#tsote

[comicgoblinwrites]

9 Lines, 9 people

Tagged by @winterandwords— thanks!

Share nine lines, tag nine people.

In celebration of finishing the query draft for TSOTE (and submitting two queries, ah!) here is a bit from The Sound of the End:

Wet sand squished under the new boots I had gotten in town, fountaining up through surrounding clam tunnels. The drag marks from my kayak reached halfway up the beach, so there was no chance of it getting taken by the tide. I set off between the small dunes, sand fleas and seagulls hopping out of my way. The wind had picked up, whisking grains of sand across the spit. I hiked in a ways then started down the spit. Eventually I ended up at the top of one of the larger dunes, seated and looking out toward the ocean. Morro Rock loomed over the beach in the distance. I was glad the creatures in town seemed to have little interest in exploring the spit. If they did I would be stuck on my boat almost twenty-four seven, and I would be going insane.

If you had to guess what genre this book was, what would you say?

Tagging: @kiraofthewind @faelanvance @creatrackers @weaponizedtit @sunfloweringstories @lightningfiction @librarysilverfish @tisiphonewolfe @elizaellwrites

[comicgoblinwrites]

That would be Darcy for me, from my book As We Run (post apocalypse). One of her first interactions with one of the other characters (someone she knew before the apocalypse) is hitting him and then passing out because she was badly injured at the time. and her second interaction is trying to hit him again. To be fair, he DID kind of abandon her at the beginning of the apocalypse, and she DOES kind of blame him for her family dying.

Other punch first talk later characters are: Maeve (TFBS), and Sera (The Darkness Inherent). I’m not sure what it says that a lot of my MCs are of this persuasion…

OKAY!

WRITEBLRS if you're seeing this, you're legally obligated to reblog with an answer, and then a new question for the next person!

Here's the start:

Which of your OCs is most likely to punch somebody in the face?

[theinvisiblespoon]

I posted 4,081 times in 2022

That's 127 more posts than 2021!

51 posts created (1%)

4,030 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cr4y0nn

@meltedstairs-deactivated20211103

@ironwoman359

@elytrians

@cindershitpost

I tagged 352 of my posts in 2022

#tsm - 110 posts

#taylor - 18 posts

#ask - 10 posts

#unreality - 7 posts

#up late update - 5 posts

#my music - 5 posts

#music notes - 5 posts

#tsote - 4 posts

#anon - 4 posts

#raccoon post - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 131 characters

#yknow when you're in a group project and you've done all the work and in the credits it's like work by me slides by me script by me

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

pov its thanksgiving and you have no concept of family

Next up: STARTOFTHEEND - a musical that never was Glide - the mc music disc that never was

See Full Playlist || Show Lyrics (available below!)

So many faces at the family reunion So many people I've n-n-never known Empty spaces at the family reunion And everyone everyone c-c-came alone

Come take a seat There's no one to meet Cousin's a stupid made-up word We're all out of place It's nearly a race Coming up second last and third At the family reunion

So many faces f-f-family reunion So many people I've n-n-never known Empty spaces f-f-family reunion E-everyone everyone c-c-came alone

You're speakin clearer You know they overheard Can't you find the words C-can't you find the words it's a You're speakin clearer You know they overheard Can't you find the words C-can't you find the can't you find the Family reunion

69 notes - Posted November 23, 2022

#4

dni if you live in the us, have a partner, used to be a teacher, have more than five wips, still enjoy undertale, know the difference between a major chord and a picardy third, your name starts with a t, are adhd, can hit an E6, have a pj shirt that says off duty, are back into an old hyperfixation, or own the paid version of noteflight

74 notes - Posted June 3, 2022

#3

ive been playing so much minecraft. here’s the music disc that never was

Next up: Rain (loop) - chill rainy vibes that go on repeat

See Full Playlist || Show Lyrics

75 notes - Posted February 4, 2022

#2

y'know what? fuck you *kisses you directly on the lips*

135 notes - Posted January 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

sopranos are just like. yeah thats a pretty comfortable range for me :) and sing a note that kills god

230 notes - Posted December 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ironwoman359]

what if we were both girls and were foils to one another and then fell in love but it doesnt work out and we split apart what then

Well that seems hard to believe…that’d be a tragedy

[aliceinthewritingrepublic]

The Spiral on the Edge - VI

Story Title: The Spiral on the Edge

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki/Reader

Rating: MA

Story Tag: tsote

-

When you see an attractive stranger while partying, you decide that it has been too long since you’ve had an adventure. The exact terms of your loose liaison are soon put to the test.

-

Word Count: 2693

Without you asking him to, Katsuki had made room in his life for you. You were not sure whether he had done so intentionally or whether he had even noticed himself doing so – but it was undebatable that you were now a constant in the formula of his everyday life.

From your toiletries in the bathroom to the ever-respawning bottle of your favorite soda in the refrigerator, you had, for all intents and purposes, become the fourth teammate in the guys’ three-men living arrangement.

Today was not the first time you had taken part in mundane activities such as buying groceries, but for the first time, it was only Eijirou and you who were doing so together. And, going against all odds and all of your worries, it was not awkward at all.

“So, we got coffee, milk, bread and bottled water. We still need detergent and hand soap,” you recited, reading off the shopping list you had prepared on your phone.

“Hand soap? We never have hand soap,” Eijirou answered with surprising certainty, turning the shopping cart and heading down the aisle towards household necessities, you following closely behind him.

“Yeah, and I worry about what that says about your relationship with hygiene.” Their apartment was fairly clean, especially in the light of their being three male (barely-still-)teenagers, but you (rightly) attributed that to Katsuki’s neatness more than anything.

“Alright, alright, we are getting hand soap, new queen of the apartment.” His laugh was contagious.

“You don’t actually mind my being around so much, do you?” You were laughing along with him. Still, for a moment there, you were scared he was going to give you an answer you would not like.

“Not at all! You’re friendly, you clean up more of a mess than you make, and Bakugou’s less grumpy when you’re there. If anyone moves out, I vote it’s him.”

You scoffed. “You don’t actually mean that.”

He grinned his brightest of grins. “I really don’t. He’s kind of my best friend.”

Taking two pink bottles of detergent from the shelves and putting them inside the cart, you added onto your statement. “Besides, once he’s gone, I’m gone.”

“Right,” he said without missing a beat. “I forgot you’re a package deal. It’s still kinda hard to believe Bakugou has a girlfriend.”

The reply you had become used to giving to insinuations such as this one came without the need for you to exceed much thought. “I’m not his girlfriend.”

The noise Eijirou gave instead of saying anything in response said more than enough: Sure, if that’s what you want to believe.

“…and this concludes the perspective I wanted to share with you on the topic of secondary characteristics of less common quirks. Thank you for your attention. If you have any remaining questions, now’s the time to ask.”

While it may have sounded rather professional, that was only the case because you had repeated those sentences to yourself again and again last night until you had known them by heart. It was your first time speaking in front of an audience in years. Before you had been forced to press pause on your university career, you had somehow managed to avoid all seminars that required presentations as part of their grading system. Now, you had intentionally fit several of them into your semester schedule as a challenge to yourself. The first one was done with.

You could feel your heart beating in your tongue and you had stumbled over your words a few times. Your hands were clammy and shaking. But, and this was the most important notion to take away from today – you had survived.

The auditorium was too large for the two dozen people sitting in it. Their lack of further questions was almost certainly not due to your presentational skills but rather due to the general loss of enthusiasm students tended to experience at some point between their first and sixth semester.

After receiving some mostly favorable feedback from your professor, you left the building and headed off campus. You could not wait to tell your not-boyfriend about what you had achieved today.

Speaking of secondary characteristics of uncommon quirks – you had realized early on that Katsuki’s skin was flawless. For a while, you had chalked it up to simple great luck or a kind puberty. It was only after you had participated in several sessions of your aforementioned seminar about uncommon quirks that you had begun to entertain the possibility that those two phenomena might be related.

“So, not only do you get an awesome quirk, but it actually clears up your skin at the same time? That’s so unfair!” you complained from where you were sitting next to him on his bed.

“That’s just how glycerin works, woman.” His smirk let you know that although it was pure luck that he had been able to draw from such a good gene pool, he was at least a little proud of it.

“Still, it’s so not fair. Ten years from now, I’ll probably look twenty years older than I do now, and you’ll still be a walking skincare ad.”

“If that bothers you already, you’ll fucking love my mom. She’s almost fifty and looks like she never fucking turned thirty.”

You could have sworn that your heart stopped for about three and a half seconds right there. It was clear to you he had meant nothing by it. So, you decided to smooth it over by saying something by which you meant nothing at all, either.

“What reason would I have to meet my not-boyfriend’s mother? To congratulate her on her clear skin?”

“You could congratulate her on creating me, a.k.a. the greatest fucking thing that’s ever happened to you.” Considering how arrogant he could be and how dry he kept his voice when saying things like these, it could be difficult to mistake his specific brand of humor for serious statements. You, however, knew better.

Still, for a moment, you were inclined to grab a pillow from his bed and hit him over the head with it. Instead, you let yourself fall backwards so you were lying on the mattress. “Well, I guess you do have a handful of good qualities if I’m squinting. Five, maybe, if I were to count.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. You responded – very maturely – by sticking out your tongue at him. He accepted the unspoken challenge. Less than a moment later, he had you pinned underneath his body, straddling your thighs and holding your wrists above your head with both hands.

“Is fucking you until you can’t walk straight on the list?”

You arched your back, trying to push your breasts against his chest and whining when his grasp on you proved too tight for you to do so. “It’s at the very top,” you promised into his mouth, and then he was kissing you.

You had not had any alcohol since that fateful night at the club.

Letting down your guard around strangers made you feel threatened, so Katsuki and you had gone clubbing less and less, as well. Perhaps it was for the best – you were an adult after all, so maybe you could afford to have a lifestyle befitting one.

You also could not bring yourself to wear the clothes from that night again. So you packed them into a carton, along with some books that reminded you of the people that had gifted them to you and that were no longer part of your life. Then, you donated that box to the charity shop down the road from your home.

It was a shame that Katsuki’s room provided no other seating option for two besides his bed. Or maybe it actually was not that much of a shame, since it was your preferred place to be anyways. He had spent good money on the mattress, and your back agreed with you on the decision to spend as little time as possible at your own apartment. Said apartment was becoming more of a storage space than anything at this point.

What did the two of you even do together with all of those joint hours?

All kinds of things, really. A lot of it was sex, or lead-up to sex, or post-coital coexistence. Any time left over after subtracting those pastimes was just the both of you doing your own thing while coincidentally in the same room. You enjoyed it. You liked occupying the same space as him. You appreciated breathing the same air as him.

In all truth, you could probably spend the rest of your life lying next to him like this and simply looking at him.

He had not got dressed yet, but it was not like he had ever minded being nude. Reading the news on his phone, he was not looking in your direction, allowing you to watch him. You were plenty sure he still knew that you were watching him, however. He was more attentive than he would ever admit out loud, and somehow, he tended to simply know things.

Sometimes, you wondered what he saw in you. It was clear to you why you stuck with him. He was gorgeous, from his spiky blond hair to those red eyes you wanted to drown in, from the scar below his collarbone to his long, muscular legs. But beyond his picturesque body, beyond even the sex that was genuinely the best you had ever had, there was the fact that things were easy with him.

When you had told him about your disorder, you had expected it to be the end of your story. But it had not been. Instead, without wasting a lot of pretty words, he had simply accepted it as fact and moved on. It was what he did for everything you did and shared with him. When you had mentioned that you were going back to university, his response had been, “About time.”

(If he were anyone but himself, it would not have come across even nearly as supportive.)

When you had told him about how well your presentation had gone, he had asked, “What else had you expected?”

(And if he were anyone but himself, it would not have sounded nearly as proud.)

But he must have seen something in you, else he would not have kept you around for this long. You did not know what it was, but you were grateful for it nonetheless.

At this point, it was becoming hard to imagine a life without him.

It had always been hard for you to tell the difference between obsession and love. It was even more so now that Katsuki had made himself at home in the greater scheme of your life. But maybe you had been wrong to assume that you could only ever either be obsessed or in love. Maybe you had been so scared of anything that could at all be interpreted as something akin to a symptom of mania that you had never let yourself consider that one did not work without at least a tiny bit of the other.

After all, what was love if not a mild form of insanity?

The fancy-looking cream envelope had been sitting on Katsuki’s desk for weeks now. You had first noticed it when you had sat down there to work on your presentation. It had been in the way, and you had put it to the side without giving it much thought.

The next day, it had been right back in its former place, as if it had never been moved. Still, you gave it little to no thought.

A few days later, you were packing your bag, getting ready to go back to your own place for the first time in a week. (The mail did not check itself.) You set it on the desk chair while you were folding your worn clothes. (Perhaps, a load of laundry would also prove commendable.)

In doing so, you accidentally knocked over the folded card that was sitting upright on the desk, the surrounding envelope now gone. You set it back up, automatically reading the beginning of the first sentence. ‘You are cordially invited to…’

Then you stopped, a little annoyed that you had read anything at all. It was not your invitation, and thus none of your business. You made sure it looked untouched, finished packing and left.

A little while later, you found yourself in a hurry to arrive at university on time. The mornings were becoming colder, and, as these things with indirect proportionality tend to work, Katsuki’s bed was becoming harder to leave with each passing day. While you ran into the stairway with your hair yet unbrushed, your note pad lay on the desk, forgotten about.

It was a long day, which made your lack of note paper all the more jarring. When you came back to Katsuki’s that evening, your note pad was waiting for you. With the fancy invitation somehow having found its way on top of it. It became clear that these were not coincidences at all.

‘You are cordially invited to the 27th annual Heroes’ Gala to celebrate the strides our society has made since the advent of quirks and heroism. We will be accepting donations, all of which are to go into the Official Hero Registry’s fund to compensate and support civilians who have been hurt or who have experienced damage at the hands of villains. Please let us know whether you will be in attendance, and whether you will have someone joining you.’

Beneath the text, there was further information on the date, place and exact time.

You had not even taken your coat off yet, and you did not. Instead, you turned on your heel, walking towards the kitchen with the omnipresent invitation still in your hand.

Inside the kitchen, there was Katsuki in front of the stove, finishing dinner. (He liked to cook. You enjoyed your position as a beneficiary.) He did not even jump a little when you poked his lower back with the card – it seemed he had become so used to your presence that hardly anything surprised him anymore.

Without further greeting, you launched straight into the topic at hand. “So, where am I gonna find this next? Inside the closet, conveniently stored between my underwear?” You were trying hard not to sound as amused as you were. He was so bad at these things, and you loved him for it. It was getting harder not to think that word, love.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” was his reply, was his lie, because he could see the piece of paper in your hand and because he obviously knew what you were talking about.

“I’m talking about this charity gala thing. What is it?”

“It’s stupid, is what it is.” He was refusing to look at you, instead stirring the vegetables inside the pan with a lot more gusto than necessary. “It’s this shitty important hero bullshit. It’s dumb as hell.”

“And also, you really want to go there,” you added, voicing out loud what he was incapable of saying.

A lack of reply was also a reply.

After a moment of silence, you continued. “You know, I’m just gonna put this out there. If you want me to go with you, you might just have to actually ask me.”

As the seconds passed, the distance between you did not change, but your perception of it did. Eventually, you were unable to take both the silence and the distance, so you had to get rid of at least one of them. You stepped behind him, wrapping your arms around his slim waist and resting your cheek between his shoulder blades. He smelled like frying oil and sweat and all-around perfect. The heat from the stove reminded you that you were still wearing your coat. It did not matter.

What mattered was that after a much-too-long silence for a simple question such as this one, he asked, “Would you?”

You had had your fair share of hesitation for one night. For one lifetime. “I would.”

[scurpmun]

Safi'Jiva.

Safi'jiiva. He is a simple gentle sailor... jk jk.

The theme is definitely a step up in my opinion from the other siege world had but we'll talk about that some other time. The start up being the choir and then the orchestra starts flowing in. This theme says "This dragon is dangerous. And it taking all this bioenergy is not good at all."

Then the theme change when it's targeting you. Oh lord the bit of fear that starts to put in. (No this isn't the song I say that is scary) but it is a theme that is definitely making you panic a bit right? I remember getting targeted my first time doing the seige and oh boy the theme change kinda freaked me out a bit.

But final phase. The just the way the colors are. And the change in the choir's intensity. This screams that this is you final chance to take him down. And it's gonna be a fight that really tests your teamwork to make sure A. You keep his ire. B. You get more boulders to protect you and your allies. And C. You just don't run out of healing items. It's telling you it's you or this dragon... (unless you know. He runs away like a little bitch.)

I would talk about the zone transition music and the sapphire of the emperor but I think they are self explanatory. Only thing I'll say on tSotE music is it's just a drum beat to match a heart beat to show how quiet it gets.

[onaubade]

International Reaction to the Iros Summit

Plesus Wise Posthumously discovered in their study, hidden amongst maps

One of the more interesting events in recent history is the precedent set by the Iros Summit on the table of international justice. For context, a growing movement over the past century amongst Rodent activist groups internationally has been the Revelations Movement - a philosophical and spiritual movement with ties to public disobedience and unrest. One of their chief pillars of discontent has been the perceived grudge over the snubbing of the alleged Tlatapan Massacre, an event during the formation of the modern state of Alai and the collapse of the last known sovereign ratfolk regime on the international stage.

Alai refuses to comment publically, though members of it’s community have set up a memorial museum on the site itself. The Revelations Movement decries the refusal to acknowledge the massacre at all, chiefly of Alai but also internationally as no major government had publicly recognised the event. Any potential international movements were stonewalled by Logria and Essif, who both had a vested interest in maintaining the Alai regime.

With the movement growing, increasing numbers of lesser states were interested in defusing the tensions of their Rodent minorities. They turned to the longtime rival of Alai, it’s northern neighbor Ebresh, for a location to call a summit to for the first time have a serious discussion of the claims and their veracity. All too eager to weaken Alai, Ebresh offered it’s capital and funding for the entire event, leading to a much larger than expected turnout. At the height of it’s present membership, there were nearly thirty nations represented and speaking at the summit.

Such a turnout without the presence of any ‘Major’ power was entirely novel for such a temporal matter. The Prince of Kerta speaking in confidence to the Emperor of Great Roj, with the First Citizen of Tsote interjecting to inform them of the results of the latest minor debate. Merchant Royalty from Seerpi, Kikara, and Tespua all in the same room and on speaking terms. Such people from all over the world, with such differing opinions, unified at least temporarily in debate over an issue of justice, of morality? Simply unheard of.

Despite a number of delegates walking out of talks, most notably the representative from Saranka, after fifteendDays the Summit reached an astonishing conclusion.

The Tlatapan Massacre did indeed happen.

It found that Strifeform Chords did indeed march with genocidal intent into a dense population center which had offered a limited surrender. It found that Alai had operated ‘against Divine morals’ in it’s conduct in the war leading up to the atrocity. It found that Alai owed the Rodent species a territorial equivalent to make their new home - which the Ebreshi cheerfully suggested should effectively constitute a significant buffer state along their border with Alai.

What is perhaps even more astonishing is that neither Logria or Essif made significant movements to suppress or destroy the effects of the summit; although Essif did issue a formal warning to Ebresh, which in practical terms was little more than a light tap on the wrist. Alai of course considered this an act of war by Ebresh and began fortifying the border, their anger accompanying many reprisal attacks terrorising various Ratfolk communities around the world.

In achieving it’s primary goal of international attention, the Iros Summit had one final significant outcome: a delegation was sent to Alavus and up to the great rings, to directly petition The Successor herself. Though it will not be for many decades before an answer is received, what was once a novelty of international politics may offer a fascinating insight into the modern legal dynamics of the Temporal and the Divine.

[elliedijulio]

The State of the Ellie: December 2017

{New Post! Finally!} The State of the Ellie: December 2017

This is going to be a quick and dirty (and super late) version of tSotE because, as you may have noticed, I’ve been scarce online for the last month. It’s not because I don’t love you or have forgotten how to work a keyboard; it’s that I’ve been hella busy, and the way my life is constructed these days, that means internet (and, sadly, non-immediate connection) falls to the bottom of the pile.

O…

[stevenro]

i finally got chapter two up so maybe check it out !!!

[comicgoblinwrites]

Sunrise.

A little illustration from a while ago. Darcy, from The Sound of the End.

[7g-advertising-blog]

Oasis fundraiser Christmas Ball... Live performance from Tsote

[theinvisiblespoon]

that moment when you realize that youre projecting harder than you thought you were. anyway im in shambles

[aliceinthewritingrepublic]

The Spiral on the Edge - V

Story Title: The Spiral on the Edge

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki/Reader

Rating: MA

Story Tag: tsote

-

When you see an attractive stranger while partying, you decide that it has been too long since you’ve had an adventure. The exact terms of your loose liaison are soon put to the test.

-

Word Count: 4524

When consciousness slowly returned you to this plane of reality, you were unsure whether you had been asleep or unconscious. While you could not remember dreaming, you had a distinct feeling of time having passed, which spoke for the former. Opening your eyes was a chore, but you could already feel your heartbeat speeding up at the uncertainty of where you were going to find yourself.

The familiar ingrain wallpaper on the barely illuminated ceiling coupled with the barely-there weight of the thin blanket covering you brought knowledge of your present location. You were… home. Frantically, you tried to remember how you got here, coming up with nothing but the not-quite-quantifiable feeling that you were missing memories that would explain everything.

Your related attempt to sit up proved more difficult than expected as pain consumed the left side of your head. All in all, it was a little as if there were an invisible weight trying to keep you in a lying position. You felt so, so worn.

“[Name]?” You knew that voice, despite its unusually meek quality. What was Katsuki doing here? He had no business being here, in this place, where there were countless reminders of all the parts of your life you kept separate from him, where there were blister packs in various states of fullness lying on the nightstand, where there –

Thinking hurt.

There was a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back down onto the mattress. You let yourself be pulled, putting up no resistance and closing your eyes again. You felt all kinds of wrong, and trying to keep your eyes open was not helping.

“You’re home. You’re safe.” If you had been able to properly get your thoughts in order, perhaps you would have questioned how unlike him those words were, but thinking was becoming harder by the instant.

For now, your body helped itself to the rest it desperately needed. Already, you were falling back asleep.

This time around, you dreamed vividly, as if your mind were trying to make up for its period of inaction. The meaning of the shapes and colors in your head was already beginning to fade the second you woke up once more.

You felt like half a person again, which was more than could have been said of you earlier.

Still, you were quite weak as you opened your eyes properly. You were in your own bed, but not alone, which was an anomaly of great proportions. Next to your head, sitting against the headboard with crossed legs, was Katsuki. His head was leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, mouth slightly open. His breathing was quiet and even.

How the fuck had it ever come to this? This was not what you had wanted, at all. Now he had taken a step behind the veil you had so carefully crafted, and that was irreversible. You had a strong premonition that this was going to mean the end of whatever the two of you were.

You slowly untangled yourself from your blanket, that small amount of movement already exhausting you to no end. But you needed to use the bathroom. Placing one shaky foot on the floor, you were almost up when a cramp shot through your calf. Through pure instinct, you pulled your leg back up onto the bed, pressing the heel of your hand against the quivering muscle to alleviate the pain and make this stop.

Katsuki groaned, awoken by the sounds of your pain.

Already, there was a hand on your shoulder again, distracting you from the slowly fading pain and making you turn your head to him. Your gaze was still a little unfocused, but you could still make out the blankness of his expression. You had never seen him expressionless. It almost made you shiver.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice as devoid of assessable emotion as his mien.

“Kind of,” you tested your voice. Your tongue was too dry and too heavy for your mouth. “Not really. Maybe?” Speaking was harder than thinking, but both were possible again at this point. “Was I…” You swallowed, but it did nothing to make your mouth feel less like a desert. “…awake before? Or did I dream that?”

“For about a minute. Remember anything else?”

You searched your brain, trying to get everything that had become jumbled back into order. (Not an easy feat, considering your mind might best be likened to an M. C. Escher painting, even on the best of days. Today was a particularly bad day.)

“I remember being outside. Then dancing.” You also remembered leaving your drink unsupervised like an idiot, but did not want to put the words out there. You were able to reprehend yourself well enough without saying it out loud. “I think I hit my head?” Reaching up, you could feel a bump near your crest. Touching it stung, making you pull air through your clenched teeth. “But nothing else,” you finished your incomplete retelling of last night’s events.

“You were really fucked up all of a sudden. You fell into a wall at the club. I caught you before you fell again, but I used too much force.” There was still no change in his disturbingly calm tone as he pointed to your right upper arm. You followed the indicated path with your eyes and found bruises that clearly resembled fingers there. Lifting your left hand and putting the pads your fingers on the marks, you silently remarked that he did have big hands.

He had not apologized, but it was implied.

When you said nothing, he kept chronologizing the timeline of what had happened. “You couldn’t fucking walk, and you almost couldn’t fucking talk, so I got you out of there. I was gonna take you to my place, but you kept saying ‘home’ like a broken record.” He paused. You pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and resting your chin on top. It was anything from unsettling to downright wrong to be told about things you had experienced without being able to form any coherent memory of them, even now. “I got the address from your ID.”

Your carefully crafted front had been a house of cards, and it had crumbled without you there to maintain it. It was difficult to decide whether to be more upset about this or about the fact that someone had apparently thought you passable enough a victim to spike your drink. Both made you feel incredibly powerless.

“I think someone drugged me.” The words had escaped you before you had had a chance to reconsider them. You did not appreciate the emotional tone your voice had taken on, did not like to be forced into such vulnerability.

Thankfully, your body was willing to remind you that you had a good excuse to flee the scene for just a moment. Once more, you moved to get up, more successful this time, though you were still shaky on your legs. You put one hand against the wall for support as you had to concentrate hard to set one foot in front of the other.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Katsuki asked, his choice of words – as per usual – not a good indicator of whether he was actually angry or not. At some point, he had stood up and was now hovering behind you.

“Bathroom.” You were not so much being curt as you were simply too exhausted to form longer sentences. “I’d like to piss on my own, though.” You were already combusting internally from the embarrassment of having been dependent on him. Anything more, and you would die of shame.

His exasperation was tangible. “Keep the door unlocked, idiot. If you’re not back in ten, I’m coming to get you, and I don’t give a fuck whether you’ve got your pants down or not.”

While going about your business, you held your head in your hands, trying to make sense of everything. Already, you were thinking you had been too abrasive towards him just now. He was always blunt and vulgar, and you knew perfectly well that he was not trying to talk down to you. If anything, he was probably unsettled by last night’s events, maybe even worried. (You hated it when people worried about you. It was even worse to imagine him of all people worrying about you. But he had no way of knowing that.)

You washed your hands and wiped your face with a wet cloth, ridding your skin of the crudest share of ruined make-up. After that, you drank about one liter of cold water straight from the tap. Then, you used some mouthwash, the imagined exertion of using a toothbrush already too much in your current state. Without your allotted ten minutes having passed, you stepped back into the main room of your small apartment.

“Hey,” you said and then paused for a moment because you had caught yourself wanting to call him by a nickname, but all that had come to mind was lover, which was way too intimate to say aloud. You sat down on the side of your bed and habitually reached for your phone, which was exactly where it was supposed to be – plugged into the charger next to your bed. No new messages, a fact you were thankful for right then.

“Thanks for charging my phone.” That was not what you had been wanting to say, but you meant it. “And thank you for getting me home safe.” That was what you had been wanting to say, and you also meant it.

While you began your google search, he answered to only your latter declaration of gratitude. “What the hell was I supposed to do, fuck off and leave you there?”

You were unsure whether he could see your bitter smile from his position. “That’s probably what whoever drugged me was hoping for.”

“But why go for a woman who obviously isn’t alone?”

Discussing the precise parameters of the attempted assault on you made you feel uneasy and very empty inside. “Who the fuck knows. Maybe they thought that you didn’t actually know me, and if I were out of it, you’d leave me there. Or maybe they just thought I seemed easy.”

“I’m gonna find and murder that fucker. And don’t even start with that ‘blaming yourself’ bullshit. You’re not easy.”

“I am, and you should know that better than anyone.” You were headed for a fight, you realized. And despite your head still not feeling quite right, you welcomed it. You preferred a quick and painful ending to a slow fadeout any day.

“Bullshit. Fuck that. And stop telling me I know shit. I know fuck-all about you. I had to check your ID for your address and last name, for fuck’s sake. And we’ve been fucking for seven months! Also, what the fuck are you doing?” He was referring to you still typing on your phone. “At least look at me while we’re talking!”

Since the end had now officially begun, you felt little inclination to keep information confidential anymore. “I’m looking up the most common types of roofies and trying to find out whether there’s a risk of adverse interaction with my antipsychotics.”

He did not know how to properly react to that information, if his silence was any indication.

“Fuck it,” you continued rather than to wait for him to think of something to say. “It’s not like I’m not gonna take my meds.” You’d been there before, and you were not keen on a replay of that spectacle, regardless of whether you were risking adverse effects or not.

One (surprisingly small) yellow pill later, you finally settled in properly next to him, back against the headboard.

“Look, Katsuki. When I went home with you for the first time, I assumed that it’d be a one-time thing. And then, when it wasn’t, I still thought that that… spark, or whatever, between us would eventually flicker out, and that we’d grow bored and stop seeing each other. I wasn’t planning on you becoming a fucking seven-month-stand.”

He made a sound then that was parts snicker and parts derision. Still, he shuffled closer, until his upper arm was pressed against your own. His skin seemed cold, but yours was colder. Fair enough, you thought, before continuing.

“And I don’t really like sharing anything about myself, because, to be frank, I’m not in the greatest place right now. I’m way better than I used to be, but not… good. And since we weren’t together or anything, it was easy to reason with myself that I didn’t need to tell you anything about me. And to be fair, you never really asked.”

He interrupted you then. “Yeah, because I got the message pretty fucking early that I wasn’t supposed to ask. I may be kind of an asshole, but I’m not unobservant enough to miss that you never fucking talk about yourself.” He was annoyed, and he had a right to be.

“I’m not accusing you. I was glad you never asked, because that made it easier for me.” You considered for a moment how to best put it into words he would understand. It was not as easy as it could have been, your general exhaustion blurring into the drowsiness from your medication. “It’s like… there’s all of this bullshit, and it’s not that far below the surface once you disturb the waters. It goes from ‘Hey, I’m [Name], I’m twenty-four,’ to ‘So what do you do for a living?’ to ‘I’m in university,’ to ‘What do you study?’ to ‘Human Quirk Biology,’ to ‘What semester are you in?’ to ‘I’m on a break right now,’ to ‘Why?’ to ‘Oh, I went kind of crazy and spent a while in a mental hospital and now I’m trying to get back on my feet,’ really quickly.”

You paused, giving him time to let that settle.

Against all of your expectations, he put his arm around you. You did not miss the fact that he placed his hand near your elbow rather than further up on your arm, avoiding the bruises from last night.

“You know,” he said, “I knew you were older than me, but I wasn’t expecting five damn years.”

His reply was so out there, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. For a moment there, you had forgotten how much you enjoyed being around him. This also reminded you that less than a day ago, you had been having the time of your life, getting the daylights fucked out of you in a bathroom stall. There must have been a fissure in time with how long ago that felt.

“That’s what you’re focusing on? Not the ‘I’ve been getting it on with a schizo’ part?”

“No, dumbass, I just don’t know what the fuck to say to that. So, does that mean you’re schizophrenic?”

“Schizoaffective. Not sure whether that information gives you something to work with or not.”

He just scoffed, squeezing you to his side. You understood the hint and moved on to explain. “Basically, I go through these manic episodes. They start out pretty nice, I’ll be in a great mood – downright ecstatic – for a while, and all is well. And then I start making all of these plans, and, at first, they’re realistic – maybe after I get my bachelor’s degree, I’ll go for a master’s. And then, they aren’t. Like, screw the master’s, Imma get a doctorate! And on the side, I’ll write a series of novels that will be great and everyone’s gonna read them and know my name! And then, it goes downhill fast. I don’t need sleep because I’m not like normal people! Also, things that hurt others can’t hurt me, because I’m superhuman! And that’s about the time it switches from manic to psychotic. I’m superhuman, but things aren’t working out the way I wanted them to, why is that? It’s because someone out there is scared of what I could do with my powers, and they’re pulling strings to keep me down. It has to be someone close to me, because they somehow know where I am and what I’m doing at all times. What if they implanted me with some kind of device and then erased my memory of it? Hasn’t the back of my neck been itchy for a few days now?”

You paused to catch your breath, because you had been ranting. Then, you decided you might as well go all out to emphasize the gravity of your condition. Maybe that way, he would not feel as bad about leaving when he did.

Reaching up, you lifted your hair from the back of your neck to the side. “That scar? It’s from when I tried to cut out a nonexistent chip with a pocket knife.”

That was when a shiver went through him, strongly enough for you to feel it. “That’s some fucked-up shit,” he pressed through his teeth. Still, he did not actually recoil from you, opting instead to hold onto you tighter.

You knew it was a crass thing to share, but you needed him to understand that your disorder was not some romanticizeable gimmick that bestowed temerity upon you. It was not a thing that would ever pass. It was a life sentence.

“I’m sorry for being graphic. I wish there were prettier words for it. But it was really bad. I was twenty-two at the time. They took me to a hospital, and after a while on medication, I got a lot better. Good enough to return to life as planned, as long as I was taking the antipsychotics. So that’s what I did. But I was taking a different drug then, and I had pretty bad side effects. I was tired basically twenty-four/seven. I felt like someone had wrapped me in bubble-wrap, and everything was dull and muffled. Oh, and guess what?”

“What,” he stated and did not guess.

“You know how I have a pretty big sex drive?”

“You tell me,” he deadpanned, motioning for you to keep talking.

“Well, I lost all of that too. And I wasn’t able to orgasm, no matter what I did.” You kind of wanted to wait for his reaction to that information, but decided that he deserved all of the story, which required you to get on with it. “So, I went off my meds, because everything sucked, and I told myself that my first episode had probably been a one-time thing, because – isn’t there a statistic that one in three people goes crazy at some point in their lives or something? That was about a year ago. Well, guess what, that was a bullshit idea, and I ended up relapsing. It wasn’t quite as bad as the first time, probably because I was admitted to a clinic pretty early on this time around. I started a new type of medication that doesn’t cause me tons of side effects. Been on it ever since.”

Perhaps, to put all of this into perspective, you could end the whole story on a more positive note, it occurred to you. “I’m going back to university once the new semester starts in a few weeks, too. So, I’m not… in as bad a place as I used to be, I guess.”

He made a quiet noise deep in his throat to signal that he realized you were done with your tale.

You felt like you had been talking for hours, although it had more realistically only been ten minutes. Your perception of time was genuinely crooked, and you were unsure whether it was a residuum of whatever had been given to you last night or simply a side effect of this situation that you had been entirely unprepared for.

“So,” he began eventually, the arm he had had around you all this time slowly sliding from around your shoulders. You tried your best to prepare yourself for the rejection that was sure to come. “You never told me about your disorder because, what? You thought I’d tell you to fuck off?”

“Well,” you answered and got up, having trouble looking him in the eye. This was getting dangerously close to the terrain of your feelings for him, a matter you would strongly prefer to leave untouched.

Slowly, and trying not to move your head too much, you took off the leggings and shirt you were still wearing from last night. You even still had your bra on. You appreciated the fact that Katsuki had not undressed you. You felt violated enough in your physical integrity as it was. (You did not mind him seeing you naked, as evidenced by the fact that you were changing in front of him without a second thought right now. But the idea of not being conscious while someone handled you was too unsettling for words.)

“Basically, I figure there’s not a lot of different ways to react to that kind of information. Either you think I’m making it up for attention, or you think it’s creepy, or you think you can save me. One isn’t true, one kind of is, I guess, and the last one’s impossible because it’s not a temporary or conditional thing. But yeah, I kinda assumed that either way, it’d end up with us parting ways, because you shouldn’t have to deal with my mental illness. It’s not like you’re my boyfriend.”

You took off your bra and then pulled on a fresh black top and a pair of plaid pajama bottoms. Looking attractive was not a priority at this point.

“Oh, fuck that, [Name].” You could actually hear him in- and exhaling, the strain of trying to contain himself obviously trying. “I get what you’re saying, but – shit, I’d really fucking appreciate it if you let me decide for myself what the hell I’m thinking or not?!”

He inarguably had a point. Of course it was unfair of you to preemptively ascribe to him one or several ways of thinking. But you had spent so much time considering and reconsidering all of these things in an attempt to avoid unnecessary pain whenever the inevitable rejection came – it was difficult to break out of this circular thought structure now.

He had more to say. “Obviously I’m not your fucking boyfriend. I barely actually know anything about you, we’ve been over this, damn it. And I still don’t fucking get it. I can know all the ways you like to be fucked, I can know that being talked down to during sex gets you off, but I can’t know anything else about you? Not even your fucking last name? And why, because I’m not your stupid boyfriend?”

“I just…” You sat on the bed again, legs crossed, facing him. It would have been easier not to look at him while admitting this, but you could not not look at him now. “I didn’t want to overshare. And it’s easier to say nothing at all than to avoid one specific topic, especially when pretty much any other topic is related to it somehow. I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to never see you again.” And, simply because you were already sorely vulnerable at this point and opening yourself further could not do anymore harm, “Am I never gonna see you again?”

This was what scared you. Once more, time seemed to bend and crumble and rise from the ashes in all kinds of unnatural ways until he answered.

He shook his head, still not having moved from his position at the head of your bed. “Shit, woman, you’re barely to stand up straight. You fucking took your medication without knowing whether it’ll interact with what’s still in you from last night. Do you honestly, for even a fucking second, think that I’m about to leave you alone? In that case, you’re way dumber than you seem.”

His one-sided smirk was only partially able to hide the sheer exhaustion on his face, the furrow between his brows deeper than you had ever seen it. Apparently, he was staying.

“And now, lie the fuck back down before you fall against anymore walls.” It was clearly an order, and one you did not mind following.

The rest of the day would feel just as surreal as everything else that had occurred so far.

You caught a few more hours of sleep, divided into several smaller naps. Katsuki never left your side, like a dog guarding you from anything that might aim to do further harm to you.

(Never mind the fact that all that could harm you now were chemicals already inside your body, and… well, your stupid head. Your stupid head, that was already trying to twist last night’s most likely coincidental attack into the idea that someone was trying to harm you individually. But that made no sense. You were able distance yourself from that train of thought well enough, and that was an important realization that calmed you, at least a little bit.)

Appalled by the jarring lack of proper food in your refrigerator, he ended up ordering pizza for the both of you. You ate while streaming the newest season of your favorite animated show on your old, but faithful laptop. Katsuki had never seen it, but complained about it less than he could have.

Already, he seemed to feel more at home at your place than you had done for the first half of a year you had lived here. And you felt more at home with him here.

Lying next to him, head on his chest while fully dressed was a new, but not unpleasant experience. You had had it all twisted, you thought. Was it not more normal to be surprised by how someone’s bare skin felt after only knowing them clothed? Now, it was your turn to be stunned by how intimate it felt to be close him in a situation that was clearly non-sexual. Even his hand under the back of your top, just resting there, felt right. It seemed he simply enjoyed the feeling of your bare skin, be it the leadup to something more basal or not.

The most important development, however, was the agreement he and you found regarding your future. The two of you would simply keep going the way you had been up until so far – but you were not to censor yourself anymore. That way, he would have a chance to finally know you in all the ways he did not, or did not yet. And wherever that would lead you both, it would probably be okay.

“Just so you know, I reserve the right to tell you to fuck off once I know you better.”

You laughed out loud, nuzzling his cheek before kissing him, softly, for the briefest of moments. “You do that. I need a boyfriend like I need a hole in my head.”

If mutual exclusivity was what defined the relationship between two people, you already had a boyfriend in him. But to argue definitions at this point would be to get ahead of yourselves.

[onaubade]

Ideologies of the Modern Era

Rosemira Mott An Educational Tract of an Increasingly Political World

Aubade Council of Thinkers ACT, born out of a series of local philosophical groups such as the Logrian Republic of Letters, is a union of mortal philosophers aimed at re-evaluating the relationship of mortals with the rings. They are seen as anti-religious, and have a history of militant activity and attempts at governmental infiltration.

Will to Expire A quasi-religious movement targetted against Constructs and Azoetics, judging that life beyond life is immoral. They operate primarily in Asha after having been outlawed from a number of prominant Logrian cities.

Princip Council A group dedicated to formalising the loose diplomatic ties that bind The Princes together, specifically those promoting regional prosperity and unity against invasion. Largely considered irrelevant until a recent proclimation of support from the Logrian Government.

Livacious Movement An anti-traditionalist movement encouraging the partaking in drugs, an active social atmosphere, and inter-species relations.

Kedeianism Respect and tolerance of the living dead, described by many as the Logrian Way. Some foreign governments consider it’s spread by Azoetic advocates to be an extention of Logria’s commitment to ‘soft power’ - it’s usable influence abroad.

Four Vices Philosophy The belief that the four continents of Aubade, most prominantly described in the Etemac Myth, are the templates for a healthy life. These are: the Land of the Lustful, the Land of the Gluttonous, the Land of the Wrathful, and the Land of the Slothful. To them one must therefore desire thusly and more importantly act out those desires. They partake plenty and often, internalise their rage and use it as passionate outbursts, and refuse to work beyond that which is needed. One of the hardest to quell of the modern political movements.

Ringstone Rationers A movement that seeks to emulate the government philosophies of Tsote and Lomai, in which ringstone and basic magical training is seen as a mortal right, and thus that every individual is entitled to a ration of ringstone per year to do with as they wish.

Revelation Movement A controversial self actualisation and nationalisation movement for Ratfolk. Advocates describe it as ‘that flurry of emotions when such impoverished folk realise the true tragedy of their history, and their loneliness in acknowledging it.’ This refers to the Tlatapan Massacre, which is not recognised internationally, but remains a popular notion that has been noticed in the grievences of every Ratfolk riot in my experience. Goes hand in hand with anti-Alai extremism considering that country allegedly conducted the alleged massacre.

Free Nesting Troupe A underground movement in Essif stating that internal boundaries and the incredibly complex bureaucracy surrounding nesting rights should be completely abolished. Seen as anti-aristocratic by the Essifi authorities, hundreds have been tried and executed for proclaimed sympathies with this movement.

Edification League Social movement seeking to ‘uplift’ the Mogh tribesfolk who live on the frontiers of many Logrian territories, most prominently Torkin. The league sets itself up as the opposition to Logrian Imperial Policy that directly targets Mogh communities, however it attracts significant scorn from prominant activists in the field. The prestige of the Edification League has drastically reduced since it’s labelling as a terrorist organisation by the Moghlands, and it’s direct causation of a revolt in the Veidt, which lost it much of it’s Logrian Governmental support.

NOCOL Radical anti-authoritarian movement that operates in the greater Essifi Empire, and claims responsibility for a large number of civilian bombings in major ports. While unpopular with the majority, they are reportedly gaining a lot of support in the colonies.

One Body, One Will An ultra-monarchist philosophical blowback to the international decline of absolute monarchies. To advocates, the state is a body and therefore needs only a single overriding will to rule fairly and effectively. It directly evokes the philosophies of the Serasan School of ringstone theory, and is thus very popular in governments beyond The Princes. A copy of the movements manifesto can likely be found in the libraries of every monarch or dictator in the world.

[comicgoblinwrites]

Another Heads Up, 7 Up

Tagged by @indecentpause! Wheeeeeee!

A walkway had already been secured between the Pisces and the ferry, leading to the side where the cars would have once boarded. A few people were gathered there, bundled in coats and hats, waiting for us to cross. Philip looked with trepidation at the walkway, then at Isabel, who had their baby in a sling across her chest, tucked under her coat. “I’ve got it,” she said. “Just give me a hand.” They took it slow, even though it wasn’t a long walk, and when they reached the other side one of the waiting people helped Isabel down. An exclamation of surprise greeted them when they noticed the baby on Isabel’s chest.

I'm dragging myself through this editing pass, y'all. I'm a little over half way through, aiming to be done by the end of June. But DAMN, it's a challenge to wrangle my brain into working on this.

The plan is to start querying in July.

*screams*

Tagging:

@mjparkerwriting, @floweryprosegarden, @winterandwords, @stesierra, @arijensineink, @gummybugg, @elizaellwrites