their lives to save a handful of families from a small neighborhood as well. However, that’s only part of the story - we have to go further back to before Laufey was in Capella. Given the passage of time and how certain people are intent on burying history, we don’t have much to go on other than fragmented memories.

The way I see it, the psyche is like a tower - it should be sturdy in theory, but it’s vulnerable to cracks and weathering. Sure, it can hold up against most raging storms, however, it’s not invincible. Even the smallest crack can upset the structure, and if left alone, it can grow into a fissure. And if that doesn’t get addressed, the whole tower will inevitably crumble.

The Epiphany was just gonna chill at the camp for a couple days, get some much needed rest after spending a couple weeks helping someone who was in a bind. They were originally gonna stay for a few days for a festival, only for trouble to come creeping around. Sometimes you just gotta roll with it and help out however you can - at least, that’s the Epiphany’s way.

Part of the reason why things suddenly took an unexpected turn was because one of the people involved recognized Laufey, and he wouldn’t stop bothering her about it. Although it seemed that he meant well and was coming from a place of concern, he didn’t seem to understand why Laufey was distressed. To be fair, she didn’t fully understand why she felt so strongly as well, but that doesn’t change the fact that the other person failed to see that she was uncomfortable. He eventually got the message though, probably because either Jiangyi or Hongxia were constantly by her side.

Even after those affairs were resolved, Laufey was still on edge, especially as nightmares kept her awake for most nights. She tried to hide it at first, but as time went on, it became obvious something was wrong. In contrast to the last time I saw the crew, Jewel and Hongxia have clearly improved physically and emotionally while Laufey, despite constantly keeping a smile on her face, is just hanging on.

Although being out here at the camp seemed to help a little, it was clear that Laufey could no longer deny the unsettling memories that keep popping up. She would jump from one thing to another in an attempt to distract herself, a sort of unconscious effort to stop herself from dwelling on her thoughts, which would eventually lead her to uncovering more fragments of her past.

Jiangyi knew it was coming, and he doesn’t blame her for developing such a coping mechanism. Apparently, his powers had something to do with it, though it’s likely that she was already repressing her memories long before running into him.

What was that power? The ability to create time loops. Jiangyi explained as best he could because he doesn’t fully understand it himself, but if need be, he can enforce a time loop, though with a very limited scope. As a result, it’s not something he can do at will, not after what he did to ensure Laufey and the rebels’s survival. In other words, he pushed that specific ability far past its limit that he can no longer do such a thing, which he feels is for the best as something like that can easily be exploited.

With that in mind, we headed to Capella to search for anything that might be able to job Laufey’s memory. Of course, she objected at first, which I don’t blame her for, but she ultimately came to the conclusion herself that it was something the absolutely had to do. It’s not fun being haunted by something that severely fucked you over, not with it constantly hanging around you like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Not too much has changed over the years, except that the city seems almost deserted in some areas. Yang said the harbor used to be a bustling area until a major travel route was destroyed due to conflict overseas, which was why he was dispatched over there to investigate. Jiangyi and Laufey managed to arrive right before the harbor shut down. Moments later, a roaring tsunami flooded the entire peninsula, bringing even more chaos to the city. It’s a miracle that the camps set up in the plaza managed to save countless lives.

Laufey was able to recognize a few places, mainly the ones she used to frequent in the short time she stayed there like the cafe and bookstore. Those were happier memories, which made things easier for her as it made her more willing to dig deeper, even if it meant facing the painful stuff. A lot of what she immediately remembered were memories after she and Jiangyi were taken in by Yang.

Slowly, between coffee, pastries, and books, Laufey uncovered her fragmented memories. She works best when she’s on the move, so we did quite a bit of sightseeing while she literally retraced some of her steps. Of course, she got sidetracked sometimes, but that’s natural. Jiangyi tried to help keep her focus and even he got a bit distracted sometimes too. Again, it’s only natural when uncovering the past, like cleaning your room for the first time in forever and coming across stuff that you lost long ago.

However, this is only part of the story. Jiangyi gave us what he knew, revealing the time loop and all that, but there’s still a lot of holes to fill that only Laufey can answer. Before fleeing to Capella, Laufey had been living in a distant city overseas formerly known as Thyphainne. Unfortunately, that city no longer stands due to a revolt that obliterated the whole nation. In fact, the final attack took place not too long after Laufey and Jiangyi got on the last boat to Capella. Since then, the ruins have been closed to the public to this day.

A trip to the library’s archives helped with that. Laufey had been staying in Thyphainne where she got involved with the rebels and their cause. At the time, a scandal involving Thyphainne’s royal family was uncovered, leading to political unrest. In other words, it wasn’t a good place to live in if you weren’t royalty or from an aristocratic family. For whatever reason, Laufey decided to stick around and join the rebels in reclaiming their homeland.

She wasn’t sure why at the time, but hearing stories about families who lived there for generations only to be kicked out and stripped of their rights because of the whims of the aristocrats, it really made her angry and sad. For someone who’s generally cheerful, it’s kinda surprising to see her such a fire brimming underneath - but at the same time it makes sense. Something about her, I picture a flame, burning brightly - vibrant, passionate, strong willed - that’s who Laufey is.

Unfortunately, this is a case where the bad guys won - though it wasn’t a complete loss. The rebels were willing to fight until the very end and their sacrifices were not in vain as their spirits still live on right now. Calling the atrocities of the royals acts of inhumanity was an understatement - they really were straight up monsters. All the more reason why Laufey had to join their cause, for having an outsider ally could really help turn things around. If it wasn’t for Capella supporting the rebels and recording what was happening, the whole thing would’ve likely been buried and forgotten. Scary to think that some authority figures have the power to erase history like that, spitting on the graves of the lives they destroyed as if they’re nothing more than pests.

As the turmoil became dire, it was clear that the rebels were no longer safe in their own homes. A small group chose to stay until the bitter end while encouraging those with families, especially young children, to flee, to ensure that the next generation would survive and remember what unfolded. Laufey was tasked with evacuating families from the neighborhood she was living in and she was determined to get every single one out alive.

That’s when Jiangyi came in. Like Laufey, he was a traveler who was initially passing by with no intention of sticking around, not with the political tension going on. Except he couldn’t, especially after he witnessed an altercation between a college professor and a noble. It was a classic case of censorship, and so he intervened, thus making him an enemy of the nobles while gaining trust from the rebels. He too volunteered to assist with getting the rebels out of the country.

To put it lightly, the whole thing was a bloodbath - Waves of Woe was what the survivors later called it. Had Jiangyi not intervened, almost all everyone who attempted to escape would’ve been executed. That was why he had to defy fate - he said he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he let things be. He wasn’t even sure if he could even pull off a time loop of such magnitude, but he had to try, regardless of whatever consequences he’ll have to deal with later. A truly selfless act for someone who claims to be just passing by.

Like he mentioned, time loop powers are poorly understood, so there’s no telling how it’ll affect an individual. It seems that for most mortal humans, aside from disorientation and memory gaps, most seem to recover and get on with their lives without a hitch. However, for a non-human or long life species - or in Laufey’s case, a human and dragon hybrid - the effects of a time loop have been shown to be unpredictable. A couple loops in and she realized that something was off, especially when she was able to avert fate based on previous timelines.

Once Laufey became aware that they were stuck in a time loop, she went to find the source, Jiangyi. Even early on he was already pushing the limits of his ability, but he was determined to change the outcome no matter how futile it might have seemed. It takes a special kind of perseverance and determination to fight against fate like that - and I’m glad he succeeded. Now that there was someone else present who retained memories from previous loops, Jiangyi realized that maybe, just maybe, they were able to change the future.

Of course, that was far from easy. Countless loops went by and each they they averted one obstacle, another stood their way. Not surprisingly, getting killed many times takes a toll on one’s mind, it’s no wonder why Laufey’s memories went haywire afterwards, as did Jiangyi’s. Still, despite the pain and suffering she went through, Laufey persisted, because if she gave up, it would mean all of Jiangy’s efforts were for nothing, and she couldn’t let that happen. They risked so much and somehow made it this far, so they just had to keep going as far as fate would allow - that was the least they could do in such a hopeless situation.

Finally, there was a light at the end of the seemingly infinite tunnel that kept looping itself. There were far too many close calls, but somehow, Jiangyi and Laufey succeeded in bringing the rebels and their families to Capella safely. Jiangyi was at his limit as his ability weakened the more he used it, so all the more reason to break through and make sure that things work out this time, for there would be no more second chances if this one failed too.

That would’ve been the end for Jiangyi, who was completely spent after putting everything he had in ensuring that this final time loop resulted in the rebels surviving. He was ready to face the consequences from the royals and aristocrats, as well as punishment from a higher order because of what he had done with fate. But Laufey wouldn’t let things end that way. She remembered him saying that he was going to make sure that everyone - everyone - in the room was going to make it out of Thyphainne alive. And she naturally assumed that by “everyone”, that would include himself too, wouldn’t it?

So she ran back to get him, jumping off the boat just as it was leaving the dock. She remembered their surprised expressions, not just at the sight of her diving into the cold water, but also at the realization that their second accomplice had been missing. At record speed, Laufey made it to the shed where they had been hiding and found Jiangyi lying on the floor clutching an amulet, which she recognized was a custom in some places when one is close to death.

Although he was hanging by a thread, Laufey convinced herself that he was just resting after overexerting himself far beyond what was possible. The way she reasoned, as long as his heart kept beating and he was able to hold on to the amulet, he still had time. So she pushed beyond her limits, initially planning to use her heightened speed and agility again to carry him back to the docks, only to unlock a new ability: teleportation.

What happened afterwards was understandably a blur for Laufey and Jiangyi. She remembered being completely disoriented after teleporting for the first time, the last thing she saw before blacking out was a couple rebels catching her and Jiangyi as she fell. Both of them were unconscious for about a week and endured a long and slow recovery. While Jiangyi was able to get back on his feet after a month or so, Laufey was a different story.

Just as Jiangyi feared, Laufey’s memories became scrambled because of the time loops. There was also the punishment he would face because he changed fate, which was considered an abuse of power. Long story short with that, Yang helped him out with that. Once they concluded that Jiangyi’s actions were a one-off thing that he would never be capable of pulling off again, that was pretty much it. However, the whole time loop thing should never be addressed openly, and given the gravity of his actions, Jiangyi wanted to be absolutely certain that not only Laufey was ready to hear what he was about to say, but also that anyone else who knew would keep silent.

Trust isn’t easily given, so it says a lot about how he feels about the people who were in that room - Landry, Della, Fionna, Jewel, Meiying, Hongxia, Daisy Jane, and myself - none of us seem to be the blabbing type. I know I’m certainly not, and I can personally vouch for Daisy Jane as well. The Epiphany hasn’t been together for long, but the amount of trust Jiangyi and Yang put on their comrades says a lot, and I think that’s a wonderful thing.

That was a lot for Laufey to unpack, wasn’t it? But there was still a missing piece of the puzzle - that is, what caused her to repress her memories in the first place? To answer that, we must go further back, long before she became a wanderer, long before she even became “Laufey”. To a place once known as Clover’s Bane.

Finding information about Clover’s Bane proved to be even more challenging than Thyphainne, particularly due to the lack of any written records or media. Even finding about about general things like about their culture, or just basic geographical facts, is like searching for a needle in a haystack. Suddenly, it starts to make sense why Laufey was so intent on helping the Thyphainne rebels - it’s because she was one of them.

She was around 7 when the Clover’s Bane Massacre took place, and that left an effect on her even though she was too young to fully understand what was going on. From what little information we found, it was a period of turmoil, a foundation for generational trauma for those who survived. Among the many problems contributing to the hostile atmosphere, prejudice against hybrids - as in regular hate crime levels - was one of them. And sadly, discrimination has no age limits, no mercy for children who just wish to exist in peace.

At Laufey’s insistence, we traveled to Clover’s Bane - at least, what’s left of it. The city’s been completely abandoned for nearly 30 year, allowing nature to reclaim the land. Maybe it’s for the best that there’s nothing left, especially if the only remaining memories of Clover’s Bane are unhappy ones. Though it clearly pained her, Laufey knew she had to see things through in order to finally let go.

So she walked around, waiting for something to jog her memory. That must’ve worked because she suddenly stopped, or more like froze, when she came across a flowering cork blossom tree. And then it came flooding out, her reciting details about her early childhood - except she seemed disconnected, for a lack of a better word. Like she was talking about someone else - and maybe she was.

Before she became Laufey the wanderer, she was Emmy, daughter of a once renowned opera singer whose career later faltered. She had an older sister, Isobel, except she didn’t look a lot like her. Come to think of it, Emmy bore some resemblance to her mother, but nothing with her father. Was it because he was human? That wouldn’t add up since her mother was human too. Isobel looked fully human too, and she looked like both parents. So why was Emmy different?

She recalls her mother styling her hair to hide her horns, which were thankfully small enough for that to be possible. She also adjusted her clothes to hide her tail, which was also small and thin enough to tuck away. Her eyes were a different story, though having unusual pupils isn’t really the kind of thing people here pay attention to, at least that’s what they believed. And yet, despite her mother’s efforts to make Emmy look more “normal”, that didn’t stop people from staring and whispering. It’s an understatement to say that she had a rough childhood.

Then her life turned upside down on the night of the Clover’s Bane Massacre. The man she called father turned against the family. Her mother told her to escape from the back window and hide in the cemetery across the street. Isobel was supposed to follow but for some reason she couldn’t. Emmy waited and waited before returning home, somehow managing to avoid the chaos in the streets. She came back to find her mother and sister dead by her father’s hands, and he was looking for her.

And that’s where things get hazy. It brought her great pain, but Laufey was desperate to uncover that final piece, the reason why she locked those memories away. As unpleasant it was, she had to know. We didn’t like seeing her so distressed, but we respected her wishes. Although it hurt seeing her in such a state, I imagine what she was going through felt 1000 times worse.

The memory she buried away for so long was an act of self defense, an act that no child should have been backed into doing. Her father left her no choice but to defend her life, and to avenge for her mother’s and sister’s. Being a hybrid, she would be physically stronger than a normal human, potentially strong enough to wrestle a gun away from a grown man, Okay, that might be a bit of a stretch, but adrenaline can often push us beyond our limits, as well as strong negative emotions such as vengeance or anger.

The details no longer matter, what she knows for certain is that the gun ended up in her hands and she pulled the trigger. And that was it.

In the present, she fell on her knees and closed her eyes, falling into a deep slumber. At first we thought she passed out, so Meiying and Fionna did a quick exam, confirming that she was simply asleep. So Yang carried her to her room in the Epiphany and we headed back to the camp.

A day has passed since then and Laufey’s still resting. We’re all exhausted too, so we’ve been kinda keeping to ourselves. At least they’re resting at the camp where they can spend time outside rather than cooped up in their rooms. It’s a lot to process, but it looks like a huge weight’s been lifted off her shoulders. She’ll need a lot of time to ruminate on things, and so we’ll give her all the time she needs.

Read on AO3

[theconnectiongarden]

Embracing Change Together: A Guide for Couples Navigating Life's Transitions

Life is like a trip with many changes and challenges. Sometimes things are smooth and easy, like floating on calm water. Other times, we face tough situations, like being in a storm with big waves. But having someone with us during these hard times makes it easier to get through them.

Major life changes, be they career shifts or relocations, can profoundly affect relationships. According to a 2021 survey by The Moving Institute, 62% of couples found moving to a new home more stressful than planning a wedding. Another study by the Career Change Lab revealed that 40% of people who changed their jobs had a lot of stress in their relationships.

This shows how important it is for partners to support each other during big life changes. Changes like moving, changing jobs, or having kids can be exciting but stressful. If both partners understand each other, take care, and really try, they can get through these tough times together. This is a detailed guide on how to be there for each other when things are hard.

Listen Actively

The first thing to do is to listen to each other. When we're going through tough times, we often get stuck in our own thoughts. Talking about our worries, frustrations, fears, and doubts with someone who listens can help us see things more clearly.

Some active listening tips:

Give your partner your undivided attention.

Let them share without interruption.

Clarify and paraphrase to check understanding.

Ask questions that help the other person think more about their feelings.

Don't judge or criticize them.

Express Care Through Actions

Listening is important, but doing helpful things also makes us feel appreciated by our loved ones. Small, kind actions can reduce stress and make us happier. Here are some ideas:

If your partner is tired from looking for an apartment, you could make dinner or give them a relaxing massage. If they are stressed from job interviews, prepare a bubble bath for them. Make them happy by getting tickets to their favorite concert or planning a trip to a nature spot like a part, a beach, or a quiet mountain retreat.

Studies say that couples who help and support each other in these ways have happier relationships. So, show your support by doing caring and comforting things.

Have Insightful Conversations

While doing things to take care of each other is important, don't avoid having deeper conversations too. These can make you feel closer and help you understand each other's feelings, especially when things are changing.

Share your individual hopes, dreams and concerns openly.

Discuss your fundamental goals and priorities.

Reflect on how your relationship can grow stronger.

When you talk about what you assume and understand each other's values, you start to agree more. This agreement acts like an anchor, keeping your relationship steady even when things outside are rough.

Set Realistic Expectations

When dealing with big changes, we often have less energy. So, it's good to rethink and adjust how you handle daily tasks in your relationship, like housework, taking care of kids, or how often you go out together.

For example, if your partner is busy with a new job, don't expect them to cook fancy meals. You can share more of the housework or get takeout instead. Be understanding if things aren't perfect. Studies show that we often get disappointed because we expect too much. So, talk about it and adjust your expectations.

Also, agree on how to make big decisions during this change, whether you'll decide together or on your own. Being clear about what you expect from each other can help avoid confusion and arguments.

Embrace Healthy Dependency

It's important to be independent, but it's also normal and sometimes necessary to rely on the people we love, especially during tough times. So, it's okay to not do everything yourself and let your partner help you more as you focus on dealing with these changes.

For instance, depend on them to:

Help research options for your change.

Brainstorm creative solutions with you.

Take on additional chores.

Comfort you on tough days.

Asking for and getting more help fits with the idea that we do better when we depend on each other. Studies from different places show that openly relying on close people, instead of hiding our problems, makes us stronger and more confident when facing tough times.

Nurture Connection

Finally, make sure to keep your bond as a couple strong by doing things like:

Regular check-ins: Talk about the good and bad things that happened recently.

Weekly dates: Make time for fun activities together.

Affection & intimacy: Be more physically close.

Shared journaling: Write down and share your thoughts about how you're growing.

Habits that improve emotional and physical closeness strengthen relationships and help protect them against the stress caused by outside changes.

Final Thoughts

By using these tips to make your relationship stronger, you and your partner can get through tough times more easily. Think about using our Couples and Relationship Therapy Workbook. It has activities for you both to do together that help with self-reflection, communication, understanding each other better, and agreeing on things. Working on these proven exercises together can help you both grow and understand each other more.

You can't be ready for every change in life, but being there for each other really helps when things get tough. Make this support stronger. Become a safe place for each other. And together, move towards happier times.

The important thing is to understand that even when things around you change, your relationship stays strong and steady. This way, life's changes feel less like big storms to get through, and more like exciting adventures to enjoy together with your partner.

So buckle up and get ready for what's coming next. How do you plan to support your partner through upcoming changes?

[itsmeseyaa]

Entry number 1:

“Beyond the Facade: A Self Introduction”

Life, to me, seems like a never-ending maze, filled with twists and turns that leave me uncertain about what lies ahead. I find myself floating through the currents, just living for the sake of being alive. I strive to become a better version of myself everyday, always seeking for improvement and growth. Yet, the path ahead remains blurred, leaving me questioning the fairness of life's hardships, wondering why some must endure more than others. I sometimes wonder if I have the strength to carry on, but I realized that I must muster all my courage just to pull through. It's an uphill battle, and I fear it will never be easy.

Hi! I'm Seya, a woman rooted in the serene province of Llorente Eastern Samar. While I may come from a tranquil and rural background, my dreams have taken me beyond these serene landscapes to pursue a degree in a bustling city. My journey is a blend of my favorite moments, my aspirations, and the challenges that come with pursuing higher education in a new environment, all underpinned by my unwavering quest for knowledge and my ambition to become a successful lawyer.

Growing up in Llorente, my favorite memories are steeped in nature's embrace. I am always fascinated by the sound of rain tapping on the leaves of our coconut trees and the breathtaking sunsets over the serene coastal shores. Yet, there's something about the city's dynamic atmosphere that also fascinates me. Just like Taylors Swift's song - I am a Dorothea. The lively streets, busy people, malls, city lights, and the opportunities for personal growth have created an enchanting tapestry against the urban backdrop, reminding me of the dreams I chase amidst the city's luminous embrace.

My pursuit of a degree in BA Communication has been a thrilling endeavor. I'm passionate about the art of effective expression and the power of words. Courses like public speaking and media production have become my academic sanctuary where I learn to craft narratives that resonate with audiences.

Each day is an opportunity to refine my skills, and I'm passionate about the role communication plays in shaping our world.

However, city life can be both exhilarating and daunting. The fast-paced lifestyle, the bustling cityscape, and the demands of academic rigor can be overwhelming at times. Balancing my studies with the demands of urban life has tested my resilience, but it's a challenge I wholeheartedly embrace. I know that these struggles are shaping me into a stronger, more resilient individual, preparing me for the ambitious path ahead.

Beyond my current academic pursuits, my dreams are anchored in the pursuit of justice. I aspire to become a lawyer, advocating for those who cannot advocate for themselves. The law's intricate web of principles and regulations intrigues me, and I see it as a powerful tool to bring about positive change in society. My journey in Communication is a stepping stone toward this ultimate goal, allowing me to refine my skills in persuasion, negotiation, and public speaking.

Life's journey may be unclear, and the challenges might be overwhelming, but I believe that by living each day with purpose, embracing every experience, and holding onto hope, I can navigate through the unknown and eventually find meaning and fulfillment. So, as I continue to forge ahead, I will carry the torch of hope, knowing that someday, all my suffering will indeed be worth it.

Malayo pa, pero malayo na!

Puhon!

[quickdisco]

1725. William Elliott Whitmore - W.E.W. (Latitudes - 2005)

Bluegrass country à la sauce moderne et tatouages.

Sometimes Our Dreams Float Llike Anchors

Discogs

[sk-lumen]

𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝓊𝓁𝓉𝒾𝓋𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝒾𝓃𝓃𝑒𝓇 𝓅𝑒𝒶𝒸𝑒, 𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝒷𝓎 𝒹𝒶𝓎

🕊 Physical clutter: Keep a clean, tidy, organized home. We often forget just how much of a negative impact clutter, dust and stale energies can have on our wellbeing. It blocks our energies and anchors us in lower vibrations, and like a domino effect or vicious cycle, it can keep you stuck in an unhealthy place. Prioritizing a clean, tidy space can make all the difference in how you feel, your mental health, and your inner peace. If you have a stressful job or lifestyle, try implementing small steps for your home’s upkeep, start with 10-20 min every day in the evening to put away clutter, wipe down surfaces, put away dishes into the dishwasher, smooth any bedding. You’ll feel so much better.

🕊 Emotional clutter: Journaling and writing in your diary is immensely therapeutic and liberating. It clears and releases the emotional baggage. It helps deconstruct all the heavy constructs in your mind, the narratives which you have given emotional charge. It helps transcend them by stating what is, validating your emotions, releasing them, and then making space for better things. Likewise, reaching out to friends and family to engage in healthy, supportive, honest conversations helps you feel seen on a deep, soulful level. For sensitive cases, including deep emotional trauma or heartache, reach out to a therapist as they can so very helpful in unraveling blockages, making sense of the pain, and processing everything. This is perfectly normal. Processing things on our own, or even with the loving support of family and friends - it isn’t always enough, sometimes we need the guidance of a specialist who is more than happy to help.

🕊 Mental clutter: Write to-do lists to stay on top of errands, then handle them one by one. Address your worries and heavy thoughts throughout the day, don’t just leave them floating in your mind until at night when it can cause anxiety, stress and even insomnia. If you feel overwhelmed with the course of events in the past days, weeks, months... then sketch, doodle or journal to make sense of your thoughts. Automate any bills, payments or tasks, or set up reminders so that there’s one less mental burden. Don’t forget about appointments - add them to your calendar for easy visibility and tracking. All these things add up. A good routine can do wonders for your mental health and allow you to be at peace, instead of scrambling every other day over what outstanding errands, tasks, appointments and bills demand your attention.

🕊 Spiritual clutter: Avoid watching TV and soaking up all the negative, fearful energy. Instead, practice mindfulness, living in the moment, taking deep breaths, stopping to smell the flowers. Meditate, do visualizations of your dream life, of positive scenarios. Ask yourself soulful, meaningful questions; what do you want in life? What is your highest self, your dream job, your dream life look like? What do you believe in? What is your soul purpose on Earth? Meditate over these questions, let the answers sit in your heart, ease into yourself. Replace fear, worry and “what ifs” with faith, clarity and joyful excitement over what the future holds. Let yourself be at peace.

[dirt-cup-draco]

Tethered- Fred x Reader

‘Don’t ever scare me like that again’ kiss with Fred where he lives (I’ve been crying about it lately) xoxo @starofthedawn

Your chest was tied up in knots, eyes burning and bile rising in your throat. The dust that permeated the air felt like gravel in your airways and you couldn’t help the wet cough that slipped past cracked lips. Even as you blinked away the tears that were running out, the world remained blurry and unfocused. 

After all, how could anything make sense when Fred was face down on the cobblestone. Pieces of the castle you two had called home burying him. 

“Lost in my eyes again, Y/N?” Fred asked, a playful tilt to his mouth. You were in the library, head buried in a book and not at all gazing into Fred’s honeyed eyes. You must’ve not heard him come in so when you looked up and saw him you couldn’t help the warmth that blossomed in your chest. 

You liked the way his lips were pulled up by an invisible thread as you finally took notice of him.  It wasn’t quite a smile, but a familiar expression that you held dear to your heart. It was understated, especially for Fred Weasley, but the expression was one of his most sincere. 

“Can’t help the fact you’ve got dreamy eyes, George,” 

“Sod off,” Fred said with no real venom, sitting in the chair beside yours and kicking his feet up onto the table. He was lucky Madam Pince didn’t often come to this corner of the library, otherwise she’d have his head.

You stuck your tongue out at him, even daring to toss a quill at his head- but before you could he caught your hand and held on tight. Your bright grin wavered at the edges but that joy was still blooming in your chest. Suffocation was a sure thing. 

“Everything okay, Freddie?” Voice soft, slow. You understood sometimes he just needed a hand to hold and you wouldn’t let yourself believe it was more than that. What it was, was Fred trusting you and needing you as a friend and that was more than enough. 

He nodded, his eyelids heavy and his demeanor sluggish. He almost seemed like a sleepy cat but you could see the way his shoulders dipped as you posed your question. 

Fred squeezed your hand as he sank down into his chair, knees now drawn to his chest in a protective ball. “Course I am, nothing could ever be wrong when I’ve got you to tether me to what’s good,” 

--

Your knees buckled as you stumbled the last foot to where Fred lay. Unmoving, broken, probably not breathing- You shook your head wildly even as the tears burned and your brain ached. Just like every other wizard, every other soldier at Hogwarts today, you had your fair share of injuries but you felt the pain dull to nothing; Your vision tunneled to the familiar hand that stuck out from the rubble, the feather soft shock of red hair that was visible under all the grey, lifeless stone. 

With a flick of your hand, some of the rubble broke loose and found themselves discarded on the burned and torn up grass ten feet from you. The panic pounding at your ribcage was only eased by the determination you felt to get Fred out of there, alive. There was no other option. 

Waves would stand still without the moon, plants would dry up without water, and you would cease to be anything but a shell without Fred Weasley. 

--

It had been an honest mistake at the time, George had tugged you away after class one day to an empty corridor and nearly begged you to ask Fred and put the both of you out of your “self sabotaging misery”. Problem was, all Katie Bell saw was George whisking you away somewhere private a week before the ball was to commence, both of you dateless. 

By the time you had both gone to the great hall for lunch, your group of friends were deep into speculations. 

“Going to the ball with Y/N then?” Fred fixed George with a look you couldn’t quite decipher but the shock of him thinking such a thing had you missing that usual twitch of his eye when he was aggravated. 

George whipped his head to you in confusion but it went unnoticed when Lee said, “Great! Of course you two got dates before me,” gesturing wildly to the twins. 

All of the confusion had your head spinning but hearing that Fred had a date to the ball made you steady again, the lead pit in your stomach anchoring you. Anyone would be a fool to not want to go with Fred. 

“You’ve got a date?” You said a bit too loudly, eyes narrowed at Fred. 

“Asked Angie,” 

“Yeah, two minutes ago,” She snorted. “Guess he didn’t want George to beat him by too much of a landslide,”  

George let out a too-loud laugh and tossed his arm back over your shoulders. “Take that Lee, we got two of the hottest girls in school to be our dates,” 

“Go with me instead and I’ll buy you as many sugar quills as your heart desires, Y/N” Lee bargained and George swatted him on the back of a head with a faux glare. 

You couldn’t help but snort at Lee’s antics, looking at George with gratitude. You could tell he was trying to talk you up, keep your heart from falling too far. However, his efforts couldn’t completely ease the ache in your chest. You were tethered to Fred and you didn’t think anything could change that. 

--

You’d done your best to completely immobilize Fred when most of the rubble was removed, only some of the smaller chunks of wall now littered over his legs and back. The immobulus charm had to be enough to keep him stable. If he was still alive. 

It was the uncertainty that kept you going in this moment. If there was even a slim chance Fred could be alive, you would do all you could to save him. You refused to lose him and that was that. You wished you could see his chest moving, or any sign of life but he was still too buried and the dust that settled over the battlefield made your eyes unfocused. 

Even though the final battle had ended an hour or more ago, how long had it been since you’d found Fred?, you were shut off from any of the joy that the win could have brought you. If Fred wasn’t going to be there to celebrate then how could you? 

“We’ve got to fix up the shop a-and get butterbeers,” You sniffled, trying to keep your hands from shaking as you worked your way through the rubble. You kept speaking as if holding Fred to his promises would bring him over the threshold and into your waiting arms. 

“You’ve got to give me that birthday present you’ve been bragging about for months, and you’ve got to help me prank Lee for singeing my favorite sweater with one of your fireworks,”

And on and on you went, all of the promises Fred had ever made you falling from your lips as you pulled the last of the rubble from his body. One of his legs and all of the fingers on his right hand were bent at grotesque angles. There was a line of blood that started somewhere behind his hairline and trailed down his temple, dripping off of his jaw and onto the ruins he had nearly become a permanent part of. 

You wouldn’t permit your legs to shake as you stood, the sun being further down in the sky than you remembered. The wave of your wand was light and methodical even as every step towards help weighed you down. 

Time passed you without you taking note, the sun sank beneath the horizon and you stumbled your way through the dark. Eventually, you were taken off guard by the light of someone’s wand. Time caught up to you then as you stared with bleary eyes, trying to recognize the face before you but having a hard time sorting anything in your over exhausted brain. 

“Help him,” Was all you had energy for, before darkness took over. 

--

“...understand how she did it,” 

“...miracle, really,” 

“Poor girl must’ve....” 

Conversations floated around your head as you lay cemented underneath the sheets that you had been securely wrapped in. You wanted nothing more than to swat them away like pesky flies, the voices weren’t loud but to you it was as if someone had put a speaker in the empty space of your skull and turned the volume up as high as it could go. Everything ached. 

“Am I dead?” You croaked, eyelids still too heavy to even attempt opening. 

Immediately, a woman nearly screamed and a cacophony of other voices rose up- both familiar and not. 

“You look like you wish you were,” Someone joked to your left and your eyes snapped open so quickly you became dizzy. You felt frozen in place as honey eyes swept over you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Despite being covered from the chin down you felt as if you were being looked through. A shiver ran down your spine and it was followed by a deep ache that had you groaning despite the emotions bubbling up within you. 

“Damn you Fred,” Was all you had to say before everyone else around you was clearing out. For a split second you felt guilt when you realized your parents as well as the Weasleys had come to stand beside you as you healed. 

“I’ve come back from the brink of death and that’s what you have to say to me?” He teased but his voice was torn to shreds and you had the terrible image in your mind of him screaming for help until he lost consciousness. The blood drained from your face. 

Fred seemed to take notice as he shuffled out of his bed that was right next to yours. He paused at the edge, fumbling for the crutches that were at his bedside. It felt like years the time it took for him to fall into the chair nearest you, his hand stretching for yours. 

You moved pathetically against the sheets but in your weakened state you couldn’t grasp his hand. “Freddie,” You croaked, eyes filling with tears in frustration. You’d thought him dead and now you couldn’t even move a damn blanket to touch him, to make sure this wasn’t a dream. 

“I’m here,” He reassured, moving the sheets on your side gently until your hand was free and you could tangle your fingers with his non-broken hand. 

“How?” 

“I’ve been telling you for years now, you’re my tether. Just when I thought I was going to cross over, I heard you. All the promises we made, and all the chaos we have yet to make, all the things I haven’t said,” Fred’s bottom lip trembled as he brushed his thumb over your scabbed knuckles. You were faintly aware of a needle in your forearm, attached to an IV but all that mattered was the warmth you felt from Fred. 

“You could break them all and I’d still be counting my lucky stars that you’re here,” You cried, falling into a coughing fit. Fred was quick to press a still cold glass of water into your hands and help you sit up even from his place on his chair. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” He promised, hand remaining at the back of your neck as he settled you against your pillows. That genuine not-smile was back and you chewed on your lip to keep from crying again. You still weren’t sure he was here so any reminder that it was really him had you at a breaking point. 

“Can you make me one more promise then?” You caught his gaze but found you couldn’t hold it, the intensity making your stomach swoop and your heart pound against your rattled ribcage. 

Fred had yet to move, his hand steady behind you and his face close. Your noses were nearly touching as he said, “Anything.” 

“Don’t scare me like that ever again,” 

You chanced one more look at him, eyes wide and pleading. You were going to make him promise on everything in him but the rest of your words were lost when you stumbled over the loud adoration in his eyes. As if on autopilot, you removed your hand from his to brush your fingertips against a gash on his cheek. 

“Never again,” He whispered, frozen in place. He didn’t dare move when you let your movements wander over his lips, taking your time before you let your hand fall against the junction of where his shoulder met his neck. Beneath the collar of the hospital gown you could see garish bruising that only served as another reminder you’d almost lost him. 

That was enough to remind you that there was much unsaid between you and the man you loved. You could feel his shaky breath, his hand squeezing yours just enough that you felt the reassuring pressure. When you took your third look at those eyes, you knew. 

You moved at the same time, in tune to one another in a way you always have been. It was with a sigh that your lips met, frightened and curious and wonderful. You were careful of his head would as you played with the hair at the back of his neck and he made sure not to move you anymore than tilting your head to slot your lips against his at a better angle. 

Fred pulled away when his smile dared to take over his face but you couldn’t complain about the loss when you could feel his pulse beating strongly against your fingers, his chest moving steadily with life. 

“I’m just as tied to you as you are to me,” You laughed softly, in disbelief. 

Fred looked surprised for all but a second before he was placing his lips against yours, cautious but deliriously happy. 

Waves swayed with the moon, plants flourished with water, and you were never far from Fred Weasley. Each were tethered to their counterpart and nothing could change it. 

[prettyboykatsuki]

bakugou katsuki believes love is an infinity

there is no one but you.

when he thinks of love, he thinks of how he’s lived up until now - he reminds himself of how no ones ever been this close to him in his entire life. not close like hand in hand but close as in - when he hurts, he confesses it to you. close as in phone calls and hanging out on balconies and spending so much time with you.

when bakugou katsuki thinks of love, he doesn’t particularly feel anything. he’s not overwhelmed by it, it doesn’t make his heart-beat do that pitter- patter thing that it seems to do for everyone else. but love is where love leaves, which means it hangs off of shadows in the middle of the night. he finds it in the halos that streetlights make in the winter. in the smoke in cold air - the night sky anchoring him to confessions. 

love is not something you fall into, he doesn’t think. falling means you must land somewhere, and brace the impact but love doesn’t feel like that. doesn’t feel like he has to close his eyes and get ready for whatever meets him at the bottom, ungraceful. love doesn’t feel like a love song, or a rapid heart-beat, or an awkward confession.

love feels like a sticky note, folded and tucked into your jacket pocket - folded and left for next time. it feels like holding a paper-weight and seeing the colors in the store light. it feels like hands, like nothing and everything all at once. like if you let it destroy you, it will - but you can also just leave it. you can leave love in the backseat of a car or in the mouth of someone - and the next day, you’ll find it again.  love is like that. 

it stays put when you want it to, but it follows you if that’s what you want. love is whatever you need it to be. it’s there even when it isn’t. the warmth of a body is something you can find everywhere but love can only exist in an infinity. like if you try to capture it - you’ll never get it down to a science. 

and people try, with poems and words and photographs and phone calls. but love is not something to capture. love is an infinite thing - doesn’t pay heed to space or time or convivence. if you run from it, stray from it - it will find you. it has teeth but they aren’t sharp, they’re dull and flat. they cling but don’t pierce. love is sometimes dull, sometimes nothing much. 

he doesn’t think there is anything in our world that exists in the same way love does. not anger that you feel in the concave of your heart, not solace that you feel in your tearducts, not remorse in your throat. love is so in your body that it will only ever make you feel like you are floating. for bakugou katsuki who is many things, who always holds violence in his palms - an explosive being, holding nothing is odd. 

weightlessness is a strange feeling when you are always soaked heavily with  your own inadequacy. when failure and guilt make home in your carmine eyes and you’ve spent your entire life believing you’ll never amount to more than this. that all you can do to ease the ache is climb so high and so far, gravity forgets that you exist. perhaps dreams are also a self-injury. 

but love.. love can make you weightless. bakugou katsuki looks at you with soft gentle eyes as you sleep across from him. your lashes flutter and drool dries on your cheek and he realizes that love has made him feel weightless. and that he can drift off anywhere he likes. that he can do anything he pleases. 

bakugou katsuki thinks love is an infinity because he cannot remember where he starts and where you end. all he knows is that you fall into each other.

and he, is forever in this loop. in this back in forth of loving you. that it feels like nothing and everything to be here next to your beating heart. you trust him enough to see you sleep, and you hold his clumsy hands like they don’t only commit acts of violence. 

there is no one but you, for him. and if you are forever, then love must also be a forever. a timeless thing. 

love is an infinity, he thinks. 

what else could it possibly be?

[canonicallyanxious]

“i trust you, too.”

Druck | Fatou/Kieu My | 1.5k words

Inspired by this prompt from anonymous: kieu my painting fatou's nails

-

Thank you for the prompt, anon!! Post-canon/established relationship set in the summertime bc I’m tired of this winter and I miss the warmth. hope you enjoy this tiny thing! <3

The patio door’s wide open, gauzy curtains gently caught on the breeze - which looks nice, sure, but does almost nothing to combat the oppressive heat of the summer hanging over Kieu My’s room. The ceiling fan is turning at full speed, and Fatou has a tall tumbler filled to the brim with ice sitting cradled in her hands. Doesn’t seem to help all that much, honestly. She presses the glass to her cheek and shudders at the sudden cold. It feels good in that one spot, a sharp contrast to the hot stickiness plastering her shirt to her skin. If she poured it all over herself she’d probably make a mess of Kieu My’s room. So she can’t do that, because it’d be rude as hell.

Still. It’d be nice.

Kieu My’s down to a black tank top and a pair of Fatou’s shorts, face bare of make-up and hair pulled hastily up into a messy bun. She hardly put any effort into it, wispy strands slipping out of its hold and falling into her eyes as she stretches her arms above her head, tank top riding up a couple centimeters to expose the smooth tan of her stomach. Maybe six months ago Fatou wouldn’t have even allowed herself to daydream of something like this, to imagine she could be in such close proximity to someone so beautiful. She would have been a stuttering mess if Kieu My so much as took her jacket off in front of her - had been, in fact, embarrassing as it was to remember. Back then it almost seemed like she belonged to some faraway planet Fatou would never have the guts to reach. Too pretty, too bright to be quite true.

Now there are no nerves, no butterflies in her stomach. Now looking at Kieu My fills her with peace, with stillness. Now she knows - the most beautiful thing about Kieu My is how real she is.

Kieu My exhales, long and low, and meets Fatou’s eyes. There’s a very faint flush in her cheeks, from the heat or something else Fatou couldn’t say. “Can’t even think in this fucking heat,” she murmurs. Her tongue swipes over her bottom lip, slightly chapped.

Fatou carefully sets the glass down on the floor. “Would you want to be thinking?”

“Don’t know.”

A long pause. Almost like Kieu My doesn’t know what to say next. That’s okay, though. Fatou can fill in the gaps for herself.

“So you need a distraction,” she says.

Kieu My huffs out a quiet laugh. “Like what?”

“Like…” Fatou stretches her legs out in front of her and frowns down at her feet, thinking hard. She flexes her foot, letting her toes brush against Kieu My’s shin.

Her toes.

She breaks into a smile. “Like painting my toenails,” she says, giving them another little wriggle for good measure.

Kieu My pinches Fatou’s big toe between two fingers. “Yeah?”

“I’ve been meaning to do them for a while, anyway.” Fatou shrugs. “I can do yours too, if you want. If you trust me.”

“Of course I trust you,” Kieu My says with a roll of her eyes. She reaches behind her and grabs a pile of random nail polish bottles from her nearby dresser. She dumps them on the floor and flourishes her hands dramatically over them. “What color would you like, m’lady?”

Fatou lets herself fall down onto the floor, face turned to the ceiling and arms folded across her stomach. “You pick.”

Kieu My circles her hand around her ankle and pulls her foot into her lap. “Are you sure?”

Fatou nods.

“Okay.” Kieu My’s expression turns playfully stern. “Don’t look, then. It needs to be a surprise.”

Fatou squints at the ceiling, the motion of the fan above her head blurring across her vision. Kind of makes her dizzy if she looks at it for too long, even lying down. It’s moving too fast to count the rotations. She doesn’t even try.

There’s the sound of a nail polish bottle being screwed open. “Are you looking?” Kieu My says accusingly. There’s too much of her smile in her voice for it to sound real, though. Fatou doesn’t have to look to know that.

“No.” She closes her eyes. “I trust you, too.”

Kieu My says nothing to that. So there’s silence for a bit. Fatou listens to it carefully. Cars passing by the open patio door, rhythmic like an ocean; the gentle clink of the nail polish brush against the bottle; Kieu My’s breaths, slow and measured and focused as she works. She’s quite meticulous about this kind of thing, always careful to do it the right way. If Fatou had to guess she’s probably starting with a coat of clear polish. Then there will be two coats of color, and a coat of varnish to seal it all away. The color, whatever it is, will last a while this time - Fatou already knows it.

The brush is a nice feeling against her nails, oddly enough. She’s never really paid much attention to the sensation before - never really had much reason to. She could be on her phone right now if she wanted to be. Or reading a book. Or thinking about some distant world lightyears away. But this is nice, too. No distractions means she can pay attention to the feeling of Kieu My’s hands against her skin. Which is kind of one of her favorite things to do.

“You okay over there?” Fatou says to the ceiling.

“Yeah.” Fingertips press lightly into the sole of her foot, warm and reassuring. “Nice to have something to do with my hands.”

Fatou considers those words. “You don’t like doing nothing, do you?”

“Not really.”

Fatou hums tunelessly. “Don’t like being bored?”

Kieu My snorts. “No, nothing like that.” She sighs, hands brushing against Fatou’s foot as she works. “It’s more… Sometimes my thoughts move so fast, you know? It’s… overwhelming. Like they’re just racing and racing and I don’t even know what they’re saying, all I know is that they’re moving. And sometimes I don’t know how to make them stop.”

“That doesn’t sound fun,” Fatou says.

Kieu My laughs. It sounds a little self-deprecating. “I don’t know. Things get too loud sometimes, I guess. But if I have something to focus on… That helps make things go quiet again, for a bit.”

It makes sense, if she thinks about it. What Kieu My needs is not so much a distraction, but a focal point. Some direction for all the motion in her head to go. Fatou thinks she knows a little of what that’s like, to crave something to anchor yourself to. The thought of drifting away with nothing to hold onto scares her more than she’d probably admit out loud.

“Sorry.” Fatou can almost hear Kieu My shaking her head, can almost see the way her hair brushes over her shoulders in her mind’s eye. “Sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

“Not at all.” Fatou taps her fingers against her other wrist as she tries to find the words. “I was just thinking I kind of feel like I have the opposite problem sometimes.”

“Yeah?”

“Like…” She chews at her lip. “Like my thoughts are moving through molasses. Like sometimes I’m just… floating.”

Silence, for a beat. Then:

“Maybe if we melded our brains together,” Kieu My says, “we could have one super-brain that goes at the right speed and then we’ll almost be one fully functioning human being.”

Laughter springs out of Fatou, unbidden. “What a dream.”

“Science will get us there one day.”

“Yeah?” Fatou cracks an eye open and smiles at Kieu My. “Do you think we’ll be drift-compatible if they start making jaegers?”

“Duh.” Kieu My grins back at Fatou. “Don’t ask me to fight monsters from another dimension though, that sounds fucking hard. We can use our jaeger to - fuck, I don’t know, travel the world or something. That sounds like something you can do in a jaeger, right?”

“Or go to space.” Fatou tucks her hands under her head. “You can’t tell me a giant robot person wouldn’t make the coolest spaceship you’ve ever seen.”

“I can’t because you’re absolutely right.”

Kieu My makes a quiet little noise of satisfaction, then. There’s the sound of a nail polish bottle being screwed closed, and the warmth of a bare palm resting against the top of Fatou’s foot.

“Done,” Kieu My says. “Wanna see?”

Fatou props herself up on her elbows, and looks down.

“Wow,” she says. She wiggles her toes, now painted a midnight blue that gleams and shimmers when caught in the light. “It’s beautiful.”

Kieu My uses a hand to push her bangs out of her face. “I picked a color that reminds me of you.”

“Does that mean I need to pick a color that reminds me of you?”

Kieu My shrugs. “If you want.”

Fatou reaches into the pile of nail polish and pulls out a bottle filled to the brim with a deep crimson red.

“The color of your heart,” she says.

Kieu My looks up at her. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” Fatou says. “You picked the color of mine.”

Kieu My reaches out and closes Fatou’s fingers around the bottle, warmth of her palm resting lightly against her knuckles.

“You say such pretty things,” she says.

Fatou meets Kieu My’s eyes. “I only say things that are true.”

“Yeah,” Kieu My says, and smiles. “Same thing.”

[pizzazz-party]

Part 3: Ring’s Biology and Possible Origins

In the world of Ring Fit Adventure, there exist monsters, ghosts, cyborgs, robots, gods, a curious array of animals, human beings of enormous size…and Ring. Ring—a creature so entirely unique, he fails to fit into any of those categories.

Everyone has their own idea as to what Ring is, and as to where he came from. So here’s mine.

(Spoilers for the end of the main storyline. Various postgame dialogue spoilers beyond that.)

If we’re going to talk about where Ring might have come from, it makes sense to look for clues in what he’s presented as. Physically, and subtextually. So let’s take it from the top.

Stepping away from the confines of the game, Ring’s shape is based off a Pilates ring, a piece of exercise equipment who’s history dates back to nearly a century ago, as of the game’s release. It was invented to help rehabilitate wounded soldiers through physical therapy following World War I. Design-wise, though…Ring’s face draws heavy inspiration from depictions of Ancient Inca art. Specifically, he looks a lot like the figure atop this ceremonial tumi knife.

The prominent nose. The familiar jawline. A headpiece bisecting the brow. The blue commonly set into the eyes of the art. The ears—heavy earrings were unisex among the Inca nobility, resulting in long, stretched lobes. But most importantly—the statue is gold. And in the ancient Inca Empire, gold was revered as being sweat from the very sun itself. Metal nowadays is often associated with machinery, with invention. But raw metal has always been a fruit of the earth, as natural as any wood or leaf. The Inca took it a step further. They thought of gold as mystical.

Likewise, Ring’s design is meant to invoke these traits. Despite being made of metal, Ring visibly lacks gears or wiring or nozzles or hatches. His mouth may have a hinge and his flaming little hair piece may spin around. But in terms of “build,” Ring (the magical metal donut) has more in common with Pinocchio (the magical wooden puppet), than with an actual machine.

On a surface level, Ring really is best described as a “magical creature.” He’s obviously not made of flesh and blood. But he’s alive in a way that the closest comparison—sentient robots—just aren’t. Ring sweats, breathes, sleeps, eats. He ages. His metal face flexes and grows and shrinks as he speaks. Ring wields exercise energy, much in the same way that humans do, and more. He crafts, enhances, and stores things with it. Its raw essence flows through him like a fiery kind of lifeblood.

Ring’s not a human or a cyborg. He’s not a monster or a ghost or an animal. He’s made of metal like a robot, and that’s about it. And while Ring may (presumably) have the long life of a god, he lacks everything else. Right down to the proper shape and abilities. Ring, whatever the specifics, is a “magical creature” that exists in a class of his own. We never ever meet another being quite like him.

…At least. That’s what I used to think.

———

The thing with Ring is, it’s hard to tell whether he’s actively omitting facts or just forgetting them. He’s got a terrible memory. But he also as good as lies to us in the beginning, pretending as though Dragaux’s just some enemy to him.

So here is what I understand.

We meet Ring, and he and Dragaux are positioned as these perfect opposites, as perfect enemies. Ring builds others up, and Dragaux tears them down. Dragaux is flashy, an eyesore, the purple to Ring’s yellow, and yet he steals the stage every time. He’s a jerk, but he’s Ring’s jerk. We show up to every boss fight because we are invested in his story, his opinions, his downward spiral.

And that’s our first mistake, really. Because Dragaux’s accent color isn’t purple, it’s pink. Because Dragaux’s opposite isn’t Ring, it’s Trainee. And Ring’s real foil was never Dragaux, but Dark Influence itself.

———

Have you ever thought about how strange it is, this particular parasite. From a narrative standpoint, I mean. As much as it’s referred to as “Dragaux’s influence” or “Dragaux’s aura,” Dragaux is only its latest meal, not its source. And that meal has been lasting anywhere from decades to a century, at least. Dark Influence is, by nature, negativity incarnate. It could be as old as the hills. Older, maybe.

Dark Influence is voiceless, faceless. A parasite composed of pure negative exercise energy, it can theoretically exist on its own. But it thrives best when entrenched in the heart of a host. Its host—a physical creature that, once ensnared, starts exhibiting traits that belong to the Influence: like great swathes of flame in its signature color.

Does that not sound. Familiar.

Because Ring and Dark Influence? Fulfill eerily similar roles, in regards to their syncing partners.

Both of them harness their partner’s exercise energy. Both of them augment the abilities of their partner. But unlike Ring, who’s always actively helping Trainee in precise and creative ways…Dark Influence doesn’t care. I’m not sure if it can give a care about anything that doesn’t include “amassing power” and “spreading itself.” (And I think those are just instincts. I’ve yet to see proof that this thing has anything approaching a complex personality.) But whether or not it cares about Dragaux, it’s fully anchored within his body. It shares its strength with him because there’s nowhere else to store it.

Because unlike Ring, Dark Influence lacks a physical body of its own.

And that thought. How it “lacks” a body. Just sort of stuck around in my head. Because it’s funny, isn’t it? That Ring speaks and this thing doesn’t. That Dark Influence, this wildfire, is so strong and potent and infectious while Ring’s inner flames are so small and orderly and self-contained.

And then I started thinking about coins. Isn’t it funny, that they’re shaped like little rings. Isn’t it funny, that they sometimes just. Spring out of the ground.

How does a free-to-play gym turn a profit. How do all of these gyms, turn a profit.

If NPCs canonically collect coins on their travels just like Trainee… If someone isn’t just throwing away buckets of money into the mountains and rivers and skies… if golden little rings can just spring into existence alongside someone as they’re jogging…

What if it’s not a quirk. What if it’s not just a game mechanic.

What if everything—the coins, the EXP medals, the treasure chests with Ring’s face on them—what if they’re all byproducts that occur when a physical place is saturated with high amounts of foot traffic. With high amounts of exercise energy. People in Ring Fit Adventure constantly expel this stuff as they jog or work out or engage in fit battles. They don’t really direct it anywhere after its release. It just kind of gets absorbed into their surroundings. I always assumed that it helped make the land so lush and pretty, but what if it doesn’t stop there. What if, when large quantities of it gather, exercise energy naturally builds up and condenses itself into permanent, physical solids.

And I thought of Ring. Of the coins that are shaped like him. Of the medals that eerily share his face. Of the treasure chests especially, the way they scream and run and flex as though alive. (And I thought about Dragaux, who’s canonically brilliant, and how even his best statues fell short of capturing that same quality of animation.) I thought about how all three of these byproducts are golden. Just. Like. Ring.

Something like “dark” influence should have a natural counterpart. It’s a tale as old as time; perfect opposites, perfect enemies. But we never meet the Influence’s other half, do we? Just Ring.

Ring, our buddy, our pal. Ring, who’s a person in every way that matters, with hope and dreams and insecurities. Ring the “magical creature,” who, despite all of this, has more in common with Dark Influence than with any other creature in all of Ring Fit.

———

So here is the heart of my crazy theory.

Ring isn’t “partially” made of energy. He’s all energy, all the way down to his every last piece, whether it flows like a river or shines like a stone. And it could be that a long, long time ago, he existed much in the same way as the Dark Influence we fight in the game: as an unrestrained and formless entity. Not as a ring, but as a bright and brainless swathe of flames.

(Because if Dark Influence is insecurity and self-destruction and decay, balance would dictate its opposite be positivity, self-improvement, rebirth. A dangerously Bright Influence.)

And maybe it was just a natural process that got triggered when the conditions were right. But either way, somehow, someway, this particular Influence reincarnated into a shape that could better interact with people, without overwhelming or eating them. And that most natural shape condensed itself into Ring.

A baby Ring.

———

Even if you don’t buy into the existence of “Bright” Influence, Ring fully being some sort of life energy incarnate answers too many questions. It would explain why Ring is so good at manipulating exercise energy; it’s the most natural extension of himself. It would explain why Ring has the unique ability to sync with people; it’s how he originally used to exist, as life energy drifting in and out of living creatures. It would explain the aging. It would explain why Ring never mentions a parent or creator watching over him during childhood; because he came into this world totally alone. (Baby Ring belonged to no one before he belonged with Baby Drags.)

But Ring’s theoretical past life answers a few more questions. It could explain parts of Ring’s personality, his interests. (His dream of spreading positivity across the land.) It explains why there aren’t ten million Rings floating about, when coins and medals and chests are so relatively common. (Because there’s a key ingredient missing). It actually explains his five special powers. (Because I’m betting Influences have human-related origins. It’s either that, or “live humans being consumed” was part of the “perfect” conditions surrounding Ring’s birth. Which, cringe.) But more than anything, it addresses the sheer power imbalance happening between Ring and Dark Influence right now.

Dark Influence lacks boundaries and spreads itself like a virus, thoughtless and instinctive. Ring’s natural weapon against this thing should be to “infect” it right back. (I would expect some sort of sick light show to dance across Dragaux’s body during battle; yellow flames squaring off against purple.) But it doesn’t work that way. Ring the Person no longer works this way.

If Dark influence is a forest fire, then Ring is a fireplace set behind glass. At their core, these two are both energy. But the modes in which they exist divide them into separate skill sets entirely.

Dark Influence is wildfire of brute strength. It’s got range—in the spatial sense. It can spread to as many secondary hosts as Dragaux directs it to, so long as it’s fed well enough to reach for them. Compared to Ring’s measly one syncing partner, Dark Influence can sink itself into whole regions, can simultaneously feed off of so many people. It doesn’t have outright mind control powers; it’s more subtle than that. But its presence as negativity incarnate naturally works like a magnet to draw out the worst in people. There is nothing it enhances in a person that wasn’t already there, no matter how small the weakness. Coupled with the rush of power it imparts in its vessels, it makes bad decisions feel right. Even to good people. It’s, quite simply, a bad influence. (And then it consumes them.)

But other than that, Dark Influence doesn’t really do much.

Our bud Ring may only be able to light one house at a time, so to speak. But as contained as he is—Ring’s powers are more varied and nuanced, because Ring is more varied and nuanced. He’s always actively (and thoughtfully) applying energy to construct, convert, and amplify. For all its fearsome strength, the only thing Dark Influence can seemingly do on purpose, is feed.

———

(If Ring was once a being like Dark Influence, then that solves the final mystery of synchronization. If Dark Influence “infects” its host by sinking into the body, then Ring syncs with a partner by “planting” a piece of his essence inside them. This is why Trainee’s energy signature changes to mimic Ring’s; because she now carries a part of him in her beating heart. This is why Ring can freely access her energy; because this makes her a part of him now, too.)

———

So. Let’s pretend I’m not crazy. Say that all of these little details I’ve collected were intentionally laid out by the game developers. Say I’m correct, and that Ring really is, essentially, the child of Dark Influence’s greatest natural enemy.

The real question is: how self aware is Ring about all of this.

Because unfortunately, Ring not knowing his own backstory could be pretty on-brand for him. I love Ring, but from his point of view, it really could be that he just appeared one day, somehow—as an entirely clean slate. “Dark” or “bright,” these entities are brainless. Literally. No body means no brain. They can’t store memories, so they don’t have memories. Just energy.

Ring must know that he’s made from energy, too. He might even think of himself as one very lucky byproduct. But if this is really what Ring used to be (if there’s even a shadow of a chance that his predecessor used to eat people), then he might not know the full extent of his own story.

And maybe that’s for the best. I can’t imagine him choosing to get close to people otherwise. He loves people, cares so much about every single silly soul that he meets.

This would hurt him.

———

Whatever Ring’s origins may be, whatever he might have once been (if he’s ever been anything else at all)… I do know one thing. And it’s that I prefer him prefer him just the way he is.

Weird comments about my sweat aside, I wouldn’t have him any other way.

———

TL;DR: Our bud Ring has more in common with Dark Influence than with any other creature in all of Ring Fit.

If a flaming entity of negative energy can exist, then why not one made of positive energy? If positive energy condenses into permanent solids naturally and often…if Ring is made of positive energy…if Ring has more in common with Dark Influence than with anything else in this game…

Who’s to say that Ring himself, wasn’t once a flaming yellow mass of energy.

———

This marks the end. I could run wild with all the implications this theory leaves in its wake. But I’ve made my point. I’ve found every answer I was looking for. And they may not have been the answers I was expecting (or even wanting), but they’ve satisfied me all the same.

I’m done. Believe what you will.

Thanks for reading, and for sticking with me all this way. It’s been real.

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DISCLAIMER: My name is Pizzazz and I take this game way too seriously. This is all for fun! At the time of this post, I am on World 36 of the post game. I feel pretty strongly about my conclusions, but I’ll go back and edit this if/when/where applicable.

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RING ANALYSIS

Part 1: Synchronizing—How it Works and What It Tells Us About Ring

Part 2: Ring’s Powers—And What They All Have In Common

Part 3: Ring’s Biology and Possible Origins

[five-rivers]

Long Night in the Valley chapter 7

Oof, this chapter kept getting longer.

.

It was times like this that really drove home the fact that Eri had been raised by yakuza.  

Normally, it was easy to forget.  Eri was an angel, almost too well behaved at times, and Mirio loved spending time with her.  Being asked to look after her while her foster parents were away was a privilege, not a chore.

Right now, though?

Now, Eri was in the middle of total meltdown and screaming threats at the news anchor who had just… reported something totally unbelievable and, if he was being honest, incredibly aggravating, even for him.  

Mirio hoped Eri didn’t know the meanings of half the words she was shouting but, Chisaki Kai being the utter horror that he was, she’d probably seen at least some of them done to people in front of her.  

Once again, Mirio was filled with the totally reasonable, if unheroic, desire to punch Chisaki until his legs came off like his arms did. As this was not, in the moment, a helpful impulse, he pushed it aside.  

“I’m gonna kill you!” screamed Eri, throwing another marker at the TV screen, tears streaming down her face and horn sparking dangerously.

On one hand, it was great that Eri felt safe enough here at UA and around Mirio to have this outburst.  On the other, Mirio really, really did not want to get de-aged out of existence.  

It would be really great to have his quirk right now. Or Tamaki.  If only he and Hado hadn’t been at their internships today, maybe they could have solved this together.

He was currently alternating between trying to verbally calm Eri down and serially dialing every teacher involved in Eri’s care.  

Aizawa-sensei’s phone just rang and rang.  

Yamada-sensei’s went straight to a completely unhelpful voicemail.  

Kayama-sensei’s went to an even less helpful voicemail that also had the side-effect of making Mirio feel incredibly embarrassed.  

All Might-sensei was supposedly “kidnapped.”

Recovery Girl had her ‘medical emergency’ message on.  

This left a single, terrifying recourse.  

Nezu.  

With shaking hands, he pressed the call button and prepared to pray to the Rat God.

“Hi, Principal Nezu!” he said, loudly and brightly as soon as he heard the phone pick up.

“Hello, Togata-kun!  I take it that Eri-chan has seen the news?”

“I’m going to tear out your eyes and sew them to your a—”

Hoooo, boy.  

“Yeah,” said Mirio, “and she’s not taking it well.  I’m really sorry, but I need help.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for!” chirped Nezu.  “Knowing when to call for backup is something we try to instill in all our students.  I’ll be over right away.”

There was a beep as the line went dead.  Mirio put his phone back in his pocket and winced as Eri took a deep breath and let out another round of invective.  

“Eri,” he said, deciding to make one more attempt to calm her down before Nezu came, “don’t you think that’s a bit much?  She’s probably only saying what she’s been told.”

Eri whirled, incensed.  “But that’sa lie!  Deku isn’t a villain!”

“I know, but—”

“It’s the news!” she said, stomping her foot.  “They’re not supposed to say things that aren’t true! That’s what Yagi-san says!”

“She might not know it isn’t true,” said Mirio, smiling consolingly (he knew this particular smile was consoling, because he’d practiced extensively).  “Sometimes, people believe lies.  Even good people.”

This was something Eri knew well, so Mirio hoped this reasoning got through to her.  

It did not.  

“But,” said Eri, incredulously, “it’s Deku.”

Mirio agreed with that sentiment, he really did.  But the sheer level of fury currently concentrated into Eri’s tiny body was too much for him to handle.  

Still, she seemed to be thinking instead of yelling or crying, so that was good.  

“I’m going to bite them,” she said, dreadfully calm.  

“Who?” asked Mirio, dreading the answer and knowing the storm had only stopped momentarily.  

“The people who come to interrogate me,” said Eri, as if it were a given that she’d be interrogated.  He was impressed she knew the word, right up until how she must have known it hit him.

“Why are you going to bite them?”

“Deku said that if a stranger tried to make me go with them or do something I didn’t want I should bite them and scream.  And also…”  She proceeded to describe a series of actions that would probably have the average assailant lying on the ground in a fetal position, defeated.  “And you, and Amajiki-san, and Hado-san said I should…”  Mirio vaguely recalled being consulted for and contributing certain portions of this but combined with Midoriya’s contributions and Eri’s anger it became significantly more sinister.  “And ‘Zawa agreed and he told me I should…”  Ah.  That was worse.  Much worse. And knowing Aizawa, he’d probably taught her how to do at least some of it.

Mirio abruptly realized that, out of all the people Eri knew, he was most likely the second sanest.  He, as a person who saw no issue with appearing nude on national television multiple times, was not used to having such a position.  

If the commission were wise, they wouldn’t send any of their people anywhere near Eri.  They’d die.  

The door burst open.  “Am I a dog, a mouse, or a bear?  One thing’s for sure, I’m the principal!”

Mirio now understood why Tamaki spent so much time hiding in corners.

.

His students screamed alongside him as he fell.  He twisted, surprised and uncontrolled, in the air, flashes of skyscraper windows passing in and out of his vision.  Above him, the woman, Nana, stood on the air, looking down.  

Uraraka had reflexively stopped herself fairly quickly with her quirk, but she was now too far away to reach himself, Iida, or Todoroki. Todoroki was trying to copy one of his father’s moves and fly with the flames produced by his left side, but obviously trying to do something like that with no practice wasn’t going to work well.

Suzuki was there, too, but Aizawa’s first responsibility was to his kids, not the idiot that got them into this mess.  

He swung his capture weapon upwards, trying to reach Uraraka, but the tumbling threw his aim off.  

Green lightning flashed in the corner of his eye, and he found himself wrapped in black tentacles and moving sideways at great speed.  They crashed through one of the windows into an oddly blurry and muted office space.  

Midoriya released Aizawa and set down his classmates carefully. “Can you get Ochako down?  Blackwhip is still… difficult.”

Aizawa looked Midoriya over quickly.  He was wearing his hero costume.  It had the same tears in it as it did after the aerial battle with Chisaki Kai.  

There was a pattern here.  

He nodded and walked to the window.  Now that they were no longer falling, his aim was true, and Uraraka, who had been inching closer by deactivating then reactivating her quirk, caught the end of the capture weapon easily.  He reeled her in.  

“Izuku!” she said bouncing over to him and hugging him.  “You’re okay!”

“Haha,” said Midoriya, “yep.”

“You let Suzuki fall,” said Aizawa, who had been contemplating much the same thing.  

“I would have done something different,” said Midoriya, “but it wasn’t entirely up to me.  Nana would just drop him again.  It’s a dream, besides.  Worst that will happen is that he’ll wake up and then we can use that to wake you guys up.” He turned away.  “Come on, Six is this way.”

“Six, not seven?”

“Nana’s taking care of,” he waved his hand in the direction of the broken window, “that.”

Uraraka glanced that way.  “I wasn’t sure before, but that’s Skyrunner, isn’t it?  I didn’t think she was still alive.”

“She isn’t,” said Midoriya, shortly, before beginning to stride across the room.  “We really don’t have time to stand around.  Six will explain things better than me.”

“Who’s Skyrunner?” asked Todoroki.

Aizawa kept his eyes on Midoriya.  He seemed distracted, his movements were lower energy than usual, as if his mind was miles away.

“She was a hero ages ago.  She’d be in her eighties, I think, but that was her.  I found her when I was doing research on quirks similar to mine.”

“They aren’t really the same,” said Midoriya.  “Float is an at-will telekinetic type quirk with a personal range.  Yours is a five-point touch physical property alteration quirk.”

“Application-wise,” said Uraraka.  “But how can we be in her head if she’s dead?  You said before, we were in All Might’s head, so…”

“Wait, what?”  How the heck were they supposed to have gotten into Yagi’s head?  Was this something Midoriya’s dreaming subconscious came up with?  Or was there a massive problem about to smack him in the face as soon as he woke up?

More massive than the Hero Commission feeling justified in running a quirk-assisted interrogation on a minor.   A minor who was unconscious and may have been moved to another facility, away from any adults who might be on their side.  

Midoriya had stopped to lean against a doorway, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m not completely here.  I can’t—I’m busy, it’s hard to process.”

“Busy doing what?” asked Todoroki.  

“Being awake,” said Midoriya.

“You’re awake?” repeated Aizawa.

“Halfway.  It’s just—Unexpected quirk interaction.  When I was shot—” He broke off and shuddered.  “Six will be able to explain it better.  I’m on the run, sensei, I’m sorry.”

“You’re awake and on the run from the Hero Commission.”

“Mhm,” said Midoriya.  “Six will explain.  Probably. I haven’t directly met Six yet.”

There were so many concerning things about that statement that Aizawa didn’t know where to start.  Midoriya pushed off the doorway and kept walking.  

“We need a contact point,” he said, “so we can cross over to Six.  I don’t know where they’d be for Nana and Six, though.”

As they walked, the building slowly changed from a generic office space to something that, at least to Aizawa, resembled a hero agency.  An old, dated hero agency.  

“Does this have something to do with ‘first contact?’”

“It doesn’t need to be first contact,” said Midoriya, waving over his shoulder.  “Just contact.  The rules are weird, apparently?  I think they’re different, normally.  I’m not sure where to go…”

“I’ll show you.”

Aizawa was incredibly tired of people showing up out of nowhere. And Nana really had shown up out of nowhere, suddenly materializing in the hallway, not even having the courtesy to step out of a doorway or from around a corner and pretend this world operated on anything approaching hard and fast rules.

“Hey, hey,” said Nana, “you guys are all really tense, aren’t you?”

“You did drop us from fifty stories up.”

“Haha, yeah, I did,” said Nana, grinning and ruffling Midoriya’s hair.  “I’m still dropping that jerkface back there.  Hopefully, he’ll decide to nope out before too long and we can get the rest of you out of here without the whole Journey to the West reenactment.”

Midoriya squinted up at her, listing slightly to one side. “Every time you use slang it’s so weird.”  

“Come on, kid, I’m not that old.”  She sighed.  “I’d give you Float now, but given present circumstances, you’ll probably want Six’s or Two’s.”

Midoriya straightened—And was it just Aizawa or did his outline become clearer?

“You can do that?” he asked.  He brought his hand up to his chin, index finger resting beneath his lower lip.  “It could be possible, depending on the mechanism,” he mumbled.  “But then would getting out be…?  No, it can’t be something like that, or it wouldn’t even be mentioned, and it didn’t work with Suzuki…  But it’s worth testing—Aizawa-sensei, can you use your quirk on Todoroki? Todoroki, think really hard about waking up while you do it.”

They tried this.  Nothing happened, other than Todoroki not being able to use his quirk. Aizawa had the sinking suspicion that this conversation was about Midoriya’s quirk gaining yet another, bizarre manifestation.  Did his quirk have something to do with split personalities?  Loading other peoples’ personalities and quirks into his head?

“It isn’t that, then,” said Midoriya.  “Saito’s quirk could still have a mechanism like that.”

“Or it could be the interaction between your quirk and hers,” said Nana.

Midoriya was silent for a moment.  “I guess,” he said finally.  “But we have to test—”

“We don’t want to overload you.  Like I said, I think you’ll want Six’s or Two’s more than mine.  Or even Four’s.”

Midoriya shook his head.  “No, considering what we’re up against, Float would be very useful.  Can we try?”

Nana nodded, put her hands on his shoulders, and bent at the waist to whisper something in Midoriya’s ear.  The room briefly flickered into sky, a sunset or sunrise throwing brilliant color from horizon to horizon.  The sound of wings presaged a flock of birds.  Aizawa braced for a fall.  Nana stood back up.  The room returned.  “Did you get it?”

Aizawa checked to make sure all of his (shaken) students were still there.

“I think so,” said Midoriya.   He took a deep breath.  “Yes.  I have it.” He looked back at Aizawa.  “I’m sorry, I really have to go, now.”

Aizawa was also getting really tired of people disappearing, he decided.

Nana sighed.  “Anyway, come on, we have to get going.”

They all looked to Aizawa before following.  Aizawa sighed.  They didn’t have any other leads on what to do, and if they didn’t, they might get dragged along anyway.  “Might as well,” he said.  “This had better be a great explanation.  And I’d like it before we get to this ‘Six.’”

“Yes,” said Todoroki.  “Does Midoriya have multiple personality disorder?”

“It’s Dissociative Identity Disorder, and no,” said Nana.  “Not as such.  For now…  We’re part of Nine’s—Izuku’s—quirk.”

“Funnily enough, I had put that together.  Why you?”

“I used to ask myself that, you know.  Six is the one who can answer.  In the meantime… consider this a quirk history field trip.  Here we are.”  They stepped into a conference room, a projector springing to life along with the faint murmur of phantom voices.  “I was just a sidekick back then,” she said.  “Not his, though.  It’s funny. Toshinori was mine, you know. Before his debut.  He didn’t even go by All Might back then.”  The room glitched.  

Aizawa managed to get the impression of a surreal, almost Lovecraftian, landscape, rubble, and the words ‘You’re next.’

Aizawa could have gone his entire life without knowing that All Might had cribbed his last words as a hero from his teacher.  

Nana laughed.  “To be fair,” she said, patting his arm (patting his arm), “he’s not the only one. Come on, I want you four worlds away from Suzuki.  Let’s get this show on the road.”

The lighting in the room shifted, and it filled with ghosts much like in Izuku’s school.  Another, younger, version of Nana sat among them, looking up at the projector.  

The underground hero Fidelity is here today to discuss a possible smuggling ring based out of Musutafu…

As the young man walked in, the whispers arrived… But there seemed to be fewer whisperers.

First contact.  

.

Izuku managed to levitate a centimeter off the ground before settling himself again.  Enough not to be noticed by anyone but Toshinori.  

Toshinori who was close to tears.  Izuku blinked back a few of his own.  

This was good.  With Float and the right planning, they could possibly break their trail even without the more complicated maze-path he and Toshinori had planned out. Some of the words in Trace’s file seemed to indicate her quirk only worked over solid objects, and she didn’t work with the Coast Guard, even though her quirk would, otherwise, be quite useful there.  The conclusion couldn’t be trusted, of course, but if he could manage to stay floating, and get Toshinori to float as well, it would be well worth it.  

He almost laughed at himself.  Mastering a quirk in so little time, worth it.

“If anyone could do it,” said Toshinori, “it would be you, my boy.”

Izuku’s heart filled with warmth as the others agreed. He could almost feel Nana ruffle his hair again.  

.

In theory, the plan to acquire the keys to the testing center’s off-limits areas was very simple.  

In practice…  It was also very simple, shockingly enough.  Maybe it was because the human explosive and the deceptively destructive sunshine child weren’t involved.  No, that couldn’t be it.  

Hitoshi walked up to a security guard, said excuse me, used his quirk, and asked for the keys.  Then he handed them to Yaoyorozu so she could make copies.  She gave the guard back the keys, and Hitoshi told the guard to forget him.  That order didn’t always work, but they weren’t having the guard move, and the whole operation had taken under five minutes.  There wasn’t much to remember in the first place.

“What now?” asked Hitoshi.  

“Now,” said Yaoyorozu, making more copies of keys.  “We get lost.”

.

The benefit to having a blunt and straightforward demeanor was that people rarely thought Tsuyu was lying.  

Well.  The UA uniform helped, too.  Even among heroes, UA was known to take only the best of the best.  The most trustworthy.

“Excuse me, kero,” Tsuyu said, sidling up to a young hero in civilian clothing.  “I was told to tell everyone to go into the back—They want us to spread out, for when the police arrive to question us?  The doors are already unlocked.”  She pointed.  “But our teachers have come to pick us up, and we’re going with them, so can you help?”

“Oh, of course.  That’s what heroes do, right?”  Bubble Girl shot her a pair of finger guns.  “Hey, you’re one of Deku-kun’s friends, right?  This is so weird.  Have you seen the news?”

“Yes, kero.”  

“Sorry, sorry, I know that’s probably not something you want to talk about.  I hope everything works out for him.”

So did Tsuyu.

.

The plan to flood the relatively empty back hallways with people and unleash a dance of chaos the Hero Commission, false warriors of light, could not hope to contain, went… Interestingly, in Fumikage’s opinion.  

There were several different entrances to the back that people were directed to, and, predictably, some of them were turned back, even though they had unlocked the doors.  There were commission people back there, albeit relatively few of them.  

The class slipped in among the others.  He led the way, as the sneakiest person after Hagakure.  Well.  Sort of.

It was hard to figure out who was in the lead with all these people everywhere.  

Plus, he got… Ahem.  

He was swept away on the tide of darkness, with no beacon to guide his way.  

Dark Shadow cackled in his ear.  “Just admit you’re lost, Fumi,” she said.  

“I am not!” he hissed back.

“Besides there are fire escape maps over there.”

Oh, that was helpful.

.

When Chiyo woke up this morning, she had not expected to face the fact that Toshinori had finally lost his mind, and the entirely baseless accusation that Midoriya of all people had kidnapped him (the reverse was much more likely, in her opinion).  And yet.

When Chiyo had been asked to organize and accompany the fleet of ambulances to pick up their unconscious students and staff members (something she had done many times) she had not expected to be point blank refused by the Hero Commission.  And yet.

When Hizashi and Nemuri had asked the fleet to pull around to the back of the testing center, near a loading dock ‘to make room for other traffic,’ she had not expected her coworkers and eleven students to slam up the rolling overhead door of the loading dock and run out at full tilt while carrying ten unconscious bodies.  

And yet.

Maybe, after everything, she should have.  

She grabbed the radio from the dash and started rolling down the window.  “Open the doors!”

The students knew what they were doing, at least with regards to casualty transport.  They should.  They’d passed the licensing test.  Hizashi and Nemuri had better hope this nonsense didn’t get any of those licenses stripped, or, oh, she’d have words with them.

“Hey!” shouted a hero with a prominent commission badge pinned to his costume.  He extended his arm and delicate rays of light shot forth.  He was aiming mostly at Hizashi and Nemuri.  Typical.  One of the rays of light hit Hizashi’s heel, and his shoe turned to stone, causing him to stumble.  

Chiyo calmly stuck the end of her syringe-shaped cane out the window and depressed the well-hidden trigger.  A small sedative filled dart his the hero in the neck, where he was not protected by his costume.  He dropped.

One or two of the students did a double take.  Chiyo rolled her eyes.  

Really.  She was a licensed Pro Hero.  Pros had to be able to act, regardless of how many of their expectations were being subverted.  

The students could stand to learn that.  

.

Large public TV screen at the intersection caught Izuku’s attention, despite how he was keeping his gaze on his feet, the better to monitor his use of Float.  

But, then, Izuku had practically trained himself to notice any screen with All Might on it.  That this one also had his picture on it was just frosting on the cake.  

They’re moving fast.  

Of course they are.  We’re a threat.  

We weren’t!

We’ve always been.  Do you remember—?

They aren’t putting quirk users into concentration camps.

No, just training camps.

Not the time.  We’ll have to deal with the Hawks problem later.

… We were hoping for more time.

“The Hawks problem?” asked Toshinori.

“I have no idea,” said Izuku.  “Come on, we have to keep going.”

.

Trace was very good at what she did, and Hawks was genuinely hoping that she would be the one to find Midoriya and All Might, not him.  He didn’t want to be responsible for what was going to happen to the kid, spy or no. He didn’t want to get on All Might’s bad side, either, retired or not.  

Really.  The commission should have taken the hint when All Might left of his own accord. Hawks didn’t know how he’d found out about the commission’s plan to psychically interrogate Midoriya, but obviously he did.  And he objected.  Strenuously.

It might have been better for him to go public, though, rather than spirit the kid away.  

On the other hand…  It had only been a couple hours at this point.  Maybe he hadn’t had the chance.  Getting the kid out of commission hands might have been his priority, depending on how much he heard.  

What Hawks had heard…  Yeah.  Not great. One guy in particular had seemed overly enthusiastic about Midoriya’s possible rehabilitation.  

He sighed and took off his goggles, so he had a better view of the city below him.  Hawks had lucked out in the color receptor department.  Like most birds, he had four, as opposed to the baseline human three. If anyone could pick out Midoriya’s green mop and All Might’s eye-watering blonde in these crowds, it would be him.  

And if they had changed their appearances?

Well.  Their heights were distinctive enough on their own, especially when paired.  

Hawks genuinely hoped Trace would find them first.  But he wasn’t counting on it.  

Well.  This was far from the worst thing the commission had asked him to do.  

.

Samson and Delilah were a relatively new duo. Samson had a gorilla mutation. Delilah had a ‘conditional status ailment’ quirk that doubled as a boost to herself.  Kind of annoying to activate, though, honestly.  Who else had a quirk that made them eat hair?

Anyway, this was their first assignment from the commission. All they had to do was pick up a potential witness.  

“Or colluder,” said Samson.  

“Come on, have you seen her face?”  Delilah gestured with the photo in her hand.  

“She’s his mother.  Mothers know everything.”

“Your mom, maybe,” said Delilah.  “I think this is it.”  She checked the door number.  Yep.  “You knock.”

Samson’s knock was loud and intimidating.  It got no response.  

“Again?” suggested Delilah.

But no matter how many times Samson knocked, he would get no answer.  Midoriya Inko was not home.  

.

Inko checked the piece of paper with Dr. Tsubasa’s current address on it again.  Hisashi had always told her that if anything happened, and he couldn’t be there, she should go to Dr. Tsubasa.  She never had.  The wound he had given her son when he was five had never completely faded, and she couldn’t help but hate him for that.  

But Hisashi wasn’t picking up his phone, and this, this was bigger than she could hope to deal with.  

Dr. Tsubasa had better be able to.  Or else.  

(Inko did not know if the ‘or else’ was for herself, Izuku, Hisashi, or Dr. Tsubasa himself, but it was most certainly there.)

(Incidentally, Hisashi was going to get a lot of ‘else’ from her regardless, for not picking up his phone.)

.

Once, when he was young and stupid, Tomura had thought of life as a single-player game.  First person. A shooter, maybe.  First person RPG.  

Before he’d turned twenty, though, he’d realized that to get anywhere, he’d need a party.  Obviously, he was still the only player, other than Sensei, and Sensei didn’t count.  Sensei was different.  Everyone else was NPCs.  Interesting ones, maybe.  But just look at Twice!  He could turn everyone into infinitely respawning mobs.  As things were meant to be.  

But the USJ, Hosu, and everything that happened that summer had taught him better.  This was a co-op, and when someone got a permanent game over, when they were logged off forever… It made something burn inside him because those were his party members.  

He’d found Magne annoying.  But when she declared herself everyone’s big sis…

Even so, he’d hung on to the notion that they were fighting the CPU.  No intelligence on the other side.  Just violence, power, and an assortment of unfair, programmed-in cheat codes.  

This, too, was a false impression of the world.  This revelation hadn’t come as quickly as the last. In fact, if he were to be honest with himself (a despicable practice) he’d have to admit the realization had been building, percolating, since the USJ.  It was something he’d acknowledged, even, although he hadn’t realized it at the time.  

This game had a Player 2.  And the noob had just finished the tutorial.  

He smiled wide enough to make his lips crack and sting in the dusty air of the current hideout.  The pinging news alerts on his phone faded into the background as he made his plans.  

Tomura was supposed to be following the main questline, gathering party members, and powering up, but what was multiplayer without griefing?  What was an open sandbox without distractions?

“Hey, guys,” said Tomura, lazily, not even looking over his shoulder.  “You up for a side quest?”

[himalayansnowleopard]

Time and you

They say time is continuous and never ending, always moving forward. Scientists swear till their dying breath that time is continuous; it doesn't stop. But I swear, till my dying breath, that time slows down like liquid honey, languidly dripping down the side of the jar. I swear that time stops every time I look into your deep eyes, how are your eyes so all consuming? Time stops and bows down before you, it pauses in its constant movement to admire you. Time freezes and can't help but be moved in a way it never has been by you, just you. Time stops and scientists flip out but time stops every time I look at you.

Physicists know that gravity exists. Every little kid who has fallen and gotten a boo boo understands this and the whole world freaking knows about gravity. Women curse it when their weight is not agreeable and men groan from underneath that damn heavy man who has ceremoniously pinned him to the unforgiving ground. There are laws and proofs that prove gravity exists. It's a given fact that what goes up must come down and that things fall down, the sky is up and the ground is below us. Gravity pulls us into the ground and doesn't allow us to fly into the sky. But every time we touch, even for a brief moment, gravity ceases to exist and I feel like I'm floating. Gravity suddenly pulls me up high into the clouds, higher and higher until I'm soaring in the atmosphere. Every time we hug the sky is no longer above my head but below my feet and the ground is strangely above my head. Every time we kiss the world stops spinning and it feels still, so quiet and silent that even our heartbeats sound like thunder. Gravity no longer pulls me down but to you, wherever you are. Science shows that gravity exists and that it pulls things into the core of the earth but none of that matters when our hands brush because I'm quickly pulled into the core of your being. Gravity bends around you and pulls me helplessly into your embrace, not that I'd ever resist its pull.

Chefs say if you can't take the heat get out of the kitchen. Pans steam and pots boil, ovens bake at insane temperatures and chefs perspire. Chefs know better than anybody that fire is hot, that fire burns and hurts. Firemen too understand the risk and danger that a flame presents, how wild and untamable it truly is. Fire is hot and unruly; fire hurts people and leaves everlasting marks. People are scared to be burned. Yet, every word out of your mouth burns my soul and imprints itself into my mind. It should hurt but it doesn't, every lasting scar you leave on me doesn't hurt as it should. Every time you sigh, hot flames fan across my soul and caress my spirit. But the fire doesn’t burn; it doesn't hurt. Fire is supposed to hurt people, it's supposed to inflict damage but the feeling you give me, and the feeling of being set on fire doesn't hurt. You make me feel everything; you set my soul on fire and light my neurons up. The fire doesn’t burn me and your warmth only comforts me. When I'm with you my whole body feel alit with flames and hot magma courses through my veins, you make me feel this way.

You're a force of nature, unstoppable and sometimes you seem untouchable. You're so bright and burning, so fierce and strong that you feel eons away from me. You're you, you've found yourself and you know yourself. What scares others doesn't even faze you, life has taught you early on how to deal with hardships and that's left you a bit rough around the edges. You're a lion, a shark, and the strongest most terrifying animal on the planet. But I know you, I really know you. You're soft just like a kitten and sensitive. Beneath your hard exterior you're broken and a mess, such a beautiful mess. But you're functioning and you know your demons, intimately. You're a walking contradiction and I often find myself tongue tied when trying to describe you, because how can you describe something as wholly wonderful but terribly broken as you? How can you describe the pure goodness that radiates from your soul but the darkness that seems to stream from your thoughts? You can't I've found. So to me, you're indescribable. You need to be experienced; you are an experience. Maybe that's why I fell so tragically deep into you, so entangled into you that I couldn't even separate us anymore. I think that's why my love is so vast and strong because you are so vast and strong.

Love does strange things to us, turns us into strange creatures and makes us fools. Love plays games with our hearts and toys with our feelings. Love is a bitch. Love is beautiful and kind. Love is hurtful and is only tragedy masked with a pretty face. But love makes life worth it; you make life worth living. You made me live life and not merely exist, I no longer float through my days a wandering soul. I now live life. You are love, everything it is and everything is will do to me; you are it. When the day comes that love breaks my heart and the pain crashes upon me your face will be the one I anchor myself too. Even after you are gone or have left, your voice will be the one I hear and long for. And when you are out there accomplishing things people only dream of and have to leave me behind, our memories will be the haven I seek. Because you are love and life, you make everything worth it. Every single ache I will feel, every tear I will cry, and every time my heart will break; you are worth it all. You are worth more than life itself. Time slows to catch a glimpse of you, gravity reverses itself just to get closer to you, and fire loses its burning pain in your presence. You are love and life, the beginning of my life and the end and everything in between. You are simply beyond words. But I will still say them, I love you.

[nightingale101]

Don’t take the money.

So slowly writing chapter 2, i figure i might as well post the first chapter here.

~~~

Somebody broke me once, Love was a currency A shimmering balance act, I think that I laughed at that And I saw your face and hands, Coloured in sun and then I think I understand

~~**~~

This was different. Those other times, love had burnt like an uncontrollable fire, consuming everything and everyone in its path and burning itself out in the process. It was all consuming, a fire they had lit under his skin that turned everything it touched to ash and ruin. But with V… with V it was different. It was…. Warmth

One

Sweet Disposition.

 A moment, a love

A dream, a laugh

A kiss, a cry

Our rights, our wrongs

   “I don’t understand. They- Grayson said - at the oil fields”

 “he either lied or wasn’t high enough up the Chain to be in the know.”

 “But I-“

 “Focus, We have to move. Reinforcements are probably on their way here as we speak.”

 “I know- I just.”

 “It’s alright, we can figure this out. Together, as a family.”

 “yeah. Ok... one thing at a t- oh shit, that alarm. Fuck”

 “We have to move. Now. Do you think you can help me carry him, V?”

 The voices came to him from far, far away, a lifetime away it felt like. filtering in through the inky blackness he currently found himself drifting in. afloat, lost, confused.

 He didn’t know them. At least he didn’t think he knew them, he couldn’t remember. Well, he really couldn’t remember much of anything right know. He wasn’t even sure he knew himself. He wasn’t even sure what his name was. Where was he… How did he get here… why was he here... why couldn’t he remember?

 V… was that a name...? Was that his name? No… No he didn’t think so, but it was confusing. He knew V… He was sure of that. He wanted to… save them.

 ~~**~~

 He didn’t know how long he’d been there. floating in the dark, it seemed timeless. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours, it could have been a year as far as he could tell. He wasn’t sure where he was, or why, or how he got there. But he remembered his name now.

 Johnny.

 ~~**~~

 The voices still floated to him though the darkness. Not as clear as the first time, but he caught the occasional word through the muffled haze that seemed to surround him.  

 Plan. Silverhand. Night City. Dying. Border. Wake up. V. Bleeding. Badlands. Lucky. Wake up. Please.

 There were more than the first two voices now, although he couldn’t tell exactly how many. Some of them seemed to blend together and he couldn’t distinguish one voice from the other. He heard the first voice, the voice he now could recognize as V, the most often. She often talks to him alone, or at least he doesn’t hear anyone else while she’s around. He wonders if this means he saved her. If he could just remember what happened.

 ~~**~~

 He knows who he now. He is Johnny Silverhand. Deserter. Rockerboy. Terrorist. All round bastard.

 He remembers all of it. Alt. Arisaka tower. Rouge. Smasher. And V. God he remembers V. A pang of guilt clutches around his heart when he thinks of her. That’s new he thinks. He hadn’t really felt guilty about something before. Everything was inconsequential to him before, someone else’s problem.

 He remembers It felt like torture to him. Watching her slowly get worse, her body and mind slowly being taken over by him, with nothing he could do about it. He remembers when he stopped the elevator, taking control of her arm to push the button, the fear in her voice. And he remembers his own fear, when she’d passed out, and he couldn’t reach her, no matter how hard he tired. But, he could still hear her voice… she was talking to him, wherever he was. Which means she was alive, right? He’d… Gone with Alt? is this what being a part of her was like? This… nothingness... but something. And still being able to here V.

 He doesn’t remember anything after speaking with V in Cyberspace. Seeing her red digital form, arguing with him of all things. She didn’t want him to leave, wanted to find a way for them both to live. One moment they were talking… and then he was here. Nowhere.

 ~~**~~

 He was starting to feel things again. and everything… Hurt. There was pain firing in all his nerves all over his body. His head was throbbing, sharp pain spikes were running down his back and adding to the dull ache in his legs…. His... legs...? Was this phantom pain from his non-existent body? Like what he had felt when he first lost his arm. Was he feeling the injuries that his body would have sustained from that last fight at the tower...? Or- no. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea that he actually had a body again. Because that would mean V... was... and he didn’t want to think about that. As long as she was alive, it was all worth it. He’d given his life for hers, and he couldn’t think of better thing to lay down his life for.

 ~~**~~

He’s… confused. He has a body, he’s pretty sure of that, can feel jolts of pain running down his spine, way to vivid to be phantom pains. But he hears V talking… wherever he, they, are, she’s here, and talking to Panam. He tries to pay attention to their convocation.

 “… signs of improvement.” Panam was saying. “but no guarantees, V.”

 He thinks they’re talking about him. Whatever is going on, he thinks he’s getting better too. He didn’t feel like he was floating anymore. He felt anchored. Secure. Still in darkness, but he didn’t feel like he was floating endlessly. He was more aware of his body; of the pain he was feeling. Or whoever’s body he was in, because as far as he knew his body was a skeleton and some rusted metal buried under the oil fields.

 “I know…” came V’s voice, she let out a sigh. “One day at a time, right?”

 V sounded exhausted. She sounded like she did when he’d taken her to the Pistis Sophia, after she’d woken up, a pain in her chest and barely being able to walk. Like she was running on empty, holding on by a thread that was threatening to snap at any moment and send her plummeting to the ground.

 “Right. And anyway. We should talk about you.” Panam said.

 “one thing at a time, Panam.” V responded, “Besides, there’s not a lot to talk about on that front anyway. Mitch is still chasing down his old contacts, isn’t he?”

 “Yes, but that’s not really what I meant.” Panam continued. “I meant, how are you doing? I know you haven’t been sleeping and-“

 “Time is short… Sleeping seems like a waste.”

 “If you don’t sleep, you’ll burn out so much faster. You-“

 The conversation faded to the background as his thoughts sawm around his head. V. It was odd not knowing exactly how she was feeling, what was going through her head. When he was in her mind, her thoughts and feelings flowed into him, and he could reassure her without even speaking, steel her nerves, calm her racing heart. He wanted to reach her now. He wanted to reassure her. He wanted to speak to her…

 “…V” His voice was so small he thought as the blackness surrounded him, not his intention at all.

 “Johnny!?” he heard V say, her voice full of concern but also hopfullness, and then the nothingness came once again.

 ~~**~~

 When Johnny Silverhand woke up it was sunrise, the pale orange light stung the edges of his vision. His eyelids were heavy, like he hadn’t opened them for so long that they resisted the unfamiliar movement.  It took an enormous effort to even open them at all, and even more effort to try and keep them open. His whole body ached. Every inch. From his legs to his head. From dull aches, to sharp jolts, he felt it all. Even moving his eyes too look around like it hurt.

 He was in a tent. He recognized it as an Aldecaldo tent, like the one V had awoken in after she’d passed out in front of Panam. He was vaguely aware of frantic voices around him, but he was more focused on breathing, the ache in his chest as his lungs rose and fell. The fact that he was even breathing at all.

 And then she was there.

 “V…” His voice was hoarse, and his throat felt like it had been fucked by a sandpaper covered dick. But it was worth it, her face lit up with a smile the second he spoke.

 “Johnny… Oh my god.” She sounded so relieved, he heard her dragging something to his side and she sat down next to him. With the most effort he’d ever needed to do anything, he turned his head slightly to look at her. His neck protested, loudly.

 “I don’t…” it was taking all his effort to stay awake. He felt Vs hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance.

 “It’s okay.” She said softly, as he was rapidly losing the fight with his eyelids.  “just rest… we can talk later”

 ~~**~~

 The next time Johnny woke up he felt marginally better, as in he didn’t feel like he had been runover by semi-truck, just a minivan. He wasn’t sure what time it was, sometime at night he thought, Judging from the lack of light in the tent. When he turned his head slightly, he could make out a person sleeping, or at the very least laying down, on a cot opposite him.

 He moved his hand to reach out to them, not entirely sure why, but just knowing he wanted to. With a protest of pain that shot out from his wrist, up his arm, and down his spine; his hand slid off the cot and thumped onto the floor. It felt like trying to move a waterlogged post, slow and impossibly heavy. He almost imdently wanted to bring his arm back up onto the bed, to a more comfortable position, but quickly decide that was way more effort that he was willing to put in right at this moment and would probably make him pass out again. He settled on moving his fingers, enjoying the feeling of his nails scraping though the carpet, or mat, or… whatever was on the floor of the tent, he couldn’t be bothered looking. He became aware that he couldn’t move his other hand, or his other arm in general. His arm that in his original body would have been his cybernetic arm. He hated that feeling. He let out a sigh.

 He saw the person on the other cot stir and begin to sit up, it was V.

 “Johnny.”

 “Hey... V.” he croaked out. She stood and walked over to him, taking a seat by his side again. “I ...” he began, but wasn’t sure how to finished that sentence, or even what he wanted to say. she reached for something next to him, a bottle of water. She placed a straw in it and brought the other end to his lips. He drank. It made throat feel significantly better. When he was done, she put the bottle back down, somewhere just beyond his sight.

 “Its okay.” She picked up his arm and placed it back on the bed, resting it across his chest. “first off, how are you feeling?”

 “Fucking preem.” He said, throat still protesting slightly, “Apart from the fact that I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck or ten”

 “Yeah, I figured...” V responded, her eyes looking over his body, as if she could see the pain. It was quite for a moment.

 “V…” He said softly, breaking thought the quiet, she looked at him. “What the fuck happened… I don’t... I don’t remember”

 She let out a sigh and looked up at a ceiling. He could see her eyes dart back and forth as she got her thoughts in order. The last time he’d seen her do this, they were on the roof above Mistys, making one last choice, and he was feeling sick to his stomach. But at this moment, it felt like a lifetime ago. Maybe it was. “Johnny, what’s the last thing you remember.”

 “talking to you… inside Mikoshi and then… Nothing.” His voice came out more of a hushed whisper than he would have liked.

 “okay… its… right.” She began.  She slapped her hands down on her lap, he wasn’t sure why, maybe to psych herself up. “so, while we were talking in Mikoshi, before we came to a decision, Alt appeared. Do you remember?

 He shook his head slightly. He knew he’d already came to a decision; he would die so she could live. It was V who was still wrestling with the choice. V continued. “She said there was an anomaly. Something that she didn’t account for, and then you disappeared. Just… Blinked out of existence right before my eyes.”

 She paused to take a shaky breath.

  “She then told me a location inside Arasaka Tower to go to, close to where we were, If I chose to go back to my body... which I obviously I did... and in that room was the anomaly. In that room was you.” She looked at Johnny. “Your body.”

 He swallowed. “I don’t understand…. Grayson said…”

 “He lied” V said. “Or he just genuinely didn’t know. But this” she placed her hand on his chest, right above his heart. “This is you. Not a clone, or a replica. You.”

 He let that sink in for a moment. He’d known that he was in a body. He just hadn’t thought it had been his body. At least it was slightly less concerning that he couldn’t move his left arm now. The prosthetic must have been damaged. “...How?”

 “Cryogenically frozen.” V said. “honestly, lucky you still have all of your fingers and toes. Cryo freezing’s a crapshoot even these days, I couldn’t imagine how it was back then.”

 Lucky to even be alive, he thought, from what little he knew about the Cryo technology from 2023, but leave it to Arasaka to have the top tier technology squirreled away in their basement. “so, is that why I feel like I’ve been run over?”

 “Maybe partially.” V said. “but, near as I could tell... they froze your body right after they used soul killer on you. So all your injures from the tower, they’re still fresh.”

 Oh. That made more sense now. He did fall out of a helicopter, and get his ass handed to him by Smasher. “so... Alt just uploaded my mind back into my body? And I was good to go.”

 V smiled at him, a sad smile. He decided he didn’t like it. “not exactly… Johnny when I got to you, you were dead. You had no pulse, you weren’t breathing. Me and Panam just barely managed to get you back. We didn’t know if you were going to wake up…. I didn’t…. you scared the hell out of me.”

 “It’s payback…” He said. She was upset, and he hated that it was because of him. Her hand was still on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Despite the protests from his arm, he moved to place his hand over the top of hers, letting his fingers come to rest between hers. “For when I thought...”

 “its not funny Johnny.” She sounded annoyed, but she didn’t move her hand.  “You’ve been in a coma for nearly a month.”

 A month his mind echoed. He could feel himself slowly slipping back into unconsciousness, but he was suddenly aware of the implication of sleeping for a month. The moment V’s mind was placed back in her body, she was a ticking time bomb, and the clock was set for six months. And now that was down to five. She didn’t deserve that. His chest ached as guilt wrapped itself around his heart.

 They were quiet. His hand was still over hers, their fingers interlaced. She had begun to move thumb, gently and slowly stroking the side of his palm. He in turn began to move his thumb, caressing the back of her hand. Her hands were so much smaller than his and they seemed much more delicate, but he knew they could be just as deadly as his own if she needed them to be. He wanted to ask more questions, but more than that he didn’t want this moment to end, just being able to touch her- actually touch her. And just enjoying this. This unspoken thing between them.

 He was in love with her. He’d been aware that for a while now, although he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it started. He thinks it might have started bubbling in his chest around the time he took her to the Pistis Sophia, when he’d committed to saving her.

 He’d been in love before, he knows that. Alt. Rouge. And even Kerry at some points. But this… This was different. Those other times, love had burnt like an uncontrollable fire, consuming everything and everyone in its path and burning itself out in the process. It was all consuming, a fire they had lit under his skin that turned everything it touched to ash and ruin. But with V… with V it was different.  It was…. Warmth. Like a fire you had built to keep the winter chill at bay. it surrounded you with its warmth and comfort so that whatever storm you were taking shelter from, didn’t matter.  It still burned with ferocity, like all fires did, but it didn’t feel like it would consume him and everything thing in its path. It felt... safe… like he needed this fire to survive, and not like he need to survive this fire.

 He wanted to tell her, but as the thought crossed his mind, he felt his grasp on consciousness slip. “V…”

 “You should rest..” She said, she had the softest smile on her face. “Its late. And we’ll have all the time in the world to talk when you’re stronger.”

 He thought that sentiment was laughable, as his eyes slowly fell shut against his will. He’d always been weak.