#i won’t have the energy though sometimes so i’ll just. leave it. i am an enigma (confusing) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonstruckme · 12 days

Note

May I pleaseeee request poly!marauders x reader (gn or fem, up to you) where r and siri come home at like, 4 am from a rave (or clubing), and they are in makeup and have glitter all over them, and their exhausted and only slightly tipsy (from alchohol or drugs, up to whatever you think would be more fun to write) so they try to get cleaned up without waking up james or remus but ultimately fail?

I totally understand if you don't wanna write it 🫶

Thank you for requesting lovely!

cw: mention of alcohol

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

When Remus wakes, he doesn’t at first know why. James is asleep next to him, snuffling softly, his cheek smushed into the pillow and drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. Remus’ fingers are woven loosely in the curls by his forehead.

Then there’s a muffled thump from down the hall, followed by some hushed cursing, and he remembers.

“They definitely moved the couch closer to the door to fuck with us.” Then, a moment later: “I am being quiet. Doll, you’re projecting.”

Get a drop of alcohol in Sirius, and he becomes the worst whisperer in the world.

Remus can hear your attempts at shushing your boyfriend as he slips out of bed. James is dead to the world, but he stretches out an arm as Remus’ fingers unwind from his hair as though feeling for where he’s gone. Glancing at the clock on his nightstand, he’s gladder than ever that he and James had begged off this particular excursion. It’s past five.

He goes toward the light they left on for you by the door, but you and Sirius have already migrated into the kitchen. Remus props himself up on the doorframe, wrapping his arms around his middle, and allows himself to just watch the two of you for a minute.

“Water first,” you’re saying, voice hushed far more effectively than Sirius’. You grab two glasses with extreme care from the cabinet, setting them down slowly so as not to make any noise.

“I think this makeup is going to be crusted onto me forever,” Sirius whines. “I’ll never be able to get it all off.”

“I don’t know if I have the energy to try,” you admit.

You do both have an awful lot of glitter on you. What was intentional and precise when you left that evening has now traveled down onto your cheeks, leaving you lustrous and disheveled-looking. When Sirius closes his eyes, tipping his head back as he leans against the countertop, the black makeup around his eyes makes them look like glittering chasms. Remus notes that your shoulder shimmers with a similar color, like he’d laid his head on it.

You pass Sirius a glass and hoist yourself up onto the counter, the both of you falling quiet while you drink your water. You sigh at the end of it.

Sirius hums in response, a tired sort of smile lifting his lips. He leans his head against the side of your arm and lets his eyes fall closed again.

“Did you have fun?” he asks, softer now than he has been since you came inside.

“Mhm.” You set your empty glass down, using that hand to comb strands of hair away from Sirius’ face.

Remus' heart nearly turns to mush as he watches the two of you, each clearly exhausted and yet still trying to take care of the other. You, you’ve always been open with your tenderness, but Sirius has taken years to get to where he is now. It still surprises Remus sometimes to see it, his boyfriend’s caring out from under the shroud of insouciance and joking.

“I have an idea,” you say. Your tone is warm and lulling, not unlike your boyfriend’s. “We could take the spicy crisps into the living room, and lay on the couch to eat them.”

Eyes still closed, Sirius smiles. “What about bed?”

“Rem won’t let us eat them in the bed.”

Remus suppresses a chuckle.

“I know, sweetness. I thought you were tired.”

You sigh, long and heavy. “I am. I think I’m so tired I almost don’t care if I go to sleep. I might die if I don’t have a spicy crisp, though.”

Sirius seems to be contemplating this when James comes up behind Remus. His hair is askew and glasses falling down the bridge of his nose, and he has the glazed-over look of someone who themselves is not quite sure if they’re awake or dreaming.

“How wasted are they?” he asks, voice weighted with drowsiness.

“Not very,” Remus murmurs.

That’s when Sirius notices them. He picks his head up, nudging your knee with his elbow so you look over.

“Oh.” You shrink a bit, expression pinching. “Sorry.”

You so thoroughly look it that Remus can’t even feign upset. “Come to bed,” he says fondly.

Neither of you move but Sirius opens his arms, beseeching Remus to come to him. Remus, too tired to pretend at being any less in love than he is, goes.

“I thought you’d be in earlier,” he says into Sirius’ hair. It smells like sweat and a little bit like smoke.

“The cabs were busier than we expected,” Sirius replies, voice even sleepier now that his face is in Remus’ neck. “We walked a while and then caught a bus once they started running.”

Remus makes a disgruntled sound, but it’s James who says, “You should’ve called.” His voice sounds muffled, and Remus looks over to find it’s buried in your chest. You’re smiling faintly with your face turned down into his curly mop, your hands on the back of his head and his holding your thighs. “We would’ve come and got you.”

“I wanted to,” Sirius defends himself, removing his face from Remus’ neck to cut you a teasing look. “She wouldn’t let me.”

James lifts his head to look up at you.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” you say, voice soft as though still trying to accommodate the sleep he really should be getting. “You both have work in the morning.”

James groans at the reminder, hiding his face in your chest again. Remus sets a hand on top of his head, scratching his scalp consolingly.

“You should always call,” he tells you, just for the record, but really he’s in no mood to argue. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, slipping off the counter.

James wraps his arms around your shoulders, forcing the both of you to walk with small, plodding footsteps, and Sirius also refuses to be out of Remus’ hold, clinging to his arm as you all start down the hallway. The bed is no sooner in sight that you let out a low whine.

Sirius echoes it when you say, “We still have to take off our makeup.”

“What if,” James suggests, “you sleep now, and when Remus and I get up in an hour we can take it off for you while you stay in bed?”

James hardly has time to let you go before Sirius is hanging off him, almost teary with gratitude. “God, I love you. That’s the best idea I ever heard.”

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bunnliix · 1 month

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The Point of No Return - Hongjoong x reader

I am in an angsty mood so here we go. This was born out of the need for angst but also Ateezchella so this is what happened.

Pairing: Hongjoong x reader Summary: Hongjoong had invited you along with them to Coachella, not wanting you to miss out on this experience with them. However, things don't go to plan. wc: 3k AU: n/a Genre: Angst, Hurt/no comfort Nets: @newworldnet warnings: Death, blood, kidnapping, disappearances, crying, descriptions of a dead body, it's basically just really depressing and sad. it's hurt/no comfort for a reason

You had followed the boys to Coachella for their performances, partially because your boyfriend wanted you to experience this with him and the rest of the members. You had watched their soundcheck, cheering as loud as you could in support of them, which left a smile on Hongjoong’s face. You thoroughly enjoyed the set list they chose for the festival, jumping along to every single song and sometimes attempting the choreography, making the boys try their hardest not to laugh. You weren’t exactly a dancer, so sometimes the moves ended up looking a little funny, but you were having fun and that’s all that matters.

Today was D-day, the boy’s first performance at Coachella, and the boys were a bundle of nerves, and so were you. There was nothing any of you could really do, except try and relax, and you were told by all the boys to go and enjoy the performances for the boys since they weren’t able to roam around before their set. You roamed around the festival grounds, enjoying the atmosphere and the vibes, and just soaking in the energy around you. You went to attend Sabrina Carpenter’s set, which was one of the few that day that you were excited to watch live. There had been a couple times you almost had the chance to see her live in concert, but then life or Ateez things had come up and blocked those plans.

Being that you were a part of the Ateez entourage, you normally wouldn’t have security, but Hongjoong was concerned about sasaengs and other dangers that could happen at the festival, and added you as a part of the security team’s list of people to protect. So you had two members of the team with you at all times, despite your insistence that you would be fine by yourself.

“Won’t the boys need you back with them soon?” You asked one of your bodyguards.

“We’re supposed to stay with you until you meet up with the staff before their set.” He informed you, the other nodding along in agreement.

“Well, I don’t really need both of you here, I’m only going to Sabrina’s set, and then I’m going to head over to the Sahara stage to wait for their set. Maybe one of you can head back then?” You suggested to them.

“We’re really not supposed to leave you with only one of us, Mr. Kim told us that we’re both supposed to stay with you until you meet with KQ staff.” The other bodyguard spoke up.

“But if I’m only going from one stage to the other, what could go wrong?” You said.

“If you’re sure you’ll only need one of us, then I’ll head back.” The second bodyguard told you.

“I’m sure. The boys will need you more than I will.” You told him, a tone of finality in your voice.

Watching the guard walk away, you turned to the remaining man, telling him that it was time to head over to the stage for Sabrina’s performance. He walked closely behind you as you made your way through the crowds, weaving through the groups of people, quickly navigating the festival grounds and arriving just in time to Sabrina’s set. You didn’t mind being farther back, it allowed you to have more space to move about, and room to breathe.

Singing along to every song she sang, you were having the time of your life. You had more than a couple people look over at you during the entire set, not that you cared. Though, there were more than a couple times that a couple different sets of people bumped into you, which you quickly shook off, not thinking anything of it except that people wanted to get closer to the stage and were not aware of anyone around them. You didn’t let some rude people ruin the fun and excitement of finally seeing Sabrina live.

Eventually the performance came to an end, and it was your time to head over to the Sahara stage, to find both one of the staff members that you were meeting up with, plus to get a spot for the boys’ performance late that night. You once again started weaving your way through the festival grounds, stopping for some food and a drink along the way. You waited in line with your guard right next to you, and after getting what you paid for, you headed over to the Sahara stage, ready to start the long wait till your boys’ set. Once you got close to the stage, you waved off the remaining bodyguard, telling him you could make it the short distance to the staff member by yourself, and he reluctantly left, heading back to where the rest of the security team was situated.

Time skip to the performance...

Hongjoong was having the time of his life on stage, soaking up the atmosphere around him, feeding on the energy coming from his members and the crowd, and knowing that his girlfriend was somewhere out there as well, cheering him and the others on just as she had the day prior. All too quickly did it end, and despite the mix up that was the failure of the boys to exit the stage the way they planned to, the rest of their performance couldn’t have gone better.

Arriving back at the backstage area for performers, they quickly took photos, before finding somewhere to sit down and just relax after the adrenaline rush that was their performance. The minutes ticked by, Hongjoong growing worried and impatient that you had yet to show up backstage. Had staff not done their job? Had they not made sure you were allowed back here? Should he send their manager out to grab you? He checked his phone, but you hadn’t sent him anything. Maybe your phone died? These questions swirled inside of his head, until the staff member they had assigned to meet you came rushing into the area, and over to the group's manager. Hongjoong got up, making his way over to the two, when he heard his manager exclaim to the staff member.

“What do you mean she never showed up?! Why didn’t you say something hours ago?!” The manager half yelled at the staff member, who started making excuses.

Hongjoong stopped in his tracks, the words constantly replaying over and over in his head. You had never shown up and made contact with the staff member? He knew your bodyguard came back, he saw the man return, but he had assumed that meant you had found the staff member who was supposed to be responsible for you during your time spent at their stage.

Seonghwa came up beside their captain, a worried look on his face. “What do you mean she never showed up? Where is she then?” He inquired, to which no one had answers for him.

Hongjoong stayed silent for a moment longer, before launching into action, moving to find the men responsible for your safety. He quickly found the two men, barking out at them, “What the fuck were you doing? No one can find my girlfriend, the woman you were supposed to be protecting?!” He yelled at them, throwing any pretense of being calm right out the window.

The guard who he had seen return started talking first. “I escorted her to the stage, and once we were there, she convinced me that she could find the staff member on her own, and so I returned here.” He told Hongjoong.

“You should have stayed with her until she made contact with our staff. Now she’s missing and it might be your fucking fault!” He yelled, getting close to the security guard until San and Jongho pulled him away, the entire group having followed their captain on his warpath.

“I didn’t think she could have gotten into danger in the couple hundred feet it would have taken her to get to the staff member.” The guard justified his actions, and indirectly, your choices to tell the guard to leave.

“Well you made a wrong decision. Now get out there and go look for her, you assholes!” He screamed at them, the two quickly leaving with the rest of the security team to scour the grounds for you, or any hints as to where you’ve gone.

The members convinced Hongjoong to go back to where they had been, and wait for news. Hongjoong couldn't sit still, pacing back and forth until he heard that they had found you. He wouldn’t be able to handle anything less than you showing up in front of him. He couldn’t bear the thought of them not finding you, of never seeing you again.

A security team member came jogging in, trying to catch his breath once he stopped. He raised a hand, and Hongjoong immediately knew it was your phone. He’d recognize that case anywhere, he hand painted it for you after all. Sunflowers, the flower you reminded him of. The reality of the situation started kicking in at that moment, and he knew that you wouldn’t have just left your phone hanging around. There was no way you would have, you protected your phone like it held the codes for nuclear bombs.

He fell to his knees, knowing something had gone horribly wrong, and he felt responsible for it all, seeing as he was the one who pushed for you to go out and enjoy the festival. He should have kept you here with them, shouldn’t have let you out of their, out of his sight. If he had kept you here with them, it wouldn’t be like this right now, you would be safe here with them, not out there alone, or worse.

Yunho moved to take the phone from the security team member, using the code they all knew to open it. Finding that once he did, the notes app was left open, and as he read the text on the screen, he felt his stomach drop.

‘She doesn’t deserve you. No one deserves you. You’re too good for her. It’s okay, you’ll be better off without her. Atiny will make sure she stays far away from you. You don’t need to worry about her. She’ll be an eternal attendee of Coachella.’

Mingi looked at the text from over his friend's shoulder, and could help but let out a sob. This alerted the others that something was wrong.

“Yunho. Mingi. What’s going on?” Seonghwa questioned, and Yunho could only shake his head before he turned the phone towards Seonghwa, who quickly read what was on the screen, tears falling from his eyes as his hand came to cover his mouth.

Hongjoong, coming back to the present, quickly stood up, losing his balance and Jongho rushed to steady him, before he shrugged off the maknae’s help.

“What’s going on?” He asked, looking between the three men.

“Hongjoong, I don’t think you should know.” Seonghwa tried to persuade his best friend.

“I need to know. Show me now!” Hongjoong said, before just snatching your phone from Yunho’s hand, looking down at the text on his lover’s phone. His face paled as he read further, the phone eventually dropping from his hand, dropping right down to the ground. Yeosang rushed to pick it up, finding that the screen had been shattered, the text on the screen still readable, though the fairy-like man couldn’t find it in himself to read it, not after seeing his friend’s reactions to what was contained on the phone.

Hongjoong himself collapsed, his body falling to the ground not long after your phone did. Where were you? He couldn’t believe that their fans, no they weren’t fans, not if they did something to you. They could never be fans if these were the actions they decided to take, that they felt he was too good for you. He was in a state of shock, he couldn’t process anything going on outside of the thoughts in his own head.

Thankfully Seonghwa stepped in, ordering the security team and their staff to go searching the grounds, making sure they knew to cover every single piece of the festival, and they all set out. Yunho and the others were already huddling around Hongjoong, trying their best to comfort the man, their friend whose girlfriend is currently missing and more than likely, in danger. From those who claim to be their own fans.

None of the boys have any sense of time, seconds feel like minutes and minutes feel like hours, until the sound of an incoming call comes from one of their phones. It’s Seonghwa’s phone that’s ringing and he answers it, hoping for good news. As the other boys watched him step away and listen to what the person on the other side was saying, they saw him freeze before he dropped to the ground as his hand holding the phone fell into his lap.

Yeosang and Wooyoung hurry over to their hyung’s side, Yeosang hugging the older man while Wooyoung took the phone, pulling it up to his ear to find out what happened, interrogating the person on the phone. Soon he fell into the same state as Seonghwa, sobs bursting out of his mouth as tears flowed down his cheeks, his head shaking as he repeatedly denied the knowledge he had just gained. This signaled to the others that whatever news their staff had, wasn’t good.

“Seonghwa-hyung, talk to me. What did they say?” Yeosang tried to get his friend to talk, but his friend wouldn’t say a word.

“They found her.” Wooyoung whispered, everyone turning to him, the silence so loud you could hear a pin drop, despite the roaring of the crowds not too far away.

“And?” Mingi asked, daring to hope that they would get some good news tonight.

“She’s dead. They killed her. She’s gone.” Seonghwa managed to get out, before he doubled over, unable to say anymore.

‘She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead.’ Those two words echoed in Hongjoong’s mind, and he wouldn’t, he couldn’t let himself believe that. You couldn’t be dead, he saw you only hours ago. There’s no way they would have killed you. Why would anyone want to hurt you? He stared down at his hands as they sat in his lap, feeling as if he just believed you were alive and this was all a big joke, it would become true.

“They want one of us to come confirm it’s her. They’re sending a member of the security team to come take one of us to her.” Yeosang spoke up, having just hung up the call with whoever had informed them of this news.

Silence reigned over them for a couple minutes, until Hongjoong spoke up. “I need to see her. She can’t be dead. She just can’t be.”

“I don’t know if that’s wise Hongjoong-hyung.” Yunho said to the older man, “I think it’s probably best if one of us goes to do that. You don’t want to have your last memory of her like this.” He told his friend.

“She’s not dead, she’s just fine. I’ll see her and we can get her some help and she’ll be okay.” Their captain continued, deep in denial.

The rest of the group looked at him with pity in their eyes, they knew he wouldn’t believe that you were gone until he saw it for himself, but they didn’t want to see him destroy himself once he realized the truth. They knew exactly how much their friend cared for you, and this would destroy him. He was planning to propose to you next weekend, after they finished their performance. And now he’d never get the chance to.

Finally the members of the team arrived to lead whoever wanted to take the burden of confirming that the body was in fact you. What they arrived at, was the boys on the ground and cries and sniffles coming from those who realized it was time to go see you. Seonghwa stood up, assuming the responsibility, though Jongho joined him, and soon it became the entirety of Ateez, surrounding Hongjoong at the center of them all. He had insisted on going, and none of them could tell him no.

They made the trek over to the spot where those people had left you, and sadly, it wasn’t far from where the backstage area was. It was a deserted area, where very few people would stumble upon, leaving the perfect place for those demented people to take you.

San was the first to see you, where you laid on the grass, with so many people surrounding you. His steps faltered, and that caught their attention until they saw where San was looking, and gasps and cries came from the group as they processed that it was really you. That you really were gone, that your lifeless body laid there on the grass, almost as if you were just taking a nap instead. Hongjoong scrambled over to you, everyone moving out of his way to allow the idol passage.

He fell to the ground next to you, a shaky hand reaching out and touching your face, flinching away at how cold you felt. This was when it all started to kick in for him, that you were really gone, that he’d never get to see you smile again, never get to kiss you, never get to hear your voice call his name.

“You can’t be gone, you can’t leave me like this. We were supposed to spend our lives together!! You have to come back! Please, just come back to me.” Hongjoong cried out, leaning over your body, the shirt you were wearing was his, he picked this outfit out for you this morning. God, that was the last time he saw you alive. He’d never get to wake up next to you in the mornings, never get to go on another date with you. Never get to see you walk down the aisle towards him wearing a wedding dress and saying yes to being with him for the rest of your lives. It wasn’t supposed to end this way.

The rest of Ateez gathered around Hongjoong and you, both mourning your passing and trying to be there to support their captain, their friend. You were a special part in all of their lives, how were they supposed to move on from this?

If you wanna see a beautifully written continuation to this fic, check out this fic by @vent-stink, which I consider a very canonical ending to how Hongjoong would react after all of this.

Taglist: @bethelighthalazia

#newworldnet #hongjoong x reader #ateez x reader #hongjoong angst #ateez angst #kim hongjoong #hongjoong

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foranidalas · 3 months

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pope not being able to study because reader won’t stop bothering him it can be kind of smutty or something regular

*.⊹˚𝜗୧ ‧₊˚

you respect pope and his study regime, but that doesn’t mean you wont try to have some fun with it sometimes.

something about it is just so attractive to you. i like to think sometimes he’ll put on these nerdy little reading glasses that you find extremely hot on him— the way he’s hyperfocused on whatever information he’s trying to retain and they slip lower on the bridge of his nose, the crease in his brows and the way he recites the information to himself quietly has you rubbing your thighs together from afar.

you’re also restless, and he’s the only one that can calm you down. whether it be from pure wanton or puppy-like energy, the boy has a knack for slowly tiring you down so he can turn back to his studies. it has you pacing around the room in your silky pyjamas, mumbling to yourself as you try to give your active mind something to think on.

“you’re talking to yourself again.” he speaks outloud, making you stop in your tracks. he turns to you, taking in your figure in your revealing lounge clothes, and you notice the way his chest rises and falls slightly faster.

“you’re ignoring me. who else am i supposed to talk to?” you reason, hands resting on your hips as if you’re scolding him. he finds it endearing.

“just let me finish these problems and i’ll join you.” but alas, youre in his peripheral, and he just can’t take his mind off the way your nipples pebble through the thin fabric, or the way your hips sway as you stumble back and forth. he seriously needs to stop giving in to everything you want, he thinks, as he stands to fulfill the desires invading his previously focused mind.

other times, you simply just miss his presence. the two of you can fill your days with excited conversation, laid across his chest as he recalls whatever topic he finds interesting to you as you listen intently, nodding and humming to encourage him to keep on going, even if you don’t entirely understand what he’s rambling on about.

sometimes he’ll let you sit on his lap as he works, legs crossed against his own as you zone out, happy to be in close proximity with your boyfriend. it doesnt last long, though, before you’re fiddling with his hair, twisting the thick curls that stand out slightly against the rest of his hair pattern— or trailing your fingers along the sharp end of his jaw, tracing circles on his bicep and kissing him in their wake as if to leave your invisible mark on him.

“it’s hard to work when you do that.” his voice is even, tainted with concentration as he continues to scribble down notes and annotations onto his notebook. you hum, continuing with your antics. was it your fault he’s so easily distracted? you begged to differ. once he’s finished scribbling, he turns his attention to you, soft hands gently grabbing your jaw as he leans in to press a kiss to your bitten lips.

“do you miss me?”

“maybe.” it makes him chuckle. he presses another kiss to your cheek. it spurrs you on, moving your head to capture his lips on yours once again. when you open your mouth to deepen the kiss, he pulls away, and you let out a weak whine.

“gotta study for this test tomorrow, darling.” you don’t listen to him, whispering pleads for him to join you in bed, to talk you down in his arms and stroke your hair in the way you liked. your heart yearned to be infinitely closer to him. every plead is accompanied with another kiss to his jaw, his neck, and soon you notice the way his pen falters, and his hand moves to stroke your hair before he’s pulling you up and onto the bed, strong arms wrapped around your figure.

“you can’t always sweet talk me out of studying, you know”

“speak for yourself.”

#꒰ ۫ ੭ requests! ୨ৎ ꒱#εïз pope prompt !#pope heyward prompt #pope x reader #pope heyward

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trust-sancus · 7 months

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NO LONGER ACTIVE

This has been on my mind for a while, but I’ve finally come to the conclusion that it’s best I step back from the tmnt fandom.

I knew going into it and making videos on tiktok would lead to an unhealthy obsession with creating and engaging in fandom content, to the point that I’d completely neglect my original art and other matters in my life. But I did so anyway for the momentary satisfaction that fandom brings.

But in truth, it has been eating at me that I am unable to focus my time nor energy toward my original work, and now it dawns on me that nearly an entire year has passed & that is a lot of time that has been wasted. Yes, it was fun, and I’m glad my work was able to bring some enjoyment to others, and that I was able to enjoy others’ work as well…..but ultimately, it has kept me trapped in place in terms of where I want to be in life.

I need to get back to creating original artwork, so I can build my business and really start toward the life/future I want.

I’ll always have a love for tmnt; that much is clear. I mean, I’ve loved them for the better part of 28 years, so I know they’ll always be a special interest of mine. But I need to keep that love contained, for my own sake, and not spend my time interacting as much with the fandom as I have been.

Not that I don’t care for you guys (you’ve been awesome tbh). It’s just that I lack the ability to focus my energy toward two things at once, and in this case, my dreams, my career, and my future livelihood have to come first. Sorry if this is a disappointment to anyone.

I really did want to create a comic for my tmnt iteration. Maybe someday I will, once I am further along with building my business. But really, I know that’s likely wishful thinking & it would be better to put my time toward original comics rather than fan comics, if I am to do any at all.

I might still draw my turtles on occasion and post them here (no promises though). And I will probably check in to maybe look at fanart occasionally. I may also randomly update my current fanfics, if only because I sometimes use writing as an outlet. But aside from that, I will no longer be very active on here, so please do not expect any prompt replies should you message me or tag me in anything.

The tmnt fan iteration blog still has a bit more scheduled, but I probably won’t reblog anything else there once it catches up, as I won’t be on here enough to look for new iteration posts.

Kudos to anyone who has actually read all of this. Sorry I tend to ramble. Didn’t want to leave any unanswered questions. Sorry if this all seems pretty sudden (it’s been a long time coming for me).

Thanks for being cool, and I wish y’all the best.

#sancusrambles

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thedemigodoracle · 9 months

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Please read:

Ok, so as I jokingly said before “I’m back.” - I’m not joking, I am back.

Not entirely yet but here are some things to wait for in the near future.

Before I list it I need to browse fast through the real life stuff first so bear with:

- one of the reasons I did go missing from art and fandoms in general wasn’t just the ammount of books but also family situations, depression, relationships and in the last few years I lost grandma, grandpa and even my mother to a disease they don’t have it diagnosed yet because it was so rare.

Obvsly took a major hit to my mental health and the ability to write and just have energy kinda left me. I’m handling it I’m in therapy. This is all we need to talk about it.

- it’s been over ten years since some of your fave fics have been updated and while both Clichesbullet on ff.net and thatu on DA will be there and won’t be deleted HERE are what’s to expect:

1. My endgame here is reading the books back and forth again, as well as other source

Material for other fandoms I will

Be publishing for.

-updating the old fan mixes and uploading it to Spotify so it’s more accessible and going back (when possible to art).

- I will use AO3 some new aesthetics and user name (though probably just thatu) and edit a lot more to fit what I believe is better not because the world changed in general but because so

Did I.

Some of the racism and homophobia will still be there are these are the characters having flaws whose arcs weren’t complete but lots of it will also be changed because I’m 34 now I also the world is changed and some stuff just wouldn’t fly and I kinda hate it (but the old material is still there available on the old

Accounts).

- I’m not sure technology will be adapted but some references will here and there and I can clearly deliver something better now that I’ve taught English for over half of my life and am taking a masters degree on translation studies.

- real life will get me too busy sometimes so please I hope you’re excited but I know lots

Of you also have jobs or even families. So leave reviews and keep

Me company but also understand I was bad at updating before even with better time

Management this is will be a ride.

- I’m doing this to prove myself I can do and make good things.

- This site as well as the thatu blog will be updated.

- if you were a follower and have deleted your tumblr or changed usernames please leave a reply with who we were because I’ve had an eventful few years. I remember most of you, but I may need a nudge.

- both my writing and art style have developed and so did my world views - stuff will look different but hopefully still bring you comfort. And laughter.

And tears…?

- there will be some one shots posted focusing on stuff like grown up characters and new knowledge

We now have though the characterization will still follow the book ones as that’s how I kinda got used to it.

- I’m back but I’ll be getting back slowly and posting updates here. Tell ur friends who haven’t been here in a while but used to be part of our group of

Weirdos.

- I missed being a fandom person and hopefully now I can find solace in you guys back again.

- some new fandoms will pop up, as will

Some

Ships (see what I did there? Find solace? Will some ships? Hehe).

-Some extra texts will be added to whatever adaptations I make especially regarding transphobia and HP though I do intend to finish my Hannah/Neville story.

- maybe I’ll write original

Stuff too who knows?

Also, I missed you, spread the word. There’s a brand new old me in town. New ships, new views, new one shots, edits, a very different music taste (actually no I just added more stuff) and a lot of improved knowledge of vocabs and world geography.

Please spread this to whoever you think might be interested. It’s not popularity or anything, I’m trying to get back some pieces of me I lost along the way and writing and drawing used to be FUN and help me make FRIENDS.

I’ll keep u posted once everything is at least remotely ready to go.

And omg you’ll finally know what Silena had on clarisse.

Oh and I’m still not for writing smut but there will be more Adult/Mature like material as some ships require it and I am older. No minors having descriptive s*x

Of course but u know it’d feel weird to talk about these huge ass long relationships and not bring it up naturally.

Anyway, reply to this with whatever. Leave a like or something too but mostly leave a reply so we can start this journey together -

New younger fans are also welcome I’ll make my best to keep this space as safe as possible!! I teach kids and teens and I’d kill for u to have a place to be you safely.

Also there will now be additions on author notes for whether a ship is canon or fanon what I adapted and new fandoms new ships and trigger warnings before sensitive chapters that deal with stuff that before I wouldn’t.

Love, I’ve missed this,

thatu.

#calamity clarisse #Percy Jackson and the olympians #PJatO #leu a #clarisse la rue #Chrisse #thatu

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darkcircles4lyfe · 2 years

Text

Look, I gotta get this out. With everything that’s happened this week, I’ve lost my energy for writing about it. All I want to do is huddle in the corner in numb silence. Tbh what’s happening in the manga wouldn’t be so hard to cope with on its own, but between all the social media attention, harassment dialed up to 11, cheers and praise for Katsuki’s death being good writing (and the reverse being bad writing), antis treating it like a victory (especially for their own ship), and everyone “coping” being relentlessly laughed at, I’m just so fucking done. I can’t bring myself to make discussions of any real substance about theories or themes or anything else. Right now I can’t even talk about unrelated stuff.

The only thing I want to say is, I’m putting my foot down. All the shitty people who have been making a racket over this week do not exist to me anymore. I’m deleting twitter until I can find the mental energy to comb through it and block, mute, unfollow, etc. until it’s peace and quiet. I won’t abide by people even interacting with negativity. It’s more apparent than ever that we are not even remotely a part of the same fandom as those people, so why are we entertaining them? They are just ruining it for us. My dream would be for all of us to wall ourselves in and go radio silent to the outside. Short of that, I want to remind everyone to at least remember to tag everything, and I mean everything, properly so that those who want to avoid discourse and leaks can do so.

I used to think of the negative stuff as entertaining gossip sometimes, or like I couldn’t look away. But it’s different now because it’s actually getting to me, making me feel like an idiot for getting invested in the possibilities and spoiling the “fun” of fictional angst. Also, I’m reluctant to admit this, but I’m very sensitive to death, especially in recent years. I almost never get myself into stories without knowing ahead of time what I’m in for death-wise, so ongoing series like this are usually off the table. This is largely due to irl personal experience, which I’m not getting into, but suffice it to say the idea of Izuku losing Katsuki suddenly while he isn’t around hits very close to home. This is why it bothers me so much the way people are getting made fun of for mourning a fictional character because it’s not real. We read fiction to feel emotions, to experience things second-hand, and our own actual experience interfaces with that. I won’t let people get in the way of that for me.

Tumblr is already much quieter at least for me so I’m okay to stay here, though I might not be saying much or even responding to my inbox for now (sorry, I see you, I’m with you, I just can’t). I haven’t decided what I’m doing about leaks yet, but I’m thinking about avoiding them at least for next chapter, even though I am of course desperate to know what happens as soon as possible. It’s just so hard to participate in them while also dodging negativity, and I’m sure it’s going to be especially bad this time around.

So in case you don’t hear from me, I’ll leave you with this: remember shipping is not about “winning” the canon endgame, it’s about enjoying the potential on your own. We do not need to be validated. It can’t be taken away. That is the true beauty of none of this being real.

#bnha 362 #bnha manga #lin speaks #bakugou kastuki #bkdk #bakudeku #dekubaku

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permanentconundrum · 8 months

Text

10/04/23

I’ve decided I want to get faster at writing so I am going to blog a few days and try to make a practice of it. I worked on my writer resume tonight. It’s already 9pm. I am kind of tired. Listening to old school indie music. Still no job yet, since August 2022. It might be weird to go back to work. I’ll need to make sure I can wake up early. Read a little philosophy this afternoon. I should check the news in the NYT. I haven’t been paying close attention recently. I talked to a recruiter about a few jobs but they don’t pay great. In the first half of 2022 I started looking at work because I wanted to take the next step. Now I’m taking a step back perhaps. That’s what happens when you don’t work for over a year. I have had time for poetry though. That’s been good. I hope to finish some poems. Read some sad poems in the October issue of Poetry Magazine, but I think poetry is a great place for difficult topics. Reminds me to pray for others, and know someone somewhere is having a difficult time. You aren’t alone in this. I think it’s important to remember those who are suffering. You aren’t alone in this. I kind of want to look at art more. I want to read more too. I read some last night, the October issue of Poetry. The Decemberists are on the radio. I’m thinking about how to manage myself so that I don’t run myself out of energy. Sometimes you need to not use all your energy in one activity so you can focus elsewhere as well. I have a running goal to lose weight by the end of 2023. Send positive vibes. I want to look more like a runner. I pass quite a few runners in town driving around. Running is a big goal. Poetry is too, but I need to find a job so I can pay bills. I’m watching my diet again. I didn’t watch it last week really. It’s rough. I have trouble getting to the gym 7 day/wk. But maybe I just need to build the habit. It is incredibly important to my health. Where do I want my life to go? I want to be a senior engineer. Or I want enough money to buy a car and go to NYC every year. I want to pay off school debt. Yeah, the job is the money, but it can be fun or at least important. It is work. Somehow I want energy to write too. And read. So more writing and reading and less TV. I want to read more too. Having a job will take energy, but I don’t need to commit myself to 10hour days every day. I hope to get interviews for the jobs I applied to today. I also should apply to more. Maybe tomorrow I won’t sleep through the afternoon and be able to work on more submissions. I could stay up later tonight because I haven’t been able to fall asleep very well. I am watching my energy and mood and healthy habits this month. October has been difficult in the past. I don’t know if it’s from burn out at work or just an affect of the season. I have been pretty happy in Spring and Summer this year. I think I don’t like the sun setting soon. Maybe I will take a drive tomorrow and look at leaves. This blog is all over the place but it’s fine. I wish I didn’t have to be so careful about with things like mood and energy. I do need more daily focus on diet and exercise. I’m hoping to get to the gym 5 days this week. Both today and yesterday were good runs. Tomorrow I’m going for a speed work out. Twins won their wildcard game to progress in the playoffs. Watching the news now. But the gym is very important to me. I need to keep the habit building weekly and daily. I am excited about making progress with running. Longer durations and more mileage and hopefully higher speed. I will stretch tonight. I’ve been feeling sore today. I used a couple weight machines in addition to my treadmill workout. Not all the machines, I was not feeling the weights today. I have a few goals longer term, but I should think about shorter term goals. I did hit a distance target about a week ago. Maybe I should try to tack on half a mile to that distance. I need to think about what to do for easy run. I guess easy should just be easy, and push on the hard efforts, like speed work and long runs.

#journal #journaling #stream of consciousness #blogger

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shinakazami1 · 7 months

Note

Been busy lately so I don’t have much time to review and edit, but here I am! (this was supposed to be sent on the anniversary.) (edit 1: It’s already (edit 2: halfway through) november.)

(edit 3: i gave up. words be damned, i’m sending this. there should have been more. curse you writing)

(edit 4: reminder. write a long ask anywhere else except the actual tumblr ask window. sending again just to make sure i didn’t hallucinate all this- it would be so, very embarassing...)

hehehehehe love your art. Crunchy. Pringles. Crushing it in my mouth. yummy colors and perspective (That bucket sexyman design looking kinda fine though.,..i mean who said that) (->absolutely normal behavior)

I love how you interact with others’ art, leaving your comments and compliments. Really appreciate that little motivation boost and positivity you spread :)

As seen from Paratober, you seem to take the prompts beyond their face value and messed around with the concepts of those prompts (gonna put Jester in a carton box hehe. Can we have Jester loafing? Loafing in a box?)

Personally I’m not a writer, so I don’t know how you guys’ brains work but I love how you come up with interesting ideas stemming from the game’s original material, expanding, digging deeper into them. I look up at you all in wonder hehe

Also, I read unheard wishes.

You see, I rarely ever seek out angst. I came in there with “this is gonna hurt but I can totally bring myself through this”

Boy was I wrong. Now, because I didn’t read it properly enough to leave a comment that would do it justice (time restraints get you like that), I won’t give a lengthy review. But just so you know, my general feelings were “who do you think you are. did you really think you had the right to hurt me like this. *inhales* aaaaaaaaaAA *cars crashing glass breaking sound effects idk* *lays motionless on the ground* (affectionate)”

Maybe i’ll read your filk wip next. Biology is fun :]

It’s your way with the images you make for your stories and art. Candlecurator? Whatever’s up with fernarrator? I’m not listing the ones in your writings. A lazy, lazy anon I am, I know. [insert another keyboard smash]

I haven’t been here for a while so i don’t really remember much, sorry ;; (-> fake fan detected?!? *vine boom*)

Your theories definitely left the strongest impressions on me. How do you all think like that?? (this goes to the rest of you, tsp theorists/analysts/meta. what are you all on??? damn. give me some.). Perhaps it’s a writer’s thing, maybe I’m just incompetent in this deep thinking kind of stuff.

My favourite was the nature connection theory. Absolutely ate that up. (definitely not because of my bias for plants and nature-related stuff, noooo-). You somehow connected the plants in the parable, creating these wonderful strings of text about what you saw in these plants, the implications, and then sharing those ideas to us. Give me your braincells, shina. Give me-

[Close your eyes.]

Anyway- I think you’re pretty neat :]

Have a nice day!

✨✨✨!!!!!307 ANON!!!✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

ᴬᵍᵃᶦⁿ since I was already writing a draft to respond to your previous ask. The fact you have this copy makes me hope you are saving these asks somewhere because I lost a lot of posts thanks to the great Tumblr editing system....

Happy (belated and too early at the same time hehe) anniversary 307 :] To your edits - PLEASE start writing drafts somewhere else oshsaoifas I don't want you to lose your versions again. You might say you are not a writer but you decide to write such beautiful comments and asks - value your words more :]

Anon. I have an exam this week so it will take my energy but DO KNOW YOU WILL GET BUCKET SEXYMEN SKETCH. I imagine you will see it in a few months but,,, I hope you will like it, just like you like my art in general.

I feel now in retrospect so silly I hadn't done this sooner!! While I sometimes don't have the energy to comment on other people's stuff in my own comments, I know how much joy being told your words could make someone happy :] And I love interacting like that!! Shared appreciation!!! That's why I adore Tumblr in general - it feels most organic in that ability to engage with others as a social media.

I'm glad you like the Paratober prompts! I am happy I mixed the prompts to try to get even more creative with them!! And feel free to put him in every box!! Some old art of Jester in a box:

(I gotta finally start uploading my old art I do have. There is so much...

FEEL FREE PLEASE TO LEAVE MORE COMMENTS EVEN A SILLY ONE BUT OUGHHH I am so proud of Unheard WIshes so thank you so much <333333 Glad you could enjoy

Just remember anon that I do not know your age and the rating for Filk is Mature so please respect the ratings :]]] Ao3 tagging system is there for a reason!! However I still keep on getting opinions that Filk seems to target 16+ demographic since it's more South Park style...But still, please respect it :]

Oh sure, you are so lazy *looks at your very detailed an amazing asks* so lazy. But WAH THIS IS LIKE??? A VERY RARE CANDLECURATOR APPRECIATION??? Like I know folks see Fernator and like him but to hear you like her means so much to me ;;;;;;

And hey - life gets busy :] The fact you wanted to come again, read my story and wrote this, rewrote even god knows how many times... I will always think fondly of you.

DUDE OUGH I need to return to theories, I have so many yet to share,,, you wanting one means a lot to me :} I worked hard on the Fernator theory post so I am glad to hear you could enjoy it! I might do a pool on what people could want hehe

[Closes my eyes and tries to close yours]

I think you are very neat, 307 anon. Thank you, for being you and I hope I will see you one day again. Every ask, I worry it's also a farewell. And then - you come back. I hope you are okay out there - I hope your life, even if so busy, gives you moments of happiness and calmness.

Have a lovely day, 307 :]

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river-in-the-woods · 2 years

Note

2.(✨)9.(🦄)10.(🍄)11.(🌻)12.(🦚)13.(🌿)14.(⭐) 17.(🧜🏿‍♀️) 18.(🧭) extra: 21.(🌈)What do you fall back on in times of uncertainty? Do you envision the destination, conjure up memories to give you strength or ______? Rivers!!! I loved reading your writings so I'll just go ahead and send in the rest of the ask game if nobody else has. Feel free to answer whatever you're comfortable with and I added a bonus just because I felt like it:

Looks like I’ll have to find myself another ask game now! I am happy you are so enthusiastic about my writing :)

2. (✨) - what was your first spell? Did it work?

It was a simple candle spell. A friend of mine was looking for a job and had no luck. He had been searching for weeks or months, I don’t remember exactly how long. So I carved Fehu into a green candle and prayed over it every morning for a week, asserting that he would find a job within one week’s time. And he did. He got a job offer from a friend of a friend after exactly one week.

9. (🦄) - what’s something that’s talked about too much in the witchcraft community?

This’ll have to be the same answer as its counterpart number 8, I’m afraid. I spend very little time online, so I’m not keeping track of community affairs.

10. (🍄) - do you use labels for your practice? Which ones?

I am a Buddhist, an animist, and an aspiring plant wizard! Sometimes a Druid too, though I’ve been a bit out of touch with Druidry lately.

11. (🌻) - post a photo of your altar or describe it if you’re comfortable.

No can do! In general I would advise against sharing any images that are important to one’s magical and spiritual practice, for the same kind of reason you wouldn’t want to leave your doors or windows open when you leave the house.

12. (🦚) - what does your religion or spiritual path mean to you?

Answered here

13. (🌿) - what witchcraft area are you super interested in but haven’t tried out yet?

If and when I have the time, energy and space for it, I would like to craft and keep spirit vessels. I love crafting – with thread, yarn, wood, clay. I enjoy designing sigils and writing poetry. I think these skills would come together quite nicely.

14. (⭐) - do you celebrate any sabbats/holidays? Which ones and which one is your favorite?

Unfortunately I am really bad at celebrating any kind of festival or holiday that occurs at certain times or days of the year. If it’s not something I can do everyday, any day, or spontaneously, it won’t make it into my practice. I would love to actively engage in seasonal celebrations. However I am very much guided by my own inner seasons and cycles. My body and mind also don’t align with the pagan wheel of the year. For instance, I feel most energised in spring and autumn, and find summer and winter quite draining. I also have zero interest in the fertility aspects of the sabbats. One day I’d like to design my own wheel of the year based on my personal inclinations. In terms of big Chinese holidays like New Year and Mid-Autumn Festival, my celebrations are pretty much “meet family, eat lots of food!”

17. (🧜🏿‍♀️) - how often do you meditate? Do you mainly do guided meditations or just listen to music/nature?

My meditation practice is currently rather sporadic. It’s a skill that still requires some work. At the moment I can comfortably meditate for 15 minutes without interruption, and on occasion for up to 30 minutes. My goal is to be able to meditate for at least an hour without getting too restless. I mainly practice samatha meditation (i.e. emptying the mind, non-attachment to thoughts and emotions). This is the main method of clearing psychic blockages and honing intuition. I’m quite a fan of the Druid colour meditations too.

18. (🧭) - where do you get most of the energy to do all your spells from?

There are two main things that drive me. Necessity, and inspiration.

21.(🌈)What do you fall back on in times of uncertainty? Do you envision the destination, conjure up memories to give you strength or __?

There is always one question that gets me through everything. “What can I do right now, with the resources that I have?” As long as I know the answer to this question, I will have a plan of action, and I will not worry. Even if the answer is “nothing”, in which case the action will be “wait and see how the situation develops” or “accept whatever happens and move on”. Knowing where I stand in any given situation calms me instantly.

#ask game #inbox #my practice #anonymous

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jasmariswonderland · 1 year

Text

“What Do You Think You’re Doing?” ~ Danica’s P.E. Uniform Vignette

“If you’re open to it, working hard can be fun too!”

Danica has been behaving strangely, lacking her usual energy to the point those around her are beginning to take notice. Little do they know, she’s recently begun a new late night activity. Timeline for this is sometime in October.

Fake screencap made with assets from the wonderful @ alchemivich! 💙

~~~

*Trein is giving a lecture and Danica is nodding off *

Danica: …

Epel: …!

Epel: *Whispering* Danica! Wake up! Before Professor Trein…

Danica…

Trein: Miss Ledelle…Miss Ledelle!

Danica: !!!

*Everyone starts staring at her and Trein glares*

Trein: Sleeping in class is inexcusable! See me after class!

Danica: Y…yes Sir…

*Trein continues his lecture and Epel gives her a sympathetic look*

Danica: (Ugh, I guess I’m more tired than I thought. But I must focus. I can’t fall asleep again or Trein is really going to let me have it!)

Epel: (She’s been out of it all day, yesterday too.)

*Danica appears alert now, but somewhat sad)

Epel: (I wonder what's making her so sleepy.)

*Timeskip to the end of class and everyone leaves except Danica*

Trein: *Glaring at her*

Danica: *with her head nervously lowered* Sir…I…I’m terribly sorry for earlier. I don’t know what happened, it’s not like me to…

Trein: Yes, it certainly is not like you to fall asleep in my class! And this isn’t the first day I’ve noticed you not paying attention.

Danica: …

Trein: Over the last week there’s been a noticeable shift in your awareness in your studies where you are normally so meticulous. *now looking slightly concerned* Is everything alright? Are you feeling well?

Danica: Sir?

Trein: You are the last person I ever expected to scold for something the other students do on a regular basis. It is very unlike you indeed. I am as concerned as I am displeased.

Danica: I…well…(eh…maybe the late nights are beginning to get to me after all…) I…I’m very sorry for today. I’m not unwell, I’ve just…been focusing on a lot of things at once.

Trein: I see, because this is the first time this has ever happened, I won’t make much of a fuss for it but I still expect this to be the last time.

Danica: Understood, Sir. I promise it won’t happen again.

Trein: See that it doesn’t. After all, with your father’s legacy, I expect nothing but the best from you.

Danica: My father? I know he attended NRC, but did you know him, Sir?

Trein: I did, Felix Ledelle and I attended this school at the same time though I graduated a year before. Nevertheless he was quite the gifted mage and from his daughter, I expect to see the same brilliance. Remember that, you may go now.

Danica: Yes, Professor. I will not let you down. *she leaves the classroom*

~~~

Danica: (Whew! That could have been much worse! But I must be more mindful about…)

Epel: *standing next to Jack* Hey, Danica! Are you alright? I hope Trein wasn’t too hard on you.

Jack: It isn’t like you to fall asleep in class. Normally you’re one of the few actually paying attention.

Epel: That’s what I was thinking, are you alright?

Danica: I’m fine, though I was up a little later than usual last night. I nearly slept in this morning and had to rush to get to class before I could be late.

Epel: Yeah, you did seem a little out of it this morning too.

Jack: Well P.E. is next. *smiling* An hour with Vargas should wake you up for sure.

Danica: Yeah you’re right, and then I can go back to Pomefiore for a while. *smiling* I’ll be fine. (Just gotta hang on for another hour, then I can take a nap before…)

~~~

One evening about two weeks earlier…

Danica: Wow! This room is huge! It’s just like the studio at my dance academy! There’s even mirrors and barres! And no one is here right now, hmmm…

*she looks around for a few moments*

Danica: But first…

*She leaves the ballroom and returns now wearing her P.E. uniform, ballet shoes in hand*

Danica: Since starting school, I haven’t had much time to practice. And with my recital over winter break coming soon, I really should remedy that. Hopefully Vil-san won’t scold me for being in here without his permission…okay, let me start with a few warmups.

(...)

Danica: A few exercises at the barre.

(...)

Danica: Good, no one has come in here yet. I think I’ll be able to do some center work too. But let me turn my music on a low volume to be sure.

(...)

Danica: Still no one, this is wonderful!

(...)

Danica: I might be able to do this all evening!

(Danica soon becomes so caught up in dancing that she doesn’t realize that Rook entered the ballroom and is now watching her)

Rook: *smiling*

(...)

Rook: Quelle beauté!

Danica: !!! *stops dancing and gasps* S…senpai! Vice dorm leader, Sir…I…I…

Rook: *chuckling* Come now, I’ve told you before there’s no need to address me with such formality.

Danica: I…I… *she blushes and takes a few steps back* I didn’t think anyone would be in here at this hour.

Rook: Normally no one is, but I thought I heard activity here, and I was correct. *smiling* I’ve never before seen you dance and to say I am enchanted would be quite the understatement.

Danica: Th…thank you, Rook-san, but…please…I haven’t had any time to practice since coming to school. Please don’t tell Vil-san I’m here.

Rook: Ohhhh? *smirks* Another secret between you and I, ma cherie?

Danica: *blushing again* Oh, no! No, no! Nothing like that! It’s just that…I really need time to practice so my skills won’t become rusty and also…Vil-san has never seen me dance before.

Rook: Ahh, your devotion to your craft is tres admirable, as is your devotion to everything else you do, quelle beaute! But I am certain Vil would not object to you taking time to practice here, especially after he sees your devotion first hand.

Danica: See my devotion…first…you mean…*Rook nods and her eyes widen* OHHHH! Oh I could never! I…I…excuse me, Rook-san!

*Danica rushes past Rook out of the ballroom, but he smiles*

Rook: So full of secrets and surprises, mon petit cygne. And I am determined to discover each and every one of them.

~~~

Danica: *breathing heavily* Ughhh, Rook-san always has such kind things to say but…him seeing me dance was embarrassing to say the least. And if Vil-san saw…*sighs* Maybe I should find another time to practice in the ballroom. *closing her eyes thoughtfully* Hmmm, maybe a little later this evening.

~~~

(Timeskip to later that evening)

Danica: Okay, it’s a little past midnight but I did sleep a little earlier. *looks around her* No one around, and Vil-san is pretty prompt about when he retires too. I should be safe to practice for an hour or two.

*Danica enters the ballroom to begin her late night practice*

Danica: One, two, three. One, two, three, Echappe to arabesque, and land in fourth.

(...)

Danica: (First pique turn, second pique turn, pate bourree)

(...)

Danica: (Ah, this is so much easier not worrying about anyone barging in at any moment.)

(...)

Danica: (Still, I wouldn’t mind an audience. But singing in front of my dorm leaders was daunting enough. Dancing is my true forte and I couldn’t bear to perform in front of them without being less than perfect. Especially Vil-san, seeing him waltz in that last film he was in, left me speechless. He’s so skilled, just like…)

*Danica stops dancing for a moment*

Danica: (I still have such a long way to go before I’m on my sisters’ level. That will take a while but until I’m as good as Fiona, I can never let Vil-san see me dance.)

*she looks down sadly*

Danica: (Regardless of how much I’d like him to.) *sighs* (Okay, back to work, I’m not going to get to Fiona’s level just standing here.)

(...)

Danica: (The more I practice, the closer I’ll be to that goal. And the sooner I can share my skills with Vil-san and not be mortified by it.)

~~~

Back to present time, a day earlier…

*Danica is sitting with Epel and her dorm leaders, looking slightly weary*

Danica: (Ugh, the Film Research Club was using the ballroom until late last night and I still had to study for Professor Crewel’s alchemy exam. I didn’t get to practice until nearly 2am!)

Epel: Danica, are you alright?

Danica: *suddenly looking alert* Oh! Oh, yes, I’m fine, Epel. Why do you ask?

Epel: Just that…I mean…It’s only that you seem a little tired.

Danica: Do I? Well I…didn’t go to bed at my normal hour but rest assured…

Vil: *frowning* What’s this? You’re not staying up late, are you, Little Potato?

Danica: What?! No! I mean, not really, Vil-san. I was only…studying for an alchemy exam I had today. I went to bed a little later than usual but wanted to be sure I was fully prepared.

Vil: No doubt studying is important, but so is sleeping when you need to. Your academic performance will never be 100% if your mind isn’t properly rested.

Danica: Yes, Sir. I’ll…try to remember that in the future.

*Vil stares at her for a few moments*

Danica: Yes Sir? Is there something else?

Vil: You tell me. You certainly seem to lack your usual energy. Is there something I should be aware of that’s taking it away?

Danica: I…no, Sir. Nothing I can think of.

Rook: Well then, we expect you in bed at a decent hour tonight. We can’t have your lovely skin marred by dark circles.

Danica: Yes, Rook-san.

*Rook smiles to himself, knowing exactly why Danica was staying up late the previous night*

Danica: (I know I should probably go to sleep early tonight, but last night I was able to pull off five fouettés in a row. I want to see if I can do ten tonight. But then maybe I’ll cut back on late night practices after that.)

~~~

A few hours later…

Danica: Good, it looks like everyone retired at the normal time tonight. *yawns* I’ll try to be quick tonight.

*She enters the ballroom to begin her late night practice*

Danica: A few exercises, and then I’ll work on my fouettés.

(...)

Danica: (I wonder if Vil-san suspects I’ve been doing this. I really hope Rook-san didn’t tell him about when I was practicing that one day when he saw me. Then again, he would have said something by now if that was the case.)

(...)

Danica: (One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…ah!) *She looses her balance* (That was seven, three more and then i can sleep.)

(...)

Danica: (Six, seven, eight, ni--ahh!) *She looses her balance again* (Ugh I’m so close! Why do I keep screwing this up?!)

(...)

Danica: Maybe…I’m a more tired than I thought. And maybe I should…

*the sound of a footstep*

Danica: Oh! Is someone there?! I hope that was just my imagination!

*She stands still for a few moments before deciding to continue her practice*

Danica: (Yeah, I guess it was my imagination. But that might also be my sign to wrap this up soon.) *takes a deep breath* (Okay! This time I will do ten!)

(...)

Danica: (Seven, eight, nine, TEN!!!) *she stops, smiling widely* (That was ten! I did it! I was able to pull of ten!)

*Danica walks over to the corner of the ballroom, feeling exhausted but also accomplished*

Danica: One day, I want to be able to two thirty two in a row, like the Black Swan. But this is a good start. *yawns* I wonder if Fiona would be proud of me too? I hope so.

*She sits there for a few moments more but soon enough, her eyes begin to get heavy and she falls asleep*

*the sounds of footsteps becoming louder, followed by a tall shadow looming over her*

???: Ara ara, what do you think you’re doing? Here at this late hour?

*Danica is still asleep, completely unaware of the other person’s presence*

~~~

Pomefiore Dorm ~ Danica’s Room

The following morning…

Danica: *bolting awake* SHIT! What happened?! Where…

*she quickly realizes she’s back in her room, her shoes are on her nightstand though she’s still wearing her PE uniform*

Danica: How…how did I get back in my own room? The last thing I remember is…oh it doesn’t matter now! What time is it?

*she looks at her phone and her eyes widen when she sees the time*

Danica: SHIT!!! Classes start in forty minutes! Ughhh! I need to hurry up and get ready!

~~~

Later that day after PE…

Danica: *looking weary* Finally, classes are over. Trein really let me off easily but I gotta be more careful not to doze off in class again. *sighs* Maybe I’ll ease up on the late night practice for a while. *yawning* And now for some much-needed rest!

???: Not just yet, Little Potato! I’d like to have a word with you!

Danica: !!!

*she frantically turns around to see Vil behind her*

Danica: Vil-san! Oh…I mean, hello, Vil-san. What did you…wish to talk to me about?

Vil: Hmph, you tell me. Yesterday, you seemed quite out of sorts and I couldn’t help but wonder why…

Danica: … (Oh no…)

Vil: …last night, I happened to be up strolling around the dorm, and come to find out, I find someone in the ballroom, sleeping on the floor in the corner.

Danica: !!!

Vil: Would you like to know who it was?

Danica: I…I…

Vil: Hmmm?

Danica: I…I guess there isn’t any use in me denying it then. *lowering her head* I…was sneaking into the ballroom but…it was only so I could practice ballet! I…haven’t had much time to do so since coming to school so…

Vil: *frowning* So you thought that between sleep and practice, you could do with one and not the other rather than trying to find a way to incorporate both into your schedule? That neglecting sleep at night would be a better alternative to better time management during the day?

Danica: No! No, I mean, yes, but, I…I know it’s a public dorm space. It seemed…kind of presumptuous for me to think to take it over since I can never know when it’s being used. (Only half the truth, but as much as he needs to know for now…)

Vil: …

Danica: I’m terribly sorry, Vil-san. I won’t practice there again if you don’t want me to…

Vil: Now stop right there, Little Potato. I never stated such a thing.

Danica: Hmm?

Vil: If all you needed was a space for dance practice, you should have said something to me sooner.

Danica: I…what? (But how could I…when…?)

Vil: As a professionally trained dancer myself, I understand the importance of daily honing of your skills. *smiling* Tell me, are you en pointe?

Danica: Yes I am, I went en pointe when I was ten years old.

Vil: *slightly surprised* Ara, quite a tender age to begin such advanced technique. Your devotion to your craft is very clear then, if you weren’t doing this late at night, I would say it’s admirable.

Danica: Wha…really? (That’s…exactly what Rook-san said to me!)

Vil: If you have a talent, Danica, it’s important not to let it go to waste. I’m not pleased with you loosing sleep over this, but at the same time, I understand not wanting your skills to remain stagnant.

Danica: But…what about…

Danica: *now smiling* Really?! I can? That…that’s wonderful!

Vil: We can discuss scheduling practice around your schedule and when the Film Research Club uses the ballroom at a later date. But you may begin the day after tomorrow.

Danica: Thank you, Vil-san! (Yes! I won’t have to worry about sleeping in class again!)

*Vil gives her a sly smile, as though he has something else up his sleeve*

Danica: I greatly appreciate this, you are too kind.

Vil: Oh you think so? I wonder if you will continue thinking such when I tell you my condition for you using our ballroom.

Danica: Condition? *looking slightly concerned* What…do you mean?

Vil: You’ve mentioned in the past that you dance, yet neither I nor Rook have had the pleasure of seeing your skills firsthand.

Danica: I…well, like I’ve said, I haven’t had much time for that since coming to school.

Vil: I understand the circumstances, just as I understand your desire to continue honing your skills. And if you’ve gone en pointe at such a young age, you’re likely already at the pre-professional level. Still, I don’t grant access to Pomefiore’s ballroom for just anything, not even to it’s own dorm members.

Danica: Then…why are you allowing me to use it? *He smiles wider and she blushes* Wait! Why…unless that means…?!

Vil: You may use the ballroom for practice the day after tomorrow, and I and Rook will be in attendance.

Danica: !!!

Vil: I’d like to see how far along you are in your ballet training, assess your skills as well as your potential for the future.

Danica: The…FUTURE?! What does that mean?!

Vil: Heh heh, you’ll find out in a few days, won’t you?

Danica: But…I’ve never danced around others outside of being on stage! How could I…

Vil: And you told me you’ve never sang solo before your dorm concert, and yet you did. This will be no different.

Danica: I…you’re sure you want to see me dance? I mean… (nonononono! I’m not ready for that yet! I’m not on Fiona’s level! He can’t see me dance yet!)

Vil: If you want to use the ballroom for future practice, then yes. I won’t hear any excuses, if you’re willing to neglect sleep then you must be serious about this.

Danica: …

Vil: And so am I. Now, Little Potato, I’ll leabe you to go get some much needed sleep. *smirking* I’m looking forward to seeing you so don’t you dare let me down.

*Vil walks off, leaving Danica completely mortified*

Danica: Ohhhhh, this was NOT what I had in mind! Maybe I should have just let Rook-san watch me after all. Now Vil-san wants to see me dance even though I’m not yet skilled enough. What will he think? What will he say? Ohhh, now I’m DEFINENTLY not getting any sleep anytime soon!

- END -

(A/N: I may or may not be working on a follow up to this that I’ll try to post soon...)

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #pomefiore oc #OC: Danica

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riverstardis · 2 years

Text

valentine’s day mascara:

i guess classic is the only casualty we’ll be getting for a while then?

cal goading ethan into playing rock paper scissors with him🥺

“magic is lying” ooh lily’s so autistic

“the proceeds of the estate sale to be shared equally, however ethan is to hold caleb’s share in a trust fund with power of attorney until such time as he believes his brother won’t spent the lot on gambling, drink, and women”

iain running straight into the burning building, yup nothing’s changed

cal and ethan both wanting to take the burns patient, “i’ll take it” “why?” “i’m older” “not wiser”

“cal, i take our mother’s request seriously” “I take ouR motHER’S ReQUeST SeriOusLy”

why does cal accuse ethan of letting his patient be guilt tripped into getting married when cal was the one who interrupted ethan treating her to bring his patient in to propose????

ohh iain’s og ptsd

lmaooo the patient’s mum being like “ooh are you going to manhandle me doctor” when ethan asks her to leave and he just looks mildly confused and says no sjskdlfkgk i love him. also similar energy to last week when the patient was like “did the nhs bleach your teeth?” and he was like “i brush them?” (aka thank god they’re writing him in character again)

“i know we don’t know each other very well iain, but look at you. you haven’t had to spent 6 months in a rehabilitation centre but the tiniest mention of afghanistan and you’re sweating like a pig”

lily being like “so sometimes lying is okay?” after the magic show shskdkf

“no, cal, what i don’t love is that even in her will, she put you first and i’m just left to look after you. do you never think for one second how upsetting it is to hear her rattling on about your potential and about how you can be the man you’re supposed to be and not one word about me? ah ethan can you wipe cal’s backside for him? well, who looks out for me, caleb?” :(

it’s hard cause neither of them are in the wrong when it comes to the will thing, like obviously cal’s gonna be upset about knowing she didn’t trust him with the money, and it’s totally valid for ethan to be upset about being overshadowed by cal even in her will and having a responsibility he didn’t want forced on him, it’s on their mum really for putting them in this position

also it’s interesting because cal thinks that ethan’s enjoying lording it over him and not only does ethan’s reaction to him saying that show it obviously isn’t true, but there are few times over the following years where ethan shows that he definitely doesn’t enjoy opportunities to lord over cal but cal never even realises (eg when they both fail their consultant exams and ethan tells cal he got one mark higher even though ethan actually got higher he just knew cal wouldn’t have checked the marks and he wanted to make him feel better). this is where the golden child scapegoat theory about what happened with their dad breaks down for me because it only really makes sense from cal’s perspective.

cal: “my brother’s a better doctor than i’ll ever be” zoe: “i’m not arguing with you am i” SJSKDKFK

“your brother came in 5 minutes ago saying the exact opposite, how you were gonna be a better doctor than anyone else and how we should support you” they both think the other’s the better doctor THEY LOVE EACH OTHER REALLY AHH PERFECT SIBLING DYNAMIC

ethan doing a happy little dance because he won rock paper scissors🥺🥺

drunk lily trying to kiss ash😬

#classic casualty #valentine’s day mascara #bbc casualty #casualty

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garoumylove · 2 years

Text

Golden Hour Part 9

Domestic fluff ♥️GarouxReader♥️. Taking care of sick Garou in this part... You can also read it on AO3 here :)

I will myself to wake up. I gather all the fucking mental capacity and energy I have left and will myself to wake up. To push through this half-asleep, half-conscious blackness that I keep drifting in an out of for fuck knows how long.

Somewhere, as if distant and far away, I can feel her pressed against me. I need to wake the fuck up. I need to get closer. I need to feel her closer.

I also feel something soft and purring, like a little motor, next to my head.

Wake the fuck up.

I remember feeling so fuckin’ hot. So unbearably fucking hot.

I’m still feeling way off but at least it’s not a fucking hell sauna anymore.

Wake up, goddamnit.

How many hours has it been?

I feel I’m getting a little closer, can feel more of her weight on me, her head on my chest. I don’t feel her move. I think she’s asleep. Did we sleep together all night like this? Words I never thought would drift through my mind…

I need to open my fuckin’ eyes and see it for myself because right now I don’t believe it. Maybe I’m still fucked up and delirious and this is just some fever dream. In which case, let’s not wake up yet. Let it burn if this is what my mind gives me in dire circumstances. Maybe I should get sick more often if this is how it is.

I feel her stir a bit, get more comfortable on my chest.

No. I think this is real.

Fuck.

Wake up, son of a bitch.

Finally, my mind seems to come back into focus. Suddenly, I can feel everything in real time, the warmth of her body against me, her light, slow breathing as she sleeps, the cat curled up next to my head, this sweat-stained t-shirt. I hear a car drive by outside. The late morning light cutting through the window.

The fever seems to have passed but I feel so fuckin’ worn out even though I’ve done nothing but lie here all night next to her. Everything feels so fuckin’ heavy. I lie completely still. I want to put my arm around this woman lying half on top of me. This woman who stayed all night looking after an insolent asshole like me.

I remember that last thing, when she said ‘I’m here’ before I passed out again.

And she’s still here. I’m surprised she hasn’t had enough of my shit and just up and left. Sometimes, when I come in through her back door, always open for me at any hour, I get this thought. This thought that I’m gonna come in to find this house empty. That one day, I’ll open that door and she won’t be here. But it hasn’t happened yet.

I open that door and she’s always here. Either cooking, or watching tv or reading or if I’m very lucky, I find her on the couch very much waiting for me wearing nothin’ but her heels, very impatiently waiting for me and that is always a fun time. Always. No matter how damn tired or sleep deprived I am, I make sure I show my fucking appreciation.

And she’s here now, letting me rest, sleep against her, never leaving my side.

And I remember thinking ‘Fuck’ as I heard those almost silent tears. I’ve really goddamn fucked up now. So waking up to this feels like a fucking miracle.

I open my eyes. I can’t see her face like this but the sight of her body next to mine is more than enough proof. Her arm wrapped around my chest is more than enough.

She’s wearing this big, thick jumper but suddenly I realise she’s been here like this on top of the covers all night. The heating is on but my arm reflexively goes around her. Fuck. How cold was it last night? I press my arm tighter around her, hoping she didn’t freeze.

The cat notices I’m awake and uncurls, stands up, her purring growing louder and more excited as she starts to knead the pillow next to my head with her paws, pokes at my forehead with her tiny nose.

I give her a warning look, ordering her to stay quiet but she doesn’t give two shits, as usual, starts walking around the bed, all over me.

And of course the commotion wakes her up. Goddamn cat. I was good like this. So fuckin’ good.

I feel her move softly against me, her head turns a bit and for a moment there I feel like she presses herself closer into me. I can feel her hand curl around my t-shirt, as if she needs me here, and it seems like she’s going back to sleep before suddenly lifting herself up, looking beautifully sleepy and dazed and surprised.

That’s it, I think. Heaven is fuckin’ over. Hello real world. I’m about to get my ass handed to me.

She blinks a few times, adjusting to the light, looking around. And then her eyes settle on mine. Here it comes.

“You’re awake,” she whispers with the most relieved biggest smile I have seen. This was not what I was expecting. “How do you feel?” she asks, but before I can answer she starts fussing over me, the questions one after the other.

“Do you want me to get you anything?”

No. Just stay here.

“How do you feel?”

Like shit, but I’ll survive.

“Did you sleep ok?”

Better than ever.

“I wasn’t bothering you?”

You could never bother me. Get back here. Get under the covers this time so I can keep you warm.

“Do you still feel hot?”

She puts her hand to my forehead softly but feels that’s not enough and suddenly I feel her lips light against my skin instead, her hand on my cheek.

“You’re still pretty warm,” she says, quickly pulling away, kneeling next to me.

I have no idea what the fuck she just said.

What the fuck just happened?

I know it means nothing. But she can’t keep doing this. She can’t be giving me these moments of her. Because moments are not enough anymore. Barely fucking enough. Barely fucking enough to stay sane.

“I’m going to make you something easy to eat,” she informs me with the most gorgeous smile, running her hand through my hair casually, just like I pet Delilah. “I’ll be back soon.”

“No, you don’t-” I start, try to sit up but she’s way faster than me in this fuckin’ sorry state.

“Can’t hear you,” she says all sing-song and bounces out the door and I can hear her hurrying downstairs and out of the house. Of course. There ain’t nothing that good to eat here.

I sit there, my body adjusting to being upright. Fuck, this is shit.

I sit there and I try to piece all these moments together. That first one, her naked in the lamp light, in the dark blue night, my head in her lap, her hands bandaging me, her fingers raking affectionately through my hair and so many others. I add the warm feel of her lips on my forehead.

It’s like this fuckin’ puzzle. I feel I have all the pieces but they won’t fit together. Won’t turn into something whole, something that makes fucking sense even though I feel like they should. This frustration is startin’ to drive me fucking mad. What the fuck more do I need?

I feel like a starving man invited to a fuckin’ banquet but all I can do is stare. Like if I reach out and take something it will all disappear in a goddamn wisp of smoke.

All that fuckin’ power and all that fuckin’ pride I’ve been collecting. They can’t help me here.

I find myself laughing quietly at the bitter fucking irony.

The cat looks at me, probably wondering if that fever didn’t do a number on my brain.

And I start to wonder too.

I notice I’m gripping the edge of the covers, my fingers aching. No real, no satisfying outlet for my frustrations or desires.

Anyway, she went back home. I doubt she’ll be rushing back here and I need a fucking shower, I think, suddenly feeling less than comfortable in this shirt.

I let the covers go and get up and it takes me a few moments to walk straight but I make it to the bathroom.

And I know that look now. I know what it meant. Know now that I wasn’t the only one fuckin’ drowning when we were together. Though I was probably more honest about it with myself than she was, as surprising as that is. I started drowning a lot earlier than her. And then it seems she jumped in after me and then we were both in trouble. I remember her wearing that look still the first time it happened, the first time when she was finally in my bed, and not because I was fucking sick or needed nursing. That first time, that I still have a hard time believing really happened, I remember the first taste of her mouth, the feel of her hands, her hot skin, the scent of her, warm and intimate. That first time that felt like an eternity in the making. The feverish relief of finally having her… I could forget anything in life, but I ain’t going to forget that until the day I die.

Under this shirt things are looking better. I stare at myself in the mirror, turning but not too much because it still fucking hurts. I’m still black and blue but it’s a much lighter shade. I’ve still got a pretty evident purple stain across one cheekbone but even that is going down nicely and will probably be almost invisible by tomorrow morning.

At least that’s something, I think as I get in the shower.

As I stand under the hot water, I feel somewhat more alert and awake, though still like I’m one step behind reality.

I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated a fucking shower so much in my life. And that’s really saying something.

How long do I stand there, spaced the fuck out? Fifteen minutes? Twenty?

Eventually I hear the cat meowing and realise she’s probably getting mighty hungry too.

“Yeah, coming, coming,” I call to her as I turn the water off and shake the water off my hair.

I go to put some clean clothes on but realise I ain’t brought any with me in my fucking stupor and her meowing is just getting louder.

Ah, fuck it. I just wrap the towel around my waist and head out.

She purrs happily as I come out of the bathroom and leads me down the stairs. Fuck, I want a Coke so bad, I think as I follow her, suddenly feeling the thirst in my throat.

I give her her food and she goes at it, completely forgets I exist. That’s the thanks I get, eh? I shake my head as I stare out the kitchen window, savouring the familiar carbonated taste as I look out over this small jungle. Once upon a time, someone kept this little backyard all neat and presentable. Not me. I got better fuckin’ things to do. But it might be nice if-

I hear the rustling sound of a plastic bag and footsteps approaching. Fuck, that was fast! And before I can do anything she’s right there and we’re almost face to face as she comes into the kitchen and catches me wearing almost fuck all, Coke in hand, Delilah still happily face deep in her bowl.

She stops in her tracks and stares at me, mostly in surprise, plastic bag with that familiar box in hand. I stare back.

And suddenly she has this look I’ve never seen before. It’s not surprise. The surprise is there but almost like a mask, superficial. And under that she’s got this look…this colour blooming across her cheeks I’ve never seen before. She looks at me like she wants to say something, do something, something that... Almost like she’s asking a question that I can’t quite understand. And that colour keeps blossoming across her face. Just like her in that window that night, being seen like this doesn’t bother me in the least. We’re all just fucking mammals aren’t we. But this mysterious look she’s got, this gaze, makes me feel particularly animal and I don’t understand why. Without a single touch, I start to feel that tension inside, that tension that will not let me rest, takes over and drives me crazy until it gets some sort of release. This moment, her…She’s like fucking electricity.

And then suddenly her expression changes to one of brief self-consciousness and then to annoyance and her eyes grow wider.

“What are you doing going around half-naked and drinking that cold thing?!” She lets me have it. “Do you want to get even more sick?!”

If it means you’ll get into bed with me then yes. I want to say that but I manage to keep my mouth shut.

“Get upstairs right now and put some clothes on!” she commands dangerously.

“Or else what?” I grin. I can’t help it. Fucking Christ, I can’t help it. Any opportunity I am given to be insolent, I will take it. And I want to tease her. I can’t fuckin’ help it either.

She just narrows her eyes at me. And I fuckin’ love it.

“Are you gonna spank me?” I say, putting the Coke down at least.

“Now,” she says her voice full of feminine authority, ignoring my remark but I see that colour in her cheeks again, as she points towards the stairs and I gotta fuckin’ obey. But that grin ain’t going anywhere. “And put a damn sweatshirt on too,” she adds as I walk past her, using all my control to not stop, to not grab her arms, pull her in, press her against me, slide my hands under her own sweatshirt…To get that release. Hers and mine. And for a moment, no, a fraction of a moment, I feel like she wants me to do just that. But this fever must've messed with my fucking mind. I'm deluding myself. There ain't no way. But this feeling as I pass by her, bodies almost touching...No. I just keep walking, like the proud motherfucker I am. I can be that on the outside at least, even if on the inside I feel I’m losing my fucking mind, trying to figure out how to make it all fit together.

“What am I going to do with you…” she sighs, just under her breath as I get further away.

What indeed darlin’, what indeed?

I ask myself the same question as I throw on the first clean sweatshirt I see.

She’s made me omelet rice and it tastes so fucking good, I think as I sit at the table and we have breakfast, Delilah weaving back and forth between our legs underneath.

“You’re going right back to bed when you’re done,” she says as she finishes her own food.

“Eh?” I frown. “Then why’d I have to get all dressed up?”

“You’re still sick,” she rolls her eyes but I can still see the concern behind her mild frustration. “You may think you’re superhuman, but you’re not, I hate to break it to you.”

“I’d say I’m pretty close,” I say, never backing down from an argument.

“Ah, the blind confidence of youth,” she says, jokingly condescending. “I love how you think you’re invincible.”

“Guilty as charged,” I say. Ain’t I proven I pretty much am?

“I love your unfailing self-assuredness but one day something is going to shatter your illusion,” she says, taking the last bite of her food. “And when it does, I don’t want it to destroy you.”

She looks up at me and there’s this quiet, sobering seriousness in her words.

The higher they climb, the harder they fall, that little voice echoes in my mind. That little voice again that seems to be becoming my constant companion.

“As if anything could destroy me,” I say, less than humbly, breaking the tension.

“Of course,” she finally sighs in agreement as she watches me finish off the breakfast she’s made. “Now get back to bed.”

I stay exactly where I am.

“And what the fuck am I supposed to do there?” I ask. I fucking hate lying around doing nothing. Usually, I feel this constant movement, this constant need for action and sittin’ still is a fucking chore.

“What do you mean? There’s lots of things you can do in bed!” She says.

Oh…don’t I know it. But I don’t reckon she’s talking about any of the sweet things that I’ve got on my mind.

“You can read, you can watch something, you can play games, talk to friends…” she lists off things that I’m sure other people enjoy doing. I just look at her, feel my eyebrow rising. That doesn’t sound appealing in the slightest.

“Does it look like I got any of those things?”

“Just get back into bed!” she says finally. “I’ll go grab you some books and whatever.”

No, that’s not what I meant. Fuck.

She sees the look I’m giving her.

“Now!” There’s that authority again and fuck, fine, I put the plate in the sink and make my way upstairs again.

I lie in bed, on top of the covers, not bothering to get undressed, the cat by my side and I hear the front door open again and her light footsteps up the stairs, and right to my bedroom.

“I thought I told you to get back to bed!” she says, exasperated.

“I am in bed!” I say, sitting up.

“I meant like under the-” her shoulders drop suddenly. “Fine, forget it. Good enough,” she says and puts a new bag on my table.

“Look, I got you something to read,” she says, pulling out book after book, showing the covers to me briefly before piling them up on the table.

I know she’s got that big bookshelf in her spare room but I’ve never looked at it up close. Not that interested to be honest. Not that I hate reading, it just seems somewhat pointless to me.

“I grabbed a couple of classics,” she says, holding them up for me for a second, “and here are some more recent ones. Here’s a non-fiction one. Thought you’d probably like that,” she flashes the book at me, “and…here’s a romance. I think you’ll love this one,” she gives me that cheeky grin, this book with a flowery hazy cover in hand. The kind where the people probably keep getting together and breaking up and then finally get together and cry about it or some shit.

“You know me so well,” I say, looking back up at her.

“I do my best,” she says

You do, darlin’, you really do. And so this is why I still can’t fucking understand why all these goddamn pieces won’t fit together and we are what we are, in some sort of fucking limbo, where I have you but only like this. Where I have you but I don’t.

“Also, here are some magazines,” she says, pulling out a small stack of backdated issues of those magazines you find at the checkout, with the fucked up celebrity photos and headlines about who’s fucking whom and whatever.

“You really do know me,” I say, winking at her.

“No!” she says, realising the vapidity of the cover of the magazine she’s holding. “For the crosswords! They let me take these home from work from reception when they get old enough. I like doing the crosswords!” she explains.

Oh. Never thought of that. Never really done any or been interested in that.

“Or are you a sudoku guy?” she says, flipping through the trash and getting to the back pages with the astrology and the recipes and the crosswords.

Well, I’ve always found numbers easier to deal with. But I can’t say I’ve done any sudoku either.

“Eh,” I shrug.

“You’re impossible,” she says. And haven’t I heard that before. But when she says it, with this teasing tenderness, I don’t even mind. “Well why don’t we do a crossword together, then? Because seriously, it looks like you’re bored out of your skull. Though you might still be bored out of your skull even with the crossword…”

I wasn’t counting on that. I thought she’d just leave all these things here and leave, that she’d have more important things to deal with on her weekend than me. But now I’m getting all her time and attention. And everything makes even less sense.

“Only one way to find out,” I say as that pleasant fucked up pain in my chest shows up again as she climbs onto my bed with me, sitting against the side wall, her legs over mine as I sit against the other wall.

“I don’t know why,” she says as she gets more comfortable, pen in hand, “but I’ve always liked puzzles.”

Sure. Puzzles are fun. When you can figure them out, I think as I watch her as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and folds the magazine over to have a better surface to write on.

I feel her legs on top of mine and suddenly remember that moment from this morning, when she was half awake, grabbing onto me, nuzzling in closer. I close my eyes, reliving that particular moment.

“Are you tired?” her voice brings me back. “Do you want to lie down? Should I move?”

I open my eyes again and look at her. This is a puzzle I’ll never fucking solve and the frustration it causes me…I fucking swear.

“No,” I say, giving her a nod to continue.

And even though she said let’s do it together, she doesn’t need my help at all. She reads out the clues and then fills them in straight away.

“First name of the last tsar,” she says, her eyes scanning the black and white grid. “Nicholas.”

“Zodiac sign represented by a ram. Aries.”

“Flightless bird endemic to New Zealand. Kiwi!”

And she really does look like she’s enjoying herself and despite this unidentifiable pain, despite my tiredness, despite this frustration coursing through my veins, when I see her innocent enjoyment it’s somehow all ok. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve enjoyed anything like that in a long time. Besides that ice cream that idiotic evening.

“What the fuck is the point of being a bird if you ain’t even goin’ to fly?” I say as she fills in the four letter word.

“I guess there’s no need if there are no predators,” she says, looking up at me, as if coming out of a trance. “I guess that’s why it’s an endangered species these days with all those introduced animals.”

Fucking evolution. Really fucked over that kiwi, eh? It’s all well and good to be weak when no one’s bothering you, when there are no threats but what are you going to do when everyone starts ganging up on you? When you’re suddenly the target? Are you supposed to just put your hands up and say I surrender? Wave that whtie fuckin’ flag and let them fucking kick you to the ground? No. That ain’t what you do. You get-

“What’s wrong?” I hear her voice.

“What?” I’m confused.

“You’re scowling like,” she says, imitating my anger-ridden face before cracking up and I can’t hold on to the rage either when she laughs like that.

“Nothing,” I say and try to change the topic. “How the fuck do you know all these things?”

“Oh…I am just older and wiser than you,” she says in this mystic voice before giggling and turning back to the magazine. “No. I kid. I just read a lot and know a lot of useless facts.”

Older and wiser. Yeah. That sounds about right.

“Score before volleyball team wins the set,” she reads out and I can see this puzzled, slightly annoyed look on her face now. “The sports ones always get me,” she says, the tip of the pen against her lip as she thinks.

I remember her lips on my skin again. None of this makes any fucking sense.

“Match point,” I say without much reflection.

She writes it in.

“Oh!” she says in delight. “Correct! How did you know?” She asks, turning back to me.

I think for a moment.

“P.E.,” I say.

I remember we used to play it every once in a while, before I got kicked out. And I particularly remember because I was fuckin’ good at it, like I was at everything in PE, and that last game we played… I was fucking carrying that whole game. As usual. We were at match point and I fuckin’ scored. I aimed it right at the inside of the line. I knew it would hit just inside the line, just out of the blockers’ reach. I fuckin’ saw it on the inside and they called foul, out of bounds and it didn’t fuckin’ count and the point went to other side. I remember arguin’, this blind anger taking over, and then being kicked off the court. Fucking memories. Happy days.. It was inside the line. It was just too hard, too fast for them to see. But I saw it. We were at match point. And I got told to calm the hell down and got thrown off the court.

Their fuckin’ loss I guess.

I said goodbye to that place forever soon after.

“I can’t say I ever liked PE much,” she says, her attention on me now, the magazine down in her lap. “I bet that was your favourite subject, huh?” she says.

“Nah,” I say. I mean, I liked it but it wasn’t my favourite. It was a good way to get moving, to let some steam off. More like a period to relax.

“What was your favourite?” She asks. “And don’t say lunch. Because that’s what you said last time. And I’m asking seriously now.”

“So it’s like that, eh?” I tease. “Asking seriously are you?”

She gives my leg a little shove with her foot, as if to say ‘Oh, come on!’

I fold my arms across my chest, think about it for a bit.

“Physics,” I say finally.

“Why physics?” she asks, all her attention still on me.

“Don’t know,” I shrug. “The experiments were fun.”

That ain’t a lie. I remember always likin’ the practical stuff in science. And then when we got to launch that rocket…that was just the icing on the fucking cake. I always preferred numbers to words and calc wasn’t bad either. But maths was more abstract. The numbers were just kind of there, these nebulous equations that just generated more numbers. In physics there was something practical, tangible. Forces, actions, reactions, gravity, energy. And the laws were always the same. Gravity was always gravity. There was no escaping it. Not like all those fucking words that were so abstract, meanings subtle and changing, depending on how they were said, who said them... With physics you felt like you were on solid ground and once you understood the principles, they would always be there.

“Yeah, science was pretty fun,” she agrees. “Even though it’s like a century since I’ve been to high school,” she laughs and goes back to the crossword.

Is that it? That’s it, isn’t it? The missing piece of the puzzle. It’s our age. She always exaggerates hers. Plays it off like it’s this terrible thing but I ain’t ever seen it as such. She tells me the most interesting things, and I always end up learnin’ something new whether I want to or not. And she seems to see right through my bullshit. When I’m with her, I feel somehow grounded and can forget the fuckin’ violent mess in my head for a while. She has this talent for taking me for a total joke when my head gets too fuckin’ big and listening to me with complete seriousness at other times, preventing me from fuckin’ exploding and destroying my life once and for all.

At the time, I resented hearin’ that. No one fucking cared about me. It took me an age to even accept that she did. Anyone trying to get close, to find things out were just bound to use it against me later on. That had been my experience. And I didn’t need anyone caring for me in the first fuckin’ place. I didn’t ‘rise through the ranks’, put myself through all that just to rely on others. I had learned quickly and painfully that that was never goin’ to be an option for me. I was proud to need no one. It was fucking childish. And I can’t say I really let myself rely on anyone still or let my guard down too much, but with her at least, I got it through my fucked up head, once and for all, that not everyone was trying to screw me over. Little by little, with her, I saw the world differently, even if it felt strange and unfamiliar. She was there, and I could trust her, at least. Finally, it felt like there was someone. Someone who hadn’t given up at the first sign of my trouble.

I must’ve dozed off because suddenly I open my eyes and it’s full on afternoon, the rich light pouring through the window.

I find her sitting where she was before, against the wall, legs on mine, pen in hand.

She gives me an easy smile as I come to.

“Good nap?” she says.

“Hmm,” I turn my head this way and the other, stretching my neck. Sittin’ like this wasn’t the most comfortable position to fall asleep in.

“I picked up all the towels,” she says, pointing her pen to the floor where all those towels she’d used on me the night before had piled up.

My bloody t-shirt was there too and now I can’t see a trace of it. But she doesn’t say a word about it. She knows it was there. I know it was there. But it stays silent like a huge fucking elephant in the room.

“I put all that stuff in the wash,” she says as we avoid the t-shirt specifically.

“You didn’t have-”

“And I cleaned the breakfast dishes. Are you hungry?”

I’m always fucking hungry.

“Of course you are,” she says before I can answer. “I’ll go buy something for lunch. Anything in particular you want?”

“You don’t have-” I start again, with more intent this time.

“Are you going to tell me what you want or do you want me to choose?” she will hear none of it.

“Fine, you choose,” I concede, feeling too tired to argue for once.

She slips off my bed and I watch her go, again. But she pauses and turns in the doorway.

“Oh, your former teacher stopped by,” she says, her voice uncertain, sensing this might be something I may not like.

“Fucking old man,” I hear myself mutter.

“He seemed very concerned. I told him you were sick yesterday but that you were doing a lot better.”

Heh. I wonder what the old bastard thought of that, a woman like that openin’ the door for him in the middle of the day. What did he make of that…

“He’s always fuckin’ concerned,” I growl, unable to keep the distaste out of my voice.

“He said he’d come back another time,” she says.

“He always fuckin’ does,” my eyes roll of their own accord.

“I think he just cares about you,” she gives me a sympathetic smile and heads off.

She comes back with bowls of hot ramen from the place around the corner and up the street and it feels so good goin’ down. I feel somewhat less tired, and this helps, but I ain’t a hundred per cent yet and I’m growing fuckin’ impatient. I’m not used to bein’ down for the count like this. It makes me agitated.

I’m just getting another Coke out of the fridge when there’s a knock on the door and I know straight away.

“It’s the kid,” I say as she takes the can from me and puts it right back in the fridge, closing it shut in my face. “Make some tea. I’ll get it.”

I can hear her opening the door, Tareo’s polite greeting.

“Is Uncle home?” he asks excitedly. He is completely oblivious to any implication her being here might have. He probably thinks she’s just here to see Delilah like he is.

“He is,” I hear her say, “but he’s a bit sick.”

“Is he ok?” Tareo asks, his voice filling with worry.

“Yes, he’s fine! But he’s got a nasty cold and he wouldn’t want you catching it,” she says kindly.

And this is a lie. And I know she’s not the kind of person to lie. And I know she’s not doing it for my sake. She’s doing it for his. Because half my face is still this very pretty violet colour, she’d probably call it lavender, and I realise she doesn’t want Tareo seeing me in that state. Doesn’t want him to be scared or worried. Doesn’t want me as a bad influence.

And I don’t disagree with her.

I’m a fucking disgrace.

And for the first time, I’m not proud of it.

And I feel like the idea of ever solving this puzzle that is us slips even further from my reach.

#taking care of Garou #garou #opm #garou one punch man #garou x reader #garouxreader #x reader #xreader #reader insert #garou fanfic #garou fanfiction #garou fluff #opm fluff #opm fanfiction #one punch man fanfiction #fluffy fanfiction

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hunchomatt · 6 months

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Nothing in my life remains constant, friends are constantly leaving and going, family relationships are constantly failing and growing, my grades are constantly fluctuating, my confidence is always in a different place, i move schools almost annually up until high school, I’ve never lived in one house for more than two years, and I never understand what I truly want. One thing that has remained constant for almost three years and counting is my geckos. I love them so much and try to do the best I can for them even when I truly have no energy to care about anything else. I don’t think anyone will ever understand how much I love them even though I do joke about not wanting them or how bad they may smell sometimes lol. They deserve their flowers for helping Matt stay alive unironically. Dexter is on the right while DeeDee is on the left. I don’t even know why I’m typing this lol no one will ever read it, but it’s good to talk I like to talk even though I am probably the quietest in a room of people I don’t know. Even in a room full of people I know sometimes I can be the quietest person there. It’s a result of being told how worthless I am over the years and how my opinion isn’t really needed, but I’m working on fixing that. One thing about me is I’m always trying. I like to say I’m giving up but I’m reality that’s just not an option for me even though every bone in my body wants this all to be over. I used to wonder where I get my resilience from considering everything that’s happened to me. But now I know that I can thank my ancestors for that one, they won’t let me give up. 🫶🏾

P.S.

- songs I add on these are either songs I just like as a teenager or songs I’m listening to as a write, I’ll always be listening to music when I write :)

#Spotify

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ultramagicalternate · 8 months

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ULTRAMagic Prelude Chapter 22

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Master Post

While making their way back to the beach, Blood-Wraith and Deimos ran into Dragoslava… who was eating fruit and angrily muttering to herself. “...Damn it, freaking soul fragments… stupid Lich… CAN I CATCH A BREAK FOR TWO SECONDS?!”

“Sister? I thought you were going to go check on Leif…”

“Blood? Er, yeah…” She replied with a mouth full of food.

“I take it that things are a bit complicated?” Deimos observed.

Dragoslava swallowed and burped. “That’s about right. I suppose I should probably tell you all about this issue I have. It's been weighing on me for a while. Did you know I used to have a crush before the great hunt? Ethor Kovarik. He was a cute dork I was flirting with. It didn’t help that the hunt kept us distracted, but we managed to become friends. Then I left to go explore and find out what the Beast’s deal was…”

“Did something happen?”

“He died while I was gone.”

Blood-Wraith was devastated. “Sister, I had no idea…”

Dragoslava held her hand up. “Stop. It’s in the past. There’s nothing you can do about it…” She then shattered a rock in her metal hand.

“Sister?”

She sighed. “We’re not supposed to die, the Descendants. When we do, we reincarnate, but where we end up is anyone’s guess. I didn’t know him that well, but it still stings. Sometimes I even think he’s coming around the corner, but it’s just Desislav. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear Ethor reincarnated as him.”

“Sister… Do you need a hug?”

“Right now? No. What I need is to work off this fruit, ha.”

“Hrm… Alright, but I am still giving you a hug eventually” Blood-Wraith stated.

Leif was watching the waves as the others exited the forest. “Back already? I figured you would have been… BROTHER?”

Deimos looked Leif in the eye. “It’s been a while…”

Naturally the 20 foot tall dragon leapt for joy, shaking the island. “HA, I KNEW YOU WEREN’T ACTUALLY GONE!”

“That’s not what your paranoia was saying…”

“Tyrant! Shush. Ahem, Deimos… What happened to you?!”

“Honestly I have no idea. Pride, fear, arrogance… I really should have stayed as The Made of Old. Thankfully I’ve matured a great deal since then.”

“So… what’s your plan? How are we going to stop your other half?”

“Always asking even though you know the answers… It’s simple: I’m taking back what’s mine and reincarnating. I’ve already begun the process.” Deimos pulled away his robes, revealing a chaotic mass of energy in his ribcage.

Leif was shocked. “Deimos! Is that… that’s ANTIMagic! What are you even doing?”

“I know, I know; not the ideal outcome. I don’t want to lose my progress, which is what got me into this mess in the first place… but this will work out for everyone. There’s always more than one way to peel a fruit.”

Blood-Wraith inspected Deimos. “Looks incredibly unorthodox. What is ANTIMagic?”

“Ditto. Is it a type of ULTRAMagic or something?” Dragoslava was also curious.

“Not quite. Allow me to explain” Deimos replied. “ANTIMagic occurs when there is a great upheaval with one’s magic. The mage can be changed or they can spawn an all new entity. The term “ANTIMagic” is not meant to be literal. It’s chaotic, unpredictable magic. In my case, I am pursuing ULTRAMagic… but the state of my being will end up corrupting it. An utter calamity I am not happy about.”

“Uncle?” Blood-Wraith put his arm on his shoulders. “Can you promise that you won’t go crazy?”

“I can’t make any guarantees, unfortunately…”

“That doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence, brother,” Leif pointed out. “...but if you feel this is the right thing to do, I’ll support you.”

Deimos chuckled. “I wouldn’t be going through with this if I truly doubted it. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous, however.”

“So I guess we’re finally going for it then?”

“Indeed Leif. This is our grand finale. Once we leave this world, we either win and reincarnate or die trying.” Deimos stepped towards the water. “So what about that loose end of yours?”

This gave a Tyrant a chill. “Um, pardon? What are you doing?”

“Blood-Wraith? Dragoslava? A word before we go tidy up and head off” Leif announced. “We haven’t known each other for long and that saddens me. It saddens me because I can say with the utmost certainty that my time is here. I will not be returning home with you from the Unspeaker’s realm. With that being said, allow me to explain why Tyrant exists. In hindsight, I had the same crisis that plagued The Mage of Old. I even considered burying my doubt and fear, but ultimately I refused. Instead, I manifested those feelings as a double. This double would never let me forget them no matter how hard I tried. Tyrant was not the best name, but it stuck regardless.”

“Hey, hey… I thought it was a cool… WAIT A SECOND! You’re… You’re not getting rid of me, are you?” Tyrant looked horrified.

“No, I’m passing you on.”

“What? Explain, please?”

“Tyrant, I no longer fear my mortality. It is something that must happen. I also don’t want to leave without having left my mark on the Cosmos, so I wish to bequeath you to Blood-Wraith. Blood? Do you accept this piece of myself?”

Blood-Wraith was speechless. “I…I… I accept? I… Leif?!”

“Good enough,” Leif said with a chuckle. Tyrant hesitated, but accepted his fate. As he left Leif’s side, the dragon’s scales went from black to sterling white. The cloud of shadows then plunged into Blood-Wraith, causing him to convulse. This forced him into his dragon form, with the difference being that he now resembled Leif in form and size.

Blood-Wraith flew up into the air and let out a mighty roar. “Don’t worry, Leif! I won’t let you down!”

“Haha! Most excellent. Now Deimos, shall we take care of your housekeeping?”

Aqua World (coined by Dragoslava) had an issue in that a spaceship from an unknown universe had wound up lost in the Unlight. The crew was a collection of humans and machines who were transporting their people across space. The current problem was that the machines had gone rogue and were messing things up planetside. Deimos had also tried to assist the humans before, but they had formed a religion worshiping the machines and labeled him as a trickster god of death. And since he was in a weakened state, the most he could do was sneak onto the ship to repair it so it did not plunge into the planet below.

Deimos explained all of this as they traveled to the island closest to the spaceship. He rode atop Leif while Dragoslava sat on Blood-Wraith’s back. The two dragons studied the strange structure. Calling it a spacecraft at this point was being generous. It looked more like a malformed tree looming in the atmosphere. Metal and strange growths jutted out all over it. The sad state of the ship elicited a sense of dread, like it was a tomb more than anything else. Even Dragoslava was unsettled by it, openly admitting her refusal to explore it. Fortunately they did not have to go anywhere near it.

“Just like the good old days, ey Leif?” Deimos asked as they landed.

“How do I miss those times, traveling the Cosmos without a care…”

“Alright, where are the bolt brains?” Dragoslava asked as she hopped off of Blood-Wraith. He then reverted back to normal.

“Close, but first things first: Blood, focus on the fragment of the Colossus, like you would if you were transforming” Deimos instructed.

Blood-Wraith was slightly confused, but did as he was told. “Okay…” a green flash of light appeared and left an 8 foot tall humanoid standing there. He was muscular in build and evoked a demon-like appearance. “Well now…” Blood-Wraith marveled at his new form.

“And there you go! This is what I’m going to call your Might Form. You are vastly stronger at the cost of your magic being weaker. Fortunately your angelic weapon should be able to compensate for that though.”

“Looking good, Blood!” Dragoslava complimented.

He wanted to comment further, but a mechanical hound leapt out of the bushes. Blood-Wraith caught it and threw it against a tree. This sent it running. Summoning Voidborne’s blade, Blood-Wraith dashed into the forest with the others following. The trees soon opened up into a clearing full of machines trying to set up a base on the island. Deimos barely had a moment to catch his breath before Blood-Wraith began fighting them. Dragoslava metalized her skin and immediately joined him.

“Geeze…phew… guys, not that one! The other one! Blood! Watch…out…”

“Deimos, have you tried reasoning with the machines?” Leif questioned.

He nodded. “Uh-huh… It went poorly. Apparently I don’t compute to them.”

After a bit of fierce brawling, Blood-Wraith was flung into a deep and large spring. This angered him. It reminded him of the battle at the Metal Oasis. With his rage ignited, an orange light erupted from the pool. A moment of silence was then interrupted by a giant serpent emerging from the water. Given that it had six eyes and her brother’s general appearance, Dragoslava assumed it was Blood-Wraith. He let out a roar that was more like a snake hiss and rammed into a specific machine.

“Alright, you're good! Don’t wreck the machines anymore!” Deimos called out as he ran over to a banged up terminal “That was the head machine, Blood! Now I can change their directives.”

Dragoslava walked over and was confused by what she saw. “What the… what kind of magic is this?” Blood-Wraith let out a low grumble, echoing his sister’s lack of knowledge.

Leif laughed. “That my friends is a computer. It is a combination of various metals and electricity that executes complex tasks. It’s not your fault for not knowing as the Descendants are old fashioned.”

“They made the right choice. Coding is a pain in the soul to learn…” Deimos groaned.

Blood-Wraith reverted back to normal once again. “That looks really cool! How do I get my hands on one of these… computers?”

“The Market District?” Dragoslava put forth.

“Most likely…and…There! Now the machines will prioritize keeping the humans safe, within reason” Deimos elaborated. “Now I can leave without having to worry. I definitely want to come back when all is said and done.”

Back at the temple, Deimos collected his possessions and returned to the beach. The next course of action was to head back to the Iron City and get ready to pursue the Lich. Desislav and Tusk would be brought along for support. They also most likely wanted to get back at the Lich for all the trouble he had caused. Flying back to the Unlight proper hit Deimos with nostalgia. It felt great to see that everything was mostly the same as when he left. He was also relieved to hear that the Iron City was safe.

“I remember back when the War Machine laid down to rest. I was stunned by the beauty of the city he had formed” Deimos called out as they flew.

“It’s kind of surreal knowing that my home is a giant corpse, if I’m being honest” Dragoslava commented back.

“Just as a heads up brother; the War Machine has been reborn” Leif added.

“Really now?”

“Indeed. Corentin Schindewolf did so as his magnum opus.”

“And my big sis even gave him a name: Maximus” Dragoslava continued.

Deimos liked that. “Maximus… I’d say that’s quite a fitting name. He was quite mighty in his prime.”

“Hey, Blood? Do you think Tusk will be okay with Deimos?” Dragoslava asked.

“Hmm… Well I think he’ll be more concerned about Leif’s appearance, the fact that Tyrant is gone, and that I’m now a full sized dragon.”

Dragoslava laughed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Next: Chapter 23

#chaotictempleknight #ultramagic alternate #fantasy #sciencefiction #sciencefictionfantasy #writing #story #fiction #chapter

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