#that or i just got sick there and it's manifesting purely as stomach problems

[vamptastic]

the kosher hotdogs have betrayed me

[cyanomys]

The Misery Loop

I have a potentially unpopular take. Disclaimer: IANAD, I'm just a person with moderately severe chronic illness and an entirely useless psych degree.

Part of the burden of every illness is psychological. The way you think about your illness, your pain, your agency, and yourself all has an impact on how you feel physically, and even sometimes what is happening inside you biochemically. Always. This is actually true for every single sick person out there, unless they are literally comatose -- because everything you experience has to pass through your brain, which is where you have thoughts and feelings and psychology. This is even true for people who have illnesses we think of as "purely" biological, like a broken leg, or stomach cancer.

But vise versa, how you feel physically (and what is happening to you biochemically) has an impact on your psychology, too. This is because your brain is actually just 3 pounds of meat in your head, just like the other roughly 177 lbs of meat that makes up the rest of you. So your emotions and thoughts, which you think of as entirely within your control (or at least entirely in your head), are actually also moving at the whims of your gut biome or bad joints or whatever. Unfortunately.

People living with chronic illness and chronic pain can be really, really resistant to and defensive against the idea that any part of their illness is psychological. I have been one of these people. This feeling is pretty reasonable, because doctors and family members have used "it's all in your head" as an excuse to refuse us the treatments, accommodations, mobility aids, disability payments, or even just common decency that we need for the biological reality of our illness.

But staying blind to the psychological aspects of our illness shuts us off from knowledge that could help us suffer less. It's impossible to think or will or manifest yourself out of any illness (even psychiatric illness), like ableist people might imagine. However it is possible to learn about how your body and mind interact, and practice thinking in a way that will not increase your suffering.

When I've been at my sickest and most miserable, I always got stuck in a self-reinforcing thought loop about it, which I call The Misery Loop. The loop is never the cause of my illness, but it always makes me more miserable and I genuinely believe it elongates the flare. It goes like this:

Physical pain or misery -> mental anguish and feeling helpless -> physical misery heightened because of the mental misery -> avoiding a lot of things to try to be less miserable -> having no distraction and thinking about the misery more, or avoiding doing stuff that would over time make me feel better -> more misery -> repeat.

I never really saw this cycle clearly until I worked at a physical therapy clinic. Even though I just worked the front desk, I talked to many patients, saw their medical records, and learned from the PTs. For many chronic illness patients, like 60% of the effectiveness of PT was just giving them hope, a feeling of agency, and and human connection. This kicked them out of the Misery Loop enough that they could start feeling better, and benefit from that other 40% of physical exercise.

For the chronic illness patients that didn't respond to PT, sometimes the problem was that they needed some other therapy first to make it viable (like medication) -- but a lot of the time the problem was in the "avoiding things that would over time make [them] feel better" part of the Misery Loop. They were so hypervigilant about not increasing The Misery that they were unable to do the PT that would potentially help in the long run.

And can you blame them? The Misery is really horrible. If they weren't in a chronic pain/illness context, all of this would probably be good and protective right? So this is probably just how the brain is designed to keep them alive but it doesn't understand what to do with long term misery.

And by "they" I mean "I". I was literally working at a PT office, receiving free PT, and struggling with this exact problem. I said I saw the cycle while I worked there. But I was so resistant to the idea that any of this was "in my head" that I was always really anxious and full of cognitive dissonance about what I observed and my own inability to do the exercises. I didn't finish fully unpicking the emotional mess I felt about this until like this week. And it took a lot of journaling.

How do you get out of the Misery Loop? Idk all the answers man, I'm new at this. Just paying attention to how my thoughts and body react to each other is helping me catch when they're in the cycle. Distracting myself instead of dwelling on the Misery helps, or telling my brain when it tries to say "ugh my head hurts" for the 50th time to "shut up, I am fucking AWARE that our head hurts." Acceptance (in the "accepting what I can't change" sense, not the "giving up" sense) also seems to help stave off the Misery Loop.

And I've been keeping a careful health journal but trying to remember to frame what I learn as "this is what I CAN do" instead of "this is what I can't do". Which maybe sounds pollyanna, but it works. Instead of constantly searching for what makes me worse so that I can avoid it, I can search for new things (or old things in new ways) that are tolerable. Instead of my world getting smaller and smaller, it gets bigger and bigger, a teeny tiny bit at a time. I'm going to talk to my therapist about this more soon too, once we get done with the main part of OCD therapy.

Realizing all this makes me extremely angry actually. This is one more avenue that bad doctors and shitty family and medical trauma took from me, for many many years. If "it's all in your head" hadn't been weaponized against me, I think I would have naturally come to believe I had some control over my thoughts about my illness. And I would have been less miserable. But I was clutching desperately onto the thought that "this must be 1000% out of my control in every way" because I had been beaten into believing that otherwise I didn't deserve treatment -- which actually took my agency away and made me more likely to enter the Misery Loop. Fuck ableism.

Not to mention the ableist idea at the core of the whole "all in your head" garbage -- that things in your head are under your control, and therefore moral failings.

When googling around my Misery Loop sounds a lot like the "Pain-Thought-Pain Cycle". Plus there's something very Buddhist about the whole "don't add to your suffering with mental suffering" angle. Considering that I've been wading around in the waters of psychology (as both a patient and a student) and secular buddhism for a while I probably picked it up from there. I think "Misery Loop" is way more catchy though. And sometimes, you have to simmer something around in your brain soup for a while, and then pour it back out as something new, in order to make sense of it.

I have a very unscientifically validated theory that different people (even at different times in their lives) have a different amount that the misery loop contributes to their suffering. So like, one person might be 90% misery loop and 10% literal something-mechanically-wrong-in-body, while another person might be 90% something-mechanically-wrong-in-body and 10% misery loop. That's probably why some people are like "Therapy cured my chronic pain!" or whatever, whereas some people find a medication that cures them.

I imagine that for the vast majority of us, it is an inconveniently sticky mixture of the two in closer proportion. It is cruelly ironic, but it is much more difficult to figure out your Misery Loop (and Misery Trauma) when you're also dealing with The Misery. Falling into the Misery Loop is a perfectly valid thing to do, and you shouldn't beat yourself up for it. I will probably do it again myself. Hell, I'll probably do it tomorrow.

But maybe eventually we can claw ourselves out, inch by inch, thought by thought. And suffer a little less than we would otherwise.

[wired-for-weird]

Kink rating: Bodily fluids lightning round!

1. Saliva

2. Semen

3. Urine

4. Vomit

5. Sweat

6. Other?

LIGHTNING ROUND YOU SAY this is gonna take me 20 minutes to answer i Know it. Dividing these up into irl and fantasy bc my brain has a real problem with the Smells and the Textures.

Saliva

fantasy: Oh god you don’t even know

give me drool give me tongue massages give me creatures salivating at the scent and taste of their partners its so good give me All Of It

irl: I guess

my brain is a traitor. i'll be having a fucking fantastic time right up to the point where the Slime becomes too much. Also my partner thinks it's funny to lightly blow air over the wet skin and make me Yell (ey are right. it is objectively funny. but that is Besides The Point)

Semen

fantasy: Sure | Yes

sure, lay it on me. big fan of the idea of it being hot so you can feel it inside you, BIG big fan of it leaving a visible swell in someone's stomach. Drooling pre is up there with saliva actually, now I think about it, like a visible manifestation of that anticipatory ache. even in more realistic scenarios I think it's pretty hot overall.

irl: I dunno

I don't actually have any irl sexual experience with anyone with a dick. my guess is that it'd be the same with saliva- I'd be into it right up to the point I'm Not.

Urine

Fantasy and irl: No

look, I actually kinda get this one? from a dominance standpoint I can see how it'd work as a humiliation thing and an animalistic marking of someone as yours. and from a pure sensory perspective I can see how those wires would cross. the number of times I've gone 'ugh im so antsy and horny why is tha- oh wait i just need to pee' is ridiculous. but personally it's very much not a thing I like.

Vomit

fantasy: Yes

not the vomit itself, but like... the act of throwing up honestly kinda fascinates me? the involuntary, full-body convulsion, rolling from gut to throat, forcing out whatever is in there. I especially like it if it's a reaction to instincts racing ahead of an incomplete transformation- giving in to the ecstasy of bloodlust, gorging on blood or life or meat, then being horrified by what you've done and trying to purge it, or just your body not being capable of digesting what you've forced on it yet- idk there's nothing else really like it

irl: No

Smells bad, feels worse, tastes awful. Ever got sick stuck in your nose? Gag. Nausea is also the worst feeling and I don't deal with it at all well.

Sweat

Fantasy and irl: I guess

True neutral on this one. In fantasy it can add a nice bit of verisimillitude, but in either case I don't enjoy or dislike it for its own sake.

Other?

Hmmmm. Fecal matter is an extreme hard no. That one I geninely don't get, despite my attempts to wrap my brain around it. Blood is a no irl just because it's usually a sign something is wrong, but a big big oh god you don't even know in fantasy. And vaginal slick is a big yes in both cases- it feels great and I love the idea of it having transformative properties in fantasy. Could do without the squishy noises though.

[kylosgenesis]

Teardrops on Fire

Synopsis:

Steve Rogers is the last Alpha of the an almost extinct Lycan pack. With only less than 100 members left. Steve must produce an heir to ensure the species survival and reduce the chance of attacks from others. Omegas are rare, and betas have a hard time producing children. Steves reality is finally setting in as his obligation of producing an heir faces a major set back.

Reader is the last suitable omega to mate with Steve, due to the fear of her daughters fate in the pack, her mother kept her hidden from the pack after her own exile. Only her mother, and Bucky's family know of her existence. Bucky is Steve's right hand man, and the packs best warrior! He and the reader developed a friendship and bond over the years, but age forced them to become distant.

What happens when she presents and her first heat cycle comes? Her body is in excruciating pain and a strong fever quickly overcomes her body. Facing the fear of her daughters possible death, her mom calls on the only person who can save her at this point, Alpha Steve! Bucky and the alphas friendship will be tested. The reader will be faced with her love for Bucky or her duty to the pack.

Chapter warnings : descriptions of death, abuse, blood, and mentions of miscarriage.

Chapter 2: Honey I tried

“When did it start?” Bucky was holding on to the edge of his kitchen table.He felt nauseated with the thought of her, sick and yearning, He couldn't even picture what she had grown up to look like, A part of him was scared of his own emotions.

“It hasn’t yet!”

“ At least not as of this morning.” her mother was breaking apart! Bucky could tell she was very scared and exhausted! He knew that her daughter's well being must've weighed heavily on her, he could see the physical manifestation of her pain. In just a few hours her nails had been bit to the core, and her tears streaks had left vivid and raw tracks around her cheeks.

“Buck! I know this is a lot to ask, but you have to tell Steve! Were worried she wouldn't make it otherwise. This will be her first heat”

He’d almost forgotten his mothers presence in the room, cause he turned around and met her eyes, tears streaming down her face. She'd grown fond of her friend's daughter over the years. After her own kids had left to form their own lives, she could still go to her and relive some memories of her little ones' younger days.

“I know! I'm still wrapping my head around it, but I know what I have to do” agitation surrounded his voice. He didn't know when his heart started to feel like it wanted to jump out of his chest or when he gripped the glass of water that was left on the table so hard it shattered, but it was evident that he wasn't going to be getting any rest that day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky parked his pickup in front of Steve's house. It was the largest house in the village, it wasn't Steve's choice, but he'd inherited it from his father, and his father had inherited it from his father before him. Being the house farthest away from the city limits, but right in the middle of the village meant Steve was protected, but could also be easily accessed.

Looking back at his passenger seat he saw Winnifred with her mom cradled upon her shoulder, comforting her best friend through the probably the second hardest day of her life.

“You should stay here Ma, I'll go get Steve” I know he’ll be happy to see you, but I still don't know how he'll react to her'' He opened his tool box on the bed of his truck and pulled out a large fleece blanket. Neatly folded he handed it over to his mother.

“Just keep her company till I come back”

The lights in Steve's house were on, but Buck could hear the sound of wood being shopped and Steve's grunts coming from the back of the property. As he reached his best friend's view, he took a deep breath. It was all gonna be different now, for all of them.

Steve had a large pair of headphones in, and was clearly a few songs deep into his playlist because when Bucky came around the corner; Steve almost lost a hold of the axe he was holding! Lookin at Buck he lowered his bulky headphones and stabbed the axe to the soft moody ground next to the small uncut piece of wood he was about to turn into lumber.

Steve's hair was not as long as Bucky's, and he had taken a liking to a neatly kept beard.

He grew it out as a joke at first! Clint dared him to grow it for a month, and after a month he'd grown fond of the style.So for the past year now, Steve looked less like a young soldier, and more like those lumberjacks from the cheesy romance novel covers his sister Rebecca loved to read.

“Hey Buck, didn't expect you around so late” Steve combed his hair back with his fingers. A nervous habit Bucky had noticed since childhood, especially when he had a lot on his mind.

“Couldn't sleep?”

Bucky was concerned for his friend, momentarily forgetting the reason for his sudden visit.

“ Banner called! Wanda was there earlier today, she wasn't feeling well. Turns out she was pregnant, and didn't know it!

“Steves that's awesome, when is she due ? we need to celebra…” as he looked into his best friend's eyes he saw the pain behind his look.

“She was miscarrying at the same time she found out she was pregnant, Buck. That's the third pup we've lost this year.I don't know how we're gonna get through this, It's getting harder and harder to keep everyone safe, and pretend we're not gonna be extinct in 50 years”

“Steve…” Steve's gaze was filled with a mixture of tears and rage. He took everyone's pain personally. And hearing about Wanda had awoken an unease within his soul. He couldn't fight the problem! How could a man used to protecting and fighting, deal with a problem that didn't require a fight?

“There’s an omega! She presented this morning!

“Who is she?”

“Remember Katerina? She … uhh … after she was exiled from the pack, she had a daughter!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 20 years ago

“We can't just let him die! We have to take him outside the walls! Someone out there can help him”

Joseph was the second in command to Benjamin Rogers. Two of the strongest alphas the entire western district had ever known. Both feared together, but explosive apart.

Benjamin had fathered a son 7 years earlier, a frail boy. He was often sickly and his future wasn’t promised! He wasn't meant to live much longer, the boy had once again woken up sick. A high fever overcoming his small body.

Benjamin had changed after his wife's death, he blamed the boy for Sarah’s death. A man that was once kind, and dedicated to his family, now lived like a wandering dark shadow inflicting cruelty against anyone that disagreed and crossed his path. His pack was strong! But there was no harmony, only fear.

Sarah had been a beautiful alpha as well as Benjamin. She had a hard time carrying Steve to term, at 7 months she fell bedridden and two weeks later, she had a seizure that compromised her pregnancy. Benjamin himself had to cut the boy out of his dying wife. That choice, as his wife laid there lifeless , covered in blood, and cut open like an animal awoke a demon in Benjamin. He saw death in his son's eyes, that is why he could never love him. He could never care!

Katerina took care of his young baby like her own, she had struggled to have a baby of her own so when Joseph came home holding a still bloody wailing baby, she fell madly in love with the small bundle in his arms.

The boy was small, but smart! He picked up words as young as a few months, and as a toddler he was incredibly gifted. Steve excelled in art, and even knees bit of music. Katerina loved to sit down and play piano! A young Steve would lean into her side and follow suit to her fingers on the side of the pano with his small hands. Joseph and Katerina watched him grow up, and took care of him.

Steve got sick often, but nothing too serious!

One day as she prepared breakfast she had a feeling of dread on the pit of her stomach, she ran upstairs to check on Steve and found him comatose on the bed!she wailed as she held her adopted infant son to her chest. Joseph came running to her after hearing her screams. He picked up the boy from her hands and loaded him into the car, with Katerina at his side he headed to Benjamin's house.

That was the first time Benjamin had seen his son since his wife died, his son himself nearly dead!

"Please Ben! He needs help! There's another pack two hours away, they have a doctor that can help him. She can heal him for good, please open up the walls so we can go to her! They both pleaded with Ben for hours, but to no avail!

The man was already covered in anger and reeking of alcohol, “Don't you dare challenge your alpha Joe! If I find out you defied me and left this territory you will never be allowed back”

Katerina couldn't let her boy die! With that warning in heart, she and her husband plotted to get little Stevie outside the pack territory, and to that doctor.

Behind Ben’s back, and knowing the consequences in his heart Joe called the Alpha from the neighboring pack, the other alpha had the resources ready for them to arrive in the morning. His doctor, a witch, was ready to give little Steve the life he deserved.

In the early morning of the night they sped their way through the woods. Once they reached the border a car awaited Rina, a beta from the fury pack was ready to take them to their pack.

Ben had closed the pack off to treaties when his wife died, he believed the world was dangerous and the pack was better off without interruptions, he couldn't even save his wife! His pack did not deserve to be mercied, they didn't deserve to live if she couldn't. So Ben slowly watched his pack become secluded and lost.

In the morning Ben, even drunker than the night before, had shown up at Joe's doorstep demanding to see the boy. Fully convinced he'd be dead by now, when Joe failed to produce an explanation as to why his wife was gone and so was Steve.

Ben lost it!

He called a pack meeting on which he publicly executed Joe, whether it was a display of power or just pure psychopathic joy. Joe’s death left the town broken, when Katerina came back with a healed Steve, she found herself widowed and exiled.

As a last sick jab into Joe’s heart even after his death, Ben took Steve!

As the years went by Steve forgot his early years, he forgot Joe and Katerina!

Steve remembered stories of his betrayal, her exile! How their actions forever changed a pack. He grew up kind, giving, and strong! Even if Steve didn't experience or know much love from his father, he was full of it!

And thanks to that witch both Katerina’s little growing heartbeat and Steve were stronger than ever!

Tags:

@austynparksandpizza @exposition-belongs-somewhere

[staarshiine]

Turbulence

words: 1,773 tw: s*icdial thoughts

Louie knew that he shouldn’t be feeling this way, that it was a dangerous and terrible thought to have, but he just couldn’t muster up the energy to care anymore.

He hadn’t cared about anything for a long time.

-

or, Louie can’t sleep. He ends up spiraling.

Ao3

Louie didn’t know what it was that woke him up.

These nights even the slightest creek from the old house could startle him awake. It was embarrassing, really, to sometimes fall out of bed just because a poster fell off a wall, especially after he had a day of avoiding bears with chainsaws for arms. Maybe being such a light sleeper was the price he had to pay for a childhood of near death experiences. A shitty trade off, if you asked him.

In the end it didn’t really matter what woke him up, the result was the same.

Louie was left laying alone in the dark, tired out of his mind, but unable to sleep.

For some awful reason, his brain had decided to choose now to be uncomfortably aware of every inch of his body, almost as if sensing his desperate attempts to fall back asleep.

His gut was churning and twisting in a way he knew would evolve into a full blown stomachache the second he decided to get up, and there was a slight pang in the left side of his rib cage. His wrist and knuckles still hurt from when he had smacked the back of his hand against a stone wall while running away from the catastrophe of the day, and there was a similar stinging pain in his knee from when he scrapped it tripping and falling on the ground to narrowly avoid the swipe of an axe. His legs and the bottoms of his feet were aching from the cardio workout he got while running for his fucking life earlier that day.

He was just so tired.

The weariness went much further than just bone deep. It was as if exhaustion was laced into every breath, like someone had made thread out of lead and had sewn it into the very fabric of his soul.

He was tired of not being able to sleep through the night. He was tired of his body hurting all the time. He was tired of being forced to fight just to live every day.

He was tired of his life. He was tired of living.

The realization dawned upon him quietly but all at once, like the tide slowly inching in until he’s suddenly been submerged by the waves he didn't notice creeping in.

Louie knew that he shouldn’t be feeling this way, that it was a dangerous and terrible thought to have, but he just couldn’t muster up the energy to care anymore.

He hadn’t cared about anything for a long time.

When had the constant danger become normal? Why had he gotten used to being kidnapped on a daily basis, as if it wasn’t horrifying enough to get locked and tied up? How had having to run just for the chance to breath for another day become a regular occurrence?

Louie had been running on pure fear for so long, he wasn’t sure how to get through the day without adrenaline pulsing through his veins.

Maybe he was tired of fighting. He barely even knew what he was fighting for.

It wasn’t as if Uncle Scrooge allowed him to keep any of the treasures they found on adventures. The golden luster of a future life filled with riches had begun to lose its shine. Was some pretty coin worth all the trouble it was taking to get there?

He didn’t have many big dreams outside of just getting rich, it was almost sad. It was sad. But it wasn’t as if he was going to get far in life anyways. Louie was a greedy, lazy, selfish bastard and he knew that fact uncomfortably well. No matter what Louie did he could never seem to escape who he really was. Someone always ended up getting hurt.

Did he have anyone to be there for?

He didn’t have many friends, either. Not that he ever really tried to make any, not after the disaster that was Doofus Drake. Lena, Boyd, Violet, and Gosalyn were all nice, but they weren’t really his friends. They were all closer to his siblings. He wasn’t anyone’s first choice.

There was always his family.

His family who probably hated him.

Louie couldn’t even count the number of times he had put them into mortal danger for stupid reasons. No shiny ring or necklace was worth their lives, but he was always blinded by the shine and his own selfish greed, and risked it anyways. What reason had he given to deserve their love? He brought nothing good to the table. All he did was sit around all day and get in the way.

His family didn’t seem to have the same problems with the constant adventures that he did. Day after day they just popped back into action, bravely facing whatever life threw their way. Louie felt so ashamed in comparison. Was the problem just him? What was wrong with him?

Why couldn’t he do anything right?

Schemes were supposed to be his thing, the one skill he had that had the capacity to be helpful, to some degree. He fucked that up too.

He had blinked all of them out of existence because of his stupid fucking schemes, and his mom hated him for it. Of course she did. Who wouldn’t? He certainly did.

God.

He just wanted to go back to bed.

Louie didn’t know how much time he had spent, falling deeper and deeper into his own head, but he felt worse than ever before.

His blanket had long stopped being comforting and instead became suffocating. He could barely muster the energy to rip it off, and the sudden cold made him feel sick to his stomach.

Living in a literal tower seemed cool, but the novelty wore off once they realized Scrooge was too cheap to pay for the heating in the room.

Still, the cold was better than the clammy constricting blanket. He curled up tight into a fetal position, and tried to bite back the tears burning in his eyes.

Louie knew he wasn’t in the right mind, that his brain was playing tricks on him and skewing his perception of reality, but god did it feel real.

In that moment he truly believed nobody cared for him. That he was totally and utterly alone.

Then Dewey let out a loud snore above him.

It was such a stupid and small thing, but he couldn’t help but let out a snort. Which then exploded into full blown laughter.

Louie just couldn’t stop. He knew he was definitely going to wake someone up, but he just couldn’t control himself. He doubled over wheezing and cackling till his stomach and cheeks hurt, and each gasping breath began to turn into sobs.

Between the sound of his own manic laughter he could hear the sheets above him shuffling, and the quiet thunks of Huey climbing down the ladder.

Knowing his brothers were awake to witness his hot mess of a breakdown just made the situation even more hilarious in the same way a depressed clown falling on his ass was. Louie’s face was bright red from how hard he was laughing, and hot tears were streaming down his cheeks. He could barely breathe. Nothing about the situation felt real.

“...Louie?”

Dewey’s sleepy voice cut through Louie’s gasping breaths, and startled him out of his crazed giggling. Somehow both his brothers had manifested at the edge of his bed without him noticing. Louie could barely make out his brothers’ concerned expressions through his watery eyes.

Huey’s eyebrows were furrowed so hard Louie was surprised he hadn’t gotten wrinkles yet, and Dewey was rubbing his eye and clutching a pillow to his chest. He looked almost scared. Louie had to look really insane for Dewey of all people to be scared, Dewey wasn’t scared of anything. It was honestly concerning sometimes how often he would throw himself head first into danger.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Huey fretted, and moved to sit near him on the bed.

Like he had to ask. Louie knew he looked like a garbage fire that was hit by a freight train then tossed into a blender and hurled into the fucking sea.

You tell me, do I look okay, Hubert?

He knew he was being a little mean, but it was enough to throw Louie back into hysterical laughter, which quickly dissolved into violent sobs. Huey let out a distraught noise and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. Louie just let himself be held and cry into his older brother’s sleep shirt. He felt like a baby, but he couldn’t be bothered to care anymore. The bed dipped and creaked slightly as Dewey sat down on the other side, and began to rub circles into his back. That just made Louie cry even harder.

They really did care about him.

The thought suddenly flooded him with pure relief.

Louie didn’t know how long he spent sitting there and sobbing his eyes out, but eventually he ran out of tears to spill. His heaving cries sputtered off into quiet gasps and eventually he was left quietly clutching to Huey’s side. The night still felt unreal, like the second Louie let go Huey and Dewey would vanish and he would be all alone again.

“...No,” Louie weakly whispered out, his voice scratchy and raw from the abuse Louie had just put his throat through. “I’m not okay. I… I think I haven't been for a really long time.”

No one said anything. Dewey just leaned into his other side and gave Louie’s hand a slight squeeze. Huey shifted slightly to reach up and gently wipe away Louie’s tears. He rested his palm against Louie’s cheek and guided his head to rest on Huey’s shoulder. They were such small acts of affection, but it was enough to warm Louie’s heart. It was right there, sitting sandwiched between both his brother’s, did Louie finally feel a sliver of hope.

He was loved.

It didn’t matter what he thought of himself, there would always be two people in his little corner of the world who cared about him.

Louie was still tired. He wasn’t sure anything could lift that heavy feeling out of his chest, but just sitting there and being held made it just the slightest bit lighter.

Maybe he could make it through another day.

Maybe tomorrow morning he could work up the courage to talk to his siblings and explain just exactly how he was feeling. But for now, all Louie was concerned about was letting his heavy eyelids slip shut.

And finally, he fell asleep.

[zuffer-weird-girl]

What if Kai meet his angel in school hitting one of the people who beat him up and then follows him home asking him questions and then saying by friend and months go by and they get closer and he ask pops about dating and they go on a cute date

Awwawaaww I absolutely LOVE writing for Kid Chisaki X3

Btw I'm sorry about the pops giving him advice on dating angel... maybe on a next scenario

The pain still remained on his cheek and he noticed the dirty eyes he was receiving, but he could care less. Those sick deserved all of the beating for speaking low about the yakusa.

"Yo, Kai." He heard Hari's voice from behind him and he merely grunted in response, still walking and reading his book "Is.. Is that (L/n)?" He followed Kurono's finger and saw the girl with a dark aura around her while walking.

To say he was a bit taken off from guard was a understatement. That one was know of being one of the most quiet and reserved persons on his class... but yet, she talked a bit with him, aand he could catch at least that she was pure, a quirkless little thing, and so gentle he was actually annoyed by how much she was nice even with people who didn't deserved it.

"Someone's angry apparently." Hari mumbled before Chisaki scoffed, returning his gaze to the book in his hands.

That was... until he heard screaming.

He shoted his head back up immediately and found that you had just punched one of the boys who spoked bad about the yakusa and fought with him.

"The hell is your problem weirdo?!" The boy shouted while covering his bloody nose.

"Next time-" you kicked him just in the stomach, making him fall flat with his back on the floor "Don't just say bad things about someone's family like that!"

Some other people went to hold you back while the boy got up and prepared to retreat back what he received.

"Useless bag of nothing!" He shouted with tears in his eyes but a angry look as well "You're going to pay for that!"

You cringed your teeth together before jumping and hitting both of your feet on him, struggling in the other's boys arms in a desperate way to get free.

You did not think this through...

One of them grabbed your hair harshly and made you look up at the bully, whose was glaring you down.

"Any meaning on why you hit me? If is about that yakusa thug then come on-" he rolled his eyes with a sigh "Just give me a break."

"You dont have any rights to speak about them so lowly like that Kei!" You almost cried at the way they put more pressure on your body on the ground as they lifted your head by the hair, but you still remained with the scowl "What? Sad about that your parents just divorced and went to speak shit about others?"

You got the opportunity at the shock of the people and got out of their grasp, getting up to leave another lunch as you twirled around in the air to hit a heavy kick on Kei's head with a shout.

"(L/N) (Y/n)! WHAT'S THE MEANING OF THIS?!" A teacher yelled while passing abrupt through Chisaki and Kurono.

"That... was quite a show. Right Chisaki?" Kurono asked nonchantly, turning to his friend quickly at noticing he didn't responded "Chisaki?"

The book in his hands was totally forgotten as his amber eyes looked at you. Covered in dirt and with a frow and pout on your face as the kid yelled and scolded with you.

...why?

~

You sighed as you crossed your arms over your little chest as you swan your legs on the big chair.... waiting for the principal to finish his talking with your grandma.

Luckily your grandma knew why you had dine that... at least you weren't so screwed.

"Oi." A monotonous voice manifested as you looked up with a confused sound before looking at your left... seing that dark brow hair and golden eyes boy aproaching you slowly... stoic yet firm gaze as his hands were on his pockets while walking.

You tilted your head in confusion before he stopped right in front of you. Sighing, he took his hands out of his pockets to cross them over his chest as he arched one yebrow and glared dow at you.

"Spit it out. What do you want?"

"Eh?"

"Don't play dumb with me." He hissed angrily before his glare intensified "You beat that guy because of what he sayed about the yakusa, am I wrong?" You shooked head confusely before flinching at his intense gaze and how he threateningly got closer.

"Then you must want something to just had done that. Spill it out." He growled while you blinked your wide eyes, before doing something that angered yet confused Chisaki to no ends.

You laughed. First some supressed giggles but soon errupted on a slaughter that left his face and chest surrounded by a unknown heat.

"What the hell is so funny in the first place?" He hissed while you muffled your laughter with a hand in your mouth.

"G-Geez!" You breathed in "Why should I want something?"

"Is how it works stupid." He growled "Exchange of favors."

"... exchange of what?" You almost squealed while he deadpanned.

"You can't be that dumb."

"Am not! Just because I dont know the meaning of a word yet it doesn't mean I am dumb." You smiled with a eyebrow lifted up, not understanding why this boy's cheeks were so pink.

"Answer my damn question."

"But you didn't asked me any-"

"What the hell do you want?" He almost shouted this time in irritation "Nothing is for free in this world, so stop this already and tell already what you want for defending the yakusa."

You widen your eyes a bit in surprise before extending your arms in a uncaring shrug with a smile.

"Nothing. I want nothing from you, Chisaki-kun."

"What?" He asked in almost disbelief while you giggled and arched a bit your back to look up at him, still on his feet while you were in the chair.

"The yakusa is like a family to you right? You like them as one." You looked a bit down with s frow "Others shouldn't comment on other kids life only because they are from a mafia or different than the 'normal'".

You giggled a bit before looking up at him again.

"I just feel like it. Besides, the yakusa isn't that bad after all right? The owner does raise you and one more kid along after all."

He was... shocked, to say at least. You went there, got dirty and hurt while fighting someone who had no bussines with you, probably going to have some problems with the school and your own family from now on...

And yet... you defended him. And didn't want it.. nothing in return.

Your grandmother's voice broke you two conversations, right when she called you say it you were coming jumping out of your chair and quickly getting to her side.

But before that you turned a but to catch him still looking at you with dumbfounded golden orbs instead of stoic and cold ones.

"Besides!" You chirped with the most sweet and warm smile he swore he never saw on his whole life while you grabbed your granny hand "I like you Chisaki! A lot!" And with those left words you left...

"...huh?" He almost squeaked that out, heart racing in one mile away as his whole body turned into pure heat.

He didn't even complained less noticed Kurono's touch on his shoulder or even attempts to call him out of his frozen state.

The hell you had done with him?

Time skip!

"Let me at him Chisaki Kai. Let me fucking at him." You growled your words, already preparing to throw fists with Rappa without a single hesitation.

"Absolutely not." He growled back, grabbing on your shoulder and yanking you back to him. "Control youserlf idiot."

"Yeah, syas the man who overhauled so many people which I lost count only because they looked wrong or even insulted me for being quirkless." You pouted at him before yelping at receiving a flip on you forehead.

"Is different."

"No is not!" You protested while he only arched a eyebrow.

"Am I quirkless?" You went to answer but he interrupted you again "Do I act before thinking? Do I went to the principal when we were kids because-"

"Oh god okay I get it." You whined before crossing your arms.

He huffed before lowering his mask down a bit, revealing his devilish smirk before he tilted your head up to him with the hand he carried proudly the weeding ring on his finger.

"My fiance should be less careless you know?" He commented while you arched a eyebrow with a smirk.

"With my careless self that I made you fall for me devil. Sure you want to change that?"

"You? Making me fall? Don't make me laugh brat." He kissed your lips before trailing his lips to your earlobe and nibble on them a bit.

"I am the one making this angel fall. Each... night." He chuckled devilish at the shivering you presented and the furious blush that appeared in your face.

"Unfair attack Kai. Unfair."

"Since when the world is fair? I guess it was only..." he brought your hand and touched his lips slightly at the weeding ring in your hand, not even getting worried because after so many years you knew exactly how to clean something properly "When heavens sent me the purest and brightest angel from above."

[alecmagnuslwb]

Illness

Writer’s Month 2020 Day Nine

Part of my Shadowhunters Post-Canon Series

Read on AO3

Maryse Lightwood doesn’t get sick. She has trained her body to be a machine for fighting all things and that includes colds. Every sniffle that’s even come close to manifesting as a full blown illness has been fought off with runes aside from when she was pregnant with Alec and couldn’t use certain ones to protect the baby, she’d been much more cautious on the other two pregnancies ensuring that she didn’t so much as go outside in chilled air without at minimum seven layers on.

The problem is she can’t use runes anymore, her skin no longer bares the dark marks that once kept her safe. Not that if she could she’d have the strength to get out of bed and grab a stele right now.

But she has to find it in her because even though it’s Sunday the shop opens in an hour and she needs to shower, have breakfast, throw on a mask for everyone else’s benefit and just suck it up.

It takes almost fifteen minutes and twelve tissues but she works up the energy to stand and make it to the shower. She leans against the cool shower wall the entire time doing a cursory cleaning that she decides is more than enough.

She runs a comb through her long, wet hair, puts on the most comfortable and acceptable in public clothes she owns and is just about to make her breakfast when she sneezes so hard it knocks her right back into bed. She falls back letting gravity take her and groans loudly.

She tries to muster up the energy to get back up and just can’t find it instead opting to curl up on her side.

She reaches for her phone sending a quick text to her new mundane employee asking them to open up the store and take care of it for the day with a promise of overtime pay and then Luke to let him know she’ll be missing their date tonight.

Her phone buzzes with responses after she tosses it on the nightstand too tired to reach out and read them she assumes they’re just well wishes and she’ll get a call if it’s something more important. Her phone goes quiet after that and before she knows it she’s drifting off to sleep a handful of tissues clutched tightly in her hand.

By the time she wakes the suns a lot higher in the sky than it was when she literally fell back into bed. Her nose is stuffier than it had been, but her head does hurt a little less so small blessings she presumes.

She eyes the alarm clock by her bed and realizes it’s already nearing 4 o’clock, her stomach grumbles at the realization her appetite seemingly still intact despite the fact her head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and mere moments away from exploding.

She looks down noticing she’s covered in a blanket she doesn’t recall pulling around herself when she hears the sound of pots and pans moving about in her kitchen. Her first instinct is pure Shadowhunter sitting up quickly despite the fact that her body protests grabbing the blade she keeps under her bed. She pulls the blanket around her shoulders and holds the blade ready to fight as she creeps out through her cracked bedroom door.

More shuffling comes from the kitchen, the sound of the fridge opening and closing when Maryse turns the corner blade at the ready.

She drops it to her side immediately upon seeing the muscled back of her boyfriend shifting back and forth between a pot on the stovetop and a pan sitting off to the side. He picks up the pan, opens the oven and bends over to place it inside giving Maryse a nice view of his backside.

“I almost stabbed you,” Maryse says hearing her voice for the first time all day. Her throat sounds scratchy and her congestion makes her sound like the little redheaded boy from the cartoon that Isabelle used to watch when she was a child. She shuffles over to the island that separates her small kitchen from her even smaller living room sitting down on one of the refurbished stools Luke got her for her birthday. “But I’m not complaining about the view.”

Luke turns and smiles a bright wide smile as she drops her blade on the counter. He walks over placing a glass of water in front of her.

She hums in thanks chugging down the whole thing in a few gulps. He gets to work on pouring her a glass of tea the warm scent of honey and ginger fills the air as he sits it down in front of her before filling her glass back up. She wraps her hands around the mug the warmth seeping into her fingertips as she inhales the scent best she can with her stuffed up nose.

“Feeling any better?” he asks checking whatever’s in the pot on the stove and putting a lid on it.

Maryse grimaces, “Not really. How long have you been here?”

Luke shrugs. “A few hours, I was worried when you didn’t answer my text so I drove over and found you passed out and surrounded by a ring of tissues. I popped out for some groceries to make you my mom’s spicy chicken noodle soup and biscuits, been cooking ever since.”

Maryse smiles hiding the grin in her mug as she takes a sip.

“You didn’t have to do all that, I don’t want you to get sick,” she says.

“I don’t have to, I want to,” he smiles rolling up his sleeves the dark runes she’s still getting used to being on his skin again showing. He leans on the counter running his fingers delicately along her hand that’s not holding the mug any longer. “It’s worth the risk of a little cold to take care of my lady.”

She smiles again not hiding it in her drink this time. She can’t remember a time when someone cared for her the way Luke does. Her only romantic relationship really ever had been Robert and even at his sweetest moments early on in their marriage he was never this kind, this caring. He never so much as brought her a mug of tea when she had a headache and here Luke is making sure she’s comfortable, making her homemade family recipes and just taking gentle care of her. It’s all so thrilling in its simplicity.

“Weren’t you supposed to be on a diplomatic mission today?” she asks tangling their fingers together lightly.

He nods running a thumb along her knuckles.

“I was, but I’ve got this in with the Head of the Institute so he offered to go in my place,” he smirks. Luke’s close bond with Alec, and all her children, is just another reason Maryse adores him so. “Warlocks like him better anyways,” he adds with a kiss to her knuckles before pulling away to check on the biscuits in the oven.

He bends over again and she whistles playfully the sound a little aborted because of her congestion but the meaning gets across nonetheless. Luke laughs shaking his ass a little to play along.

Not long after that he sets her up on the couch with an ice-cold bottle of water, some more tea, three boxes of tissues and the British cooking competition she’s grown to love playing on the tv. He joins her after a while two bowls of delicious chicken noodle soup and a plate of warm biscuits on a tray. He settles beside her pulling her in close under his arm his free hand not holding a spoon for his own soup softly running across her hair.

She finishes her soup and somewhere between the mean guy with the blue eyes critiquing someone’s cake ruthlessly and the next episode playing automatically she drifts back off to sleep this time with Luke’s warm chest and strong arms around her.

[srinithyananda]

28 AUGUST 2020, 08:14 PM, FRIDAY - NITHYANANDA SATSANG - ENGLISH GIST *PARAMASHIVA’S MESSAGE DIRECTLY FROM KAILASA: *36 PRINCIPLES OF MY OWN MANIFESTATION, LEARNING BY WHICH YOU WILL INTENSELY MANIFEST MULTIPLE POWERS FOR WHICH YOU ARE HARDWIRED AND GLORIFYING YOUR EXISTENCE AS PARAMASHIVA, MANIFEST YOUR PARAMASHIVATVA. *THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING ABOUT HINDUISM IS: EVERYTHING IS EXPLAINED ONLY TO MAKE YOU ENLIGHTENED. *DO NOT LEARN ANYTHING WHICH IS NOT DIRECTLY MAKING YOU MANIFEST POWERS AND MOKSHA. *PARAMASHIVA MANIFESTING THROUGH YOUR BODY IS PARAMASHIVATVA. YOU MERGING INTO HIM IS PARAMASHIVA GADHI. EITHER YOU SHOULD BE MANIFESTING PARAMASHIVATVA OR MERGING IN PARAMASHIVA GADHI. *TO ALL MY KIDS, I WANT TO TELL THIS: DO NOT LEARN ANYTHING WHICH IS NOT MOKSHA CENTRIC, PARAMASHIVATVA OR PARAMASHIVA GADHI CENTRIC. *ONE SMALL INCIDENT: MY GURU, YOGANANDA PURI USED TO TELL ME, ‘DON'T EAT IN THE NIGHT TIME. ONCE SUN SETS, DON'T EAT. AFTER SUNSET IF YOU FEEL HUNGER, IT IS FALSE HUNGER.’ *IN TAMIL HE WILL TELL CUTELY, ‘AFTER SUNSET IF YOUR STOMACH FEELS HUNGER, IT IS FALSE HUNGER. DON'T GIVE IT FOOD. TAKE A COLD WET CLOTH. DIP IT IN COLD WATER AND PUT IT ON YOUR STOMACH. IT SHOULD TOUCH YOUR LIVER. THE WHOLE AREA YOU SHOULD COVER AND SLEEP OFF.’ *IN INDIA, THIS IS USED AS DEFINITION OF POVERTY WHERE PEOPLE WOULD SAY, ‘WE DON’T HAVE ENOUGH MONEY FOR FOOD, SO WE JUST PUT WET CLOTH OVER THE STOMACH AND SLEEP.’ IT IS NO MORE A SYMBOL OF POVERTY. IT IS A SYMBOL OF RICHNESS NOW! THIRD RATE, POOR, LOWER MIDDLE CLASS, EAT LIKE A PIG 3 TIMES A DAY. RICH ROYAL KINGS ONCE IN A MONTH! *STOP EATING AFTER SUNSET. DON'T ASSOCIATE FOOD AND RICHNESS. *AFTER SUNSET IF YOU ARE FEELING HUNGRY, YOUR STOMACH IS LYING TO YOU. IT IS FALSE HUNGER. JUST PUT A WET CLOTH ON YOUR STOMACH COVERING UP TO THE LIVER AREA AND SLEEP. ONLY FIRST FEW DAYS YOU MAY STRUGGLE A LITTLE BIT, BUT DO THIS FOR HEALTH. *ONE PERSON ASKED MY GURU, ‘WILL I NOT GET GASTRIC PROBLEM IF I DON’T EAT WHEN I AM FEELING HUNGRY?’ *HE SAID, ‘GASTRIC PROBLEM WON'T KILL YOU. BUT IF YOU EAT AFTER SUNSET, YOU WILL GET LIVER PROBLEM AND DIE!’ *AFTER SUNSET, YOUR BODY HAS ENOUGH FIRE/FUEL, JATARAGNI, ONLY TO BURN WHAT IS ALREADY CONSUMED. *IN DIGESTIVE FIRES, THERE ARE 3 LEVELS. JATARAGNI HAS 3 FORMS OF EXISTENCE. *AFTER SUNSET THE JATARAGNI DOES NOT HAVE THE ENERGY NEEDED TO RECEIVE MORE LOAD. *AMONG THE BRAHMANAS, THE AGNI GOTRIS AND BHARADWAJA GOTRIS - FLYING BRAHMANAS DON’T EAT AFTER SUNSET. IT WAS BHARADWAJA RISHI WHO WROTE THE WHOLE SCIENCE OF FLYING. THOSE BRAHMANAS USED TO FLY AND MOVE FROM PLACE TO PLACE. *HINDUISM HAD BOTH THE MECHANISMS - AS AN INDIVIDUAL WE COULD FLY HAVING A SMALL ATTACHMENT TO THE BODY - AKASHA MARGA - AND WE HAD THE TECHNOLOGY TO FLY AS A GROUP! WE HAD BOTH TECHNOLOGIES, MECHANISMS. *THE ADISHAIVA VELLALAR COMMUNITY AND THE JAIN COMMUNITY DON’T EAT AFTER SUNSET. *NOT EATING AFTER SUNSET IS ONE OF THE MOST INTELLIGENCE KINDLING TECHNIQUES. *EVERY NIGHT, IT IS NOT THAT YOU FALL INTO THE SAME DREAM STATE OR DEEP SLEEP STATE. DEPENDING ON THE CHEMISTRY OF THE BODY ON THAT DAY, THE STATE IN WHICH YOU ARE GOING TO SETTLE DOWN WILL BE DECIDED. *IF THERE IS SO MUCH OF FOOD, TOXINS IN YOUR BODY, NATURALLY YOU WILL FALL INTO THE SHIT STATE. *IF YOU HAVE DONE NIRAHARA SAMYAMA, YOU WILL UNDERSTAND, EVEN YOUR SLEEP WILL BE ROMANTIC, LIGHT, BEAUTIFUL! *WHY YOU LIKE ROMANCE SO MUCH YOU KNOW? IT MAKES YOU LIGHT. IT GIVES YOU JAGRAT-SUSHUPTI EXPERIENCE: THE LIGHTNESS OF SUSHUPTI AND ALIVE FEELING OF JAGRAT! *IF YOU STOP EATING AFTER SUNSET, THE BODY GOES THROUGH SELF CLEANING. I GUARANTEE YOU THAT IN 11 DAYS, THE WHOLE NIGHT, THAT STATE WILL BECOME A ROMANCE KIND OF A SPACE. *STOP EATING AFTER SUNSET. *FROM MORNING TILL NIGHT, WHATEVER YOU DO, DO WITH YOUR ATMA LINGA. YOU WILL SIMPLY SEE THAT IN THE NIGHT, YOU WILL BE CUDDLING PARAMASHIVA, YOU WILL BE SLEEPING IN THE LAP OF PARAMASHIVA! *LESS FOOD OR NO FOOD IN THE STOMACH IN THE NIGHT, KEEPS YOUR WHOLE STATE OF CONSCIOUSNESS PURE. *HALF AN HOUR OF TURIYA STATE OR THE SWEET ROMANCE SPACE, REJUVENATES YOUR BODY AND MIND MORE THAN 10 HOURS OF SLEEP AND DREAM STATE. THE QUANTITY OF YOUR SLEEP WILL DRASTICALLY REDUCE. THE TIME YOU ARE ROLLING ON THE BED WILL DRASTICALLY REDUCE. THE QUALITY OF YOUR REJUVENATED FEELING WILL DRASTICALLY INCREASE. *MY WHOLE LIFE IS FOCUSED ON RAISING THE QUALITY OF YOUR CONSCIOUSNESS. *LAST 26 YEARS, AFTER MY GURUS ORDAINED ME AND GAVE ME THE PEETHA, THE INHERITANCE, THE ONLY WORK I AM DOING, I AM FOCUSSED ON, IS RAISING THE QUALITY OF YOUR EXISTENCE. *KEEP THE STOMACH EMPTY IN THE NIGHT TIME. YOU CAN HAVE COLD WET CLOTH OVER YOUR STOMACH UP TO THE LIVER AREA. IT WILL RAISE THE QUALITY OF YOUR WHOLE CONSCIOUSNESS. YOUR WHOLE SLEEP WILL BE CONVERTED TO MEDITATION TIME AND TURIYA STATE. *IF YOUR STOMACH HAS SO MUCH UNDIGESTED FOOD, SHIT, IF IT IS RUNNING LIKE AN INDUSTRY, IT WILL RUIN YOUR REST, REJUVENATION. IF YOUR JATARAGNI IS CLEAN AND PURE FIRE, AND NOT LOADED, IF IT IS LIKE THE PURE LAMP OF A GARBHA MANDIR OF A TEMPLE, THE WHOLE FIRE WILL REACH THE CROWN CENTER. YOU WILL REACH TURIYA AND TURIYATITA - HIGHEST CONSCIOUS EXISTENCE. *I GUARANTEE: ANYONE WHO DOES NOT EAT AFTER SUNSET LIVES HEALTHY, RICH, LONG LIFE. *HEALTH IS NOTHING BUT A SMART STRATEGY TO BE USEFUL TO OTHERS AND MAKE THE WORLD USEFUL TO YOU. THAT DEVELOPS IN YOUR SYSTEM EVEN IF YOU ENJOY TURIYA AND TURIYATITA STATE FOR A FEW MINUTES A DAY. *WITH NO FOOD IN THE STOMACH AFTER SUNSET, AUTOMATICALLY YOU WILL FALL INTO TURIYA AND TURIYATITA. *I HAVE A SHASTRA PRAMANA FOR YOU FROM SUSHRUTA SAMHITA, 64TH CHAPTER, 85TH SLOKA - सायं प्रातः मनुष्याणाम् अशनं श्रुतिचोदितम्। नान्तरा भोजनं कुर्यात् अग्निहोत्रसमो विधिः।। SĀYAṂ PRĀTAḤ MANUṢYĀṆĀM AŚANAṂ ŚRUTICODITAM। NĀNTARĀ BHOJANAṂ KURYĀT AGNIHOTRASAMO VIDHIḤ।। TRANSLATION HUMAN BEINGS SHOULD EAT (ONLY) IN THE MORNING AND IN THE EVENING, AS PER THE VEDIC INJUNCTION. FOOD SHOULD NOT BE EATEN IN BETWEEN THESE TWO MEAL TIMES. THIS RULE IS EQUAL TO THE RULE OF AGNI HOTRA VIDHI. *I WANT ALL MY DISCIPLES TO FOLLOW THIS. *IF YOU HAVE BECOME MY DEVOTEE/DISCIPLE RECENTLY AND HAVE POT BELLY, IT IS TOLERABLE. BUT IF YOU HAVE BEEN MY DEVOTEE/DISCIPLE FOR MORE THAN A YEAR AND HAVE A POT BELLY, THEN SOMETHING IS SERIOUSLY WRONG. YOU ARE SOMEWHERE CHEATING… *THOU SHALT NOT HAVE POT BELLY. THOU SHALL ENTER THE KINGDOM OF KAILASA ONLY WITHOUT A POT BELLY. I HAVE MADE THE ENTRANCE OF KAILASA IN SUCH A WAY THAT POT BELLY PEOPLE WILL BE STUCK! *DON’T SAY, ‘GANAPATI ALSO HAS A POT BELLY.’ HE HAS THE WHOLE BRAHMANDA IN HIS POT BELLY. BUT YOU HAVE SO MUCH SHIT IN YOUR POT BELLY! *BEING SLIM, TRIM, HEALTHY IS THE BASIC QUALIFICATION OF NITHYANANDA’S DISCIPLES. IF YOU ARE NEW, IT IS TOLERABLE, BUT NOT IF YOU ARE MORE THAN A 1-YEAR-OLD DISCIPLE/ DEVOTEE. *IN HINDU TRADITION, ANY TATTVA WE EXPLAIN IS ONLY FOR LIBERATION, FOR MOKSHA CENTRIC LIFESTYLE, MOKSHA CENTRIC KNOWLEDGE. *ALL THE BEST HEALTHY, RICH, LONG LIVING COMMUNITIES - BHARADWAJA GOTRA BRAHMANAS, PRACTISING IYENGARS, ADI SHAIVA VELLALARS, CREAM OF THE JAIN COMMUNITY WHO PRACTICE SALLEKHANA DON’T EAT AFTER SUNSET. *MY GRANDMOTHER USED TO SAY, ‘ONLY GHOSTS WILL EAT AFTER SUNSET. IF YOU EAT AFTER SUNSET, YOU WILL BECOME GHOST!’ *YOU CAN BECOME INTENSELY ACTIVE, ALIVE, RICH, HEALTHY, LIVING LONG LIFE, IF YOU JUST TAKE UP THIS SIMPLE PRINCIPLES. *AND IT IS NOT THAT YOU NEED TO STRUGGLE WITH THESE PRINCIPLES FOREVER. NO! JUST FIRST FEW DAYS IS ONLY PRACTICE. ONCE YOUR BODY STARTS TASTING THIS LIFESTYLE, EVEN YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO DESTROY YOURSELF. THAT IS THE BEAUTY OF THIS GREAT SCIENCE! *ESPECIALLY NOW WITH THIS PANDEMIC FATIGUE, I CAN SEE THE WHOLE WORLD GOING THROUGH THE DELUSIONAL ARROGANCE. EVERYBODY IS READY TO DIE BUT DON'T WANT TO HAVE ANY MORE RESTRICTIONS OR QUARANTINE PRINCIPLES. *PEOPLE ARE SICK AND TIRED OF THE QUARANTINE PRINCIPLES OR TRAVEL RESTRICTIONS. THEY ARE NOW READY TO DIE! *IT IS NOT THAT THE NUMBERS OF DEATH DUE TO CORONA HAS COME DOWN, BUT THE RESTRICTIONS ARE RELAXED. PEOPLE ARE READY TO DIE BUT DON'T WANT TO RESTRICT THEMSELVES. THIS IS WHAT I CALL PANDEMIC FATIGUE, DELUSIONAL ARROGANCE. *UNFORTUNATELY POLITICS GOT MIXED INTO CORONA. LET US KEEP THE PURE SPIRITUAL TRUTHS AS IS. *TO ALL MY FOLLOWERS, LISTEN: STAY HOME, STAY SAFE AT LEAST TILL DECEMBER 14TH. LET THIS PRALAYA BE OVER. *36 TATTVAS CAN BE EXPLAINED FROM VARIOUS ANGLES, FROM THE ANGLE OF PHYSICS, CHEMISTRY, BIOLOGY, ALCHEMY. *I AM GOING TO EXPLAIN FROM THE ANGLE OF ENLIGHTENMENT - PARAMASHIVATVA AND PARAMASHIVA GADHI. *PARAMASHIVATVA MEANS PARAMASHIVA MANIFESTING IN YOU. PARAMASHIVA GADHI MEANS, YOU RESTING IN PARAMASHIVA, YOU BECOMING ONE WITH PARAMASHIVA. *THIS WORD ‘SHIVA GADHI’ IS THE EARLIEST RECORDED BY TIRUMOOLAR. சிவசிவ என்கிலர் தீவினையாளர் சிவசிவ என்றிடத் தீவினை மாளும் சிவசிவ என்றிடத் தேவரும் ஆவர் சிவசிவ என்னச் சிவகதிதானே. SHIVA SHIVA YENGILAR TEEVINAIYAALAR SHIVA SHIVA YENDRIDA TEEVINAI MAALUM SHIVA SHIVA YENDRIDA DEVARUM AAVAR SHIVA SHIVA YENNA SHIVA GADHIDAANE IT MEANS: PEOPLE WHO DON'T KNOW THE VIBRATION ‘SHIVA SHIVA’ FALL INTO THE LIFE NEGATIVE. THOSE WHO KNOW THE VIBRATION ‘SHIVA SHIVA’, WILL REACH THE SPACE OF DEVAS. ALL THEIR LIFE NEGATIVITY WILL BE DESTROYED AND ULTIMATELY THEY WILL HAVE THE SHIVA GADHI. *DETOXING YOUR CONSCIOUSNESS SUPPORTING YOUR CONSCIOUSNESS FOR IT TO MANIFEST IN YOUR BODY IS THE PURPOSE OF MY LIFE. *I AM GOING TO EXPLAIN THIS 36 PRINCIPES FROM THE ANGLE OF ENLIGHTENMENT, HELPING YOU TO MANIFEST SHIVA GADHI. *BEFORE STARTING THE DEEPER LEVELS OF EXPLANATION, I WANT ALL OF YOU TO SIT STRAIGHT. KEEP YOUR ATMALINGA AND JNANANJANA NEXT TO YOU, SO THAT EVERY PRINCIPLE I EXPLAIN WILL DIRECTLY GET INTO YOU AND JUST START OPERATING. *SHIVA, SHIVA, SHIVA, SHIVA….. *AKSHUBDHA BINDU - IS THE PURE PARAMASHIVA SPACE. *I BOW DOWN TO PARAMASHIVA GANAPATI. I BOW DOWN TO PARAMASHIVA. LET PARAMASHIVA’S AKSHUBDHA BINDU STATE MANIFEST IN ALL OF US AND MAKE US ALL REALISE THESE 36 TATTVAS FROM THE SHIVA GADHI. *I AM GOING TO EXPLAIN THESE 36 TATTVAS FOR ENLIGHTENMENT TO MANIFEST PARAMASHIVATVA AND PARAMASHIVA GADHI AND WITH THE REALIZATION OF ESTABLISHING PARATVA. *THE SUPREMACY AND ULTIMATE STATE OF PARAMASHIVA, பரமசிவ பரதத்வத்தை உணர்ந்து (PARAMASHIVA PARATATVATTAI UNARNDHU) - REALIZING THE SUPREMACY OF PARAMASHIVA OVER THIS WHOLE EXISTENCE, I AM EXPLAINING PARAMASHIVA’S VIEW OF THIS 36 PRINCIPES FOR ALL OF US TO MANIFEST PARAMASHIVATVA, PARAMASHIVA GADHI, PARAMASHIVA PADHAM. *THE FIRST AND FOREMOST REQUIREMENT FOR THIS AKSHUBDHA BINDU STATE IS ‘DHEERAHA’. DO NOT STOP ANYWHERE IN BETWEEN WHEN YOU ARE GIVEN WEALTH, OR ANYTHING ELSE, TILL YOU REACH THE PARAMASHIVA STATE. *ONE OF THE BIGGEST PROBLEMS YOU WILL HAVE WHEN YOU START MANIFESTING POWERS IS NOT ‘NOT HAVING’ WHAT YOU WANT, BUT YOU WILL BE HAVING ‘TOO MUCH’ OF WHAT YOU WANT, AND YOU MAY START GETTING STUCK WITH THIS PSYCHODRAMA OF WANTING AND HAVING, WANTING AND HAVING AND FORGETTING PARAMASHIVA. *POVERTY WILL NOT BE YOUR PROBLEM. TOO MUCH OF WEALTH, LUXURY WILL BE YOUR PROBLEM. DECIDE YOU WILL BE DHEERA. YOU WILL NOT STOP ANYWHERE BY BECOMING DEVA OR DEVENDRA OR ANY OF THE OTHER HIGHER STATES. *YOU WILL HAVE THE GUTS AND COURAGE NOT TO STOP TILL YOU MANIFEST PARAMASHIVATVA. *TAKE THE SANKALPA AND REQUEST PARAMASHIVA TO SUPPORT YOU IN THIS SANKALPA. YOU SHOULD MANIFEST PARAMASHIVATVA. TILL THEN YOU SHOULD NOT STOP. *I AM NOT SAYING, ‘DO NOT ENJOY THE LUXURIES OF DEVALOKA OR BHULOKA.’ I AM ONLY SAYING, ‘DON'T BE STUCK THERE. DON'T STOP THERE!’ I AM ONLY SAYING, ‘STOP GETTING STUCK.’ *HAVE A BIG COUCH. YOU CAN REST THERE, BUT YOU CANNOT PUT THE SEAT BELT ON THE COUCH AND BECOME A COUCH POTATO UST BECAUSE YOU BOUGHT IT FOR 2000 DOLLAR! *WHENEVER YOU ARE STUCK WITH YOUR LUXURIES, YOUR LUXURIES BECOME MORE VALUABLE THAN YOUR CONSCIOUSNESS. *I WANT TO SELECT AND ELECT KAILASA ADMINISTRATION AND PEOPLE FOR HINDU PARLIAMENT. *BEFORE THAT I WANTED TO DEFINE THIS 36 PRINCIPLES AND ONLY PEOPLE WHO UNDERSTAND THESE 36 PRINCIPLES, I WANT THEM TO BE PART OF KAILASA ADMINISTRATION AND HINDU PARLIAMENT. THAT IS WHY I AM EXPANDING ON THESE PRINCIPLES AND CONCEPTS. *DO NOT BE STUCK IN ANY LUXURY. LET YOUR LUXURIES NOT MAKE YOU FORGET YOUR AKSHUBDHA BINDU STATE - PARAMASHIVATVA, PARAMASHIVA GADHI, PARAMASHIVA PARATVA NIRUPANAM. *I WANT TO ESTABLISH THE SUPREMACY OF PARAMASHIVA, ULTIMATENESS OF PARAMASHIVA, SO YOU WILL NOT GET STUCK IN ANY OTHER LUXURY, COMFORT, OR FULFILLMENT OR ANYTHING ELSE. *FEW DAYS AGO I WAS TELLING IN THE SATSANG, ‘WHEREVER I OBEYED MY GURUS 100%, I GOT MANY NOT ONLY KNOWN BUT UNKNOWN BENEFITS.’ WHEREVER I DID NOT LISTEN TO MY GURUS’ WORDS DIRECTLY, NOT ONLY I GOT OTHER REPERCUSSIONS, I GOT MANY UNTOLD PROBLEMS. *TAKE THIS SANKALPA OF BEING A DHEERA. DHEERA MEANS, ‘BEING BOLD, COURAGEOUS, POWERFUL, FEROCIOUS AND WILL NOT STOP ANYWHERE IN BETWEEN TILL I MANIFEST PARAMASHIVATVA, PARAMASHIVA GADHI, PARAMA PADHAM.’ TAKE THIS SANKALPA! *EVEN IF INDRA LOKA IS OFFERED TO YOU, EVEN IF YOU ARE MADE AS KING OF HEAVEN, DON'T BE STUCK THERE. TELL THEM, ‘THANKS FOR YOUR OFFER, BUT I WANT TO BE WITH PARAMASHIVA. THAT IS PARAMASHIVA PARATVA NIRUPANAMA.’ *THERE IS A BEAUTIFUL VERSE IN VAISHNAVA TRADITION பச்சைமா மலைபோல் மேனி பவளவாய் கமலச் செங்கண் அச்சுதா. அமர ரேறே. ஆயர்தம் கொழுந்தே. என்னும், இச்சுவை தவிர யான்போய் இந்திர லோக மாளும், அச்சுவை பெறினும் வேண்டேன் அரங்கமா நகரு ளானே Pachai Mamalai Pol Meni Pavalavaai Kamala Chenkan Achyutaa Amararere Aayar Tham Kozhundhe Yennum Ichchuvai Thavira Yaan Poai Indira logam Aalum Achchuvai Perinum Vaenden Arangama Nagarulane *DEVOTEE OF VISHNU CRIES TO VISHNU, ‘THE TASTE OF ME CELEBRATING YOU, SINGING THE GLORY, THE TASTE OF ONENESS, FEELING CONNECTION WITH YOU IS BEST. EVEN AS RULER OF INDRALOKA, I DON'T WANT THAT. I WANT ONLY THE FEELING CONNECTION WITH YOU.’ THAT IS THE DHEERA OF A BHAKTA, DEVOTEE’S DHEERA! *ALL OF YOU SHOULD HAVE THE DHEERA THAT PARAMASHIVATVA, PARAMASHIVA GADHI, PARAMA PADHA IS THE ONLY GOAL. *TILL THEN, YOU CAN ENJOY WHAT COMES IN THE WAY, NOTHING WRONG. YOU CAN ENJOY, BUT DON'T BE STUCK. YOU CAN SIT IN THE COUCH, BUT DON'T PUT SEAT BELT! *HAVE YOUR BEAUTIFUL PURITY. IN VILLAGES, WHEN THEY CUT the JACKFRUIT, THEY WILL APPLY CASTOR OIL ON THE HAND, SO THAT THE GUM IN THE JACKFRUIT WILL NOT GET STUCK IN THE HAND AND MAKE IT MESSY. *POUR CASTOR OIL EVERYDAY IN YOUR SYSTEM. THE NEGATIVE PATTERNS IN YOUR BIO MEMORY WILL NOT GET STUCK IN YOUR INTERNAL ORGANS. IT MAY LOOK VERY FUNNY BUT DO IT, YOU WILL UNDERSTAND. IN THE BHAGAVAD GITA, CHAPTER 18 SHLOKA 55, IT SAYS: भक्त्या मामभिजानाति यावान्यश्चास्मि तत्त्वतः। ततो मां तत्त्वतो ज्ञात्वा विशते तदनन्तरम्।। BHAKTYĀ MĀMABHIJĀNĀTI YĀVĀNYAŚCĀSMI TATTVATAḤ. TATO MĀṂ TATTVATO JÑĀTVĀ VIŚATE TADANANTARAM.. TRANSLATION: BY DEVOTION HE KNOWS ME IN REALITY, WHAT AND WHO I AM; THEN HAVING KNOWN ME IN REALITY, HE FORTHWITH ENTERS INTO THE SUPREME. *YOU SHOULD KNOW, PARAMASHIVATVA, PARAMASHIVA GADHI, PARAMA PADHAM, IS YOUR ONLY GOAL! *EVERYTHING ELSE IS OK ON THE WAY TO ENJOY BUT NOT TO GET STUCK. *I WANT ALL OF YOU TO UNDERSTAND: ANYONE WHO DECIDES TO BE DHEERA, THE PURE PARAMASHIVA STATE STARTS BLESSING YOU, SUPPORTING YOU, GUIDING YOU, AND STARTS MANIFESTING ITSELF INSIDE YOU. *DECIDE WITH DHEERA, ‘OH MAHADEVA! PARAMASHIVA! I BELONG TO YOU. I WANT ONLY YOU TO MANIFEST IN ME. LET ME NOT GET STUCK WITH ANYTHING ELSE.’ *WITH THIS, THE MOMENT YOU APPLY FOR VISA TO PARAMASHIVA FOR KAILASA, HE STARTS LOOKING AT YOU, NOT JUST FOR ISSUING VISA, BUT HOW TO GET YOU TO KAILASA AS A CITIZEN AND TRAIN YOU TO BECOME HIM, AND MERGING YOU INTO HIM. *YOU PLAN FOR KAILASA VISA, HE PLANS FOR MAKING YOU PARAMASHIVA! *YOU LOOK AT HIM FOR VISA, HE LOOKS AT YOU AS SHIVA! *THESE INITIATIONS I AM GOING TO SHOWER ON ALL OF YOU WILL BE SO INTENSE, SO ENERGETIC, SO ALIVE, MANIFESTING POWERS, JOY, ECSTASY, THAT POVERTY WILL NOT BE YOUR PROBLEM, RATHER, LUXURY WILL BE YOUR PROBLEM! DISEASE WILL NOT BE YOUR PROBLEM, RATHER, HYPERACTIVE ENERGY WILL BE YOUR PROBLEM! *DON’T STOP TILL YOU REACH PARAMASHIVATVA. *LET ME EXPLAIN DHEERA! ONLY IF I MAKE YOU DHEERA, ALL MY 36 PRINCIPLES DEFINITION WILL BE USEFUL FOR YOU. OTHERWISE, IT WILL BE USELESS FOR YOU. IN TIRUMANDIRAM, 1536th VERSE: சிவகதி யேகதி மற்றுள்ள எல்லாம் பவகதி பாசப் பிறவியொன் றுண்டு தவகதி தன்னொடு நேரொன்று தோன்றில் அவகதி மூவரும் அவ்வகை யாமே. 1536 SHIVA GADHIYE GADHI MATRULLA YELLAAM BAVA GADHI PAASA PIRAVI ONDRUNDU TAVA GADHI TANNODU NERONDRU THONDRIL AVA GADHI MOOVARUM AVVAGAI YAAME TRANSLATION: SHIVAGATHI ALONE LEADS TO TO ETERNAL LIBERATION SHIVAGATHI ALONE IS THE ULTIMATE PATH; ALL OTHER STATES, GATHIS - PATHS WILL =LEAD ONLY TO THE CYCLE OF BIRTH AND DEATH; BONDAGE COMES BACK TO YOU; ANYTHING OTHER THAN SHIVA GADHI SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED. WITH YOUR PENANCE, TAPASYA, PUNYA, CHOOSE ONLY SHIVA GADHI, NOT ANYTHING ELSE. ANYTHING ELSE WILL LEAD ONLY TO THREE MALAS - IMPURITIES AND BONDAGE, BIRTH AND DEATH CYCLE, DELUSION. *FUNDAMENTAL QUALIFICATION FOR ANYONE TO BE PART OF KAILASA IS DEFINITE DHEERATVA - BEING FEROCIOUS WITH YOURSELF, ‘I WILL ACHIEVE ONLY SHIVA GADHI. ANYTHING WHICH COMES ON THE WAY IS OK, BUT I WILL NOT BE STUCK OR STOP WITH IT. I WILL NOT BE CONSCIOUSLY DECIDING TO CHERISH, ENTERTAIN, ENGAGE OR BE WITH THOSE INTERMEDIARY STATES, SPACES, POSTS, LUXURITES, COMFORTS. *SHIVA GADHI IS THE GADHI! SHIVA PADHAM SHIVATVAM PARAMASHIVATVA PARAMASHIVA GADHI PARAMASHIVA PADHAM *WITH THIS PARAMASHIVA PADHAM, PARAMASHIVA GADHI, PARAMASHIVATVA - KEEPING THIS AS GOAL WITH DHEERATVA, WITH FEROCIOUSNESS AND COURAGE, IF YOU START UNDERSTANDING THE 36 TATTVAS, YOU WILL START MANIFESTING POWERS IMMEDIATELY. *THAT IS WHY PATANJALI TEACHES SAMADHI PADA FIRST. THEN HE TEACHES ALL THE OTHER PADAS. *I WILL CONTINUE TO EXPAND ON THE 36 TATTVAS IN FURTHER SATSANGS. *ONLY WHEN YOU UNDERSTAND THE ULTIMATENESS OF PARAMASHIVA AND DECIDE TO BE WITH THAT, YOU CAN BE PART OF KAILASA ADMINISTRATION OR HINDU PARLIAMENT. SO FIRST I AM DOING WHAT NEEDS TO BE DONE FIRST! *SO SIT STRAIGHT. LET US ALL ENTER INTO PARAMASHIVATVA, MANIFEST PARAMASHIVA GADHI AND PARAMASHIVATVA. *I HAVE A SHASTRA PRAMANA FOR YOU ON DHEERA FROM THE SRIMAD BHAGAVATAM, 3RD SKANDHA, 6TH ADHYAYA, 45TH SLOKA - तथापरे चात्मसमाधियोगबलेन जित्वा प्रकृतिं बलिष्ठाम् । त्वामेव धीराः पुरुषं विशन्ति TATHĀPARE CĀTMASAMĀDHIYOGABALENA JITVĀ PRAKṚTIṂ BALIṢṬHĀM TVĀMEVA DHĪRĀḤ PURUṢAṂ VIŚANTI TRANSLATION: THE DHEERAS, BY THEIR SHEER POWER OF SAMADHI - ALWAYS BEING IN ONENESS WITH THEIR TRUE SELF - THE PURE CONSCIOUSNESS, CONQUER THE POWERFUL PRAKRITI - THE WHOLE MANIFEST WORLD AND ALSO THEIR OWN ANTAH KARANA - INNER SPACE WHICH ARE INFLUENCED BY THE THREE GUNAS - SATTVA, RAJAS, AND TAMAS AND ULTIMATELY INDEED ENTER INTO YOU OH LORD! *WE WILL NOW ENTER INTO THE PARAMASHIVA GANAS MEETING WITH THE COMMITTED BRAHMANAS, KSHATRIYAS, VAISHYAS AND SHUDRAS. Read the full post here: https://www.facebook.com/138595819561610/posts/4283922591695558/

[texanredrose]

Hey, so, I answered that ask a bit ago about the fics I write that will never be published. Well, I’ve been in a Bee’s Schnee mood lately and I actually wanna talk about one of these stories because I really like it but won’t publicly release it. So, like, check beneath the cut for rambling. Also, warning for Omegaverse and NSFW mentions. Plus some dark elements.

So, like, this story was written back before we discovered Mama Schnee 1) was alive and 2) was the actual Schnee, not Jacques. Also, this took the ‘hereditary semblance’ thing to a logical extreme. Important notes.

The whole premise is based on the fact that every Schnee is an Alpha. Winter’s an Alpha, Jacques (who is a blood Schnee) is an Alpha, Grandpa Schnee was an Alpha, all the way down the line. Weiss, however, is not, and she’s hidden this fact her whole life to the point of illegally obtaining suppressants and lying on her admissions forms to continue the facade that she’s just like every other Schnee. This becomes a problem when it rolls around the Heat Week, which is essentially a week where Beacon locks up all the Alphas in their rooms and the Betas in the training rooms so the Omegas can experience their heat without the need to worry about unwanted pregnancies (due to some concerns about the long term effects of suppressants being taken for every heat and yada yada, accept the handwave for what it is). Now, Weiss, having lied about her status, is locked in her dorm room with Yang and Blake, who are both Alphas in this (Ruby’s a Beta and is off with them). It rapidly becomes apparent that, ya know, Weiss is an Omega and is going into heat and trapped in a room with two Alphas, both of whom she’s crushing on, and Yang and Blake begin arguing with each other and at one point actually fighting due to their primal instincts overriding their sense. Weiss breaks them up, of course, but it’s a really tense and awkward situation up until Weiss lets it slip that she likes both of them, and Yang and Blake agree to share Weiss as a mate, if she’s willing. Which, of course, she is! And then the sexy times happen. A lot. Because they still have, like, three days locked in the room by this point and they’re going to take advantage of that. It’s just a full on smutfest. This event happens just a month before the Vytal Festival, which happens exactly like in canon. Realizing Weiss and Yang are in danger, Blake leaves, telling a semi-conscious Yang to keep Weiss safe while she goes to deal with Adam. Yang, however, isn’t coherent to hear the whole message and thinks Blake is taking Weiss away to keep her safe from Adam. Qrow- not knowing that Weiss is Yang’s mate and with two injured and unconscious nieces- spirits Yang away before Weiss can say otherwise, leaving Weiss alone to return to Atlas with her father.

---

Flash forward 5 years (to the second installment), and Yang’s fully recovered from her injury and spent the past three years fighting through a sea of Grimm, searching Remnant for any sign of Blake or Weiss. She’s mad- she’s pissed- and she’s taken down entire hordes and even a few White Fang strongholds across Vale and Vacuo with her bare hands in her search. She eventually ends up back at Beacon’s ruins on the 5th anniversary of the Fall, in a weird way coming to pay respects. There, she encounters Blake, who succeeded in not only killing Adam but in taking control of the White Fang in Menagerie and Mistral, turning them into an army that helps Ruby’s quest to find and destroy Salem. Salem isn’t Blake’s priority, however, as ever since she encountered Ruby, she’s been looking for Yang, hoping to be reunited with Yang and Weiss after ensuring Adam would never be able to hurt them. This is when the misunderstanding comes to light, both angry at the other for failing to ensure Weiss was safe, and devolving into a battle between them, showcasing their new strengths and abilities gained after 5 years fighting through an upside down world. This draws the attention of Atlesian Knights and Paladins, however these aren’t the same ones from the Fall, the symbol of Atlas removed in favor of a cracked Schnee snowflake. One of the Paladins has a monitor built into the chest, which flicks on the reveal Winter, who orders both Blake and Yang onto a nearby airship if they want to see Weiss. The two comply, flown to a remote part of Mantle where a facility has been converted into a fortress, surrounded by more of the Atlesian defenses with the broken snowflake emblem. They are met by a highly disgruntled Winter, who threatens to kill them both unless they follow her orders exactly, warning them to not interfere with what they’d about to witness. They’re then led into an expansive training room where two four-year-olds are armed with small swords, facing off against hardlight enemies until an Atlesian Knight appears. Although the children initially look ready to take on the threat, they both falter, and both Blake and Yang are restrained by Winter’s glyphs when they attempt to intervene. When it becomes clear the children won’t be able to defeat the Knight, a giant white sword manifest as Weiss’ summoned knight destroys the threat, revealing that Weiss has been watching from a different vantage point, using a staff to summon as she’s confined to a wheelchair. She calls the children to her- Zise and Noire (which, y’all might recognize from Odd One Out and Handle With Care, the names of the Bee’s Schnee twins, this is actually their first appearance as this was the first story I wrote to feature them) and encourages them, assuring them they did well and better than the last time, even if they couldn’t stop their final opponent. At this point, Winter releases Blake and Yang, allowing them to make their presence known, and Weiss introduces them to Noire and Zise, their respective children. As it turns out, having two mates caused her body to accommodate the innate need for children from both her mates, resulting in carrying twins who have different fathers. Weiss encourages the children to get to know Blake and Yang, sending them outside to play with the promise Blake and Yang will soon join them. Weiss, however, holds her mates there a while longer, explaining that she’s been sick for quite some time and will likely die soon. Her condition made it impossible for her to go looking for them herself, so she had to rely on Winter’s deployment of Knights and Paladins- the facility they’ve converted into a fortress is an old Atlesian Military Production plant they got back into working order, creating their own army to defend against the Grimm and their father. With her end fast approaching, her only concern is ensuring the safety of Noire and Zise, and she’s more than willing for Blake and Yang to become their primary caretakers, but only if the children agree; otherwise, they’re going with Winter, whom they already trust. Weiss refuses any attempt to mend bridges in favor of urging Blake and Yang to get to know their children before it’s too late. As Yang tries to bond with Zise and Blake tries with Noire, they find the twins have two very distinct personalities, and seeing as only the other can understand how they feel regarding the current situation, confide in one another and slowly mend their broken relationship. Weiss, however, is a much different story, obviously getting weaker to the point she’s almost bedridden, which worries everyone. Despite her reluctance, though, Blake and Yang eventually get her to talk, and discover that, after being forced back to Atlas, her father found out about her mating marks- and her pregnancy. Rather than disprove entirely, though, he saw this as a chance for something greater: access to the Branwen semblance. With Zise having both Schnee and Branwen blood in her veins, he believed her combat ability would be astronomical, making her a valued asset and a key bargaining chip for absolute power. (The idea being that the Branwen bloodline has semblances that center on redirecting damage; if Zise was able to either avoid damage or channel it into making her summons stronger, she’d be unstoppable. Hint: he’s right.) Once the twins were born, Jacques offered Weiss a deal: he would allow Noire to live if she gave Zise to him or he’d kill them both. To protect her children, she fought him, but Jacques used a new type of weapon- a sword that broke after stabbing through her stomach. While her aura healed the wound- or appeared to- the wound caused her current condition and has been slowly killing her this whole while. Unbeknownst to Weiss, the weapon didn’t feed on Dust, but actually siphoned away the aura of whoever it was used against, and the part that broke off inside of her is still functioning, slowly draining her life. Unfortunately, the airship that brought Blake and Yang to the fortress was spotted by more than a few people, and one of those people happens to work for Jacques, prompting him to bring the full might of the SDC private military own upon the fortress. In the ensuing battle, Weiss begs Blake and Yang to take Noire and Zise away, to keep them safe from Jacques, while she pours the last bit of her strength into helping Winter fight off the assault. Blake and Yang, of course, can’t abandon Weiss a second time, and instead hide the twins away while Yang uses an emergency broadcast code she’s been saving to get in touch with Ruby, leaving it with the twins in the hopes that, if the worst comes to pass, Ruby will find them and keep the twins safe. Then, Blake and Yang go back in to deal with Jacques’ forces, as the man himself faces off against Weiss again. With her mobility hampered, she can only use her semblance, which is depleting her already low aura even faster, killing her quicker, and though she puts up an admirable fight, her injuries are too much to overcome. Blake and Yang intervene before Jacques can deliver the killing blow, and here it’s proven than the Branwen bloodline can rival the Schnee bloodline in pure power, as every summon Jacques sends against Yang shatters while trying to hurt her, and each blow just makes her stronger. He can’t even hold her in place, as she detaches and reattaches her prosthetic- using rocket propellant and homing technology she perfected over the past few years- to keep pressing the attack. Blake, meanwhile, is dealing with the hired thugs and the Knights and Paladins, eventually causing a full scale retreat after being heavily injured. While Winter deals with the stragglers, Blake returns and Yang quite nearly kills Jacques, but he manages to turn the tables, targeting Weiss and Blake to draw Yang’s attention away. Weiss, using all the strength she has remaining, summons her knight and kills Jacques before he can attack Yang, but falls unconscious immediately after. As Blake and Yang try to transfer their own aura into Weiss to save her, two airships arrive: one bearing Ruby and others, responding to the broadcast, and the other with Terry and the ARRT. While Winter allows both to land- recognizing Ruby from Weiss’ descriptions and pictures and assuming Terry came to help- and follows Ruby to recover the twins, her old friend has come for a very different reason. Terry, along with their team, find Blake and Yang, knocking them both unconscious as Terry instructs Dal to cut Weiss open, allowing Terry to retrieve the missing pieces of the weapon, which is what they came for because, yeah, they’re a villain in this one, too. Winter and Ruby find the twins amid the smoldering remains of Knights and Paladins, having fought their way from their hiding spot back into the facility to find their parents. Only then does Winter realize Terry’s intentions, coming upon the scene of the three and, with Ruby’s help, loading them up and heading to Patch, the last safe haven afforded them. Blake and Yang wake sometime later, in Yang’s bedroom at her childhood home, both confused as to what happened. Ruby finds them awake and calls throughout the house, prompting Noire and Zise to come charging into the room, clambering onto the beds and giving their respective fathers hugs. Although Blake and Yang are relieved to see the twins, they’re worried about whether or not Weiss survived. Much to everyone’s relief, she did, as the removal of the weapon fragments allowed her aura to return, and medicine given by Aegean after the fragments were recollected bolstered her innate healing ability. Winter’s been broody the past few days, of course, unsure what to make of her best friend showing up only to retrieve the weapon fragments while also ensuring her sister would live, but that’s a question they can answer later, as Ruby explains the fight against Salem is still ongoing and she needs her old team’s help. Although reluctant to leave their children behind, Weiss, Blake, and Yang realize that they won’t be safe until Salem is defeated, and agree to leave the twins in Grandpa Tai’s care until the war’s won.

---

So, the first installment in this AU is just ‘smut for the sake of smut’ and the second installment is ‘what do the words “mother” and “father” really mean?’ and yes, I am absolutely ridiculous, you should know this by now. There’s also an AU version of this where the first installment happens as described, save for two important differences: Schnees are always Omegas (Weiss pretended to be an Alpha to prove she was nothing like her mother, the blood Schnee who didn’t quite live up to the name) and instead of splitting up after the Fall, Blake and Weiss go with Qrow to Patch, and Blake, Weiss, and Yang stay there while Weiss goes through her pregnancy, Yang works through adapting to the prosthetic, and Blake obsesses over decoding White Fang transmissions in order to track down Adam’s whereabouts. When the twins are born, Mama Schnee comes to visit Patch, revealing another hereditary quirk of the Schnees: every Schnee bears twins. However, only the ‘stronger’ twin is allowed to survive; usually, the ‘weaker’ twin is stillborn but, in cases where both twins survive birth, the mother must kill the weaker twin herself, just as Willow did with Winter’s, Weiss’, and Whitley’s twins. Later on, it’s revealed that this isn’t true at all; Willow’s parents passed away when she was relatively young and Jacques forged a fake family history depicting the ‘murder one twin’ thing in order to break Willow mentally so he could control the company, which worked, as he took advantage of the fact that Willow’s twin tragically died when she was young. When Willow discovers the deception and that she was tricked into murdering her children, she loses her fucking mind and kills Jacques before disappearing, essentially running off into the mountains to slay Grimm and vent her relentless fury. She’s so efficient that Salem actually notices how many Grimm are being killed and it inadvertently helps RWBY make their final assault against her.

[throtegote]

Yung Waitloz (2012 me’s rapper name)

(If you’d like to read this off my wix blog here’s the link: https://erikatriesall.wixsite.com/tlhodia)

If you get triggered by topics concerning body image and weight loss then proceed with caution or don’t proceed at all.

I probably discuss way too much personal stuff online, but hey, who doesn’t appreciate a little oversharing every once in a while?

I have never been skinny or slim, let’s start there. Sure, I was a tiny baby, but that was about it. I have always been bigger than a lot of my classmates and even now I’m in no way built like a Victoria’s Secret model. Also, keep in mind that I’ve never been clinically obese or severely overweight. Got it? Cool.

Enter My Mom. She has been on my case to lose weight for as long as I remember. I admit, there were times when I was particularly chonky, but that’s beside the point. I remember being 8-9 years old when she spent over 15 minutes ridiculing and calling me out on how my spandex gym tights made noises as my thighs rubbed together during our uphill walk around the residential estate. She was also and still is, fond of pinching my “love-handles” (in quotes because if I remember “You can’t even call them love handles because you have nobody loving you.”),  with her long-ass, sharp nails whenever they appeared over the waistband of my pants.

(I’m not bitter or anything)

Essentially, 8-year-old me was told to lose weight enough times to try. I ate the food they gave me, and only what they gave me, and went on walks occasionally with My Mom (which I despised because I really didn’t leave the comfort of my room to be berated by my birth giver). I even started taking netball more seriously and started athletics training. What I also started doing was paying close attention to the bodies of girls around me and playing spot the difference. Not too long afterwards I learned to hate clothes shopping and hide in group photos. When I look through photo albums and my parent’s phone galleries now, it’s plain to see that I was an Olympic grade camera dodger.

Fast forward a few years. Now I’m 11-12 years old. I’ve grown taller and older, so my weight distribution has changed, but I’m still not skinny. My Mom is still on me to lose weight, even more so now that I’m older and maturing into “womanhood” because apparently, it is a crime to wear pants only a few sizes smaller than your mother of similar body structure and lesser height. Now that I’m older and more educated, I’ve realized that even though I was playing a sport and jogging and going for aerobics with my mom occasionally, I won’t get skinny unless I change my diet. In fact, there was a time when some government nurses came to do regional health checks at school and some data included body weight (there was a crowd around me when it was my turn to hop on the scale. The boys laughed, I went to the bathroom and cried. But it’s all good). The nurses then asked me questions about stuff like the bread we had at home, if I ate junk food or added sugar, stuff like that. That’s when it clicked. It clicked real hard.

A typical school lunch packed by My Mom comprised a hotdog/ham sandwich/homemade burger, a packet of chips/crisps and a juice box or Tropica when she was feeling generous. Which is what my brothers and a lot of my friends were packing to school with no problems: but I’m not built like those people so I can’t eat like them, right? The lunch had to go. And go it did. And so did pretty much all my other regular meals.

If My Mom was distracted with getting ready for work, I’d ditch breakfast and lie about it, then hop onto the school bus. Getting rid of the stuff in my lunchbox wasn’t too difficult to do because I had friends who were happy to help. This meant that for the first 12 hours of the day all I had was a juice box or nothing at all. It worked. My Mom noticed and complimented my improved physique along with a handful of relatives. But was I skinny? Not even.

Then came the Google searches. “How to lose weight quickly” “How to get skinny” “How to get a thigh gap” “How to lose thigh fat fast” Just to name a few.

That’s when I discovered the infamous pro-anorexia community. Or should I say that’s when they found me? I’m not too sure.

Over the school holidays, I started with the so-called “K-pop” diets and did YouTube workouts every night with more consistency than my prayer life. Two boiled eggs for breakfast, some milk for lunch (which was disastrous because apparently, I’m lactose intolerant), and for dinner… water, with or without lemon or tea. It really depended on the day. Not that hard to get away with, really. When the fat girl says they’re not hungry, who are you to force them?

But I couldn’t lose weight fast enough. Sure, slowly killing myself was working, but was I skinny? Nah.

So, I turned to “thinspo” and “pretty girl diet” challenges and "pro-ana" coaches to guide me. (If you're somebody who thinks it's okay to coax children into dangerous eating disorders and potentially death, you deserve a chair. But make it electric. Periodt.) My stomach was flattening, and my pants came on a lot easier, but the truth was I was utterly miserable. Getting skinny was all I thought about. And I’m not talking about Victoria’s Secret model skinny, I got to a point where I was jealous of the science lab skeleton, no jokes. Food wasn’t food anymore; it was just numbers and macros. I was always dizzy and cranky and my hair was falling out and even though I had done it for long enough to overcome the hunger pangs, there was a new pain, one that manifested in my chest and couldn’t be treated with sleep or Panado. I was the only one on holiday for three months, so nobody noticed.

I was twelve when I first tried to off myself with prescription drugs. All because I couldn’t be skinny and in my head that meant I couldn’t be pretty, or loved, or befriended. I woke up after a 8-hour “nap” to find that nothing had changed.

Why am I exposing myself by telling this story?

If you’re a parent or sibling or anyone who cares for a child who you think needs to lose weight for whatever reason (hopefully for health-related reasons, not purely aesthetics), please do not leave them to their own devices. They will search for authoritative guidance elsewhere, and the wrong people may find them. People who prescribe oxygen as a meal plan and perpetuate the notion that if you can pinch at your flesh, then you are ugly and will remain ugly until you are feather-light. Despite being one of the smartest kids in my grade, I still fell for it. (Update: I’m still not skinny. I probably only fucked up my metabolism and lost hair. -100/10, would not recommend to my worst enemy.)

Good news is at some point I got sick and tired of feeling the way I did. My suicide attempt failed miserably but instead of trying again, I uninstalled all my calorie counter and fitness apps, tossed all my magazines in the trash and talked to my mom and made it a point to talk to friends more, especially those who understood in some way or another. The Body Positivity movement was rising, and that helped a lot. Big ups to all the lovely people on YouTube who post videos on #recovery.

But experiences like this don’t just go away. You don’t forget and move on. I still have relapses, I still feel insurmountable guilt after eating, I still feel like I would rather eat baked rat than gain weight, I still go through binge-restrict cycles. All stemming from events that happened over 8 years ago.

My Mom had some level of good intention, I won't disregard that. People on her side of the family suffer from chronic illnesses that can all be prevented if not managed better through proper diet and exercise and she doesn't want her kids developing high blood pressure at age 13. Fine, I get it. But damn.

If you can avoid doing this to yourself or someone impressionable in your life, please do. Model healthy behaviours for your kids to adopt and talk health; not snatched waistlines, not thigh gaps nor scale readings. Teach your kids not to base the entirety of their worth on their appearance. And do not, under any circumstances, body shame them.

Please?

Once again, a lot of what is here is based on personal experience and opinion (‘coz it’s my blog, duh’). If you have separate ideas or any disagreements, bring them up in the comments or email me. I love a good debate.

Also, if you currently relate to anything mentioned in this post, take this as your sign to get better. Trust me, you're worth it.

xoxo

Erika

[darkhymns-fic]

Hollowed

Lloyd would make sure to stay by her side, even when everyone said she was already gone.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel, Raine Sage, Genis Sage Rating: G Mirror Links: AO3 Notes: For Tales Whump Week, Day 7, “Stay with Me.” Bit of a tragic romance, fair warning. (I’m sorry).

It was Lloyd’s role to help make camp for the night.

He would find a place underneath the wide-branched trees, the moonlight seeping through the space between the leaves. He’d make sure to put out the campfire when it was time, stomping out the ash and in turn, the smoke. He’d roll out their sleeping packs, always making two, although one would remain virtually unwrinkled by morning. He’d feed Noishe when the dog-creature came back from his wanderings, scratching behind his ears, Lloyd brightly smiling as he did so.

Once all that was done, Lloyd would look forward, to where Colette stood, staring out into the night sky. The soft hue from her wings would paint the grass beneath her, making the stalks turn dark violet. Before he called out to her, he would always hesitate.

“Colette, we should go to bed now.”

But she’d been awake for the past three years.

Genis once told him it was hard to look at her face for very long. The flat plateau of red that gazed out from those eyes only made the heart slow. Time was meaningless for Colette, so anyone who looked at her felt that same meaningless reach out to them, leaving them stranded in silence and monotony.

Lloyd couldn’t really understand such a feeling. Why look away? Doing so would only leave Colette alone.

He watched her come to him, footsteps even, her hair barely lifted by the air. She was framed by her wings, which she rarely dismissed. As if the eyes were not enough of a reminder.

“There’s supposed to be a bunch of Exsphere traders to the south,” Lloyd told her, stretching out the blankets a bit more. The night was cold, so he kept his jacket buttoned around him tight. “Somewhere near Triet. Remember? I wonder if they have that old poster of me somewhere…”

Colette said nothing. Instead she knelt on the grass before him, her eyes fixated on his movements.

“I guess they’d have gotten rid of it by now.” He sat down as well, then tried to call Noishe over. But the dog fidgeted, scurrying back to the trees as much as possible. “We haven’t been there for a while…” He turned back to Colette to smile at her. “Kind of exciting, huh?”

Colette’s eyes were full of crimson and reflected starlight.

.

.

.

There were four moments when Lloyd felt the world around him falling away. And one where he decided against it.

The first was when she stepped away from him and said goodbye. After that, neither a failed necklace, an old dwarf’s failing hands, nor weakening hopes could change the inevitable. Colette’s soul was lost, and in her place was a marionette, motivated by the guidance of others and self-preservation written into her core.

It was enough to have her break Pronyma’s arms in two in that parallel world. Raine had explained that Colette’s basic instincts must have thought the woman was reaching out to strangle her. Her voice had been shaking just as much as Lloyd’s heart did, remembering the loud crack and the Grand Cardinal’s screams. It had even been enough to quiet down Zelos for a few hours.

In Sybak, Kratos had come to Lloyd alone. “You should leave it be.”

That was before, when hope still kindled in his chest. “Why? So you and Cruxis can take her?”

Lloyd’s hands had been on his sword hilts. Kratos made no similar motion. His face showed much of nothing, keeping him as unreadable as the day they first met. “Do not get your hopes up. Sometimes we lose something precious, and nothing can be done about it.”

In the hotel they stayed at, Colette would stare out the window, the light of her wings shining like a beacon, lost in fog.

The second was when a new face came to share the grief. Someone who had never known that Colette could still laugh after a brutal fall, or wave away certain greens from her dinner plate.

That face was Zelos, one that shared Colette’s status, if not her ultimate destiny. His nickname for her seemed more cruel than anything else. There was no need for reminders – her wings, always manifested, were enough. He once tried to sidle up to her, teeth wide in a grin, as he bestowed upon her a shower of compliments that made Lloyd’s head stir with static. Just before he could tell the other to cram it, Zelos walked ahead, eyes lowered, lips twisted with something that Lloyd hesitated to call a smile.

Then there came more. With Presea, the engulfing presence of silence, of walking death, was becoming harder to ignore. Yet even Presea would speak, no matter how hollow her throat was, and she took no offense to Genis holding her hand as they both traversed a fallen log in the Gaoracchia forest. Lloyd could only look to Colette, watching her avoid the obstacle with her wings, and his hands would clench.

Genis and Raine would speak of Colette, of who she used to be, to each new face that joined their quest. To explain away the loss of a friend is difficult, even more so when they were standing just behind your shoulder. Not that Lloyd would ever say she was lost – merely absent, sleeping, waiting for someone to wake her up. He listened to their explanations, and it never felt enough.

Regal was the only new face that spoke with him directly. “She means much to you, doesn’t she?”

They got the ore from the mine that night. Ideas flitted through Lloyd’s mind as he wondered how he could coax Colette to borrow her necklace. Or perhaps make a new one, one that was better, one that would actually work despite his lacking skills. “We’ll get her back.”

Regal seemed to know when to end conversations. He didn’t press on and instead said, “Thank you for helping Presea as well.”

“I have to save the people in front of me,” Lloyd answered him.

When did he become such a liar?

The third was at the Iselian Ranch, when Colette, the girl who sliced through Desians without remorse, did the unthinkable.

No one understood why she would put herself in harm’s way. Perhaps it was the bubbling of the world’s mana as Sheena prepared the cannon, messing with the crystal’s hold on her. Lloyd was as surprised as anyone that she rushed in front of Forcystus’ weapon, taking the brunt of his shot. His hands still ached from the strain of plunging his sword deep in the half-elf’s torso.

It was pure luck finding out about Colette’s sickness, the crystal eating up her skin. Raine theorized that perhaps this was her self-preservation at work, revealing her problem because she innately knew that they would do something about it. Lloyd had to bite his lip to keep from shouting at her, speaking of Colette as if she wasn’t right here with them. She wasn’t dead, no matter how much everyone else might have wished that.

Then Zelos made the mistake of speaking. “Well, least she ain’t really bothered by it.”

Genis was only successful in holding back Lloyd from throwing a second punch.

The fourth was back at the tower, further gone, and crueler than the last.

The only reason Lloyd knew anything about Martel was because of Colette. The stories she would tell him, learned from her Church lessons, the soft recitations of prayers he would hear her speak beneath her breath, and the awe in her eyes of knowing the benevolence of such a Goddess. It was only through Colette’s mouth that Martel ever seemed important.

He had fought his way through the tower, and then Colette stepped out of that small chamber, her wings vanished and her steps no longer so autonomous. Yggdrasill had been radiant, hands reaching out, draped in blinding light. Colette’s eyes squinted from the strain, her mouth shaped in an o. She pressed one hand against her chest, each motion of her so human and so real that Lloyd was ready to rush to her, to make sure that nothing of her left was still as rigid as steel.

Then when she spoke, a different voice left her throat.

After Yggdrasill vanished and Colette went back to being motionless, pink and violet sparkling from beyond her head, Lloyd hadn’t realized how much he had been crying since then.

The now single world moved on, but Colette never shifted.

Lloyd took her to his home once everything was done with. Kratos had been seated by the table, leg still aching. “What will you do now?” he asked his son.

Behind him, Lloyd could hear his dwarven father continue his metalsmithing, unmindful to the turbulence of the world for the past couple of days. His dedication to his commissions was almost to a fault. “Me and Colette will be gathering the Exspheres.”

Kratos’ impassivity broke slightly. He looked pained. Lloyd could hear the words waiting on the man’s breath. She could join with me and the others, on Derris-Kharlan.

“Colette loved Sylvarant,” he said quickly. “I think she’d rather be here.”

When Raine and Genis visited later, they were a little more forceful.

“Lloyd, I really don’t think this is a good idea.” Genis sat at the same table, fingers tapping the surface. Colette was seated next to him, back straight, her gaze boring into the wall across from her. “You remember that fighting with her was always like walking on eggshells, right?”

Whenever someone got too close, especially as they swung a weapon, Colette would lash out. She could only stay back, summoning her spells, a wide berth of emptiness around her.

“She’s getting better,” Lloyd stated, carefully sheathing both his fathers’ swords. The pit of his stomach was cold. “She’s already more used to people now.”

“Wishful thinking,” Raine countered back. “Lloyd. You should come with us. You can still find Exspheres as we move along. What Colette needs now is an environment where she won’t be challenged into her defensive measures at every possible opportunity.”

Lloyd’s voice grew hard. “She can’t go home.” He saw Frank and Phaidra’s faces. Their young daughter and granddaughter might as well have been dead to them. It’s easier when you thought of someone dead instead of suffering, he realized. “And I won’t have Kratos take her. What if she finally wakes up and she finds herself all alone with strangers?”

“I thought we explained this to you.” There was condescension in Raine’s voice that he hadn’t heard since he was in the classroom. “Her soul is highly likely to be gone now. There is no one left in there to wake. Come with us.”

He hated himself for being tempted.

Genis stood, making his way around the table to get near Lloyd’s side. “Seriously, Lloyd. We tried everything. Maybe just-”

He had to go around Colette to do so though.

His body had slightly brushed against her shoulder. She turned, fingers wrapped around the chakram’s blade, and wound her arm back to strike. Lloyd rushed on top of the table, tackling Colette to the ground before she could slice open Genis’ neck. Raine gathered her little brother in her arms, scuttling them both to the front door. Both were pale.

“Colette!” Lloyd kept his arms around her as he held her from behind, locking her shoulder. “It’s okay! It’s fine!”

“Lloyd, get away from her!” Raine frantically searched for her staff, which she had left standing outside the home.

“No! It’s alright! Colette!” He embraced her tightly, face buried in the back of her hair. She moved violently, smashing him near the stove. Pans and vases fell around them. “No one’s going to hurt you! I’m here, okay? No one will ever hurt you!”

Then she had stopped.

The sudden stillness was more frightening than her movements from before. Hands lowered, and she laid back against Lloyd’s chest, looking up at the ceiling. Broken pieces of crockery fell around them like the mistakes of a watercolor painting. Genis and Raine didn’t dare to move forward.

All the while, Lloyd relaxed his grip, then placed one hand against Colette’s head. His breath nearly choked him.

“Everything’s okay,” he told her, ignoring his friends, attention only on her.

He would not let Colette fall away to nothing.

.

.

.

No one argued with Lloyd when he took her with him.

The last night before they set out, Colette had stood by Lloyd’s side. She seemed to watch over his shoulder as he got their supplies ready, as he talked with her, voice as light as it used to be. Dirk, more silent than he had been in years, took the boy aside.

“I’ve fixed up the nicks in your swords. Fully reinforced. Not even another mad god can damage them.” The dwarf held out the materia swords to his son, their dancing colors of red and azure slipping through their sheaths.

“Thanks,” Lloyd said, reaching for it until Dirk placed a thick hand over his.

“You come back whenever you need to. You and Colette. Understand?”

Lloyd recognized this. The same worry that had passed over Kratos’ face the last time he saw him before leaving. Only difference was that Kratos hadn’t uttered these words, knowing that he could not promise Lloyd anything else but a memory.

He nodded at the dwarf, and took the swords. “We’ll be okay. I promise.”

Lloyd wouldn’t leave Colette alone anymore.

So on that night they camped underneath the stars, Lloyd stayed beside her, reaching for her hand. It was cold, barely reacting to much at all. He kept his grip, intertwining their fingers together. If he kept looking up at the stars, he could imagine it was just like how they always used to be, back in Iselia. She would sit next to him on the grass, trying to match patterns in the sky, and she’d laugh while doing so.

But that’s what everyone did with Colette – look away, pretend she didn’t exist.

He turned to her, her gaze still hollow, but her hand never leaving his.

“Maybe I should have asked… if you wanted to come with me first.” A thumb rubbed against her palm, half-tracing words he was thinking. “Your family would still take care of you… and Kratos would, too. I guess he would know how to…” He paused, still looking at her. “But… I didn’t want that.”

The breeze had become sharp, the cold so deep that it made Lloyd shake. He reflexively reached for a blanket that he had folded up a bit messily, throwing it around both of their shoulders. Colette didn’t try to hunker down into it, and her side of the blanket kept slipping off her shoulder. The light of her wings slipped through the material, still hovering behind them, lighting up the grass in soft, dark hues.

“Ah, sorry,” he said, still looping the blanket on her until it finally stayed. “But I guess it wouldn’t –” he stopped himself before he could go on. He just kept the blankets on them both, bending his head slightly. He could see her eyes clearly, even in the night’s shadows. If he looked hard enough, then maybe.

Then maybe.

“I just wanted you to stay with me,” he said. So odd to just hear his voice and not hers. But she breathed. Just slightly, just barely. But she did, and she was alive. How could no one else see that? “I messed up everything, I didn’t protect you like I said… But I still want you to stay with me.”

If she had a voice, wouldn’t she say how she wanted to leave?

Only since that time he had calmed her down, had he ever been able to stay this close. Throughout most of the journey, there was only distance, because to get near was too risky. But every day, she walked beside him. And every night, she sat next to him, too. That had to have meant something.

This was around the time that he would go to sleep, and she would stay seated on the grass, her wings the last sight he would see before slumbering. But he didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to let go.

“I love you, Colette. I’m sorry I never said that earlier.” He leaned in just a bit more, forehead just barely touching hers. Her eyes stayed the same. “I’m sorry.”

Then she leaned forward, too.

It was only towards the crook of his neck, resting her head against his shoulder. Her eyes never blinked, or shift their gaze from always looking straight forward, but she had moved, her hair brushing his chin. Something tightened around his hand. It was her own.

It had all been so small. Every action of Colette’s was like that now, everything except when she fought against a threat. It was small, but it had felt so alive.

Lloyd wrapped his other arm around her back, keeping her close, the blanket shielding them from the cold. Tears left his eyes, falling against Colette’s cheek. She couldn’t cry anymore, so he would do it for the both of them.

Her hand stayed in his grip, still holding fast. She would stay, she would stay.

[ohmytheon]

Karma in Retrograde (6)

title: Karma in Retrograde

summary: When Dabi is struck by a de-aging quirk that regresses him to the most important part of his life, he finds himself turned back to a sixteen year-old U.A. General Studies student with a lot of self-esteem issues, parent problems, a destructive quirk that he can’t manage, and no memory of the five years that he’s lost - not the mention the fact that his little brother is now the same age as him and one of the top students in the U.A. hero course. In U.A.’s attempt to make up for what they missed and help the Dabi of the past, present, and future, he is placed with the only students that know him and have yet to find out what truly makes the difference between a hero and a villain. There, they must face the question of whether he can change or if his destiny is already set in stone.

– Chapter 6: Ryouta confronts Endeavor, his father. It gets ugly.

Lanni notes: I can say with full confidence that all of your comments have us LIVING and keep us inspired to write more, so thank you for everything. This chapter is an emotional tour de france and I enjoyed the hell out of writing it. One thing that should be said: As much as I don't like Endeavor, he's not strictly evil or bad, no matter how Ryouta views him. It's all about context, yo, and how you remember things. The song used for this chapter is "Wolf in Sheep's Clothing" by Set It Off.

Tell me how you're sleeping easy How you're only thinking of yourself Show me how you justify

Four years had passed for his father since they’d seen each other, while it had only been a few weeks for Ryouta. The distance between them didn’t hide the few obvious signs that Endeavor had grown older, but the flames he used for his pro hero costume hid them well. It was a different costume, too. He must have updated it after becoming the number one hero. His changed ranking still confused Ryouta. No one had told him what had happened to All Might.

Ryouta started shrinking into himself before he could stop it. He loathed the way his father’s mere presence could make him feel like he was mud under someone’s boot, too small to do anything. Fuyumi and Natsuo had inherited their mother’s quirk. Before Shouto’s quirk had manifested, Ryouta had been the only one with their father’s quirk and he had pushed him past his limit often. When it turned out that he was even more of a failed concept than anticipated, Endeavor had discarded him like trash.

After Shouto’s quirk had manifested, things had only gone downhill. Ryouta had been left scrambling for any scraps that resembled approval or lashing out in defiance. They weren’t his brightest moments.

The others finally noticed that Ryouta and Shouto had come to a halt and stopped walking as well, looking at them curiously. Iida even asked, “Are you okay?” when Endeavor’s eyes fell on Ryouta and he stopped as if he’d crashed into a wall.

If a glare could kill a man, Ryouta was certain that he would’ve been roasted alive on the spot. He had seen a lot of awful things in his father’s eyes before - disgust, disappointment, indifference, anger - but none of them could compare to the pure hellfire of rage and loathing that burned in Endeavor’s bright blue eyes now. They were the same eyes that Ryouta had. It was like nothing he’d ever seen before. He hadn’t thought it capable of a person to look so furious before, but the flames on Endeavor’s pro hero costume rose higher and he clenched his hands into large fists as he snarled, “You.”

Oh, Ryouta knew what that stance meant.

There were a lot of things that he should’ve said - a lot of things he should have done - but a rock dropped into the pit of his stomach, the acids boiling so hotly that he felt sick, and his heart leapt into his throat. He’d done plenty of things to piss his father off, some of them on purpose and some of them out of his control (It’s not my fault, I was born with this quirk, I didn’t ask for this, please, wait, come back, I can do better, I’ll be stronger-), but becoming a villain had to be the worst slap to the face that he could’ve given to Endeavor and he couldn’t even fucking remember it.

All he could remember was a phone call that had taken place five years ago (I don’t want your weakness rubbing off on Shouto) and the mixed bag of emotions that had smothered him like a tsunami. The fury that he had felt towards the man for controlling his little brother’s life, the hurt that came from being not only abandoned, but smeared in mud, the disgusting need to be accepted by a man who didn’t deserve his respect; yet Ryouta would have given it anyways if he was just proud of him once.

Instead, he’d become a villain, the very thing his father loathed more than anything. He wasn’t one now and yet he was and Endeavor knew that. He could see it in the pro hero’s eyes. Ryouta wasn’t the sixteen-year-old boy that had run off to U.A. to do his own thing, a failure of a child with a destructive quirk that didn’t even fit his body.

So Ryouta countered the only way he knew, knowing exactly what Endeavor thought of him now. The rules for villains had been drilled into his head and could not be clearer. If he was going to be a villain to his father, then so fucking be it. He wasn’t going to be afraid anymore. That was for damn sure.

With a cold glare burning in his eyes, Ryouta tried to force an expression of disinterest, shoved his hands in his pockets, and drawled in his dryest tone, “Oh, hey, Dad.”

It was the wrong thing to say.

Endeavor snapped, storming towards him like a furious tornado of fire, rage radiating off of him so strongly that the others around him took a step back, making him feel alone. It didn’t matter. He didn’t need them to have his back. He’d dealt with this all his life. His mother had fluttered between trying to shield him and turning away and pretending nothing was happening. Fuyumi and Natsuo hadn’t understood, their lack of a fire-related quirk cutting them off from Endeavor’s focus.

Only Shouto stood his ground, as if he too had grown defiant of Endeavor’s ways, but he hadn’t been like that the last time Ryouta remembered him. He had still been young. Ryouta reacted to Endeavor bearing down on him with fiery intent in such a visceral way that he didn’t even realize what he was doing. He pulled his hands out of his pockets, his left forming a fist while he threw the other out to his right, his palm connecting with Shouto’s chest, and shoved his little brother out of the way of Endeavor’s coming attack.

It was what Ryouta used to do back when they were kids and he still lived at home. When Endeavor’s training got too harsh for Shouto and their mother couldn’t do anything, he would physically throw himself in the way. It was done more out of instinct now than anything else. That desperate need to protect, even more so now because he knew that he’d failed to do so.

Caught off guard, Shouto stumbled away, his eyes wide with surprise. He reached out with his right hand as if he meant to grab hold of Ryouta’s wrist to stop him from using his quirk, but he snatched his hand away and did no such thing. Even though his heart was pounding in his chest and he felt terror flickering like a light in his mind, he forced his quirk to stay down.

As soon as Endeavor was on him, he snatched Ryouta by the front of his shirt and pulled him up roughly so that only the tips of his shoes were scraping the ground. Ryouta reached to grab Endeavor’s massive metal wrist braces to steady himself, his palms warming immediately. Endeavor was tall and muscular whereas Ryouta was still growing, making the action seem almost effortless. While he might’ve looked like his father, he was thin and lanky like his mother. Judging by that photo he’d seen of Dabi, he’d never grown out of that body. It was just another thing that would’ve disappointed Endeavor no doubt.

“You disgusting piece of villain trash,” Endeavor spat. His flames were hot and Ryouta had to fight the urge to flinch away from them. It would only further prove to Endeavor that Ryouta was weak, but he was beginning to sweat and felt like he was standing too close to a bonfire. “You have no right to be here. You should be rotting in jail for your crimes.”

“Funny,” Ryouta shot back viciously, “so should you.” A smirk twitched onto his face, despite the fact that it felt out of place and he knew it was a terrible idea. “Oh, I heard you’re the number one hero now. Congratulations.”

The words were spilling out of him faster than he could think them through. It was always like this for him when Endeavor was furious with him. He would say the first things that popped into his head that he knew would make his father even angrier. It had helped when he had started Shouto’s quirk training. If nothing else, Ryouta was talented at pissing his father off and redirecting his temper from a scared boy who was just learning his quirk to a temperamental preteen who couldn’t control his own.

“Quit acting like you don’t know,” Endeavor snapped. “You can trick them, but you won’t fool me again. I should have known you were rotten to your core.”

“Like father, like son, right?” Ryouta retorted.

Endeavor’s flames burned brighter. “You are not my son.”

“I fucking wish,” Ryouta ground out. He tried to pull his father’s hands off of him, but his arms got too close to the fire of Endeavor’s hero costume. His arm stung with pain when the fire singed the sleeve of his school uniform and he jerked back as a hiss slipped through his teeth.

“I won’t have you tainting Shouto,” Endeavor swore, jerking him away from Shouto and the other U.A. students. “He’s going to become the number one hero after me while you suffer the consequences for your crimes.”

“I know that!” Ryouta burst like an explosion, unable to hold it in any longer. “I know he’s better than me -- that he’s better than you! I’m glad he is! I’m relieved!”

He shoved harder and kicked at Endeavor’s shins. It didn’t hurt Endeavor nearly enough to make him let go, but he seemed to be done with hi, and practically tossed him to the ground. It never took Endeavor long to tire of him. He was too unimportant to be dealt with for long. Ryouta landed on his feet too awkwardly to stay standing and tripped backwards onto his ass. It was humiliating and he hated it more than anything, but he didn’t scramble to his feet. He stayed on the ground, huffing irately as Endeavor looked down on him with disgust.

Off to the side, Shouto stood with his arms slightly raised and his feet in a stance like he might fight. It was partly why Ryouta stayed on the ground. For once, as much as he hated the feeling, it was better to be vulnerable. To be honest, if he tried to fight back, he was unsure whether Shouto would attack Endeavor or him and he wasn’t eager to find out. After all, for however much of a bastard he was, Endeavor was the hero and Ryouta was a villain -  or at least would be one again when the de-aging quirk wore off.

“I don’t know why I did the things that I did,” Ryouta said, forcing the words out of his mouth. He hated it. This weakness, this admittance of how pathetic he was, of how far he’d fallen, especially in front of Endeavor. After all the pain he’d suffered through, after all his attempts to prove the man wrong and make something of himself, he had, just not in the way any of them had expected. “I’ve only got myself to blame in the end, but I didn’t have anyone to taint me either.” He dragged himself to his feet, keeping his arms limp at his sides as he stood up straight so that everyone would know he wasn’t going to fight. “I only had you.”

Endeavor’s eyes widened in what he thought was shock before he narrowed them. No, it couldn’t have been shock. Then again, this wasn’t an average day for them. It wasn’t like any other fight or argument that they’d had before. Endeavor hadn’t seen him for four years and Ryouta was positive that whatever their last encounter had been like, it hadn’t been pleasant. If he’d had encounters with Dabi, it made things even worse.

“Don’t you dare put this on me,” Endeavor told him in a low growl. “It’s a choice to become a villain, one that you have to pay the price for. You became one of your own accord.”

“I don’t want to become a villain!” Ryouta shouted, digging his blunt fingernails into his calloused palms so hard that they nearly broke the skin. His quirk was threatening to come out. He could feel it in his chest, the need to explode making his heart thump wildly, and his palms heating up, like his quirk was desperate to let loose. Instead, he closed his eyes, willing it to go away. Calm down. He had to breathe. “I don’t know--” He had to fucking breathe . “I don’t know why I did it and I can tell myself that I wouldn’t make the same mistakes now that I know what happens, but I can’t. I’m going to go back to being a villain. I did those things. I can’t take them back.”

And it scares me.

No, he wasn’t going to admit that, but the words hung there, out in the open anyways. He almost growled over it, furious with himself for letting his anxiety get the best of him. Endeavor had that effect on him though - always had ever since his quirk had manifested early when he was three.

It didn’t matter though. None of his words did. Once a villain, always a villain. There was no such thing as redemption, only retribution. As far as Endeavor was concerned, the only bed Ryouta should’ve been sleeping on was in a jail cell, not a high school dorm. Maybe he was right. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. Aizawa had said that he would pull him out if he didn’t feel comfortable with the situation.

With a gaze that spoke of no pity and certainly no love, Endeavor took a step forward, as if meaning to grab him again and drag him away, and Ryouta instinctively slid his foot back into a defensive stance. Endeavor stopped, his eyes flickering down to Ryouta’s feet and back up to his face, which had a determined expression on it now. “Are you really planning on fighting me?” He sounded incredulous and angry at the same time, like he couldn’t believe that he would even try. After all, how many times had Endeavor kicked his ass in training over the years? “You aren’t worth the trouble.”

Ryouta loosened his body. He could feel his quirk dying down, the fire inside of him disappearing as if his father’s words had blown it out. “I never was.” He stood up straight. “Too many flaws, right? No sense in working with a failed product when you finally managed to create the perfect one.”

It wasn’t a jab at Shouto. Hopefully, he knew that. Fuyumi and Natsuo had been pushed to the side and ignored like Ryouta had been, but neither of them had experienced being discarded like he had. Up until Shouto’s quirk had finally manifested, their father had trained him. It had been a brutal experience, especially since his quirk didn’t fit his body. That hadn’t mattered. He’d been forced to push through it anyway. In a way though, he had craved that attention, thinking he could be strong like his father wanted him to be, and when it was suddenly taken away and he was tossed to the side like his other siblings…

“I should’ve seen the villain in you,” Endeavor said.

“But you didn’t.” And neither had Ryouta. He didn’t understand it. “Bet that stings, doesn’t it?”

Endeavor’s flames grew over his wrists and Ryouta prepared for the worst, but then someone shouted, “Endeavor!” and he caught sight of Aizawa meandering towards them. There was a bored expression on his face, his hands were in his pockets, and he wasn’t walking fast by any means, but his eyes were sharper than ever. Despite calling for the pro hero, he was staring at Ryouta, that unreadable gaze of his unsettling. “You left before we could finish explaining the situation.”

“There’s no need,” Endeavor declared, half-turning to face Aizawa but still keeping an eye on Ryouta. “None of that matters. I’m taking him in.”

Aizawa stopped in front of the number one hero and replied with a single, “No.”

This time, the shocked look on Endeavor’s face was unmistakable. Even Ryouta flinched and Shouto froze completely. No ? Was Aizawa aware who he was speaking with? People didn’t just tell Endeavor “no” and get away with it. Ryouta had spent more than half his life trying to do that. Their mother had. Shouto had. It had never worked and always ended painfully. In the end, Endeavor got what he demanded.

“He’s a villain that kidnapped a student, attacked my son, and was involved in a pro hero’s murder,” Endeavor declared. “Who knows what other crimes he committed? I’m taking him in.”

The flat look on Aizawa’s face didn’t change whatsoever. “No, you’re not. If you had stayed to finish the discussion, you would be aware of the circumstances.”

Endeavor’s flames flared up for a second. He looked like he was about to have a conniption. “What circumstances? He’s Dabi, a known member of the League of Villains. He should be in prison.”

“He isn’t Dabi now,” Aizawa pointed out. There was a hard edge to his tone, one that made Ryouta nervous. No one talked to Endeavor like this. The fact that he hadn’t gone off on him yet was astounding, but then, they couldn’t just get into a fight in public, especially on campus. “The quirk turned him completely back to his time when he was a sixteen-year-old boy.”

“Oh, so you’re just going to let him walk?” Endeavor accused.

“He’s not going anywhere, least of all out of our sight,” Aizawa said. He wasn’t scared in the slightest. Many pro heroes weren’t, of course, but a lot of them were intimidated at least. If anything, the closest emotion Ryouta could figure that Aizawa was feeling right now was anger. “U.A., along with the authorities, has decided to house him here while he’s under the effects of the quirk.”

“So you can attempt to rehabilitate him?” A snarl worked its way onto Endeavor’s face. “If you’re going to be idiotic and treat him as a minor for now, then that’s not your decision to make. It’s mine.”

“I thought I wasn’t your son,” Ryouta interjected.

Endeavor turned back on him quickly, his eyes no less fiery, but this time, Ryouta didn’t take a step back. “You’re my responsibility. A hero has to accept that.”

“I’m your consequence,” Ryouta shot back. “Fucking accept that.”

Aizawa folded his arms across his chest, thoroughly unbothered by the whole thing. “I’m done talking about the matter of a U.A. student in public. If you wish to discuss this in detail, we can do it inside with Nezu.” He left absolutely no room to move, his intent to turn on his heels and walk away any second now apparent. Hell, Aizawa must have had nerves of steel to be able to handle this without reacting at all. Either that or he was genuinely undisturbed by Endeavor’s presence and behavior and didn’t care.

Even the others had begun to react. Shouto had stepped closer so that he was almost at Ryouta’s side again. On their left, Ryouta could see out of the corner of his eyes that Midoriya had separated himself from the group, fists clenched at his side, like he could do anything. Uraraka and Iida still hung back, probably at least a little confused about what was going on since they lacked any context to what growing up as a Todoroki had been like.

“I’m washing my hands of this,” Endeavor declared. He turned his back to Ryouta, facing Aizawa again. “Don’t come to me when this bites you in the ass. He decided to become a villain; he’ll do it again, regardless of when he turns back to his actual age. I’ll keep my eyes out for when it happens so I can do your job for you.” Once a villain, always a villain. There was nothing more to it. “If you think you can save him, you’re wrong. He was corrupted from the start. I should’ve done away with him then.”

Like he was trash. It only stung Ryouta a little. The fact that it did angered him more than the words themselves. He had known how Endeavor would react to the truth, however strange it was in his own head. Endeavor not physically dragging him to prison was the shocker at this point.

“Perhaps if you had been more aware as a father, we wouldn’t be here attempting to clean up your mess,” Aizawa said, an obvious sharp edge in his voice this time.

Ryouta felt as if the air had been sucked right out of his lungs. Aizawa had been mostly polite or at least dismissive throughout the entire conversation, but if Endeavor was done with this moment, then Aizawa was past it even further. Endeavor’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t react at least. He must have actually started to work on his temper. The Endeavor that Ryouta knew would have either raged against Aizawa or chewed him out. Shouto’s eyes were wide and he was gaping. Maybe he’d grown rebellious in the past few years, but another pro hero talking to their father like this was unheard of.

Endeavor didn’t respond. Sensing that he was finished, he turned to Shouto. “Stay away from that disgrace.”

Shouto quickly replaced his stunned expression with a closed off one and responded, “That’s not your decision to make,” throwing their father’s words back at him.

There was a flash of indignation across Endeavor’s face, but then it was gone, hidden by his mask of flames. After shooting Ryouta one last glare, which he returned with just as much fire, he turned his back on them and began to stomp away. Every muscle in his body was tense, but he was clearly trying not to overreact.

Aizawa watched him go, mulling over something as he chewed the inside of his cheek, and then added, just loud enough for Endeavor to hear him, “And if you ever touch one of my students again, I’ll be forced to have you removed from campus.”

He didn’t have to say it - Ryouta didn’t expect him to call Endeavor out on his behavior, considering his status - and yet Aizawa did and it… Well, to be honest, he wasn’t sure what to think of it. He’d never had anyone stand up for him against his father. It had pretty much always been just him, even when he had been a kid. Fuyumi might have said something once or twice, but she was much more soft-spoken than him and hadn’t been much older either. Natsuo had been too young. It had been up to Ryouta to stick up for himself and he hadn’t started doing it until later on, after he had more or less been abandoned.

On the off days that his mother tried, they were half-hearted attempts. She was much more proactive in protecting Shouto, who was smaller and bore the brunt of most of Endeavor’s demands. There were even times when she had tried to comfort Ryouta, pulling him into her arms, smoothing his hair down, but there was that disconnect when he would look up at her and they’d connect eyes. He could see the way her eyes roved over his face, like she wasn’t seeing him, and then she’d begin to pull away from him. Before she could do so, he would pull away from her completely and leave the room.

It hurt less if he left first, or so he told himself.

As soon as Endeavor was gone from their sight, Ryouta’s shoulders dropped and his entire body fell into a slump. He was worn thin from hunger and tensing his muscles for so long. All he wanted to do was slink away and get out of everyone’s sight, but there was no way he could do that now. He could tell that everyone was watching him out of the corner of their eyes, trying to appear like they weren’t looking at him and failing spectacularly. These kids weren’t known for their subtlety, were they?

Surprisingly, Midoriya was the first one to react, maybe because Shouto was an intensely private person and this was not something he wanted to talk about in public. Still, Midoriya stepping forward and hesitantly saying, “Ryouta--” as he reached out like he meant to put a hand on Ryouta’s shoulder startled him into jerking away out of habit. Physical comfort was not something taught in the Todoroki household, at least not for him.

He cringed, opened his mouth to apologize, and then closed it, leaving them in an awkward and painful silence. There wasn’t really anything he could say and, if he was being honest, he didn’t want to say anything at all. This was beyond humiliating. Despite his stomach twisting in hunger pains, he thought he might be too nauseous and tired to eat anything.

“Ryouta, with me,” Aizawa ordered, though it came out more as an afterthought than a command.

Relief bloomed in Ryouta’s chest. He wasn’t sure if Aizawa really needed him or was giving him an out, but either way, he’d take getting scolded by a teacher over dealing with the others at this point. When his eyes roved over them, he had to look away quickly. Iida looked shocked while Uraraka wore an obviously worried expression. He wasn’t sure what to make of Midoriya, who looked torn between concern and determination. He waved at them offhandedly and then turned, connecting eyes with Shouto before turning his gaze to the ground and shuffling after Aizawa, who had already started to walk away.

Of course, any sense of relief faded away quickly. It didn’t take long before his mind strayed back to Endeavor and he found himself falling into that a familiar dark place that turned him ice cold and made him want to burn at the same time. He let out a quiet breath as they walked into the office building that Aizawa and Endeavor had come from. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. Maybe he should go to jail after all.

Once they were inside Aizawa’s office, he said, “Sit,” and Ryouta robotically did what he was told without thinking. It came from years of conditioning with Endeavor. Every now and then, he would catch himself acting like that and get frustrated. He had to shake himself out of the habit. There wasn’t an underlying threat in Aizawa’s voice (there rarely was with the U.A. teachers), but it was like his brain heard it anyway and reacted.

Stuck in the middle of his typical teenage crisis, he was caught off guard by the carton dropped in his lap and just barely managed to catch it before it toppled onto the ground. When he opened up the top, he found it filled with food. So taken aback, he began to pick at it with his fingers and eat it right there. Only when he spotted Aizawa watching him from his seat behind the desk did Ryouta become self-conscious and close it back up.

“I didn’t eat lunch,” Ryouta said, not quite sure why he felt the need to explain himself.

“I know,” Aizawa replied. “You told Iida that you weren’t hungry. I heard.”

“Oh.” Ryouta set the carton down on the desk. “I thought you were asleep.”

Leaning back in his seat, Aizawa considered him with those droopy eyes that made him look like he was ready to pass out any second. It made Ryouta leery. “How was your first day?”

“Honestly?” Ryouta sighed and sunk in the seat. “It was...weird.” That was all he could think of. It felt as if he had tripped into an alternate reality. When Aizawa didn’t respond, he knew that he was meant to continue, but he didn’t know what he wanted. Half of him was worried that he’d say the wrong thing and Aizawa would take him out of U.A.; the other half thought that might not be such a bad idea. “I haven’t really had a chance to process it fully, I guess.”

“That makes sense,” Aizawa said. “You’ve been avoiding it.”

Ryouta couldn’t deny that and made no attempts to, seeing as how he knew that Aizawa would see right through it. He had a feeling that Aizawa could see through nearly everything. “I want to talk to Shouto, but…” He tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling. “There isn’t really anything I can say. I can’t apologize for things I don’t remember or understand doing, but I know I did them.”

It didn’t make any sense. He could understand turning away from heroes and even U.A. on some level, but not from his family. He wasn’t as close to Fuyumi and Natsuo as he was Shouto and he and his mother couldn’t always connect, but he wouldn’t leave them to Endeavor. Would he? What had happened in the next year of his life that had convinced him to abandon all of his promises? Even more frightening, would it happen again? Despite U.A.’s intervention, would he follow the same path?

“All you can do is move forward,” Aizawa told him. “You can’t let the past - either of them - hold you back or you’ll only find yourself in the same position as before.”

Ryouta snorted. “That’s easier said than done. I don’t think anyone is going to let me forget.” Which was freaking ironic since he couldn’t remember. He highly doubted that Bakugou was going to sit back and let him live out the rest of this de-aging quirk peacefully. “And maybe…” He leaned forward and hung his head. “Maybe I don’t deserve to, you know? Maybe Endeavor is right.”

“Endeavor is a lot of things and he is the number one hero right now,” Aizawa said, “but right isn’t one of them.” All Ryouta could manage was a sullen gaze. He was exhausted, moody, and didn’t want to be around people, so all in all, it was damn near impossible to feel any other way. “I’m not going to pry into your childhood - it’s clear that you have no intention of talking about it - but if there is anything that might impede your time at U.A. that I should be aware of, you need to tell me.”

There was a lot of emotional baggage that, if opened, would take days to sort through, if not weeks. Aizawa was correct in assuming that he didn’t want to talk about what his home life or what his childhood growing up with Endeavor had been like. With just one interaction, Aizawa had probably seen and learned more about that than anyone else. Endeavor never acted like that with them in public, but seeing Ryouta and hearing the truth about Dabi’s identity must have shaken him on some level.

Of course, there were other things that Ryouta could tell Aizawa. He could talk about how his quirk sometimes felt like it was some sort of beast trying to claw its way out of him, how he could feel that fire rising up inside of him even before he activated it, how there were times when it was all he could do to squash the urge or shove it out of him when he called it up. He could talk about why his fire turned against him, why no one was safe (least of all himself), how he felt torn between putting a lid on it and just letting it take over. He could talk about his shame, his guilt, his rage, his despondency.

Instead, Ryouta tucked it all away in the back of his mind and said, “I’ll let you know.”

He knew that Aizawa would recognize it as bullshit and yet he met his stare and kept it. He’d spent years learning how to lie to Endeavor with a straight face and stick to his guns when he was called out; he could do the same now. Aizawa’s eyes narrowed briefly. Maybe.

“In the meantime, some funds have been allocated to an account to help you while you’re here,” Aizawa continued, moving past Ryouta’s bold-faced lie. It wasn’t that he was trying to be difficult, even though he knew that lying right off the bat would cause issues. It was just that some things had been buried for so long that he didn’t see the point in bringing them up. “We’ll figure out something more permanent later on.”

“I figured you’d just have me scrub Lunch Rush’s dishes in order to pay for my meals,” Ryouta quipped. Endeavor hated it whenever someone deflected with humor - he found it annoying and weak - so of course, Ryouta had made a habit of it starting when he was around ten.

“Don’t tempt me,” Aizawa responded without missing a beat. “I’ve heard manual labor builds character.”

Oh, damn. Ryouta raised his eyebrows. Aizawa was not here to play. He clearly wasn’t the new teacher anymore. It wasn’t going to be easy getting anything past him, not like his teachers before. They’d been good and excellent heroes in their own right, but they hadn’t been terribly observant when it came to students outside of the hero course. It wasn’t their fault. U.A. was built around being the top hero school in the world, not top gen ed school. It hadn’t been difficult to stay under the radar despite his quirk accidents.

He couldn’t do that now, seeing as how he was not only in the hero course, but would turn back into a killer. He wasn’t just on the radar now; he was the target. His best bet would be to get out of here so that he wouldn’t be under Aizawa’s scrutinization any longer than necessary.

Grabbing the carton of food off the desk, Ryouta asked, “Is there anything else you needed from me or…?”

“You’re free to leave,” Aizawa said, his attention already turning to the essays stacked on the left side of his desk.

“Right, cool then.” Ryouta nodded his head and stood up, holding the carton close to his chest. Free to leave. That was funny. He hadn’t been free since, well…  Since he’d been a villain. Strange to think that was the only time he had probably been free was when he had been a criminal.

“I’m serious when I say that you need to speak up if there’s something wrong,” Aizawa told him. Ryouta froze in the middle of turning to the door and glanced back at Aizawa. He hadn’t even bothered to look up from the papers that he was flipping through. “I can’t help you if you keep things from me.”

Ryouta forced an even expression onto his face. “I know.”

“I don’t care if it’s humiliating, shameful, or just plain annoying,” Aizawa continued, finally lifting his gaze. “U.A. is going out on a limb doing this for you.” Of course he knew that. He couldn’t forget it if he tried. “If you truly don’t want to repeat your future, you’ll work with us.”

“Understood, sir,” Ryouta said with as much deference he could muster. Hopefully, it was enough to appease Aizawa, but from what he’d heard about the hero course, the man probably had precognition about when his students were about to do something stupid.

After lifting the box for a moment to give his thanks, Ryouta all but booked it out of the office. All he wanted right now was some peace and quiet. He didn’t think for a second that he would be left completely alone, but there was a tree on the campus grounds that he liked to eat lunch sometimes when the grand mess hall felt too crowded. They would hopefully give him some space there before he made his way back to the dorms. He didn’t want to face the others just yet. He knew that they’d greet him with a mixture of wariness and concern. Mostly though, he wanted to figure out what to say to Shouto. It had to be done sooner or later.

Shouto had been waiting four years for an explanation for why Ryouta had left and he still couldn’t give it to him, if only because he didn’t know himself. Still, his little brother deserved something and it was a big brother’s responsibility to give him that.

@mistystarshine notes: I hope you like drama, because you just got bludgeoned by it! No apologies. Theoretically, the chapter could have been split up, but it flowed smoothly enough that we couldn’t find a nice stopping point and didn’t want to leave at one that felt unnatural or give you two cliffhangers in a row. (Plus I want to stick to my promise that the intentionally-planned cliffhangers will only get worse.) So a long chapter it is! It is the first and will not be the last. Personally, I’m excited to see what you think of it!

Endeavor. Is. An. Ass. However, while he has done horrible things, his actions are inexcusable, and I, personally, loathe him, we will be striving to remain in character, so you shouldn’t have to worry about excessive bashing. It is also worth noting that Ryouta is NOT a reliable narrator. (Ohmytheon: This directly affects the characters and how he perceives them, so if they seem a little off at times...) Do I mention this because it impacts Endeavor to some small degree? Other things? Who knows - I sure ain’t telling.

We also have a bit of trivia for you! Ohmytheon thought this one up and I fully support it. That thing Aizawa said about the school providing funding for Ryouta? A lie. He’s paying for him out of pocket. As a pro hero who lives the vagrant lifestyle, he can afford it. (Ohmytheon: Dadzawa back at it again.)

By the way, did you notice the chapter titles? We have a long playlist for this fic and have decided to slowly share it with you by using song lyrics as titles. Not only will they will generally tie into the chapter in question in some way, but some songs may be used as reoccurring themes (the benefit of using lyrics instead of the song titles themselves) or contain bits of foreshadowing, so it’s worth looking up the songs themselves.

Finally! The way the fic works is that Ohmytheon does the bulk of the writing (she writes chronologically), plots with me, entertains my rambles, and betas and fact checks with my writing - I plot with her, ramble about my ideas, beta, sometimes research and fact-check, and slowly write, chaotic, non-chronological fashion. Thus far, I’ve contributed a few pieces of dialogue, but the next chapter is actually going to be the first to contain prose written by me. It’s not a whole lot, but ya’ll are going to have to put up with it anyway. I had emotions that needed to be expressed.

[starsgivemehp]

Snowprints: The Brothers’ Past - chapter 1

Characters: Red and Boss (but not yet named so), the innkeeper bunny Word count: 2090 Triggers: mild hand gore? Maybe? Ehh not really. Summary: The brothers arrive in Snowdin and are taken in.

Two silhouettes shuffled through snow, moving slowly. Accompanying them was the faint sound of rattling. The silhouettes were trembling as they approached Snowdin. There was no one around – for good reason, the snow was coming down in droves. The figures were small, stumbling, sometimes sinking too far into the fresh snow, and having to pause to tug free.

“i-it’s ok-kay, l-little b-bro, i s-see s-somethin’ a-ahead...” the smaller figure muttered, voice broken up by the chattering of teeth. His weak soul pulsed faintly within his ribcage. He was at 0.7/1 at the moment, purely from the elements. But all of his concern was for the figure a few inches taller, stumbling along in exhaustion, gaze down.

“I’M T-TIRED...” the taller one mumbled back. His right hand, a shiny plate on the back, was pressing a scarf closer to himself. It was the only article of clothing they’d grabbed on the way. A ripped and torn red fabric, and One had given it to him, as the older one – how he knew he was the older one, he was no longer sure, but he was. Protecting Two was his utmost priority. His taller yet softer brother needed his protection.

“a-almost th-there, br-brother...” He slung his arm around Two’s shoulders and urged him on. They passed several houses, where people peeked out, but did not come out to help them. But the sign slowly growing bigger was promising. ‘Inn.’

Step by step, despite the flurry of snow – cold! so cold! He didn’t realize anything could be so cold – they made it there. One’s hand reached out, trembling, and turned the knob. Once he forced it open, both of them gave out. They literally fell into the doorway, snow spilling inside too, with matching yelps and thuds.

 “Whoa!” A rough female voice sounded from above them. There was rapid footsteps, then the door closed behind them, and someone knelt close by. One looked up, now aware of how hard both of them were rattling, without the sound of the wind covering it. The clacking sound filled the whole room. What greeted him was a dark-furred bunny monster, ears down, looking sleep-deprived and frowning down at them. Both of them were shivering beyond belief. Just children, no older than 12 or 13 in appearance. Little skeletons. One’s right eye was cracked horribly, manifesting no pupil, clearly blind. Two was missing a chunk from his chin, curled around his thin frame and struggling to make the scarf wrap around him entirely. The bunny huffed quietly as she looked them over.

 “Ya got snow all over my entranceway! What were you doing out there?? Who’s kids are ya?” she demanded, jabbing a furry finger at them. One didn’t respond, jaw tightening, gaze trailing down to his own right hand. A matching plate lay there, but two digits different, the rest identical. So after a long moment of silence, the bunny sighed and stood. “Ah see how it is. Tch. Here, get up!”

 With some effort, the two skeletons struggled back to their feet, leaving the now-melting snow behind. Once they were upright, the bunny grabbed each of them by one arm, then dragged them over to a small sofa near a counter. There she shoved them, and they stumbled onto it. Two went right back to being curled up into as small of a ball as he could go. One sat upright and put a hand protectively on his brother’s back, glaring up at the bunny.

 “w-watch it! he’s d-delicate.”

“Delicate? Pff. You look like the delicate one, sonny. Shit, I didn’t know HP could go below 1 without someone dusting.”

“i’m f-fine. my b-brother i-is c-cold and n-needs f-food, b-but i’m fine.”

“...Tch. How long were you out there?”

“...”

“Where did you love before your parents bit the dust?”

“....”

“Answer me!”

“...”

He looked down at his right hand again. The bunny’s gaze found it too, and she snatched his hand, despite the sharp “hey!” in response.

“W.D.G. 1-S... What’s this mean?”

“let go of me. i’ll f-fight!”

“Geez, I’m just asking. Is this screwed into your hand?”

“let go of me!”

A half formed red bone bonked on her shoulder, doing 1 damage. She jerked back, then stared at the bone as it clattered to the floor, then dissolved. She grit her teeth, then glared at the child.

“You want me to toss you back outside, you little punk? Don’t do that again!”

One bared his sharp teeth, holding his right hand close to his chest, plate deliberately turned away from her. After a long moment, the bunny sighed and turned away.

“Okay, okay, I get it. Look, just. Stay there, okay? Gimme a sec.”

She walked off behind the desk, to a door, and then left the room. One didn’t relax. A clock on the opposite wall ticked audibly, now that their rattling was starting to fade. It was warm in here.

 After several minutes, the bunny returned with a tray. On it, two round, sweet-smelling pastries with a hint of steam rising from them, and two cups of white liquid, also warm. She held it out.

“There. A cinnabun and milk. That’s all I’m giving ya. And you can stay on the couch for the night, but that’s all. You’re outta here in the morning, capiche?”

One didn’t listen. He grabbed one cup and little plate, then turned to the figure still curled.

“brother! brother, l-look, food. sit up. c’mon. you need food.”

“NNN...” Two pushed himself up with both hands, looking up. His face was dusted with orange. He looked exhausted, but despite that, he reached for the food. He took it and took a bite, and his eye sockets widened a little. “SWEET AND WARM...”

“yeah? good.” One smiled, holding the cup, completely ignoring the fact that the bunny was still standing there with the other bun and drink. He held out the cup after Two got in a few bites. “this too, bro. you’ll be warm again in no time. c’mon.”

With his gentle coaxing, Two set the bun in his lap and took the cup. He held it in both hands as children do, and sipped it. “IT’S GOOD.”

“you like it? then drink all of it.”

“UH-HUH.”

Only then did One take the food proffered to him. He tried the bun first. Sweet and warm, just as Two had said, but also stickier than he’d thought. He ate every bite, then sucked the last of the stickiness from his fingers greedily. Then he tried the drink. “what’s this?”

“It’s... Milk?? Haven’t you ever had milk before??” the bunny asked, astounded. He shook his head, taking another sip. It was good. He drank it all, gave her back the cup, and turned back to his little brother, who was just finishing his own. They were warm now, but the orange had not left his cheeks. Once he returned the cup, he curled back up, settling his head on One’s lap. One smiled and gently rubbed his back. Soon, the thinner skeleton’s eye sockets closed, his breathing evened out.

 One finally looked back up at the bunny. She had just been watching in silence, holding the cups, the tray under one arm. When he glanced up, she met his gaze.

“And yer still not gonna tell me what’s up with them things on yer hands? or where ya came from?”

He drew his right hand close again, rubbing the plate with his other hand in what seemed to be an anxious gesture.

“...don’t remember.”

“Hah?”

“don’t remember, i said.”

“Look, you weren’t just wandering in the snow for the past however many years. Where’d ya come from?”

He glanced down. “don’t remember,” he mumbled. “a dark place. it was... we walked a while. it was hot outside. then not bad. then the snow...”

“Hotland, huh...? Well, that’s somethin’. You really don’t remember?”

He shook his head sullenly, still rubbing the plate.

“You gotta name?”

“one.”

“Hah?”

“i... just. one.”

“One what?”

“just... one.”

“...What about that one?” She jerked her chin at the sleeping skeleton.

“two.”

“One... and Two?? Where the hell did you get names like that??”

He shrugged, still avoiding her gaze.

“Tch... Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Like I said, you’re outta here in the morning.”

“don’t got anywhere to go.”

“Not my problem, runt. Lotsa kids live in the forest. You’ll fit right in. Maybe make friends. I got my own kids to look after, y’hear? I’m not lookin’ after two brats that ain’t mine.”

One went back to gently rubbing his brother’s back, disappointment written all over his face. But he nodded. “fine. thanks for the food.”

“Don’t mention it.” She went back around behind the desk and took a seat.

One did not lay down. His brother’s head was on his lap, and he was not moving it. He just settled back against the couch more comfortably, He tried to stay alert, wary of any possible danger. But he was exhausted, and much warmer after the meal and being in a warm room. Soon enough, his eye sockets were starting to close. He jerked himself awake a few times over the next ten minutes, but soon enough, his skull lolled back and to the side, and remained there. He was fast asleep.

“...Little rascals,” the bunny mumbled.

 - - - - -

 “BROTHER? BROTHER! WAKE UP!”

“nnnn...”

One shifted his skull, and it dipped off the back of the soda, before he lifted it, blinking groggily. His gaze went down to his lap, where there was still a familiar weight. There were arms around him now, too, and Two had his face buried in the shorter skeleton’s rag-covered stomach.

“nn... you okay, brother?”

“I’M C-COLD...”

“cold? it’s so warm in here...”

He reached down and gently tilted Two’s chin. The younger skeleton looked up at him with tired eyes, face flushed dark orange. Sweat was forming on his brow.

“oh no. bro, you’re... you’re burnin’ up.”

“BUT I’M COLD.”

“damn, you must’ve gotten sick...” He glanced up. The bunny was reading a magazine, looking half-asleep. “hey! lady!”

She looked up. “Oh, good. You’re both awake. Now kindly get out.

“you got any medicine?”

“Hah?” “my brother, he has a fever.”

 The bunny glared at him for a long moment, then sighed and got up. She came around and leaned over the two of them, then put a hand to Two’s forehead. The slightly taller skeleton closed his eye sockets again, curling up a bit more.

“Tch.... Yeah, he’s sick all right. Can’t tell if it’s from being out in the cold, or if it’s the usual magic sickness... Fine. I’ll get some medicine. You can stay for one more day. Tomorrow morning, you’re out. I mean it.”

One nodded, rubbing his brother’s skull again gently.

 She went off into another room, and soon, she came back with more food. The same thing, just two cinnamon buns, though this time they were accompanied by water. Along with one of the cups of water was two little green pills.

“Here, sit up. Can’t take your medicine lying down.”

“OKAY...”

With some effort, Two pushed himself up into a sitting position. When his scarf shifted, something that had been loosened in the night fell out finally. A scrap of paper drifted down.

“What’s this?” she asked. “Here, you make him take it.”

She handed the tray to One, who set it on his little lap and picked up the pills and water, encouraging his brother to have them. As he did so, the inn bunny picked up the paper and unfolded it. It was a short note, with perfect grammar and an oddly specific way of writing each letter.

 If you find my brothers, please look after them for me. They were not told their names, but I tested their fonts for our father. The one with a blind eye is Sans. The one with this scarf is Papyrus. Our father was a bad person. Give them a home if you can.

 She looked back up at the skeletons. One – Sans – had gotten his brother to swallow the pills, and was now carefully feeding him the cinnamon bun with the utmost care. The plates on their hands gleamed under the lights. Screwed into the bone... And yet, they could not remember...

 She folded the note again and slipped it into a pocket, and then sighed aloud as she gave in to the inevitable. She had two more permanent mouths to feed.

 Curse her soft soul.

[euph0rictulips]

Oversharing Asks (Disclaimer: These questions are very personal and may touch on sensitive subjects; you may want to look over them before reblogging. You can strike out or totally delete questions you don’t want to deal with.) Who hurt you the most? My father, the worst thing is he didn't abandon me, he stayed and tortured my mind my entire life. Who have you hurt the most? My mother; I don't exactly win daughter of the year award. Yeah. We all fuck up. Who do you miss the most? God. I miss the connection we had before I became a fuckup in life. Otherwise, probably my old friend Flynn. Who do you want out of your life the most? Honestly, I just want me. I don't want anymore. And I don't want anyone to want me anymore either. I'm so sick of ruining myself for peoples attention. I just want me and the love I can give to myself the most. Who had the biggest positive impact on you? My boyfriend Casey; I didn't believe him the first time he called me pretty. I was genuinely in shock and thought about it the entire day. Now I get offended if someone doesn't call me pretty. Who had the biggest negative impact on you? Again, probably either my father or mother. But father overall because my mother was doing it all for the right reasons and intended the best for me. Can't say the same for daddy. Who do you wish you could be honest with? My mother. I wish I could be able to tell her anything; about boys, things I like, bad decisions, good choices, any thing. But I can't. Maybe I will one day. Who have you harbored (any kind of!) secret feelings towards? No one anymore, this answer would probably be reserved for an old crush Isaac who I sometimes wonder about from time to time. Otherwise I have a boyfriend. Who would the world be better off without? No one. We're on this earth for a reason. But if you want a physical manifestation of the term SHUT the fuck up; Paige Tregenza. Who do you wish you’d treated differently? My siblings. Maybe if I wasn't so obsessed with myself I could give them all the love that had also been taken away from them and have the strongest connection with them if not with my parents. What was the worst day of your life? There's a lot of days which could come to mind. The day I was forced to break up with my boyfriend. The day my father pulled a knife out on my mother and told the kids to go upstairs. The day I found out my mother had been in a car crash and my father wouldn't let the kids answer the phone because we had to behave. The day I didn't care whether I wanted to live or not. What’s your greatest fear? That I'm never going to be successful and get anywhere in life; that each day, I'm doing nothing with my life and will end up making no one proud. That's why talking about the future immediately causes me to shut down. What’s your biggest insecurity? Probably my body, I'm always insecure of it no matter what, it's been such a constant staple in my life that I don't know how not to be disgusted with my body. Otherwise, when people think of me as shallow or just stupid, because I'm smart and lovely and mature. What’s your biggest regret? My cowardice with anything. I could be so much more than I am right now but because of my laziness, my procrastination and my fears, I waste my life and there's nothing more i regret than the opportunities I missed because I was afraid i wasn't good enough. Describe your ideal world. It's a quaint place. At least, in my head. The people are sweet, driven. Going places. The world is always calm, there's no talk of wars or dying children suffering in poverty, or abandoned kids and psychotic breaks. Everyone speaks in old English, and wears elegant and bold dresses. Art is everywhere; in every form. Music tinkles from every place, religion and ethics and philosophy are viewed with open-mindedness. People don't judge anymore. Dreams are being fulfilled. Promises are kept and everyone is honest. Sunsets can be seen from anywhere and there are regular community picnics. Knowledge is the most powerful thing known to human kind. Love is the most beautiful emotion. I'm an artist living at home in the city, married to my beautiful husband with four children. We're financially stable. God is in our lives. Everything is balanced. Describe your personal hell. Waking up one day without a home. Finding an old wrinkled newspaper on the street with a fellow colleagues name plastered on the front in bold text, applauding his efforts and talents, whilst I freeze on the street. I'm working three jobs to get by. I'm married off to a person I don't even love and it ends up in divorce, and I'm never able to trust anyone ever again to find and fall in love again. My mother died years ago. My father abandoned us then. My siblings hardly care enough to keep contact anymore. I've forgotten what it was like to ask for mercy from God. I end up nowhere, I end up with no one. I end up all alone. What’s a hopeless dream you’re still holding on to? More of a daydream, but having both parents pick me up from school and take me out to a restaurant for my birthday, and tell me that for once, they're proud of the amazing young women I grew up to be as they smile and grasp my hands, pride evident in their eyes. What’s the angriest you’ve ever been? Many instances where I have screamed at the top of my lungs at my father for even attempting to abuse my family or myself, but most recently, at a certain group of boys at my school for treating everyone like shit and constantly bullying and providing backhanded comments about everyone in the grade. What’s the saddest you’ve ever been? Can anyone provide one single example for this answer? I am sad many days, some days I am so sad that I begin to lose sight of who I am. Some days I drown in my sadness, and other days I can't even remember for everything is blurred. What’s the most scared you’ve ever been? Excluding any horror rides or scary movies, probably when I disobeyed my mother and knew I was going to arrive home late and get in trouble for her finding out that I disobeyed her, and I honestly felt like running away from home because i was that scared What’s the most hopeless you’ve ever felt? All the mornings I'd wake up to screams and declarations of I hate you's and curses coming from the kitchen, and trying to stop all the screaming and hitting and fighting and only being shoved into my room with firm orders not to speak. I have never felt more futile than I have trying to protect the few people I have left that I love the most. What’s the most frantic you’ve ever felt? Again, always with my mother. I swear she's the only woman who can make me feel pure fear. Because it isn't some shallow, heartbeat quickening fear which I can recover from in mere seconds, but an anxiety creating, nerve wracking, horrid experience especially when you break someone's trust and they end up finding out, and you sit there watching the pain in their eyes. What’s the bravest you’ve ever felt? Well most recently, after I conquered absailing which is basically my biggest materialistic fear after spiders and I couldn't breathe and I couldn't do it and I didn't want to come down and I eventually did even after all the yelling and begging and I felt like a badass (pretty knocked up and anxious nonetheless) muthafucker but hey I did it What’s the most physical pain you’ve ever felt? I can't remember but either when I dislocated my knee for the first time and had to spend weeks in bed because it hurt too much to even move it, or when I got hepatitis and got a stomach ulcer and spent three days in the hospital because I couldn't breathe or walk What’s the most emotional pain you’ve ever felt? Again, so many instances. All the days when my father told me I wasn't good enough and told me to kill my self and I spent long nights stifling the sobs that wracked my entire body, or the time I broke my mother's trust the first time and she cried in my arms and I never wanted her to feel that way ever again. Or the day my mother told me I had to break up with my boyfriend, I don't think I've ever cried more in my life. Describe a time you felt like a hypocrite. Most recently, I would get absolutely furious with my boyfriend for even just hugging another girl who was his best friend, yet I would chat up and flirt with at least 20+ guys in a mildly flirty tone and expected him to not be angry with me even though he had every single right to be. I don't do it anymore though, I love him Describe a time you felt like a traitor. I'm always a traitor, I'm a slippery slimy snake who can't be trusted xxx Describe a time you felt like a hero. I know I've helped at least 4 people from committing or even thinking about committing suicide or having negative thoughts which I'm very proud of. Describe a time you felt inhuman. Basically any time I am riding in the car at dark and I can basically taste the air and wind in my hair and I can see the night stars from the open window and I feel amazing and the most human yet as if I'm not even on this world Describe a time you felt like a failure. Just when my mother told me she wishes I was never born as her daughter so she wouldn't have to deal with me, that really made me re-evaluate my life. What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done? Broken my mothers trust on 10+ occasions and still tell her I love her What are you proudest of? Probably the day I found out I got both house captain AND student leader despite being told roughly 6 months ago that I'd never been an eligible candidate because I was dealing with many issues and mental problems. What’s your relationship with your family like? Well, it's actually not that bad. I love them with all my heart, even my abusive father. They are all i have in this world. What’s your relationship with religion like? I wish I could be as close to God as I was. Now I find no need to, yet I desperately want to reconnect to him and talk to God, but I've messed up so bad. Where do I even start? Talk about someone you’ve lost. My 8 year old cousin drowned when I was 10 or 11, and it was awful now thinking back upon it. Have you ever self-harmed? Yeah, I've cut my left wrist once and tried my finger once too. I stopped 2 weeks after. Have you ever attempted suicide? No, and I never plan to. Despite anyrhing going on in my life, no matter how bad it gets, it will always get better and I may feel futile sometimes, but the days which I experience true happiness will always outweigh any measure of sadness in my life. Suicide is what stupid, cowardly people do. But I've had many dreams, countless dreams of me pulling the trigger to a gun on my head or drowning myself, and even visions of me hanging myself. I don't know why. I don't have any intention to. Have you ever stolen something? Yes, on many occasions. I would regularly shoplift just because I couldn't be fucked but stopped once I realized how bad and horrible it was. Have you ever cheated on someone? If flirting is cheating, then yes, I have. But I have regretted it every single time. I would never do anything serious. I only flirted because it meant nothing to me. Have you ever been cheated on? Never and I hope I never do get cheated on, and that somebody abuses my trust like that. Have you ever taken revenge on someone? No, not really, I've made a few people cry on some occasions because of stuff I "accidentally" told them that I knew would upset them, but nothing too serious to ever hurt them Have you ever seriously considered killing somone? Many times, on many occasions. Haven't you? Have you ever betrayed someone who trusted you? My mother. And she forgave me every single fucking time. And I kept doing it. I really don't deserve this woman.

- me, like me or don't

[zuffer-weird-girl]

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Fluff and angst in one place my dear coomurates! Enjoy it!

That was a really long one I hope you guys do t get bored with it 😔🤧

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Hari Kurono never wanted to be a father.

It was obvious and logical this. The man just thought he wasn't made for the job and that was it. Well... until his childhood friend had a son.

It wasn't easy to get both Chisaki and Kurono attention, but the moment you put Kaito on this world, simply it changed things for both of them even at some point that Hari asked if HE could be Kaito's god parent.

"Of course Kurono! How nice of you!" You say it smiling while your husband gave him a glare.

Kaito was know by you three, that since the moment he was born, that he was a little angel but half demon... And Kurono often laughed at this, even if the toddler had only 6 months old, the kid manage to piss off Overhaul on purpose just to expend more time with you.

Although, there was this little accident that happened...

One day you and Kai was just talking and chilling; a rarity since Kaito was borned; until you both saw how Kurono seemed so out of character lately. Always nervous, anxious even, and not responding directly questions like he is used to...

You approached gently while Chisaki demanded to know what had happened and then the bomb dropped.

Hari had gotten a woman pregnant.

The worst of all is that, it was only a hook up and the woman knew about his affiliations with the yakusa, and thought she could take some money from him by getting pregnant with his child.... Chrono wasn't dumb, but this was just like a bullet had hitted on his chest.

You notice that in some part in your husband's eyes manifested pure disgust and dissapointment at his friend but also a bit of sympathy, since he hadn't said a word until now.

Somehow, you manage to calm down the man and thought on a solution while Kai thought on how he was going to do to not involve the Shie Hassaikai on this problem that Chrono caused...

Nine months passed and Chrono had the privilege to met his daughter; which he named Haru...

He wasn't astonished but he wasn't displeased either... Actually, he was even surprised and relieved when she wasn't similiar with the mother at all, and even cooed happily when he approached her to his chest.

He told that story to you both and you simply smiled while Kai scoffed and went to see what in hell Kaito was doing up at that hour of the night.

Spying on adults conversations, who hasn't done that at least once?

It didn't take too long for Haru to visit the yakusa house.

You were simply in love! That little girl with two years old was so cute and such a little female version of Hari himself! She was pretty shy at first, and even scared at seing Chisaki glaring her down; what child wouldn't right?; but slowly she got out of her shell and greeted you with a small but endearing smile, shortly after looking at her father for approval.

Kaito was pretty reluctant about the new girl, but when you asked if he could play with her for a little the boy couldn't just say no... It didn't take longer for these two to establish a friendship and you often jokes about the families being even more close to Chisaki and Kurono.

Both rolled their eyes in annoyance by the way... They always do.

Although, when the girl reached the age of three you notice that she was much more present in the house and surely more close to her father... Apparently even at the point of crying, claiming desperately she didn't want it to leave her father.

You wanted to ask if something was wrong but Chisaki's hand stopped you as he sayed it.

"It's not our bussines angel, so let's not get involved either." You nodded reluctantly.

Which leads the curtently days. Kaito had 6 years while Haru had 4 and a half.

Chrono was assigned; along with Rappa, Tengai and Rikiya; to solve some bussines in the center of the city by Chisaki. And as usual, now he had to leave his daughter, but thankfully you and Chisaki were staying in home, so you offered to watch over her as she played with your son. Making Kai widen his eyes and looked at you with hinted desperation and clearly disaproval of your decision.

"I guess, if it wasn't going to be a problem... I can't leave her with anyone else so..." he looked down at his daughter who only silently pleaded at him for let her play with Kaito.

"Actually there is-" "Not a problem at all!" Chisaki glared at you as you kneeled in front of Haru.

Tonight was supposed to be betwen you two while the brat went to bed... Not one where the number of kids duplicated...

"Go on the living room Haru-chan! Im sure Kaito will love the idea of a sleep over." You smiled when she widened her dark eyes before looking up at her father, who only sighed and nodded, watching the girl excuse herself and run to the room.

"Have on your mind that you ruined an intimate night between me and my wife Chrono." Chisaki growled as Kurono apologized and left the house along with the precepts, again, thanking you both.

"What's even the matter Kai? Haru never bother us." You asked as Chisaki sighed and pulled you to his chest.

"Its not exactly the girl the problem here, its more about-"

Two loud yelps were hearded making both of you jump while shortly after a lair of giggles filled the house as Kaito screamed 'I WON'

"The brat..." groaned Chisaki as you giggled while bringing him closer.

"Mind looking at them for a while as I make some snacks for us? I think it will be a little fun." He arched one of his eyebrows at you.

"You're sick for thinking thhat two children screaming is fun."

"If I was sick you wouldn't even touch me, less alone have a perfect little boy with me, my handsome yakusa boss." You made your way to the kitchen as Chisaki sighed.

"'Perfect', yeah right." Mumbled sarcastically Chisaki while he chuckled at your attempt to send him a glare.

Kai depared with both children laying on the ground on their stomachs, playing a board game that he used to play as a child.

"Brat, where did you find this?" Asked the man as he sitted down on the couch pointing at the board.

Haru yelped at the sudden appearance of Chisaki but shortly after calmed down while Kaito smirked at his father, still with both dices on his closed hands.

"Mommy and I were cleaning one room and found this!" He throws the dice and cheered at seing the numbers while Hari mumbled a "beginner's luck". Chisaki stared at the board and mentally facepalmed.

"Kaito. You need to get a lair of five's. Not six... You need to get back." He deadpanned as Kaito glared at him before picking the manual and read the instructions quickly while Haru contained her giggles.

"No daddy, it says right here that 'if you got a pair of six you are allowed to choose the destiny of your adversary and to continue your path.'" He pointed at the rule as he showed to his father. Chisaki looked and was surprised to see that the toddler was correct.

"What the hell? I remember that it was five when I played this for the last time." He mumbled picking the old manual with his gloved hands.

"The age are kicking on you daddy?" Asked innocently the boy but with the lresence of his famous devilsh little smirk while the giggles of Haru filled the room.

"I beg you pardon little rascal?" Growled Chisaki as he glared at his smirking son.

Oh no he didn't.

Chisaki picked an cushion up and agressively threw at the floor before sitting on it.

"Both of you restart this game now. I will show what the age does to a man you damn brat." Kaito gleamed happily at noticing that his dad was going to play while Haru scotted over a little more to have better vision on the board.

You carefully bringed the snacks on a tray, and as you got near the room, the more you heard tiny giggles and Chisaki complains. You picked curiously before entering, and you swear your heart just melted.

Chisaki, with his typical bored expression, was sitting down at a pillow as the two kids giggled at seing the adult explain the rules like he was explaining an strategy of war.

"You three good?" You asked as you placed the goodies on the coofe table. Kaito and Haru gaved you two thumbs up while your husband looked at dead in the eyes, extremely serious, holding in his gloved hand a pair of dices.

"I'm going to crash our son and his friend." He simply stated as the two children stared at him with wide eyes.

"Uh... why?" You asked smilling but still a bit of nervousness and confusion on your voice.

"You don't simply insult an yakusa boss my dear (y/n)." He threw the dices, which landing perfectly on a pair of six "Our son should know that by now." The two children gasped and started to beg to Kai to teach him his secret and your husband immediately refused and ordered them to start to play.

"Mommy wanna join us?" Kaito looked up at you as you offered an tiny sandwich to him with a napkin.

You shocked your head smiling at your son, who pouted, as you did the same thing with Haru.

"Are you sure miss (Y/N)? This way we could make teams like 'girls vs boys!'"

You were going to answer if it wasn't for your two boys saying in union a 'no' before Kaito bitted on his sandwich and Kai bringed you gently to the floor besides him, already with a comfy pillow on the ground for you to sit.

You and Haru exchanged looks before giggling.

It came a hour that both childs were with puffy eyes, their tiny bodies begging to sleep.

But your stubborn husband wanted to keep playing for rub in his son's face later his victory.

"Each cause leads to a consequence, that's his, my angel." He said before throwing the dices and landing again on a lair of six.

You looked at him for a second before he smirked and hitted slightly with his gloved finger his son's forehead.

"I won."

"No fair!" Whined the boy sleepily as Haru was already almost passed out on his shoulder.

"Okay you two. Time to rest." You said as you gently lifted Kaito and Haru from the ground and start to lead them to the bedroom.

"I want revenge tommorow." Kaito said before hugging his father quickly on his neck "Good night daddy." Chisaki hummed in response as he scratched at little his neck.

"Have a goodnight mister Overhaul sir." Sleepily mumbled Hari which Kai also nodded as he pick it up the board and organized back on their box.

You came back as soon as you out the toddlers to sleep and encounter Kai looking at the door and calling silently for you to come sit with him.

"Had fun?" You teased as he glared at you while enveloping your figurine in his strong arm.

"That is not for fun, its a form of to develop your strategies and also the neurons of the brain."

"Love. Is a board game." You giggled as he scoffed.

"A very serious one if I do say myself." He chuckled when you laughed, gently laying your head on the crook of his neck as he inhaled your scent deeply.

"You could've participated. I wouldn't mind having you as a partner in crime." Growls on your ear as you smirked up at him.

"And betray my own son? Such a devilish action don't you think?" You asked wrapping your arms around his neck, while his went to your waist.

"You married one angel." He nipped in your neck slightly "It's definitely not a surprise."

You both just went to take things further until Kaito barged in the room making you yelped at the noise as Chisaki pulled you in a protective embrace before getting irritaded at seing his son on the door, breathing heavily.

"Goddammit Kaito ever heard of knocking?! Its a polite thing to do." Groaned Chisaki.

This brat always ruined his fun...

"Sorry! Really sorry! But Haru woke up screaming and now she's crying! Mommy, Daddy please help, I don't know what to do!" The boy pleaded.

Chisaki and you changed looks before both of you got uo and made your way to the room, while Kai picked his cellphone and saw that Kurono was coming back earlier with the gang.

Thank the heavens.

You arrived at the room and your heart break at seing the usual calm and sweet girl crying desperately as she covered her face.

"Haru-chan?" You cooed, slowly getting closer, the girl flinched at the mivement but immediately relaxed a little at seing it was only you.

"Haru-chan what happened? A nightmare?" She nodded before bursting into tears again while Kaito sitted at her side and patted gently her head.

"I-I saw mother b-bursting into the door and-! A-and-! A-and she slapped me and w-wouldn't stop! O-Only when daddy came in she stopped and t-treated me well!" She manage to say between sobs and she suddenly latched herself onto you pleading for her father.

"It's okay Haru-Chan it's okay. Your dad is already coming." You looked behind you and saw your husband talking on the phone.

"Haru-chan! You don't need to fear your stupid old hag." Says Kaito as he approached her and placed his hand on her shoulder catching her attention.

"You don't need to fear because you're the daughter of uncle Chrono, one of the most powerful members of the yakusa excluding my daddy... And if she ever tries to get closer to you he will beat her up!" The girl smiled as she let go of you and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

"Also." Said Kaito "You're my friend. So I will make sure she never gets even an inch closer to you ever again." The girl widened her eyes.

"You promise?" Kaito finally smiled brightly as he linked her pinky with his and gave a squeeze.

"Yeah. Promise!"

It didn't take long to Hari come and pick his already sleeping daughter; which by the way was a struggle to get off of your son tiny arms; apologizing for the probably uncomfortable moment, but you and Chisaki just waved off.

Hari explained the whole story, saying that Haru's mother was a greddy and totally sick in the head woman, who had started to drink it and constantly beat it up the little girl, and when he went to visit she always hidded Haru, if she had evident bruises? On the closer claiming that she had left her with her parents... It took a while for him to discover but just three months ago he got the custody of his daughter and put the woman on the jail.

When Chrono left, you look at Chisaki, who only sighed and bringed you close.

"I knew it thete was something wrong..." you mumbled on his shirt, feeling his gloved hands caressing your scalp gently as he hummed.

"He didn't finish his job. He told me that the moment she got oit of that place he would make her oay the double of what his daughter had suffered..."

"You're going to help?" You asked worriedly but he only shake his head.

"He wants to do that alone. Personal business." He guided you to your shared room as you hummed in understatement.

"Is good that Hari soften because of her." You commented as Chisaki scoffed.

"If you say so, but he can't let his guard down that easy."

"Oh please you soften a little bit because of Kaito as well!" You smiled gently at him receiving a death glare of his.

"Sure. I even crushed him on that board earlier. Definitely softened." He said sarcastically.

He has but like hell he would admit it.

[hprarepairnet]

what my hands were made for

get to know your members challenge: favourite rare-pairs – oliver wood & marcus flint (1/5) - maggie

setting: soul mates AU word count: 1826

Tell me I'm what your hands were made for Tell me I'm who your mouth was made for -       Tegan and Sara, Come On

There had been a small silver Quaffle inked into the skin on Oliver's right hipbone since before he knew how to walk. His mother had gasped delightedly the day it had appeared, shimmering onto his skin as if by magic.

Or, well, it was magic. Some of the oldest magic that existed, and nearly as rare as well. Often, they were called soul marks, though so few people got them that no name was even really needed when they did show up. They marked the presence of a soul mate, another individual who was so perfect for you that you were destined to be together not only in this life, but all lives. Time, space, and other human matters were unimportant - if a soul mate existed, your futures were linked inextricably together, despite the consequences.

And often, there were consequences. The fates were generally content to leave matching up to individuals. Most people tended to gravitate to their best matches, but soul mate’s relationships were so steeped in passion that sometimes there were... problems. Because great passion often manifested as anger, as pure raw emotion, and soul mates had a history of upsetting each other. Sometimes irretrievably. And thus, the fates intervened, and created a way for two people to know if their passion was rooted in something much, much deeper.

Oliver had always had a passion for Quidditch. Even without the mark on his skin, he had wanted to fly. Tumble through the air, skim the sky with his toes. It only made it better to know his chosen mate would share that passion.

He had asked his mother once what his mate's mark would look like - when he was young enough to believe she held the answers to the world in her small open palm. 

Helen had smiled indulgently down at her young son, but shook her head sadly. Because the truth was there was no way of knowing exactly. It wouldn't be the same as Oliver's, it would represent him as a person and probably match the Quaffle. But he would know, she said, as soon as he saw it.

Oliver had asked then when he got to know. When would he meet her, his soul mate?

And Helen's smile had grown even sadder, because that was the worst part. As much as a soul mark was a blessing, rare and ancient magic that proved love and passion beyond your wildest dreams, that proved there was someone out there formed by the gods just for you, it was not a guarantee. Despite the best intents of the fates, soul mates did not always find each other. The world had grown and kept growing, and soul marks were rare and often kept a secret when they did appear - for reasons Oliver had yet to ascertain. And the unfortunate truth was that once you had a soul mate, you would never be truly and completely happy with someone else.

The first goal that Oliver saved was a Quaffle thrown by Marcus Flint. It hit him in the stomach and he had nearly slid backwards off his broom, but despite the Chaser's superior strength and power, Oliver emerged victorious. He glanced up and met a pair of dark brown eyes, and his stomach had clenched, and then the Slytherin sneered and spun and was gone. 

And Oliver was left with the strangest feeling in his stomach, that something very very important had just happened.

Oliver liked Angelina. And Katie. And Alicia. He liked Cho too, though she was quiet, and a seeker – which didn’t feel right. But none of them were quite what he was looking for. None of them made his heart beat fast and his hands shake and all the other things he figured would happen when he met his soul mate.

He had never entirely considered the possibility that maybe he wasn’t looking for a woman.

Sure, he noticed that sometime in the locker rooms his eyes were drawn to the smooth planes of Charlie Weasley’s chest. That he couldn’t picture small hands on his body. Sometimes he wondered what it would feel like to have stubble brush over his cheeks. 

Mostly, he focused on flying. He focused on winning.

Oliver was in seventh year when he noticed it.

He was sitting behind Marcus in Divination trying to see something in his crystal ball when Percy made some remark about ‘pointless work’ and ‘studying for N.E.W.T.S’. Oliver had looked up to roll his eyes at his academically-obsessed best friend when Marcus turned his head to the left and Oliver noticed.

A set of Quidditch hoops, shimmering and golden, behind Marcus’s left ear. They were small, and to anyone else they might just be a magical tattoo designed to show off the Slytherin’s love of the game. But Oliver knew better. He wasn’t sure how, but as soon as he saw them he knew exactly what they were, and his hand dropped unconsciously onto his right hip.

A soul mark.

His soul mark.

Suddenly, there was a commotion at the front of the room. Trelawney was standing at the front of the room, a long bony finger stretched out in the direction of Marcus and Oliver.

Marcus turned completely in his seat to raise an eyebrow at Oliver, and Oliver was suddenly reminded that the opposing captain had changed over the summer. Longer hair, slightly spiked upwards. His teeth had been fixed, and even though he was sneering it was different and Oliver felt that same clenching feeling in his stomach that he’d felt all those years ago with that very first Quaffle.

Trelawney was still staring, her large eyes blown wide and her hand shaking as she watched them both. “Impossible…” She whispered, head shaking back and forth. “And yet… Touched by the fates themselves-”

Oliver jumped out of his seat, suddenly terrified and not wanting Trelawney to out his secret. Not sure why it was a secret, just sure that it couldn’t be Marcus! They were enemies, they were rivals – they were both men.

“Oliver?” Percy asked, carefully, reaching a hand out for his best friend to tug him back into his seat. 

“I… I feel sick. I have to go.” Oliver announced, and turned on his heel and ran.

Percy was the first person he told. 

His friend had been so worried about his strange behaviour in class, and Oliver just felt like he needed to tell someone, so he told the whole story, start to finish. From the mark on his hip, to the matching one on Marcus’s neck. From his worries about ever even finding his match to his completely new set of worries about the fact that his match was not only a man but also Marcus Flint.

He was totally, utterly, and completely fucked.

Percy had, thank Merlin, taken it all in stride.

And then he said Oliver had to tell Marcus.

And soon.

Because chances like this didn’t just come up for everyone. In fact, they came up for almost no one. And of course, there were consequences.

Oliver told Marcus at the end of the year. 

They played their last ever game against each other and Oliver won and it was all he ever wanted. His heart was soaring and he was elated and excited and really fucking proud, but there was a little nagging feeling tugging on his heart. That he wanted to share it. That he wanted to check in on Marcus.

That he wanted to kiss him.

It had taken him months to get used to the fact of his match. Months to get over the whole sexuality crisis, and the whole Marcus Flint crisis. But he was here now, and suddenly it was overwhelming with the amount that he wanted and needed and couldn’t wait another minute.

So he snuck into the Slytherin locker room after the game. He had on good authority that Marcus would be there the longest, standing under the hottest shower and running through everything that he did wrong, every reason why he lost.

Marcus was there, but he wasn’t in the shower anymore. He was standing in the middle of the locker room with a towel slung low across his hips, water droplets clinging to his chest and running in rivulets over the planes of his muscles.

Oliver’s mouth went dry.

His shoe scuffed and Marcus looked up immediately, catching his gaze, eyes narrowing.

“Wood.” He began, lifting a hand to run through his hair and shake some of the water out of it.

“Flint.” Oliver responded, swallowing hard. “I, uh,”

“Came to rub it in?” Marcus retorted, turning back to his locker. “Whatever. We beat you for years – you just got lucky today.”

Oliver shook his head, and then realized Marcus couldn’t see. “No.” He said, clearly, stepping closer to the other man. “We have to talk.”

Marcus’s shoulder’s dropped and he glanced back at Oliver. “Merlin. What on earth could we ever have to talk about?”

Shutting his eyes, Oliver counted to five and then reached down, tugging up the shirt of his robes. He pushed at the top of his pants just a little, baring his hipbone to the man in front of him. “This.”

Marcus turned fully and took three steps to Oliver, before he spotted the Quaffle and his eyes grew wide.

“Fuck.”

Oliver nodded. “Yeah.” He said, and then laughed nervously. “Never would have guess that you…”

“How long have you know?” Marcus interrupted, and then dropped to his knees to get a better look. Oliver swallowed again at the sight of the other mans dark head so close to his cock. If his Quidditch pants hadn’t been so thick, he might have felt Marcus’s hot breath against his skin.

“Um,” Oliver began, thinking quickly. “October.” He admitted.

“What?!” Marcus snapped, glancing upwards.

Oliver shrugged. “I didn’t… I wasn’t sure if…” He took a breath, summoned his Gryffindor courage. “I was scared.”

Marcus stood, and was now so close to Oliver that he had to close his eyes to stop from crossing them. “Brave little Gryffindor,” Marcus began, and Oliver could almost feel him grinning. “Scared of me.”

Oliver blinked his eyes open and forced them to focus on Marcus’s face. “Look. I wasn’t planning on it being you, Flint. No point getting all pissy at me-”

Marcus’s hand was cupping his jaw then, thumb brushing over his cheek bone. Oliver swallowed once more and stopped talking. “Shut up, Wood.” He mumbled.

And then, he kissed him. And the world stopped.

“Oh.” Oliver whispered, when they broke apart and his head stopped spinning and everything settled slowly back to earth around them.

“Still scared?” Marcus asked, though his voice was tentative and breathy and his eyes were closed now too.

“No.” Oliver admitted, and his smile cracked wide and Marcus returned it and Oliver knew, without a doubt, that they were exactly where they were meant to be.