#it all feels half baked and incomplete

[crickit-song]

I've figured out why Natlan's stories feel so weak to me:

First off, this is the first time there's been NO human vs human conflict in a archon quest AT ALL. Liyue had the us on the lam, Inazuma had its civil war, Sumeru's got the akademiya sage scheme, Fontaine's quest was half a legal battle, and even Mondstadt's simple "beat the dragon" quest involved us stealing the lyre. Additionally, The Fatui have been a constant battle since the beginning, and even when we were working together, there were still plots and at least a little nefariousness going on where we couldn't see. The Fatui have always been a big part of the worry throughout the story. However, in Natlan, at literally no point was the Captain any kind of threat. The mystery stuff at the beginning excluded, Capitano was just giving us a thumbs up the whole time.

Two, for a plot about collecting a group of people to save the world, this story was not at all about the people in Natlan. This story was focused 100% on the Abyss the entire time. I like Natlan's characters because they're fun to play, but none of them have any meaningful internal conflict brought about through the stories in Natlan. The only thing that happened for them was "hey traveler, You can do it, I promise. The abyss is here and bad." Kinich had no conflict, just annoyed by ajaw. Mualani was literally just confident the whole time. Xilonen was offscreen 90% of the time. The list goes on. I have no reason to care about what's going on for them. They're cute and all but they seem shallow and flat, like they have one character trait and that's it. Additionally, none of their personal stories or traits contributed to the archon quest. The side quests were just "hey forget about the abyss for a hot sec, I have this completely unrelated thing going on." Same for the world quests. Il Capitano's fight with Death was boring bc there was NO build up for it. "Oh, he hates death, oh he beat her with a loophole right now he didn't introduce until a second ago. Cool i guess"

Natlan was advertised as a Nation of War, and i was excited to see war. I was hoping for different tribes fighting against each other, needing to be united against an evil, perhaps by a new archon (to draw in the purpose of the archon system). I would have even had the fatui join them after a bit. However, the was no interesting emotional conflict at all. The bad guys were completely unfeeling and definitely in the wrong, which makes for boring story.

[goatgoesmbe]

You're a medic at Taskforce 141.

Except. you're still in medical school, at the final year, and must complete an elective rotation.

You applied for a specialized field elective, which is why you're here.

So expect more stress and sleep deprivation. finals. thesis. reports. all that on top of your work.

No time to care about yourself, messy hair, crumpled uniform worn to sleep, eyebags.

Of course, you work under supervision- a decent man really. He was just doing his job, but it pissed you off how he diminished you sometimes- making you feel like you can't do your job with many stuff on your plate already (which is true I guess, but- come on, you're here for the experience)

Fortunately, there are an odd four that somehow always made your day better.

Like how the Captain stepped in every time your supervisor not acknowledging you.

Or a certain sergeant with a mohawk who for some reason always needed something to patch up. He's probably just wreckless- but you like to think it's because he wanted to see you

Another sergeant- which was the kindest of the bunch. Will sometimes get you a cup of coffee how you like it, even accompany you during lunch- handfeeding you as you are busy studying for finals.

And the lieutenant cared about you in his own way.

Like that one time you were proof-reading your thesis late at night (or early morning) in the rec room..

"Your methodology is weak."

You jumped so hard that your laptop nearly toppled over.

Lieutenant Ghost stood behind you, arms crossed over his broad chest, silent as a ghost as he glanced at your screen, unimpressed.

"What-"

He ignored the question and nodded at your laptop. "You're making assumptions about patient stabilization times. Your sample size is too small. And your survival rate data is incomplete."

You frowned, feeling offended. "Excuse me-?"

Ghost exhaled, the closest thing to a sigh you'd ever heard from him.

He reached over, scrolling through your document with annoying precision, stopping at a paragraph.

"Here. You said field tourniquet applications reduce fatality rates by 60%, but you didn’t specify by mechanism—exsanguination control or delayed shock treatment?"

You stared. Not at the screen. At him.

This man—this cold, intimidating, emotionally-unavailable lieutenant—was critiquing her thesis at one in the morning.

"You… you read this?" You asked, incredulous.

He didn’t look at her. "You left your notes unsecured last week. I glanced through them."

"Glanced? You just ripped apart my entire methodology!"

He finally met your eyes, gaze sharp, unwavering.

"If you’re going to write a thesis based on field medicine, do it right. I won’t have you publishing half-baked conclusions based on incomplete data."

You blinked. Once. Twice.

He straightened, arms still crossed. "Rewrite them all tomorrow, get some sleep, or you’ll make more mistakes."

And just like that, he turned, heading toward the exit.

You called after him. "Lieutenant."

He paused.

"…Thanks," You mumbled with a smile.

He said nothing, but in the dim light, you swore you saw the faintest blush at the high of his cheeks- peeking behind his balaclava. And then he turned to walk away, disappearing into the night.

i like making reader to be miserable but loved, so- because let's be real, we read fics because we're miserable and wanted to be loved

[cillianhead]

Twitterpated || Tommy Shelby x reader

summary: You and Tommy spend your first spring together in the sunshine.

this is just a little short n sweet blurb for you all

WARNINGS: Mostly Fluff, the tiniest bits of smuttiness... Tommy gets a bit handsy, cuss words/adult language. 18+ MINORS DNI

It wasn’t often that you’d have days like this in Birmingham. The sky was usually grey with gloom and rain all around, in fact, you were used to the clouds, and you were well acquainted with the bleakness that was Birmingham.

But here you sat with your legs draped across your husband's lap and the sun shining proudly in the sky. There wasn’t a single cloud in sight. It almost felt like something out of a daydream. You wore a pretty little sundress, one you never really got to wear considering the typically cold and dreary weather— but once again, it was warm for once. Warmer than what you were used to.

Tommy sat with an open shirt, pale skin exposed from beneath his unbuttoned dress shirt. Oh, he looked divine. Your soft, nimble fingers caress his hair, and for once, he's not smoking a cigarette. For once, Tommy's mind isn't somewhere else, it's entirely on this moment. One hand of his had slipped up underneath your skirt like the cheeky bastard that he was, thick fingers toying idly with the waistband of your skimpy little panties. It wasn't something Tommy thought he was capable of feeling. Contentment, that's what he felt. It clung to him, heavy in his chest, the feeling was sweet and syrupy in a way... You couldn't remember a time you had seen him so relaxed. Besides, when he was in bed with you, of course. Tommy wasn't sure he deserved to feel this way. You had been in his life for a good five years by now, you had given him two little children, and all of your unconditional love. You were the kind of woman he'd never question his loyalty to; he knew you just wanted him for him and not for whatever other reasons women had wanted him for in the past.

Though Tommy did sometimes question why someone like you-- pure, innocent, and sweet, would love someone like him-- dark, tortured, and incomplete. The picnic blanket beneath you was red and checkered, the perfect gingham pattern, and hell, there was even a wicker basket full of fruit and half-eaten baked goods. In your idyllic bliss, you were eager to tell Tommy about your day and he was eager to listen... or at least that's what you thought. You rambled cheerfully on about the kids, and Tommy would nod gruffly, hand squeezing your thigh and body leaning into yours just a little more. You didn't think much of it when his gaze drifted away from you and slightly off into the distance; you were so consumed in chatting away that you didn't even notice the sound of hooves trotting gently in the grass towards the two of you. There was a stern look on Tommy's face, a look of deep concentration that seemed to be slipping away second by second as he stared off into the distance.

And then there was that goddamned smile of his, that dazzling grin that had practically charmed the pants off of you when you first met. But he wasn't looking at you in this moment, no, he was looking at the beast before him. Tommy's eyes glimmered with a certain fondness you had only ever seen him look at you with. That's when you stopped talking, wondering who or what he could possibly be looking at with so much love.

It didn't surprise you to find out that it was a horse he was looking at.

"Tommy, what are you-" You started before following his line of sight, finding your eyes landing on Tommy's favorite horse of them all. She was a big black mare, her name was Hestia... And god, you couldn't even be mad at Tommy for giving love eyes to the horse instead of you. He was always easily distracted when it came to his horses. "Tommy!" You scolded with a light smack to his chest, causing him to break out of his trance and snap back to you. "Are you even listening?" You laughed incredulously. "'Course I am, baby... keep going..." Tommy grumbled, squeezing your hip reassuringly. But his head only turned to look up at the horse once again, who chuffed happily at the sight of him. "Hello, Hesty..." Tommy crooned, reaching one hand out to pat at her muzzle. "Looking well, girl... how you liking this weather, eh?" He asked as if the beast would respond. She let out another short series of huffs before wandering off to graze in the long pickle-green grass. As soon as Tommy's attention was back on you, you were colliding your body with his and latching your mouth onto those sweet pair of lips of his. It was too much. It was just too much. It turned you on when Tommy got all sweet and tender like that, it made you feel all fuzzy inside. The fact that he loved his horses so much... made your heart practically burst out of your chest. He grunted into the kiss, though swiftly responded in turn to your needy kisses with his tongue probing into your mouth and his hands gripping at the meat of your hips. Tommy loved it when you got like this. "Easy, girl..." He warned lowly as you straddled his hips. As you lifted your head from him to look down at him, there was a prideful sparkle in those cerulean eyes, a look that made your chest ache and your core throb. "Actin' like a bloody mountain lion, hm?" Whatever story you had to tell was completely gone from your mind, all that mattered to you now was feeling up your dearest husband and soaking in the warm rays of sunlight that were just so rare around these parts. It didn't matter that you were out in the open, it didn't matter that the birds and the bees would see you ravish your husband on this crimson picnic blanket. Right now, you were just two animals getting coupled up for the spring, just like all the other creatures who wandered nearby.

Even after all this time together, you were both undeniably and passionately twitterpated by one another. And it would stay that way for as long as you lived.

-

Hi all... I hope you enjoyed this sappy little piece, I miss you all... I know I don't write as much these days. I'm working my way through a really long Robert Capa fic which I hope to get out soon!

[themadwomen]

So, uh, why is the Holiday family like that?

One thing that's been nagging at us since the latest chapter is their obsession over specifically Christmas. Santa decorations around their house, each of their names is a Christmas reference, even Noelle's laugh is a reference to Jingle Bells (fahahahaha, ha ha ha ha). This is pretty obvious to most people at this point, to the point where you'd have to live under a rock or just completely lack knowledge of American holidays to not catch that. But there's something... Off, about it.

So we know Rudy and Noelle go to church. Makes sense, if they devote their family's aesthetics to Christmas it should follow that they're Religious. However, you may notice the immediate problem that Christianity as a concept doesn't seem to exist in Deltarune. It's a whole different faith surrounding the Delta Rune and the prophecy. Which leads us to ask...

Why are the Holidays based around Christmas if it shouldn't exist?

Now, there are plenty of winter holidays not related to Christianity. In fact, Christmas itself is an amalgamation of various pagan holidays as well as Saint Nicholas Day. Yuletide and Saturnalia are the two biggest ones that come to mind. However, the holiday the Holidays seem to celebrate is SPECIFICALLY akin to Christmas. The only thing keeping it from being LITERALLY Christmas is that we don't know the name of it and that Santa is a literal reindeer. But those Santas are literally called Santa...

Noelle references the Nutcracker...

And there's also this detail from her room in Queen's mansion.

Noelle's room in that game is based off her search history, the implication being that she's constantly searching December Holiday. A sad character moment to be sure, but it also confirms that whatever holiday this is it shares a date with Christmas, it has a figure named Santa, and there's a piece of media from the Nutcracker involving mice and a hero.

If it's not Christmas, it's a 1:1 recreation of it.

Why does this matter? Well, religion seems to be a running theme in chapter 4, the Holidays are based off the specifically religious holiday of Christmas, but the religion in Deltarune is fictional.

This feels like it'll be important.

After all, Toby Fox looooooooooves to subvert tropes. He has an emphasis on video game tropes in particular, but other general fantasy tropes are probably not out of the question. One trope that you often see, usually in kids shows but often in general fantasy or sci-fi, is that they won't have Christmas per say, but they do have a winter holiday with some similarities, at least on the surface. Often enough there are enough differences in their origins or traditions that it still has a distinct identity from Christmas (say, Hearth's Warming from MLP), but just as if not more often you'll see a holiday that's just an expy of it (see Animal Crossing's Toy Day). If you want to see more examples, take a look through the TV Tropes page for "You Mean 'Xmas'."

So, what if the Holiday family's key trait is meant to be something seemingly innocuous before we learn about what the holiday itself actually entails? What it is, why it exists, what its traditions are? And what if it were to reveal something about the motivations of, say, Carol? What if the answers have been hiding in plain sight all this time, but we just can't make sense of them yet? An incomplete puzzle concerning the holidays... See edit.

We don't know. This theory is admittedly half-baked, but it's something we just couldn't get our mind off of. We just have a sight for how certain Christian concepts have become so normalized they even show up in fantasy settings with no actual Christianity whatsoever. We just have to wonder if Toby just didn't realize the story he's spent over a decade writing has this huge gingerbread-man-shaped plothole in it regarding its setting and world... Or if something more is going on.

EDIT 1: Turns out, Lancer literally talks about Christmas by name as well as Santa in chapter one. We just didn't clock it because we weren't checking there. Still, it's weird that in this monster-dominated environment where the entirety of history has changed to have human-monster relations Christmas seems to have survived. Not sure what that says about the world of Deltarune. It has to mean something... Right?

[zenithangelic]

Holiday headcanons for the Silent Hill protags?

Silent Hill protags Holiday Headcanons:

Harry Mason

Harry is the type to spend hours agonising over the perfect gifts for his loved ones. He puts deep thought into what Cheryl (or anyone he cares about) would truly appreciate, often opting for heartfelt, practical items that also carry a hint of sentimentality.

He enjoys brisk winter walks, especially in the quiet, snow-covered woods, reflecting on life's mysteries while trying to keep his mind at peace.

Harry’s holiday evenings are incomplete without a steaming mug of hot cocoa, preferably shared with someone. He probably makes it with extra marshmallows, even if he’s drinking it alone.

He watches classic holiday movies (like It’s a Wonderful Life) and inevitably gets emotional, though he’d never admit it.

James Sunderland

James has a tendency to dwell on the past during the holidays. Old photo albums and bittersweet memories dominate his thoughts. He might even write letters to Mary, just to process his emotions.

While not enthusiastic about decorating, James will hang up a string of lights or a small wreath if encouraged. It’s a half-hearted effort, but it helps him feel a little less alone.

James finds solace in sitting by a fire or a cozy heater, listening to soft music. He might even nurse a glass of wine or eggnog to help him unwind.

James will drop money into donation buckets or give to toy drives if he stumbles across them. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he feels better afterward.

Heather Mason

Heather’s holiday spirit leans toward snarky. She loves ugly Christmas sweaters and cheeky ornaments, but she also secretly enjoys traditional activities like baking cookies or wrapping gifts.

Heather thrives on the chaos of shopping on Christmas Eve, navigating crowded malls with the precision of a battlefield general. She somehow always ends up with gifts that everyone loves.

Her sense of humour comes through in her holiday cards, which are a mix of crude doodles and heartfelt messages. It’s her way of saying she cares without being overly sappy.

Heather loves winter shenanigans, especially snowball fights. She’s quick, precise, and ruthless in her aim, making her a formidable opponent for anyone brave enough to challenge her.

Henry Townshend

Henry prefers to keep things simple, spending his holidays in solitude or with a small circle of trusted friends. A good book, some quiet music, and warm lighting are all he needs to feel content.

He has a habit of staring out his apartment window, watching snowflakes drift down and imagining the lives of the people he sees below.

Henry often spends the holidays painting or sketching scenes inspired by the season—snow-covered streets, twinkling lights, or cozy interiors. It’s therapeutic for him.

He’ll cook something special, even if it’s just for himself. Henry’s meals are simple but hearty, like a warm stew or a freshly baked pie. Cooking helps him feel grounded.

A/N: I'm so sorry that I took so long with these, I've had an extremely busy month. I know that the holiday season is coming to an end, but I wanted to get these published anyway!

♡If you liked this fic, please consider buying me a coffee! Ko-fi ♡

[nobleriver]

Is Rick the jealous type? If so what would he do if a guy was flirty with Michonne?

[Disclaimer: Tumblr never saved my edits 2x in a row, so if this doesn’t make sense, it’s because my brain is tired of trying to regurgitate the coherent answer I first came up with]

First of all, I want to sincerely apologize for being so, so, so late responding to this. To be honest I think either youledmehere or whateverisbeautiful would give a better, more definitive answer.

I don’t know if I can speak on him because I don’t know the ins and outs of his character. I haven’t watched enough of the show. I’ve only seen TOWL and maybe 33% of the main show. Basically, I’ve skimmed the book, read the epilogue, but never digested it whole (a crime, I know, I plan to go back). I don’t want to pretend I know what I’m talking about. Anything below is just my rambling opinion so far.

It depends. Early Rick? Yes. Current Rick? I don’t think so.

To me a jealous type is a negative thing: a person who feels so insecure in their role and in their relationship, they habitually perceive others as a threat that may take their position. To be the jealous type is to see your value as outside of yourself as external removable component, as something somebody else can mimic, reproduce, or steal.

Early Rick was the jealous type. From my cursory look at the early seasons, Rick – as a husband and partner – comes across as incomplete, his character development half-baked. Possessive, aggressive (when not indifferent), jealous to the point of violence (literally kept killing his rivals). A simmering bomb waiting to go off. His insecurities were still a gaping, festering wound: his lack of confidence as a husband, a father, a leader, a man – which were then exacerbated by Shane’s betrayal, Lori’s death, the fall of the prison, and more. Maybe I’m being hyperbolic, who knows? Yet, the difference between Rick then and Rick now is night and day, and it boils down to, in my opinion, security.

The current Rick, the Rick I am most familiar with, Michonne’s Rick, does not exhibit the aggressive, insecure jealousy of his younger self. He has no reason to be jealous, no reason to doubt or try to assert his importance to her. He knows where he stands. They are the love of each other’s lives, and they aren’t afraid to say it aloud. They exhibit such healthy communication. Michonne constantly speaks life into him, encouraging him, strengthening him, reminding him of his necessity to her and to their family. He is the love of her life and the father of their children. He cannot be mimicked. He cannot be replaced. They have never experienced that level of intimacy with anyone else in their lives, an unbreakable, logic-defying soul connection. They are secure in each other. Almost nine years passed, and he knew her love hadn’t changed. Soulmate connection so deep they act as mirror images of each other: “I know you never moved on from me because I never moved on from you.” What a brilliant foil to his first reunion. Connections like that can make jealousy dissipate. There’s no impetus driving it, no anxious root for it to stem from. Why be jealous when you know she will never desire anyone but you, and you never desire anyone but her?

Michonne represents this concept so well in her interaction with Jadis in 7x10 (?). When Jadis makes a move on Rick, Michonne doesn’t become aggressive or defensive, telling Jadis to stay away from her man. No, she just looks perplexed at Jadis, then looks at Rick, then back at Jadis, and just calmly says (paraphrasing): I think we should go. Then, she walks away, knowing Rick will follow. It’s laughable for Jadis to approach Rick in that scene because he’s so obviously, irrevocably Michonne’s, and Jadis knows that. Michonne is 100% secure in Rick's love for her. When Michonne shows up in the CRM, she never perceived Thorne or Jadis as a romantic threat. No jealousy, even when Thorne tried to say Rick was her family. She had zero doubt her man waited for her, the same way Rick had zero doubt she waited for him. Again. Mirror images.

In short, I don't know for sure. Yet, I imagine current Rick is too entangled and secure in his wife’s love to notice the flies buzzing around them, too busy staring at her lips to register anyone else as a threat (also because he knows they never will be and vice versa).

[berryhobii]

Clouds (jhs x reader)

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x black!female!reader

Word Count: 6K+

Warnings: heavy angst, metaphors and illusions of depression, mentions of autism/depression/sociopathic disorders, mentions of the mistreatment of black women in medical situations(bc this very much still happens), overbearing mothers(but she comes from a good place I swear), feelings of being incomplete, feelings of inadequacy, a very bad date, mentions of fetishizing black women, Hoseok being a ray of sunshine, CRYING, mentions of codependency(bc it’s a soulmate au), one kiss but it’s very sweet, lots of rain and sun metaphors

A/N: Hi hi! I’m back with this sobfest of a fic 🥹 I swear I did not mean to make this this sad, it just kind of happened. I rewrote it a bunch of times and finally flowed on his particular idea. I love soulmate au’s, especially the cute ones with a countdown timer but I wanted to try something different. Something not as overt while still keeping the spirit of a soulmate au which is finding your other half. This is also a shoutout to all of the black people who suffer from depression. I know us being depressed isn’t taken as seriously especially to our families. Mental health isn’t taken seriously in black communities altogether and I really hope that will change. I see so many of us breaking generational curses; with our children, our friends, our relationships, and ourselves. I love seeing it. If you’re non black and read this, I hope it gives you some insight as well. To my black and melanated readers, I hope my stories can give you some comfort outside of just BTS. I hope you feel represented, I hope you feel important, and I hope you feel loved. Because you are all of those things🩵🩵much love. Stay safe. Criticism is always appreciated.

~

Dull. Stagnant. Lifeless.

That’s how you’d describe your world.

Each minute passed slower than the last, the monotony of your days only broken up by the arrival of the night. You didn’t even dream. Sleep was purely a necessity for you; you couldn’t escape to the vividness of a dream because color didn’t exist in your world.

You’ve accepted it. Accepted that you’d simply exist, drifting as another human among the billions of others. There was nothing special about you nor did you have any qualities people desired to interact with you for.

Mundane. Indifferent. Uniform.

That was you. Plain ol’ you.

“Are you okay, baby?” The voice of your mother called from the doorway of your childhood bedroom.

Rain pattered against the window, your gaze following whatever drop you found most interesting. You’d follow it until it disappeared or until it merged with other drops, the combined weight causing it to cascade faster down the glass.

You wished you could be a raindrop. Falling from the sky to nurture the earth then returning upward to form clouds. Then at least, you’d be useful. You could help plants grow, overfill the streaming rivers, bring relief to dry deserts.

Raindrops were so important.

You tore your eyes away from the window, looking at your mother. “I’m fine, mama.”

You could say that but she knew it wasn’t true. She also knew that asking you too many questions only resulted in her own emotional breakdown.

Why was her baby like this? What was wrong with you? Why did you look at her like she was just a stranger?

Swallowing back her tears, she managed a tiny smile. “The food is ready. It’s baked chicken, your favorite.”

Was that your favorite meal? You didn’t even know. Food didn’t matter much to you. It just kept you alive.

“Okay. I’ll be down in a second.” You said before turning back to the window, only to find the rain had let up. A light drizzle.

Your mother didn’t say anything, just backed out of the room, a single tear rolling down her face.

When you were born, the doctor’s considered you kind of a strange child. Not only was your mother’s entire labor pain free but you didn’t cry coming from the womb. You were breathing and all of your senses were completely fine.

You just wouldn’t cry.

You didn’t cry when you were hungry or wet, not even when you fell and hurt yourself. You felt pain but you didn’t cry.

Lots of people chalked it up to you just being a well behaved and calm kid. That should have been a blessing to your parents, right? A kid who didn’t cry or throw tantrums to do regular stuff kids did. Your parents should be so lucky.

But your mother knew something was wrong. That perpetual blank stare you always had, how you never smiled or found any real interest in toys or television, how you kind of just drifted around. You reminded her of a still flower on a rippling pond; so beautiful but unaffected by things around you.

She consulted many doctors on possible reasons for your seeming lack of emotions.

Were you chronically depressed? Did you have a sociopathic disorder? Were you autistic?

Maybe. Perhaps. A possibility.

Nothing was set in stone.

It even hit a point where your parents just completely lost hope. They still loved you the same. They’d just have to accept that you were the way you were.

But then your mother took you to see one final doctor who cleared up every suspicion anyone ever had.

Soulmates.

Less than 0.0001 percent of the population were comprised of these special people. However, there was so little information on this phenomena that affected such a minuscule portion of the population. Did a such thing even exist?

Your father was skeptical. He thought you just had some sort of mental problem and that the doctors were misdiagnosing you. He worked in the medical field and he knew black women were more likely to be mistreated. He believed they just didn’t care.

But your mother believed. What else could she do? She was holding on to the little ray of hope that you could get better.

Soulmates were opposites of one another in a multitude of ways. Sometimes it could be something as simple as height or biological sex, other times it could be complex like gender or religious affiliation.

And in serious cases like yours, it could be something as deep as the very fibers of your being.

You were incomplete without your soulmate. Only they could shine the light and illuminate the darkness that surrounded you.

The only problem is there was really no identifying factors that could help find your soulmate. No marks, no red string, nothing.

And with so many people all over the world, the chance of you finding them was almost nonexistent.

But your mother wouldn’t give up. She’d fix you.

~

“He’s a very nice boy. His mother says he’s upbeat and friendly too. He might be the one.” Your mother gushed as she removed another flexi-rod from your hair, her oiled fingers working carefully to unravel each one.

You didn’t say anything, staring ahead into the mirror in front of you. You had become used to seeing your made up face; foundation, concealer, highlight and whatever color eyeshadow matched the outfit she chose for you. You didn’t really care but your mother insisted you wear some to impress your date.

That’s why she was doing all of these preparations; to send you on yet another date in hopes of finding your soulmate.

Now that your mother knew the cause of your “ailment”, she was working overtime to find whoever they were. So far, you’ve met 41 people, male and female, multiple ethnicities, and all from different backgrounds. The only thing that tied them together was that each other them were happy and bright people. Each of them were social and loved by many. That had to be who your soulmate was, right?

All of these people and meetings and you’ve yet to find your other half. Your mother had been expanding her social circle in search of the person who would “heal” you; children of close friends, children of friends of close friends, even random people she’d overhear talking about their own children. She was on a mission and nothing would stand in her way.

Your mother completed the final touches on your hair, her smile wide.

“Look at how beautiful you are.”

She told you that often, ever since you were a little girl. Words of affirmation recited to you in an attempt to build your self confidence.

You guessed it must be true since she said it everyday.

You didn’t say anything again, her smile faltering just a tad but quickly widening again. She retrieved a simple necklace off the vanity, clasping it around your neck.

“There. Perfect.”

Suddenly, the doorbell rang and your mother sprang into action.

“He’s here! Come come.” She beckoned you with a frantic hand.

You stood from the chair, following her out of the room and to the living room. She handed you your purse and draped a shawl over your shoulders.

“Okay, you’re ready. Remember your manners and smile, okay?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

She pulled you into a hug, squeezing you tightly as she always did. Affection wasn’t really something you minded nor did you reciprocate it. Your parents hugged you all the time but you never really felt anything. You understood it was how people showed affection and love, the internet told you that.

You just didn’t get it. You didn’t feel it.

But you hugged her back anyway.

You stood there in her embrace for 23 seconds longer before she released you. Her hand came up to cup your cheek, her thumb running across the apple of it.

Her smile was gentle but it didn’t reach her eyes, that glossy sheen always misting her eyes. Your mother cried a lot but never in front of you. You could sometimes hear her or find her wiping away tears if you’d enter the room, that smile always pulling at her lips acting as if nothing was wrong.

It confused you. It was obvious she was cried so why did she hide it?

Oh well.

“Have fun, okay?”

Opening the door, you found date number 42 standing there. He was dressed sharply in a crisp suit, hair gelled back out of his face, a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

His mouth dropped when he saw you, eyes traveling from your feet to the top of your head.

“Wow.” He breathed out. “You look stunning.”

Remembering your manners, you answered, “Thank you.”

Clearing his throat, he held out the flowers to you. “These are for you.”

You took the bouquet from him then you remembered something your mother drilled into you.

“Always smile when someone gives you flowers. It means you appreciate them.”

Wasn’t saying thank you the appreciation?

Still, you put a smile on your face. A practiced smile that you’d rehearse in the mirror under your mother’s watch.

“They are lovely. Thank you.” You tried to add some inflection to your voice to sound grateful but it just came out robotic.

If number 42 noticed, he didn’t say anything, simply taking your thank you for what it was.

Holding out his arm, he asked, “ready to go? Our reservation is soon.”

Nodding, you placed your hand on his arm and let him escort you out of the door and down to his car. He opened the door for you, helping you inside and even making sure you put on your seatbelt before closing your door. He rounded to the driver’s seat and got in, buckling himself in and starting the car before pulling off.

“I hope you like seafood. The restaurant we’re going to has the best seafood pasta.”

You didn’t dislike it. Food was food to you. It was simply sustenance.

You stared out of the window as he began rambling about his favorite restaurants. You blankly watched the scenery pass, not really taking note of anything. Just watching.

Then you saw a raindrop hit your window, followed by a few more.

You heard your date make a noise of concern. “I didn’t think it would rain. Hopefully it’s only a drizzle. I hate when it rains. Don’t you?”

“No.”

He glanced over at you, a little chuckle coming from him. “Ah you’re one of the ones who like rain, huh? Why? It’s cold and wet and makes you sick.”

You continued to watch the drops patter against the window.

Yes rain was cold. It passes through a thin layer of cold air before falling to the earth. Yes rain was wet. It was water.

But rain was also….

“Rain is important.”

He snorted. “I guess so. It’s just inconvenient in cities.”

Inconvenient, huh?

You didn’t say anything in response to him, silence engulfing the inside of the car.

He coughed to break the air before reaching for the radio. A low pop song began playing through the speakers, not doing anything to alleviate the awkwardness but doing everything to prevent any more conversation.

Thankfully(for him), you arrived at the restaurant just minutes after. The rain was still at a very light drizzle which was good since he didn’t bring an umbrella.

He opened your door, holding out his arm to help you out.

The restaurant was nice on the inside. It reminded you a lot of the places your parents would take you for birthdays or graduations.

Clean. Fancy. Stuffy.

You both approached the hostess that sat behind a podium. She greeted you both with a bright smile.

“Welcome to Rêverie. Do you have a reservation?”

“I do. Two under Lee Jihyun.”

Oh yeah. That was his name.

She scrolled through her tablet. “Ah yes. Right this way.”

She led you through tables filled with other patrons. For a Thursday night, this place certainly was busy.

Jihyun pulled out your chair and you thanked him before sitting down.

“Your waiter will be with you shortly.” The hostess said, bowing and then walking away.

After removing his suit jacket and draping it over the back of his chair, he turned to face you.

“So, y/n. Tell me about yourself.”

That was an open statement. You didn’t know what to say.

So you questioned, “what do you want to know?”

He tapped his chin in faux thought, a little inquiring smirk on his face.

“Hmm….what’s your favorite food?”

“I don’t have one.”

His smile dropped a little but he remained positive. Letting out an awkward chuckle, he ran a hand through his hair.

“Okay. What’s your favorite color?”

“I don’t have one.”

You saw the little twitch in his brow. Your father did that sometimes when he was really focused on his work. He told you it was because he was annoyed or frustrated with something.

Was Jihyun annoyed or frustrated with you?

“Then where are you from?”

“Chicago.”

He exhaled some air through his nose, tilting his head a little. This was getting nowhere.

At that moment, a waiter came to your table with 2 glasses of water and some menus.

“Hello there. I’ll be your waiter today. Can I start you off some drinks?”

Jihyun seemed to perk up at the arrival of the waiter, his smile returning full force.

“Yes we are. I’ll take a glass of your finest red wine.” Then he looked to you. “And for you? A glass of wine?”

You didn’t drink alcohol. Mainly because you just didn’t like it.

“No. I’ll keep my water. Thank you.”

The waiter nodded. “I’ll be right back with those and to take your order.”

Now you two were left alone again. Great.

A silence just as thick and uncomfortable as the one in the car encompassed your table.

Jihyun drummed his fingers on the table, thoughts racing as he tried to think of a conversation topic to get you talking. Then it hit him.

“Your mom set this date up, right? My mom’s been hounding me about settling down. What about you?” He curiously inquired.

He didn’t know? Hmm.

“She’s searching for my soulmate. She said that I’ll be happy if I find them.”

That seemed to spark his interest. “Soulmate?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He tapped his finger again. “So…..how exactly does that work?”

You barely knew fully. The doctor who diagnosed you could only explain so much since soulmates still aren’t very common or explicitly studied.

“I can’t express or feel most emotions, specifically ones of joy or sadness. Whoever my soulmate is is the opposite of me. That’s why my mother set you and I up.”

He let that information soak in. His mother didn’t say anything about this. All she told him was that a friend of hers had a gorgeous daughter. And if he was being honest, he was pretty curious about dating a black woman.

You certainly were beautiful and your poofy hair was interesting looking.

Your personality though? It left a lot to be desired. He was expecting you to be a little sweeter, more responsive to him. You didn’t even react at seeing his super expensive car nor did you say anything about the restaurant. He was putting a lot of money into this date so he was expecting more.

At least you were pretty.

Now as for this soulmate business. It didn’t make a lot of sense to him. Of course he’s heard about soulmates but he thought it was a load of crap.

Then again, you were strange. You were expressionless and lackluster. Your monotone answers showed your lack of interest and you’ve only smiled once since he met you.

Maybe you did have a soulmate. No one could be this boring without reason.

Well, your personality didn’t really matter. You weren’t ugly, that’s all he was concerned about.

He snorted, waving a hand around. “You don’t have to worry about that. You have me now. I’m all you need.” He reached a hand over to cup your chin. “As long as you listen to me and stay pretty, it’ll be fine.”

Listen? Stay pretty? You already did that.

Your objective wasn’t either of those things. It was to find your soulmate; the person who was your other half.

The person who would help you.

“You’re not my soulmate. What could you offer me?”

His eyebrow twitched again, a forced laugh falling from his lips. He released your chin and leaned back in his chair.

“Ha! What do I have to offer? I have plenty.” He bragged with a huff and a flare of his nostrils.

But what? What could he offer you? Your mother said that only your soulmate could give you what you really needed. This man obviously wasn’t it so what could he give you? Why were you even still here?

“Never leave a date early. It’s rude.”

What was the point? Wasn’t the goal of this date to figure out if he was your soulmate? He wasn’t so why couldn’t you leave? All the lessons from those etiquette classes your mother instructed you to sit through danced around your head.

“You aren’t my soulmate. There’s nothing you could give me.”

That really seemed to piss him off because he was suddenly slamming his hands down on the table. The force caused your water to shake, the liquid rippling in the glass.

“How dare you?! I take you on this fancy date and try to be nice to you and you insult me like this? You should feel grateful I even entertained the thought of meeting you.” He ranted spitefully, his entire face blazing red and veins popping out of his forehead.

Grateful? You should feel grateful? How did you do that?

Other patrons were startled by your date’s sudden outburst, whispers and mutters sounding around the restaurant.

That’s when the hostess appeared at your table.

“Sir, please calm down or I’ll have to ask you to leave.” She attempted to soothe him, holding up her hands as if calming a wild horse.

But your date wasn’t hearing any of it. His anger was too much to contain right now.

He pointed at you. “I only went on a date with you because my mom said you were pretty but she didn’t tell me you were so disrespectful. She also said your mother was desperate to marry you off and that she’s been trying to push you on any person she could.” He bellowed with a hearty and mocking laugh. “Just how many people have you been with already?”

“41. You’re number 42.” You answered simply and that took his irritation from a 100 to a 101.

Letting out a growl of frustration, he stood from the table, grabbing his jacket and practically snatching it on his body.

“You know what? I don’t need this! I have plenty of women lined up for me. I thought dating a black girl would be exciting but you’re seriously a bore. I’m leaving.”

He stomped away from the table, leaving you alone and letting the mind’s of the strangers surrounding you racing.

Just as you were about to get up to leave, he came back to the table, snatching the flowers he gave you earlier from the surface.

“And give me these back!”

Ah. There goes number 42. Your mother would probably get that look on her face again. That misty look in her eyes…..that she’d just cover with a smile and reassure you that she’d find someone else for you.

Again and again. Over and over.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your waiter shuffling back over, a small brown bag in his hands.

“Um, we won’t charge you for the wine since it never reached the table.” He stated nervously, worried that you’d blow up next at his words.

“Okay.”

He then placed the bag on the table. “Please take this red velvet cake. It’s on the house.”

~

The rain was pouring when you stepped out of the restaurant. The awning outside protected you from the brunt of the downpour but you could still feel the drops hitting your bare legs.

You should call a cab. A cab would take you home.

Home.

As if they had a mind of their own, your feet carried you out into the heavy rain. The harsh drops hurt your skin but you continued.

Cold rain soaked through your clothes and all the way down to your shoes, goosebumps rising across your skin but it didn’t bother you.

Nothing did. Maybe that was your main problem.

The stares of people you walked by didn’t bother you. The chill of the rain didn’t bother you. The pain of your feet in these heels didn’t bother you.

Why? Why were you like this? Why couldn’t you feel anything?

“Because you’re broken.”

That’s right. You were broken. Like a porcelain ballerina on a music box; anyone could see how poised and perfect you were, a true sight to see. Sparkling and beautiful, their expectations were high but when they turned your key…..

No music came out. The inner workings of your soul were rusted and stiff, your heart merely a muscle that pumped blood through your veins, your life just something you lived.

You had no purpose. You didn’t exist for anything. You were just a doll, one that would collect dust in an antique case until the end of time.

Your feet slowed to a stop, the assault of the rain feeling like daggers against your skin. You tilted your head back to stare up into the dark sky.

You wished you could be a raindrop. You just wanted to fall and then go back to the sky.

At least then you wouldn’t be so useless. You wouldn’t make your mother cry. You wouldn’t be a burden.

You wouldn’t be incomplete.

“Hey are you okay?”

Your ears itched so you lifted your hand to scratch at it.

“Why are you out here without an umbrella? It’s pouring.”

Why were your ears so itchy? Did you need to clean them?

“Did the rain come out of nowhere for you too? The forecasts are so unreliable sometimes, huh?”

You didn’t understand. Why was……why…..?

Your head slowly came down from its craned position and your heart did something other than simply beat.

It squeezed.

Something you’ve never felt before jolted through your entire body, so powerful and consuming that your knees buckled. You stumbled forward a little, the grip on the bottom of your heels doing nothing to keep your upright.

“Oh hey! Are you alright?”

Then you were met with warmth. No, something more than that.

Heat. Body scorching and all encompassing heat engulfed your body. It felt like someone had poured gasoline over you and a lit a match.

A hand touched your arm and that heat spread like a hot brand across your skin. You couldn’t even feel the coldness of the rain that soaked your clothes and skin anymore. It was like someone wrapped a warm towel straight out of the dryer around you.

“Hey….”

Slowly, as if this bubble you formed would burst, you leaned your head back to look into a pair of eyes so iridescent and dazzling that you thought you were staring right at a cluster of stars.

Like the sun after rain, a rainbow stretching across the blue sky.

It was him. He had found you.

You two stayed locked in eye contact for a very long moment. The world seemed to fade away, not even the sound of rain or honking cars could bring you back.

Then like a ray of sunshine, he smiled but unlike your mother or other people you’ve met, this smile held no sadness, no pain, no ulterior motives.

It was pure. It was beautiful.

“Have you been waiting long for me? I’m sorry.” He lifted the hand that wasn’t holding the umbrella to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray raindrop.

Then the dam broke and for the first time in your entire life, you did something you never thought you’d be able to do.

You cried.

Loud and heart wrenching, as thunderous and roaring as the storm you two were in. Every emotion you’ve never felt since birth swelled in your chest, traveling up your throat and out of your mouth as you let out wails of sorrow.

Wails of joy. Wails of anguish. Wails of strife. Wails of gratitude.

You cried.

And he held you, shielding you from the rain and holding the broken pieces of you together before you could fall apart again.

His hand stroked your back up and down as he hummed a song to you. “It’s okay. Let it out. I know it’s been hard for you. I’m here now.”

Yes. He was here. He found you. You’d be okay.

~

The sound of a phone ringing woke you from your haze of sleep. Your head felt fuzzy and your body felt heavy.

Where were you?

Lifting your arm, you felt around the nightstand until you touched the object you were searching for. You turned on your side, bringing your phone to your face, eyes squinting at the brightness.

Mama.

Why was she calling you? Wasn’t she in the next room?

Pressing the answer button, you held the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“y/n! y!n, where are you? My friend just called me and told me you had a falling out with Jihyun. Are you okay? You didn’t even come home. I thought something happened to you.”

Jihyun? Oh yeah, your date. The memories of that awful dinner were starting to come back to you. You couldn’t even call it dinner since you didn’t even eat but whatever.

“Sorry, mom. He left me at the restaurant and it started raining really hard so I….” Your train of thought derailed, more memories of last night flowed into your brain.

Jihyun leaving you. Your walk in the rain. Bumping into someone.

That feeling in your chest….

Your soulmate! You found them. You never went home. You went with them instead.

“y/n? Is everything okay?” Your mother questioned with concern laced in her voice.

You felt something move behind you and you remembered everything.

“Mama, I promise I’m fine. I’ll be home later, okay?”

You couldn’t see the look of confusion on her face but you could feel it was there. “Uh, alright honey. Be careful. I love you.”

You smiled, feeling tears prick your eyes as your heart rapidly pounded in your chest.

“I will. I love you too, mama.”

And you did. You loved her so much. You could feel it.

Just like how you could feel her own tears even after you hung up the phone.

After placing your phone back on the nightstand, you paused and sat in silence for a moment.

So many feelings and thoughts rushed through your body like a rapid stream, rain had fallen and filled the cavern that was your soul, overflowing every empty crevice and nourishing the flora that had been withered and dry. With these new and unfamiliar feelings expanding, it almost hurt.

You were happy that it hurt though because that meant you were feeling.

You could feel now. You were so unexplainably happy.

Turning back to your other side, your eyes met the sleeping form of the person who made all of this possible.

Reaching a hand out, your fingertips grazed over his cheek. You could still so vividly remember how the cheekbone rounded when he graced you with that breathtaking smile. You wanted to see it again. You wanted to learn about what makes him smile, what makes him happy, what makes him sad.

You wanted to understand his feelings.

Your finger traced all across his face; his eyebrows, his nose, his lips, his chin. As if you were trying to memorize each atom of his face.

A part of this felt like a dream, one you were afraid you’d wake up from but if you did, you still think you’d be happy. Happy because at least you had this much. If this was a dream, you wouldn’t mind because this dream would be precious to you.

With another touch of his eyelids, he flinched causing you to do the same. His hand lifted to rub at his face, grumbles and mumbles coming from his lips. You watched as he stretched his body before flopping back down and then his eyes cracked open.

Your breath hitched in your throat, heart going crazy in your chest and another swell of emotions you couldn’t place surging as well.

He blinked sleepily before his eyes finally landed on you. Staring into the brown irises brought that heat back but even stronger this time. You didn’t really understand it but you wanted to.

“Oh, you’re awake? Did you sleep well?” His light voice croaked as he rubbed the drowsiness out of his eyes.

You nodded. “I did. Did you?”

Then he smiled and your heart squeezed.

“Yeah. I did too. For the first time in a while.”

There was a hint of something in his words but you couldn’t place it.

“Do you have a hard time sleeping?”

He looked up at the ceiling, staring as if it held the solution to all of his problems.

“Yeah.”

You felt like he had more to say and you were about to ask a follow up question when the sound of your stomachs growling interrupted.

His smile was bright and his laughter was contagious. “Are you hungry? I can make us some breakfast.”

“That sounds great.”

~

“I’m Hoseok, by the way.” He said as he placed a fried egg on a plate and then served it to you.

He let you shower first, even letting you wear some of his clothes since the dress you wore last night was still soaked through. You were actually already wearing a large t shirt of his and a pair of boxers that he leant you, both brand new of course. A part of you didn’t even want to shower because you didn’t want him to leave your eyesight. You finally found him and all you wanted to do was admire him and be close to him. He felt exactly the same but he was starving since he didn’t eat dinner last night. And now that you thought about it, neither did you.

Now you were both in his kitchen while he whipped up breakfast.

You didn’t even realize you never asked him his name. Hearing it now flared that heat in your heart again.

Hoseok. It was nice. It fit him.

“I’m y/n.”

He smiled at you again. You really liked seeing him smile.

“That’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

You’ve been hearing that for years, all your life really but hearing him say it, you truly believed it. From his lips, it sounded sincere, like he was looking past just your physical appearance.

He was looking at you. All of you.

“I have a question.” He said as he ate a blueberry.

You hummed in acknowledgment, letting him know he could continue.

“Why were you out in the rain like that?”

Any other time, you wouldn’t have hesitated to give the answer but your words got caught when he asked. Should you even tell him? Would he get upset? Why did you feel so guilty?

He noticed your hesitation and it was like he could see the cogs turning in your head. He didn’t quite understand you yet. What were you experiencing before you met him? What were the effects of your incomplete soulmate bond?

You felt a hand place itself over yours where it rested on the table, your eyes lifting from your half eaten breakfast to meet those sweet eyes.

“You can tell me. I promise I’ll accept whatever you say. I’ll accept you.”

Tears prickled at your waterline but you didn’t let them fall. You felt like if you cried again, you’d never stop.

Taking a deep breath, you admitted, “I was on a date.” When he didn’t say anything, you continued. “My mom would set me up on dates in order to find my soulmate. I was on one with this guy and he left me at the restaurant. I was about to go home but something told me to start walking.”

He listened intently, a little burst of anger firing in his heart at whatever asshole left you by yourself like that. He couldn’t help but feel a little relieved, however. Because if they didn’t leave you, he probably wouldn’t have found you.

“I see. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“I’m not.” You quickly responded, moving your hand so your fingers could entwine with his. A look of surprise crossed his face, his gaze going to your linked hands. His own heart thudded wildly like a stampede.

Then you smiled and what an absolutely wonderful smile it was.

“Then I’m not either.”

You two tucked back into your food in silence, hands still locked on the table.

“I have a question too.”

“Yeah?”

“Why were you out in the rain?”

He made a noise, shrugging his shoulder and finishing off the last of his breakfast. “I couldn’t sleep so I took a walk. It started raining on my way back home. There was a convenience store on my way so I got an umbrella there.” He explained as if it was so simple but something told you it wasn’t.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?”

What a good question.

“Whenever I try to sleep, I get this overwhelming feeling that keeps me up. It’s like…..I’m always uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?” You parroted.

He hummed. “Like whenever I try to sleep, I can’t. It feels like….something was missing.”

“Like what?”

He pondered in thought for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain it to you. He’s been asked that question before and he could never quite answer. To him, showing emotion came so easily. He could empathize with most; he cried when others did, he rejoiced when he was happy, he got angry when something didn’t go his way. All of it came naturally to him.

But when it was time to shut those feelings down and rest, he couldn’t. He took walks often as a way to both clear his head and try to tire himself out. He slept sometimes but never more than a couple of hours, those feelings always startling him awake again. He slept but he didn’t rest.

Something was keeping him awake. Something was missing. Something that he didn’t have.

His eyes left his empty plate to finally lock on the beauty of you. With you, all of those conflicting feelings calmed down. They settled in his heart, that heavy weight that once constricted him now lifted. Like when you curled up next to a window, a book in your lap and a blanket over your shoulders as a gentle rain fell.

“Peace.”

A soft smile stretched across his face, his eyes holding so many feelings that he’s always been able to express but never truly able to receive. Looking at you now, he knew he could have it all now.

He could have peace. The reason he couldn’t sleep was because there were too many emotions storming around him, leaving him lost in the torrent of his own life. He had friends who loved him, family who supported him, and bonds that could never be broken but even with all of that, he still lacked one thing.

One person.

You.

He rounded his small kitchen island until he was standing next to you, his hand that wasn’t holding yours moving to cup the back of your neck. He leaned down just a little. Your lips were so close, a few centimeters closer and they’d touch. A frenzy of everything was happening in both of your bodies; anticipation, fear, passion, and more things neither of you could make.

His eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes, back and forth.

“I’m so glad I found you.” He whispered.

“I’m glad you found me too.”

And just like that, your lips joined. As did your hearts, as did your souls, as did your beings.

Complete.

Like the sun shining through the clouds after a rainy day and the rain returning to cover the sun, you two fit together in a delicate cycle.

One that could never be broken.

The sun. The rain. The earth. The sky. The moon. Red. Purple. Orange. Green.

Blissful. Confusing. Playful.

The colors that made up your world were bright now.

All thanks to your sun ☀️

[sesskagarchive]

From the Archives: September 2024

banner by @jafndaegur

MissTeak

Dokuga | FFnet

Recommended by KillingPerfection143 & @kaoruhana08

"She has some really cool, funny, romantic SessKag fanfics and some others but I only read SessKag so.. and she apparently last uploaded something in 2010 or so. She has a well deserved right to be in this list. Her work needs to reach more people even though she's not active." - KillingPerfection143

"MissTeak was a huge contributor to the fandom in the late 2000's, early 2010's. She's actually the one who got me into SessKag. Her effortless way of creating so many scenarios for the pair left me breathless and I will always feel my heart ache for our favorite pair when I read Wisteria or Once Upon A Time in Edo." - @kaoruhana08

Recommended reading:

Happiest Christmas Rated T. From 2009. One Shot. Summary: Last Christmas, Sesshoumaru had been around to hold her hand. No matter how cold it got, he had the magical ability to warm her up from head to toe. They would stroll along the streets illuminated by merry Christmas lights that shone like a thousand amber gem stones. Today, she was walking alone, and had no idea how long she could take it. But Christmas never came without magic, or love, for that matter…

Happy Father's Day, Inupapa! Rated K. From 2009. One Shot. Summary: [Response to InuYoukaiLiz' Father's Day challenge] As they all say, Kagome is the only one who can make Sesshoumaru do anything and get away with it. This Father's day, just for Inupapa, her grand plan involves baking a chocolate fudge cake, a thank you speech and a hug…(Warning: Hilarity ahead at Sesshoumaru's expense.)

Happily Ever After Rated MA. From 2010-2011. Incomplete. Chapter fic. Summary: (1st place for Best Romance, Best Drama and Best AU/AR, Dokuga Awards 2nd Quarter 2010) Struggling to maintain her old family shrine, Higurashi Kagome could not be more thankful for the miracle that came in the form of a letter telling her that the Higurashi family owned forty percent of a traditional Japanese inn in Tsumago, Nagano prefecture. However, in exchange for the profits made by Shiraito inn, Kagome would have to marry the devastatingly handsome yet arrogant owner and serve as the inn's okami. Happily ever after? No way!

KH: "the only SessKag work that I would give arms and legs for her to finish. If you don't know me as an author, here's a secret: I never would have become half the writer I was without this story. The setting, the characters, the slow burn, the plot: even years later I see the influence of this strangers getting married trope in my writing. This is hands down, in my opinion" the best arranged marriage SessKag AU ever."

I knew you'd marry me Rated K. From 2010. One Shot. Summary: \"Higurashi Kagome!\" He had called out in his childish voice. \"You will marry me.\" Kagome takes a trip back on memory lane on her wedding day, recalling how her husband Sesshoumaru first proposed to her at the age of six, armed with nothing but a bunch of wilted daisies and a plastic pink ring from Toys R Us.

Jealous of you Rated K+. From 2009. One Shot. Summary: "Dearest Sesshoumaru, I've created a list of five reasons as to why I am jealous of you. 1) 'You have prettier hair'…" Kagome is jealous of her lovely husband, and the list goes on in this sweet little oneshot. Done for fun, joy and laughter! Please drown in the fluff!

Just turn around…and fall in love Rated T. From 2010. One Shot. Summary: Would you believe that love was just a turn away? A chance meeting at a high school carnival left them in each other's minds, but Fate had decided to play a little game with them in the modern city of Tokyo. She had always been around him, as he had always been around her, yet they have never met for a second time. Neither knew that all they had to do was turn around, and fall in love. (inspired by r0o's lovely fanart 'Separate Ways')

KH: "I love this oneshot of missed meetings. And I think this story over all others influenced my take on how to write SessKag as it shows a lovely modern take on SessKag."

Kinky Ramen Rated MA. From 2009. One Shot. Summary: 2nd place for Best Oneshot - Dokuga 4th Quarter Awards '09 (Response to Kirai's Funny Edible one shot challenge - rated for hot, hot sexual content and hilarity) All Kagome wanted to was to have sex in peace with her husband, but what was a couple to do when their little daughter was around? "Rin, Daddy and Mommy are going to eat ramen in our room now. Don't come upstairs."

Once upon an Edo night + The Sequel Rated MA. From 2009. Complete. Chapter fic. Summary: On a moonlit summer night in Edo, 1639, a famous courtesan from the Yoshiwara pleasure quarters met a demon lord in a bizarre chance meeting moments before she took her own life by jumping off the Nihonbashi. In modern Tokyo, 2009, Higurashi Kagome and Takahashi Sesshoumaru were strolling along the Nihonbashi when their entwined fates from 370 years ago, once upon an Edo night, came back in a crease in time to revisit them.

KH: "This is truly a second chances tale. The historical portion from Edo is full of angst and heartbreak and your heart aches for Kagome despite the smut. The modern portion makes you want to cheer on their reunion. Thevhistorical details are also very good."

Rumor has it Rated MA. From 2009-2010. Complete. Chapter fic. Summary: “I swear, Sesshoumaru is gay.” Inuyasha said dramatically amidst murmurs of agreement. “Totally! He never really talks to or looks at other women.” Kagome agreed excitedly. Inuyasha had replied, “But we have no proof.” And that’s how one conversation led to Higurashi Kagome being caught in a dare – to prove on Christmas that Taisho Sesshoumaru is gay. MissTeak\\'s three-chapter response to Kirai\\'s Christmas challenge!

KH: "is a hilarious take on Kagome making assumptions about Seshomaru and learning just how very wrong she is."

The Adventures of Chibimaru and Gang Rated K. From 2010-2013. incomplete. Drabble fic. Summary: The title says it all! A collection of MissTeak's attempts at cute, funny stories revolving around a six year-old Chibimaru and Gang in their daily lives. If you've enjoyed 'I knew you'd marry me', this is the one for you!

KH: "I think I go back to read this once a year because it leaves me in stitches. Trust me, we'll all want to know more about the little chaotic terror that is Sesshomaru after reading this."

The Third Parties Rated M. From 2009-2010. Complete. Chapter fic. Summary: [COMPLETED] "If I keep reminding myself of how wrong my feelings for her are, I might finally do something right." She was the third party in his half-brother's three-year relationship. He was merely a good friend. Watching her get hurt over and over again, Taisho Sesshoumaru wanted to tell Higurashi Kagome to let go. Yet he could not, not when he knows he could never let go of her just like how she could never let go of Inuyasha.

KH: "I love this one because I love the character growth we see for both characters as the story progresses, but mostly love how Kagome's is portrayed."

Wisteria Rated MA. From 2009-2010. Incomplete. Chapter fic. Summary: [1st for Best Drama and Best Romance - Dokuga Awards 1st Quarter '10] Wisteria is like the sleeve of a maiden, lovelier when it is cared for… Kagome was abducted and brought to Western Gion, where the famous flower streets are. By virtue of her pretty face, she was adopted into a geisha house and trained in the ways of a geisha under the name of Fuji, the Wisteria. Escape was not a option in this beautiful illusion, and Kagome found herself increasingly detached from her old life…until fate throws a figure of her past in her path again…

KH: "a must read for the heavy angst. It's never been completed but it pulls at your heartstrings and doesn't let you go."

XXX-ing in Bed Rated M. From 2009. One Shot. Summary: [Oneshot] A sweet, sexy oneshot exploring our favorite couple's life after marriage! Ever imagined how their married life is like? Especially in bed? What do they exactly do in bed in the privacy of their home?

Recommend a creator who's no longer active in the SessKag fandom for this monthly spotlight HERE!

[twistedminutia]

A Million and One Minutia: Nuclear Weaponry

Read the previous chapters here: Ch. 1

Gray teaches the Heartslabyul upperclassmen about nuclear power and weaponry.

The school library is where I spend a majority of my time, much to Grim’s protests. I’m not exactly sure what irritates him so much about it- maybe it’s just the principle of the thing, because he naps most of the time anyway, and it’s more comfortable than Ramshackle. Fall has set in pretty firmly, and the dorm’s walls do not keep out the chill. The library is warm, comfy, and I don’t have to worry about a leaking ceiling if it rains.

It’s also the only place on campus I can get internet access from. I don’t have money for a phone, and even if I got one for free, I can’t pay for an internet plan. Crowley hems and haws whenever the subject comes up, so I’m not holding out hope. So. Library computers it is.

Naturally, the internet itself is recognizable, but weird. Like most things here. The search engines are different, but have a similar format to what I’m used to. The websites are different, but they’re clear analogues of websites back home. It’s at least intuitive to navigate, if a little strange.

Research provides me with some details, but the more I look at, the more incomplete it feels. I can’t explain it quite right, but it feels a little like trying to read a detailed fanfic for a series of movies you haven’t seen. I can intuit a lot of it, but then a website will casually mention something I don’t know about at all and I’m completely lost again.

I’m in the middle of trying to figure out if hippogriffs are real actual animals here or just some sort of cryptid when I hear footsteps nearby. I glance up at the right moment to make eye contact with Cater, who waves enthusiastically. Trey follows his gaze and gives me a wave of his own. They pause near me, and I nod at Riddle, who’s the last member in their little group. He nods back.

“How’s it going?” Trey asks. “Ramshackle’s all right? You’re getting enough to eat and sleep?”

Ever since Trey learned that I am not of this world, he’s been subtly momming me. It’s nothing too bothersome- just frequent questions about how I’m doing, if I need anything, if I’m taking care of myself all right. Usually it’s no big deal, though I did get an impressive lecture once when I’d been in such a hurry that I hadn’t brushed my teeth when leaving Ramshackle in the morning. Apparently, anyone in a leadership position at Heartslabyul has formidable scolding abilities.

Still, it’s not like I don’t appreciate the gesture. Not least of all because Trey has been slipping me baked goods. Keeping them away from Grim so that I can get even one bite has become a full-time job.

“Everything’s fine,” I say. “Are you here to get some studying done?”

“More or less,” Trey says. “Riddle and I are trying to get a study guide set up for the exams coming up, so the freshmen will have something to follow during the study groups.”

“I’m just here to snap some Magicam pics,” Cater says, holding his phone up to get a shot of himself against one of the bookshelves. “Dark academia is super trendy right now.”

“You’re going to study for exams and set up a guide to help other people study?” I ask, ignoring Cater to level a skeptical look at Riddle and Trey. “Don’t you ever give yourselves time to rest?”

“Of course. A certain amount of rest ensures that the brain is functioning at peak level,” Riddle huffs. “I have a half an hour of leisure before bed every night. And helping other people study is shown to be one of the most effective forms of learning and retaining information.” He draws himself up, heels clicking together. “I’m going to get the class textbooks for the basic freshmen courses.”

He heads off down the rows of bookshelves, heels clacking against the ground. I share a look with Trey. “He is actually doing okay, right?” I ask.

“I’ve been making sure he doesn’t push himself too hard,” Trey says. “Cater’s been helping keep things in order too.”             “Gotta keep the housewarden happy,” Cater agrees, thumbing through the photos he’s taken. I take the opportunity to sneak a glance at Trey’s bag. It’s gotten to the point where my mouth starts watering when Trey shows up. He’s completely Pavloved me. Assuming that Pavlov is still a thing in this universe. Probably not. I wonder what classical conditioning is called here. Probably just ‘classical conditioning.’

Trey catches me staring and shakes his head. “I gave you a dozen cookies three days ago.”

“Yeah, and I live with a furry black hole,” I say, jerking a thumb toward Grim. He rolls onto his belly, mumbling something indistinct.

Trey laughs. “Well, I don’t have any food on me.”

“Even if you did, you probably shouldn’t have it out here,” Cater says, glancing deeper into the library. “Riddle’s going to be back at any moment.”

Good point. Biggest, most well-known rule ever: don’t bring food into a library. “Oh, right,” I say. “I guess Riddle would go nuclear if he saw someone eating in here.”

I thought it was a fairly reasonable thing to say, but apparently not, because both Cater and Trey swivel toward me with identical looks of bewilderment. “What?” Cater says.

Oops. Maybe making fun of the housewarden is only for the people actually under his rule. Deuce and Ace never had a problem with it- though their relationship with Riddle is often contentious and they’re perhaps not the best examples to look toward for the appropriate treatment of housewardens. I shrink down in my seat. “Uh- Y’know, was just saying that he’d be pissed if we broke a rule- I didn’t mean anything by it, really- I guess I’ve just been around Ace and Deuce and they complain about him all the time so I thought-” You’re throwing your friends under the bus, stop talking! “It wasn’t an insult toward him or anything-”

Cater waves a hand. “No, I mean, what does ‘going nuclear’ mean?”

I pause, giving time for my scrambled brain to slip back on the tracks. “Wh- going nuclear?” I glance at Trey, but he’s clearly just as mystified as Cater. “You know. Blowing your top. Going ballistic. Freaking out. He would have gotten really mad.”

“Huh,” Trey says. “I’ve never heard that one before.”             “I guess it’s not a terribly common phrase,” I say.

“Nu-cle-ar,” Cater says, rolling the word around in his mouth. “Huh. Is that another word for angry in your world?”

“No,” I say, a little caught off guard. “You don’t know what nuclear means?”

Trey shakes his head. “I just said I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Yeah, but I thought you just meant in that context, not that you didn’t know what nuclear was.” I look at Cater, but he just shakes his head at me.

“What is it?” Trey asks, settling into a computer seat next to me. Cater perks up and leans in.

“W-well, it’s-” Uh. Crap. I know what nuclear means in a very general sense, but not enough to describe it with any sort of accuracy. My first instinct would be to look it up, but I’m not sure how useful that’s going to be- if Trey and Cater haven’t even heard of it, is it something they’ve even discovered here? “Um. So. I only learned about this briefly once, so this maybe isn’t all that accurate. But I think it’s… some kind of atomic thing? Like, if something happens on an atomic level, then you get a substance that produces radioactivity, which can be really dangerous, and people use it for power and bombs and things…” I pause. Cater and Trey are just staring. “Okay, uh. Do you know what atoms are?”

Trey nods, but Cater just shrugs. “I never paid attention in science class. They’re really small, right?”

“Yeah, they’re the smallest substance. I think, if something happens to the nucleus, then you get radioactivity, which is a kind of dangerous energy that you can use for… some things, I think. X-rays are radioactive, and that’s why you have to use a lead blanket when you have them…” Cater and Trey are still staring at me like I’m speaking gibberish. In fairness, I barely understand what I’m saying. “I didn’t really pay attention in science class either, okay? I’m not very good at explaining this stuff.”             There’s the ‘click click’ of approaching heeled footsteps and Trey looks around me. “Hey, Riddle, do you know what nuclear means?”

I spin around in time to see Riddle placing a stack of books on the table next to him. He’s using magic to carry it, presumably because the stack is almost as tall as he is. It makes quite an impressive thump. “Yes. I’ve done some reading on nuclear physics, so I’m familiar with it, though I’ll admit it’s not a subject I’m all that interested in. Why?”

It figures that Riddle would casually bring up reading about nuclear physics. I bet he was reading science textbooks for fun at age six. “We were just talking about it,” I say. “I mentioned it and Cater and Trey didn’t know what it meant.”

“I’m not surprised,” Riddle says. He goes up on his tiptoes to reach some of the books at the top of the stack. His fingertips don’t quite touch the cover of the topmost book. “It’s- ugh- not a subject most people bother with.” He makes one final grab at the book, then gives up in the most dignified, I-meant-to-do-that way, and just magics it down. “I’m surprised you know about it, considering…” Riddle trails off, apparently realizing there’s no way out of that sentence that isn’t an insult. He clears his throat awkwardly. “Just. Considering.”

“Everyone knows about nuclear power where I come from. I mean, not everyone. But most people. There’s a big debate over whether or not we should use it for power right now, which freaks some people out, but-” I stop. Riddle is giving me the sort of horrified look usually reserved for when a person has a cockroach the size of a hot dog crawling up their back. “What?”

“You’re trying to use it for power generation?” he says, aghast. “Why? Nuclear materials are highly unstable and dangerous! It’s a fascinating hypothetical subject, but no one’s willing to put money into such a volatile substance, and certainly no one would agree to use it over magic-generated power.”

“Well, my world didn’t have magic,” I say a little sulkily. “We kind of had to make do.” Riddle frowns, looking vaguely disturbed. “It being dangerous is why there’s such a big debate over using it- no one wants to use a substance that could poison you near their homes, but it produces a lot of energy and it’s less harmful in the long term than things like oil. And people are careful with it. It’s not the same as getting power from a nuclear bomb or something.”             Riddle’s expression sours further. “A nuclear… bomb?”

“A bomb that utilizes the energy of a split atom or something. It’s supposed to be insanely powerful, and even if you don’t get blown up by it, it irradiates the surrounding area, and then that radiation makes people sick, so it’s a pretty effective weapon.” I grope for an appropriate metaphor. “It’s… um, it’s powerful enough that if you dropped one on NRC, the RSA would get hit by the shockwave. And it would probably give any survivors radiation sickness.”

“Woah,” Cater says. “Why would you make something like that?”

I shrug. “There wasn’t that good of a reason- it was made in a war that a lot of people were trying to win and it sort of… happened because people wanted a weapon that would end the war. But then people started making more of them, because everyone was scared of having it used on them, so they needed one of their own to protect themselves, and then everyone ended up with so many of them that they were an apocalyptic threat so no one could fire them. It all just sort of snowballed.”

“Huh,” Trey says. “That actually reminds me of the end of the war between the faeries and the humans.”

“Really?” Cater says. Trey swats him gently with a scrap piece of paper.

“Trein was just talking about it in class last week. Toward the end of the war, humans and faeries were using such destructive magic against each other that battlefields were tainted with blot and destroyed. The battles were almost always stalemates, and no one was winning anything. It’s one of the main reasons the peace negotiations started to gain some traction.”

Riddle nods. “There were other political reasons, of course, but that was where the biggest push for peace started. The first major act of human and faerie cooperation was restoring areas of land that were damaged by blot and magic.”

“Did it work?” I ask.

“For the most part- I think the Jupiter Corporation assisted heavily with the cleanup, and there are still a few areas that need restoration. But it’s largely healed now,” Riddle says.

“Then you’re doing better than we are,” I say ruefully. “You can’t really clean up radiation that way. Once it’s there, it’s there. The only thing you can do is wait until it fades naturally.”

“What does radiation do?” Cater asks. “Is it like blot?”

“It makes you sick, I think. There’s radiation in a lot of things, like sunlight- I think that’s why it can give you sunburns. But the kind of radiation the bombs used would make you sick. Deadly sick. That was one of the big concerns with them- even if people don’t die in the initial blast, the radiation would kill them off.” That and the nuclear winter, but I don’t mention that bit. All three of them look vaguely unsettled anyway.

“But that never happened,” Trey says, a little like he’s trying to reassure himself as well.

“No. And they decommissioned enough bombs that even if we had a war now, it probably wouldn’t kill everyone.” I consider. “Maybe. There’d probably be pockets of people who would survive. Civilization would definitely collapse, though. And radiation takes thousands of years to go away, so there’d be big parts of the world that would just be uninhabitable.” The three Heartslabyul boys exchange uncomfortable looks. “But it’s fine now. Mostly.”

“It’s impressive,” Riddle says after a moment, “what your world has managed to achieve without magic. I never would have thought that a place like that could become just as advanced as our world.”

“Thanks,” I say, uncertain what else to respond with. It’s not like I personally did any of the advancement he’s talking about. “Just being in a world where magic exists is pretty incredible to me. Thought it’s a lot to learn, since I’m not familiar with the history or how magic works or any of that…”

Something in Riddle’s eyes sparks and I trail off, trying to figure out exactly what I said. “Then you will join us for our study session. With midterms coming up, there isn’t a moment to waste, and having a remedial student will help Trey and I practice teaching the rest of the fist years.”

“Remedial student?” I sputter, indignant. I’m doing pretty well, considering I’m having to relearn everything from scratch in a high school setting. Then I realize that Riddle has just sentenced me to a study session from hell. “Uh, actually, I need to-” My gaze falls on the snoozing cat-beast next to me. “Grim and I should be getting back to Ramshackle before it’s too late, you know, we have to make dinner and there’s cleaning to do and-”

“Nonsense,” Riddle says, waving me off. “Trey has already made a nutritious meal back at the dorm, and I’m certain there’s enough for you to take part.”

I shoot Trey a pleading look, but he just nods. “There’s enough.” I glare at him. He shrugs back.

“And the cleaning can wait until midterms are over. There’s nothing more pressing than your studies.” Riddle waves his pen and the pile of books next to him starts hovering again. “We’ll head to the dorm once I check these out.” He pauses, then hands me a book on the top of the pile. “You can start with this basic overview of magical energy and its formation in nature.” He heads off to the front desk without waiting for my agreement, the book tower floating along next to him.

“Thanks for the help,” I mutter to Trey and Cater.

“It’s not that bad,” Trey says. “Riddle’s a good teacher. And even if you don’t need the help, it’ll be good for Grim. He could use the review- Ace says he barely stays awake during Trein’s lectures.”

True enough. Though it’s irritating that I have to be roped into it as well. “Fine, fine. C’mon, Grim.” I poke him. “We’re studying.”

“Myahhh,” he mumbles, shoving his face into his paws. “Five more minutes.”

I roll my eyes. “We’re going to Heartslabyul for dinner. Trey made it.”

He shoots to his paws. “Why didn’t you say so? Let’s go!” He hops down from the desk and starts booking it toward the entrance of the library. I pick up the book Riddle gave me and join Trey and Cater in heading toward Riddle. Hopefully by the time Grim realizes we’re actually attending a study session, he’ll be too full and scared of getting collared again that he won’t make a fuss. Maybe. It’s a bit of a long shot. Whatever. Trey will probably give us dessert, and that’s enough of a win to make the whole evening worth it.

Read the next chapter here: Ch. 3

[fallenwhumpee]

.

Ahem. Vent post so feel free to just skip. I'll probably delete this out of shame anyway.

It's been a while since I posted. Even longer since I posted two things without a month in-between. I want to write but what I write doesn't feel like what I wrote before. Too short, too vague, lacking depth and sincerety.

I apologise for the half-baked things until now and from now on. I do plan to write every day of the event because it gives me the push to write and maybe I'm too stubborn to back down.

And I really think taking a break from posting doesn't help me at all. Like. I just stared at what i wrote for a good thirty minutes and hesitated posting. It beats the whole purpose of having this blog. I don't want to hide what I wrote, no matter how good or bad it is.

This blog was a result of sudden courage. I don't want it to stay that way, I mean, people here are awesome, I never once had a bad comment, yet it stresses me to make posts. It shouldn't be that way. So, after this point, there will probably be writings posted in spite of that feeling. Maybe rushed, maybe incomplete, but I'm willing to try if it means I don't have to schedule fics so I don't feel nervous at clicking the post button.

[raelynn0606]

JJK ending sucks but what's new

The only ppl who will see this have already heard me complain but I'm gonna do it AGAIN 😈

jjk has always kinda been a mid shonen type thing but I usually like them so I wanted to watch it. I watched the first season when it released and it good but it wasn't good enough to get me reading the manga.

Then s2 came out and I kind of absorbed a lot of content through social media osmosis and it seemed pretty interesting. I only ended up watching it cuz one of my new friends watched it and another one also wanted to watch it so we watched it together in school while the teachers would side eye us 😓

I actually kind of liked it. I genuinely love a lot of the characters, like I think they're interesting in a ton of ways but sadly most of it never got explored. Most of the charas didn't get actual arcs and for the ones that did, it never felt finished or it would just feel so half baked. The plot has an endless amount of loose threads it's not even funny.

More than the actual media itself I enjoyed the process of consuming it. I loved searching up the leaks every Thursday with my friend and the fandom was funny asf too.

The fights were great too, and that's probably the only reason I found s2 to be so entertaining. But I feel like most of that credit goes to the animators and shit instead of Gege himself.

As much as I hate on the aot ending, this ending is WAYY worse. If you ignore the aot ending, the rest of the show can definitely stand on its own. The ending might even be good if you view it through a different perspective.

But jjk doesn't have that. The ending itself isn't bad. It's just that the series feels so incomplete which is what makes it so shit. I haven't seen a single person say it's good so far which rlly says smth. Can't wait for some fans to come along and be like "erm u just didn't understand the story ☝️🤓"

I don't even wanna get into all the details on why the series sucks cuz there's way too many I can list. But the main reason I hate the ending is cuz the series had SO MUCH POTENTIAL.

The characters and themes and plot were pretty good, they just needed to be explored more and it never happened and it sucks so much cuz it could've been so great and actually have smth to say.

Maybe I expected too much from a series called Sorcery Fight because there were indeed sorcerers fighting and that's pretty much it.

I might be wrong for criticizing it so much considering I haven't even read most of the manga. I just started skimming leaks every week after Gojo died like most ppl did and skipped over the previous arcs (although I did look at summaries) so maybe it'll be different if I actually read all of it at once but I doubt it. Maybe the pacing would be slightly better but that's it.

I just get mad whenever I think of what could've been. I genuinely hope someone rewrites it and does it justice even tho I'll prolly never read it.

It's just another case of "this piece of media would've been so good if it was actually good."

[cobaltsunrise]

Hey! 👋🏻 I just Devoured your "the taste of hunger" series and it intrigued me so much?Specially as a writer myself! See, I started reading it by gluttony's jaws and, without even knowing, I was reading it in the way that had the whole scope of the serie's timeline, but I digress. It was interesting as ever, seeing Jimin struggling and slowly coming to terms with her attraction to Minjeong, then, from ch 2 to 3, they had already had sex so I was like woah ! what happened here (because I have a bad habit of skipping the notes) so then! I went back to read the notes and saw that the scene was posted under another work which, at the time, I found weird because why post the scene in a separate work? I read it anyways and loved it, not realizing that that work was the prequel??? and that there was Another one before that? I mean, I read the third chapter and was famished for another last night, so when I saw you had posted chapter 4 just now I was stoked and went to devour it, only to find the previously mentioned prequel's prequel mentioned at the end of the chapter! And that's when it all clicked. You had written those scenes before even flashing the whole story out to the public and still, none of it feels half baked or incomplete by the time I read it all. It all fit perfectly and, honestly, it moved me a lot. Not only by the warmth I found in tender autophagy's second chapter and to finally have some sweet relief over the matters of their relationship, but also by the way you yourself constructed the narrative! See, I have an extreme obsession with planning my stories out and ironing out all of the kinks before porperly writing the chapters and posting it, which most of the time makes me burned out before even posting anything so, when I saw the way you approached that series I was and still am thoroughly impressed. So, (sorry for all the rambling omg) I just wanted to ask, was that the intention all along? As in, you had already planned the story out before posting it in different parts of the timeline, or was it something that just happened organically? As in you had a rough idea of what would happen, or even had the characters figured out and started to work a story around them and their relationship? SORRY im just a huge writing nerd sorry for geeking out on you SORRY im sorry

Oh my god, no need to apologize!! I’m a writing nerd too, and nothing makes me happier than getting to yap about my writing process, especially when someone actually asks about it haha. I was so happy to read this, and it’s funny because it never even crossed my mind that someone might be super confused by my weird ass timeline, since it’s all so clear in my head 😂 Sorry.

Well, buckle up for the monologue…

The way The Taste of Hunger saga came together was honestly bizarre. And yeah, completely organic. Probably too organic lmao. To start with, the entire idea for chapter one of Tender Autophagy was just me wanting to try writing an 18+ scene for the first time. So, really, it was just an experiment to see how it would turn out, but then it got way too emotional, and suddenly it hit me — wait, isn’t Karina Catholic? What if I add a bit of conflict around that? So, I threw in that subtle mention of the rosary ring and left it at that.

I posted it, was surprised by the warm response, and saw people asking for a part two with a happy ending. I thought, okay, why not, could be fun. I wrote their confrontation in the apartment, the fluffy resolution, and that was it: Tender Autophagy complete.

But then… There were comments asking for even more. I was excited that people liked it, but I really didn’t want to stretch the story out unnecessarily. Then another idea hit me: what if I wrote about the first time they ever hooked up? Give more context on Aeri and Yizhuo, explore their majors in college, delve a bit deeper into Jimin’s guilt. So, I went ahead and wrote Echoes of Appetite and felt satisfied. Thought that was the end of it.

And then came Gluttony’s Jaws. The idea actually came from someone saying they enjoyed the Catholic guilt theme and would love to see more of it in my stories. So, I started brainstorming a completely new fic that would explore sexuality and homophobia in depth (because I think those themes make for fantastic reads), but then it hit me: I already had everything I needed right in front of me!! I just had to write The Taste of Hunger all from Jimin’s pov.

So, I opened my laptop and wrote 6,000 words just on Jimin growing up — from ages 12 to 23, one scene per age — telling about all her fears and insecurities and inner conflict. That part I mentioned about Kim Chaewon in high school during the quiz was because I actually wrote a bunch of homoerotic friendship scenes between them lmao. But I thought the whole thing was terrible and unrealistic in progression, so I scrapped all of it (tho I salvaged some nice descriptions).

So, I just skipped straight to the first time mj and jm met to make my life easier. But I’m gonna be honest, it was such a pain in the ass. Because no, I hadn’t planned on doing this, so I was stuck with the timeline I had already set up from mj’s POV. The mental gymnastics I had to do just to write a Jimin who would realistically work up the courage to ask mj to experiment with her were insane lmaooo. It was so frustrating, I had so many restrictions. Mj couldn’t have met Yizhuo yet, jm had to have watched lesbian porn before ever talking to mj, mj could only go to jm’s apartment drunk, jm had to be all over mj like Aeri mentioned in the supermarket scene — which made no goddamn sense in the narrative, so I made up that it was her coping mechanism to “get over her crush” hahaha. 

I’m just relieved that you think everything fits together because, for me, it felt like trying to put together a puzzle with misshapen pieces…

Anyway, thank you for geeking out hihihi and it makes me so happy that my writing brought you comfort <33. And I should be the one apologizing for this giant ass answer lmaooo

And omg, I went snooping through your socials (is this considered stalking? Sorry 😭) and wait ARE YOU BRAZILIAN??

[woodchipp]

You know, I found this quote from a movie review section that happens to be a neat summary of my own thoughts on OMORI and a good amount of other works.

"Instead of being a story in it's own right, it feels more like an intentionally crafted jump-off point for people to make fanfics, fanart and wiki articles."

Yeah, I think that's a fitting description. It's like Omocat just threw the unrevised first draft of the story into the game and went "Okay, write it so I don't have to!"

I also remember finding a particular post called "The Fandom Barrier Reef Theory" and it stuck with me because of how true it proved to be

My personal theory is that if Media is REALLY good, there isn’t really… space, if you will for fans to add or change perspectives on it. Too dense, too complete. Like how coral won’t grow on plastic because it’s too smooth Whereas some half-baked hot garbage has got ALL KINDS of plot holes, incomplete characterization, warped timelines, missing worldbuilding and other Spaces for fans to colonize, like coral growing on a sunken battleship. And then if a series just sucks too much, it’s not fun to interact with at all, and people won’t fandomize it because it’s toxic. Like how coral won’t grow on sunken piles of burnt-out tires.

[dreams-and-honor]

This is EXTREMELY half-baked, the outfit is incomplete (I haven't drawn his slutty crop jacket yet and it's missing a lot of details), and I literally traced over my other insert's pose but here's my Cor kisser. It's the best of what I could depict while I'm this sick. ;_;

Cain Crux, Aranea's QPP, who has stuck by her side since they were kids and recent pain in the ass of a certain Crownsguard Marshal.

He's supposed to keep Cor up to date on what information Aranea feels like sharing, whether he wants it or not. And then accidentally seduces him along the way, oops. (They mostly get close during the time skip, before that it's all flirting on his end)

He's not all that bothersome, he's got a pretty laid-back personality, just a tiny bit smug with some low-impact teasing. Everything he does is pretty subdued and low-fuss. Except for the walloping he can deliver with his gunblade.

I'm not gonna tag anyone because i'll update it when I can stay at my PC long enough to draw properly, but feel free to reblog.

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Piece by Piece (Short, incomplete)

TW: DESCRIPTIONS OF TORTURE, INJURIES, SURGICAL TORTURE (kinda??)

(A/N: There's only one collection of scars from Gil'ead that Arya doesn't talk about at all. She hates them. When a piece of shrapnel gets a lucky, or rather unlucky, shot and embeds itself in one of the scars, the elf is damn near to losing her mind and tries to fight anyone who comes near her to remove it before she bolts off and away from camp. Eragon and Saphira find her, and give her time. It's what she says and doesn't say that hurts.)

Saphira crept forward, wings half raised and ready to leap in to rescue her partner if needed. Eragon eased down next to the elf and crossed his legs, not saying anything, just…waiting.

Arya didn’t respond to their arrival. She kept her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, chin braced on her knees as she watched the water rushing by. The sound was calming, the huff of Saphira’s breath on the cattails lending another pleasant note to nature’s discord. 

It helped take some of the edge away, but the knot in her stomach remained, screaming at her to run. Run further, faster, away, away. Leap over boulders, scale trees, throw her body into empty space and hit the ground and keep running.  

She felt sick. Her arms were bruising where she dug her fingers in, fresh blood bubbling up around the shrapnel embedded in the muscle. It hurt. But she couldn’t make herself let go.

Eragon picked up one of the smooth riverstones between his crossed ankles and closed his fingers around it. The setting sun baked the water-tossed cobbles that made up the riverbank, and the heat contained within the rock sank into his palm. His dragon mark warmed, the rough texture contrasted by the worn smooth surface. 

He set it down. Picked up a different one, this one flat. Cocked his wrist and sent it spinning across the water, the twin tails of spray turned blazing gold in the light. 

The three of them sat together in silence until the sun kissed the far bank of the river. Out of the corner of his eye Eragon kept track of his shieldmate’s position, the tension that remained locked in her muscles. Not much had eased, but the blood had dried. The shrapnel still jutted out and trembled with her pulse. Though, that could have been her shaking. 

Finally, Arya lifted her chin. “Do either of you know what…” She had to stop for a moment. She hated the word. It tasted like steel and bile on her tongue. “what vivisection is?”

Eragon shook his head, but to his surprise Saphira reached out. ‘I do.’ The gentle tilt of the elf’s head indicated she should continue, but the tension gathering along her spine and up into her shoulders…

Saphira could smell fear.

Careful, with the clinical tone of an unattached scholar, Saphira recounted the definition she had learned when doing her own foray into the ancestral memories of her kind, the questions Glaedr had answered. ‘It is when a creature is surgically opened and observed or experimented upon while still living.’ Eragon’s confusion drifted to her. ‘It was…a practice of some when encountering young dragons.’ Disgust and acid dripped from her thoughts, unable to hold it back. ‘Some wished to learn how we worked in the days before the bond. Dwarves who grew tired of losing their precious feldûnost and finding no weakness in our scales.’

Arya’s grip on her arms tightened. “They were wrong to do that.” Her gaze dropped from the opposite riverbank to the midpoint of the rushing water, unfocused and hazy. “It’s wrong.”

“It’s horrible.” Eragon agreed. The stones no longer felt warm. It felt like he had swallowed some. 

They lapsed into silence for another handful of moments. Eragon could feel the woman beside him struggling with one of her demons, the slightest twitch of her shoulder at her triumph over the Recall. 

“I…” Her voice broke. “I wish I could heal these.” Her nails dug into the pink lines on her upper arms, stark against the honey of her skin and leaving crescent moons in their wake. “They’re the only ones I want gone.” 

Her face felt wet. She rubbed her cheek on her shoulder, tried to wipe it away. “I don’t feel him with the others, I just feel the wounds, I don’t–” 

Bright lines down her skin, metal catching, the straps creaked against her frantic thrashing. The sickening, burning, lightning and gravel as he pulled the skin away from the facia, peeled it back. 

His fingers between her muscles, the blood on her face as he wrenched her head to the side and locked it there so she had to watch every second of it. 

That hum of delight when he found what he was looking for and picked up the needles. The shattering, explosive, white light and something burning as he dragged his nails along the median nerve. 

The world ending when he slid the needle into the exposed cord and twisted. 

She curled back in on herself. Fucking whimpered. 

The exposed nerves never made her scream. They were the only things that made her cry while there. And he reveled in it.

“I can’t take it out.” The words tumbled from her lips, the shrapnel throbbing in her arm. “I can’t let you, I can’t. Don’t make me, please.” 

Rocks clicked and clacked. From the blurry corner of her eyes where she had buried her face back against her knees Arya saw blue and ivory and suddenly Saphira’s tail was curved up against her side and pulled her in. Pushed her against Eragon and his arms were around her too and they were tucked under the dragon’s arching wing and surrounded by cool blue darkness.

Eragon rested his cheek on the top of the elf’s head. She was shivering, whimpering, still quietly begging him. He rocked her in his arms, held tight.

“You won’t feel a thing.” Eragon murmured into her hair. “I promise. I won’t hurt you. Saphira will hold on to you and won’t let you look.” He nodded when she shook her head. “Arya, we have to. It has to come out. I promise you, I won’t let you feel a thing.” Gentle yet firm, he tilted her face to him in the gloom. “Vel eïnradhin iet ai Shur'tugal. I will not let you feel any of it.” 

The shivering eased. To Eragon’s relief, Arya sniffed once, and then shakily wiped her eyes with her uninjured forearm. 

“...Do it fast.”

[reddogf13]

Pride & Ruin CH 8

on A03 as well

Alcina X Ethan

summery: Determined to find his daughter Ethan Winters, an omega, storms the castle of Alcina Dimitrescu, an alpha. While fleeing her three beta daughters Ethan has the unfortunate luck of being snagged on the alphas claws. Slipping out a yelp, Ethan fears the worst. Instead, luck will be in his favor under a prideful alpha and Miranda’s plans will fall to ruin.

Status: Incomplete

Rated: M - fowl language and gore

Previous chap: Ch:7 Cataclysm

Next chap: Ch:9 Tokens & Memoirs

___________________

~Ch:8 Cascade~

After visiting their mother, the girls joined Daniela in the kitchen. Daniela excitedly brought Ethan a bottle of warm milk. Saying hi to rosemary who smiled and giggled up at her after being awoken for her dinner. Returning soon after to help set up the dining table before calling everyone in to sit. Still tuckered out, Ethan tucked rosemary back into bed. The sleeping quarters were close enough to hear her if she started crying. Bela checked in on Donna's health, then on Ethan's. “your fever hasn't spiked again. Feel hot at all?”

“haven't for a while. I think it's actually gone this time.” sitting next to Donna he looked to the large chair further down. “Is your mother coming?”

“no, she's staying in to not strain herself.”

“how is she?”

“doing fine.” Cassandra answered. “lots of stitching needed to be done. Her face I couldn't do anything about. The skinned half has to grow back on its own. She hopes it won't scar. Her leg had the muscle pierced, that'll need time even after I closed it. She says she's sure her ribs are broken and will take the longest to heal.” digging something out of her pocket to slide across the table. “That's yours.”

“what is it?” squinting at the silver piece.

“a bit of bullet that fell out of her side. Must've gotten stuck between the quick healing.”

he awkwardly looked away. “oh. ...” dipping his head down.

“After resting a few days most things should be healed.” Bela finished.

“ah.”

“You shouldn't have run away earlier. What were you going to do? Try not to get crushed in the fight? You would've been Miranda's prime target and then-”

He let out a whining sign. “Why am I getting scolded again? I said I was sorry.”

“because mother asked me to.” she smirked as she poured him a glass of tart blood orange lemonade. Setting the pitcher in the middle of the table. It was a brilliant orange color mixing with fresh cut slices of both fruits. Sipping on his glass, he watched the pieces settle around the ice in waiting for the food. Stomach growling at the savory smell traveling from the kitchen. Once everyone was served and seated they dug into the meal. Mini open faced pies baked with smoked salmon, cheese and a few other savory things he wasn't used to. Still he liked it and was happy to have it.

“at least it isn't burnt.” Angie mumbled. Receiving an elbow from Donna to be nice. “what? She burns everything, doesn't she?”

Ethan almost choked on a sip of lemonade from holding a chuckle. Hearing the girls talking about their mother. Daniela, overexcited about it, talked fast about the new things they learned about their mother.

“She can't breath fire, but she has a swarm like ours – The second head has some separate thought processing, but no self of its own - It's actually harder to eat with all the jaws and takes some shifting of them to swallow the food back. - She can choose when to change, except when she hasn't had any blood in a while then-” Daniela went on and on.

Ethan listened to a good chunk of it as he ate through his meal. Mind drifting off onto his plans for the future. The girls seemed to have had their own already.

“we're still going to Spain?!” Daniela had to be pushed out of Bela's space.

“Yes, I asked what we were going to do with the property. She said it wouldn't hurt to have a home for the colder months. Expanding the business was a grand idea as well. With Miranda gone we can go wherever we please.”

“when?!”

“maybe close to spring. Depends on her getting better. We'll visit for a little while to set it up as a proper home. Maybe some maintenance as well.”

Ethan took a sip of his drink in drifting off in thought again. Sounds like they got a plan. Maybe I have until spring to move out. Setting the date for himself then have the girls enforce one.

Easier said than done with the days passing by. It all felt incredibly slow and yet distressingly fast. Three days later, Ethan had been scribbling ideas. Only to toss them away in crumpled piles collecting in a milk crate. Ethan looked across the spread papers duke delivered to him earlier that day. Crossing over job offers the entire day for what he discussed. Thankfully farmhands were needed everywhere and provided lodging of some sort. Off to the side was a bottle of fresh suppressants to keep him going for a while. When he finally did choose he wouldn't have to worry when his next dose could be afforded. Scanning across the offerings he felt light headed and sick. Torn on wanting to choose and wanting to stay where he was. We can’t stay, I already said no. I'm just being a mooch now. Raking his hands through his hair he leaned back. Taking in a deep breath to settle his stomach. ... I haven't seen her in a while. Glancing toward the door leading into the main castle halls. Is she doing okay? Must be, the girls aren't too worried. All their chats had been surrounding their eventual trip to Spain.

He rubbed his face in breathing out his stress. Fighting back the exhaustion weighing on him. Sleep of any sort had been fickle for him. Half the nights he’d been up wandering in the hopes that he’d sleep after returning to bed. He would, however, never very deeply. The lack of sleep was starting to affect him in the waking day. He didn't even notice Angie had come up to stand by him.

scanning across all his papers. “How stressful can it be to pick a farm, ain't they all the same?”

“no, most the jobs are seasonal. Sends most of these into the trash.” crumpling another paper to toss. “Maybe I’ll just pick one for now and be a bit of a nomad when the seasons end. Can’t sit around here forever.”

“better stay.” Donna softly whispered.

“huh?”

Angie clarified. “Lady Dimitrescu needs to do a lot of healing and your presence helps that along. Better you stick around.”

“you sure that’s a good idea? I feel like I shouldn't be here after the refusal.”

“you’ll be fine, like she’d kick you out, and it's better for her.”

“mm.”

“you’ll be closer to the duke for any documents you need. Rose will need a lot of them if you plan to travel. What if you need to cross some borders?”

“That's true.” glancing over his awkward pile of papers. “but…”

“but what?”

“my healing presence isn't worth much. I’m just taking up space here.”

“You take up the same space as a broom closet. If you're so worried about sitting around, go talk to lady.”

“and say what?”

“ask for chores. Maybe get some courage and ask for a job. She's had like twelve positions open since the- uh- staff firings, and no one else is lined up.”

“hmm. Not a bad idea.” do something, maybe earn my own money for the move. Shuffling papers back into a stack he shoved them into a drawer.

Bela peaked her head in. “dinners ready. We’re having venison and mashed potatoes.” swarming away back to the dining room.

“food!” the doll excitedly screamed. Running ahead of everyone else.

“You don't even eat.” Ethan called after her. Taking rose with him to sit at the table before his hot meal. To the side a small plate of mashed potatoes and a bottle for Rose.

“Rose does and it's fun making potato castles with her.”

“Yeah, and you don't have to clean her up.”

“exactly!”

He rolled his eyes. Pulling the small plate away for Rose to eat a couple spoonfuls without Angie sticking her hands all over it. Looking to the large seat left empty for the 4th night in a row. He worried again how well Alcina was doing having not seen her since the fight. I can try seeing her tomorrow for that talk. wincing when a splat of mash hit his face. Rose had gotten started on her potato mountain without help from Angie. He chuckled while taking up a napkin to clean himself off. Chatter filled the dining room over the course of their meal. Half of Ethan's plate was gone while the rest was picked at. Another trip up he’d been facing the past few days. Coaxed a few times by Bela to eat more from his plate until that no longer worked on him. Simmering down, Ethan helped clean the dishes despite Bela telling him it wasn't needed. Partly he hoped it would tire him out in preparation for bed.

Castle, calm in darkness from the normal daylight hustle. Became the perfect time for one's thoughts to run through the quiet night. A black nail tapped a shattered piece of mirror. The desk covered in similar pieces littered down to the floor. Alcina stared into the half remaining of the destroyed mirror. The glow of her eyes caught in the reflection of the cracked glass. Looking back at her miserable self sitting alone in the dark. Why am I not enough? Looking over her knuckles. Still too slow. Continuing to bleed from punching the vanity mirror. Was it worth it?… Well, Heisenberg is gone. Softly smiling about it. Her lovely landscape view was always tainted by the black smoke of Karl's running factory, but now no longer. No more meetings with him, or anyone. No one can call me useless, worthless, a disappointment. These are my lands now and I doubt Donna will challenge me for the title. She sighed at the dreadful feeling sinking in again. Ethan was still here, she wanted him to leave already. But wasn't about to chase him out. Why bother? to make the position available? Could I find another omega out there? Should I take the time to travel? She shut her eyes until a plik noise had her look down. Growling at her side, pooling blood that dripped down to the floor. Great, hate getting blood on the carpet. She stood from her small stool, wincing at a stabbing pain from her ribs. Limping out into the darkened hall down to the large cleaning closet. Grabbing a handful of gauze rolls to return with.

Ethan hadn't been wandering the dark castle for too long. He tossed and turned in his bed for hours. Tired of that he left the room to wander the castle. Having no goal of where to go, but hoping his buzzing thoughts would be silenced. Questioning whether it was anxiety or for other reasons. Her scent was gone from the common areas. He missed the talks, her gentle care to calm his nerves. He felt alone, even with the girls still happy to hang around. He avoided the alpha for as long as he could and now all he wanted was to see her.

He stopped at a crossing hall, having heard unsteady steps. Overly quiet, he knew whose they were right away. Shrinking slightly against the nearby wall when she came into view. It was the first time he'd ever seen her in a more relaxed presentation. A short sleeved buttoned up nightshirt of varying grays that draped to her hips. Matching baggy pants went down to cover a pair of simple black slip-on shoes. Her hair flowed down loosely into wavy curls ending at her shoulders. Her beauty captivated him, as much as it did when he first saw her. Despite keeping quiet her eyes flicked onto him. A golden glow from them catching the minimal light.

Spotting him immediately, she stopped to ask. “Why are you up?”

He swallowed before answering. “couldn't sleep… why are you?” trying not to over step in asking. He cast his eyes down from hers. He didn't know how she'd still be taking the rejection.

“Bandages... Do you need anything?”

“No, I'm fine.” Ethan studied her hands without their usual gloves for cover. He saw the start of her sharp black nails along with the oddity of her finger tips being black as if frostbitten. Maybe it's just an illusion from the shadows. Concerned about the fresh blood on her knuckles, but he didn't ask about it. carefully glancing over he did spot another concerning issue. The edge of a large bloody patch at her side. From his angle he couldn't tell exactly how big. A plip noise hit the cool marble floor, now marked by a drop of blood. Following where she came from he could see a small trail highlighted by the moonlit windows.

She glanced back just as he did. Scowling at the mess she was trailing. “You should go to bed.” limping past the crossing halls to leave Ethan alone.

Leaving the way she was had Ethan's anxiety spike. She can't be left like that. “Can I help?” he offered before she got too far.

She stopped to look back. “If you wish.” giving him the grace of catching up to her side before continuing.

The quiet of their walk only broken by the sound of their steps. Along the way he watched the steady drip of blood turn thick in a steady trail. Slowing behind to catch up to her other side. Getting a good look at the wound staining from her ribs to pool at her hip. Blood collecting at her nightshirts edge to flow off. This needs more than a change. Glancing repeatedly at the growing stain he debated on asking about it. Trying not to stare at the bloody bandage siding the left half of her face. Alphas didn't like weaknesses to be pointed out. Watching her step through the darkened doorway of her room, he stood back at its edge. Instincts warning him that he was about to jump into an abyss where something dangerous lived. An alphas den could turn into an imprisoning nightmare for an omega. He couldn't run or claim some space to himself like the other den, she had full control here. His chest tightened at the idea of entering. Jumping at her stern voice.

“It's rude to linger in doorways.” she tempered her agitation to not snap at him. “come in, or go away.” Not happy about leaving the door open while he stood between it. Regretting she took his offer to help, even if the extra hands made it easier. Flicking a match she tossed it into her fireplace. Lighting up a small patch of kindle on a lone chunk of wood. Just enough fire to make a working light, but one that would die quickly. Grabbing a black jug from the side table she popped off the cork. Pouring the pure blood into a wine glass only cut by some added spices. She didn't want to be drunk off blood wine all the time and her healing demanded it straight. Taking a sip as she grabbed the medical kit she'd been keeping close. Long out of bandages after these past few days. She sighed in setting aside the bottle of medical alcohol. Where to begin?… my face. Staring at herself in the broken mirror. Coming into view of its reflection was Ethan, stepping inside after his long hesitation. Her focus on treating her injuries was lost as she watched him react to her den. Chest fluttering at an omega approaching so close.

His curiosity of the décor around the room to how he was carrying himself. Nervous, yet overall he was relaxed in his bold approach others wouldn't do. Taking notes of his health being. Less than subpar. She tapped a finger against her bandaged face. Wanting to herd him into nesting down on her bed. Not liking the circles darkening under his eyes. his clothes looser than before made it tempting to offer him a meal. Switching to his anxiety over the blood bottle nearby. She considered putting it away to make him comfortable. … doesn't matter. He's leaving soon. Moving her resting hand to remove the bandage on her face.

The peeling sound of medical tape reminded him what he was here for. approaching quietly over to her side while she inspected her face. Appearing quite gruesome by the layers of revealed muscle her skin once hid. Deep claw marks funneled down the collected blood to drip off her jaw. blood dabbed away from where it smeared around, now clean for a new bandage patched on. Maybe this will be gone in a few more days. It better not fucking scar. Full willing to mangle her own face to erase Miranda's mark upon her skin.

Facing toward her side to tackle the larger wound next. She lifted the edge of her bloody nightshirt to scowl at the fabrics drenched condition. It'll take forever to remove this stain.

“your stitches popped.”

glancing at him then back toward her side. “was afraid that was the case.” It was hard to see from her angle, but by the amount of blood she knew it was true.

“I can restitch it, if you let me.”

She nodded. “Yes, let's do it by the fire for some light.” grabbing the med box to take along. Setting everything on the coffee table she grabbed the alcohol rag to clean away the blood as much as she could. Pressing dry gauze to hold in the rest long enough for Ethan to start stitching. Wincing at him pulling out the old torn wire first. The rest went far more smoothly needing a small clean up at the end before the new bandage was wrapped on. Reaching the end of the wrap he dug around the box for a pair of scissors to cut it off. Knowing he wouldn't find any she offered a sharp claw. He leaned away at first, then slipped the wrap against it. Sliced through without resistance he taped its end down to the rest of it.

She spoke a soft. “Thank you.” taking the glass of blood up to her lips.

“welcome.” setting the items back into the med box.

The silence settling in made him tense in her presence. Not liking that, she struck up some conversation. “Where do you plan to go?”

“not sure. … the country side somewhere? I was aiming to be a farm hand. Get my own place, maybe travel a lot.” clearing his throat. “I-i don't think I want to be around people anymore. Everyone I’ve gotten close to... My wife worked for some company that nearly killed the both of us after she went missing for years. A man who was supposed to protect us-” choking up on his words. “killed her. … him and his squad took me and rose away. ...Miranda discovered me and rose through a leak... I’m tired, I want to settle. was aiming to be self reliant and off grid from society. Live in the countryside enjoying some views and the fresh air.”

“What about your daughter?”

“... it'll be hard, but we'll make it.”

“how will you explain her?”

He scratched the back of his head. “stay cautious, like I did before.”

She didn't feel his plan was the best. Being on the run is hardly a life. So many things could go wrong, especially if anyone saw her and connected the dots to him being an omega. Strict homeschooling for her, then what after? They don't deserve this. A burning anger burst alive in her chest. The feeling of being useless to help him in the long run. What'd he even do wrong? If I could find those men I would- the wine glass in her hand shattered.

Ethan shrunk under the aggression. Much of the blood poured to the floor as the rest flowed down Alcina's arm. She closed her eyes to breath out the anger. Wanting to reassure him when she opened them again. “that wasn't toward you...” setting down the glass remains down onto the coffee table. Flicking the blood off toward the fire where it sizzled off in the heat. “You should go to bed.” leaving his side to get changed and clean. “You have a lot to plan.”

Ethan stayed quiet, nodding as he slowly got off the couch to gingerly walk out the door. All his actions oozed anxiety of accidentally catching her wrath. Soon as he was gone she felt a little relieved to be alone again. The fire dying down for the room to engulf itself back in darkness. She scooped up some new nightwear from the nearby dresser. Glaring at yet another blood stain she'd cause.

A fresh morning brought by the rising gold sun beaming through the windows. Ethan was still up after returning to his room. Those wounds were really bad. Breathing out his worry to rise from bed. Cleaned and dressed he did the same for rosemary once she was awake. Water splashed toward him from her bucket bath. During breakfast she tried to feed Ethan some banana he sliced for her. He smiled whenever she giggled at the faces he made. Holding her in a soft bundled blanket he held her hand through his breakfast. Chewing through another wave of anxiety. What am I going to do? Hiding it the best he could from his daughter. People will notice. A lone omega will spread like wildfire. Tapping his fork on his pancakes. Can I hide her away until she's older? Smiling at his little girl, patting his face, faltering briefly. I can't do that.

“you alright?” Bela asked, being the only other up so early.

“yeah... can you ask your mother for a list of chores?”

“you want chores?”

“mm... maybe a job.” he half mumbled.

“You want to be our maid?” an amused smile set on her face.

“better than me sitting around being useless.”

“you’re not being useless, you’re getting back on your feet after Miranda. That takes time.”

“not really. Earning money before I go can help. So why not?”

“mother would just give you the money.”

“no, I don't want to do that. Not after everything else.”

She smiled. “alright.” cleaning up her plate. “I’ll have a talk with mother before everybody else wakes.” preparing the later serving of breakfast she set aside a gathering of foods across the table. With an assembled plate she grabbed a special bottle from the cellar. heading toward her mothers room, knowing she would be up by now, like she was. Swarming away she reached the elegantly carved door to give a quick knock. Entering after a quick answer she saw her mother leaning over the bed.

The room was still kept dark with the curtains shut. dressed in her usual morning robe, draping all the way to the floor in a silvery blue, its soft silk was tied close around her waist. Long sleeves draping over her hands onto the bed. Alcina was fixing her bed spread by repeatedly smoothing the covers. It's too thin- no-... it's not. Glaring down at the bed being such an improper nest. But it wasn't supposed to be one in the first place. Repeatedly telling herself so since Ethan left her den last night.

“Mother, breakfast.”

“mm.” she hummed, taking in a breath to ease her tension. Straightening herself she winced with a hiss at her ribs causing problems. “Have you eaten yet?” taking her plate she smiled at her daughter's concerned face. Wanting to calm Bela's worries that she worked so hard to hide.

she smiled back. “yes.” Wavering at seeing the vanity broken since yesterday.

To keep her from asking about it she redirected their focus. “ready to go over numbers?” being the guiding hand to fully settle Bela in the role of business owner. Not with the current winery, but their new Spain based one. Excited to do so, she looked forward to her other daughters gaining their own winery branches some day.

“Yes, but I wanted to talk about Ethan first.”

“winters, why?” tensing at the topic, but hiding it as her ribs hurt while she sat down. Was he leaving? Her chest turned unbearably tight. I have to- no. don't let him- no. scolding herself at every turn.

Bela's voice stopped the rushing thoughts. “He’s interested in working for us.”

“working?” tension dying to confusion. “what for, doing what?”

“money.” shrugging. “whatever you ask of him?

She scoffed. “That's all?” taking up a piece of bacon to bite a piece off. “why doesn't he a-”

prickly toward her mothers attitude. “He doesn't want to ask for it!”

“tone.” shooting her daughter a look, Bela dipped her head with a look away. “wasn't his plan to become a farm hand? He can get a place and a job elsewhere. He has to go.”

“he can’t.”

“Bela-”

“he can't!”

“tone.”

“no! You know he can't! And what about you?! Your healing-”

“will improve, but-”

“but it hasn't! Because you keep hiding in the dark!”

Alcina stood from her seat to snap back. Instead she hissed through a bolt of pain taking her breath away. Leaning against her small writing desk to recover.

“The healing hasn't improved at all. You’re still bleeding.” Bela continued while her mother couldn't. “and you need to stop acting like a child.”

she growled through grit teeth. “I'm not hiding.” snorting the next. “I'm healing, and doing so in private is not childish.”

“I wasn't referring to that! What happened to the mirror? Hm?… same thing that happened to the end table? The couch pillows, the statue or your last canopy?”

Her mother looked away. “my temper slipped.” she excused every time, however there was more to it. “What would you have me do then? Walk out and bleed down the halls?”

“Go hide in your office. At least you’ll pick up Ethan's presence while crossing the halls. Give him a job, it’ll keep him around and you can make a schedule to avoid him.”

She mumbled a list of curse words. “very well. I’ll give him a list.”