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thebluestbluewords · 7 months

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anti-Valentine’s Valentine’s date

I tried SO HARD to write the adorable Jal prompt that I received for Jalentines day, and instead of cute all my brain wanted to write was angst. Set in approximately D2, it’s a 3k lead-in to a longer Jal fic that I’m probably not going to finish writing.

Mal kicks the door of the boy's dorm open with the heel of the stupid, impractical strappy sandals she's been wearing since before dinner.

Or at least, that's what she tries to do. Instead, because her life is a curse and the very existence of high heels is a prison, the delicate silver heel of the shoe that Evie spent hours sourcing for her snaps off.

Great. Perfect. This is just how she wanted the night to go.

Mal pounds on the door with her fist instead. "Open up! I brought misery and disdain for the institution of love!"

A thump. "And chocolate?"

"No, I didn't steal any chocolate at all from my date with the king of Auradon," Mal says, as sarcastically as she can manage with one shoe on and the other broken to pieces in her hands. "Just let me in already."

The door pops open. "You're late." Carlos informs her. "Evie already went back to your room."

Wonderful.

"I don't care," Mal informs him right back, and shoves her purse, which is tiny and lilac and stuffed to the brim with all the chocolate she could fit, into his hands. "I need this princess shit off my body yesterday. I am not cut out for valentine's day, that's what I've learned, and also Ben's going to dump me and I don't care."

"Woah. Uh. Maybe you should care--"

Mal spins around to glare at him, and Carlos immediately throws his hands up. "I MEAN, your judgement is impeccable and we all hate Ben now!"

Ugh.

"I don't hate him," Mal snaps, yanking her earrings out and throwing them sort of in the direction of somebody's dresser. There's still enough empty space on the top for her to recognize it as a dresser, so signs point to it belonging to Carlos. "I hate love. And valentine's day. And dating."

"You said you hated froot loops yesterday." Carlos points out. "Because I took the last of them. So like, I'm gonna take this with a spoonful of salt here. Did your date not go well?"

Mal rips the pins out of her hair with so much force that one of them flies into the mirror. It doesn’t shatter, which is a fucking shame. She would have liked to make an awful mess. "I hate love, and I'm going to die alone surrounded by the bones of my enemies. No, it did not "go well,”” She stops ripping out pins long enough to add air quotes, which are essential to the dramatic effect of it all. "He asked if I love him back, and I told him, again, that I don't know how to love people, and he made this horrible face and was so kind about the whole thing, and just-- ugh!"

Carlos is hovering. "I’m…sorry?"

"I'm sorry we ever came here." Mal spits, yanking her other shoe off and throwing it somewhere in the direction of Jay's shoe pile. "I don't-- I can't be a princess. I hate that I just-- I don't know how to do anything, and I hate when people look at me like I'm supposed to know what I'm doing, and there were all these cameras, and--augh!"

"Jay's in the shower," Carlos offers. "If you want to bother him about it."

"I want to hit something," Mal admits. It's not a perfect solution, but she's already feeling a little bit less like her skin is on too tight now that she's got her hair loose and wild around her shoulders and her earrings and stupid, uncomfortable, impractical shoes off. "I think-- d'you want to spar with us?"

"Can't. Homework." Carlos gestures to the textbooks he's got spread out on the neater one of the boys’ beds. "I've got a test tomorrow and if I fail I'll have to retake the class."

Mal leans over so she can see the textbooks. It looks like history, maybe. Something with a lot of dense text and no visible math problems. "I can't imagine you failing any test, furball." she says, meaning it. How well they thrived on the isle of the lost isn't a perfect gauge for how well they're doing in Auradon, but school is school no matter where they are, and Mal can't remember her little nerd ever failing a test.

Carlos goes even tenser at her attempt at reassurance. "First time for everything."

"Still, you failing?" Mal scoffs. "We're in Auradon, not Wonderland. Not everything is upside down and inside out and topsy-turvy. Or whatever Allie’s sayings are.. You'll be fine."

"I'll be better if I study. Sorry. No sparring for me tonight."

Ugh. Mal rips another pin out of her hair and throws it towards the mirror with the others. "Suit yourself. I'm going to go bother Jay into letting me beat the shit out of him."

Carlos flashes her a little half smile. "Have fun."

“Oh, I will,” Mal assures him, and spins around to go invade the sanctity of the boy’s showers.

The short, barefoot walk down the hallway to the boy's bathrooms gives Mal critical time to think about her plan of attack. She's wicked and awful, naturally, but she's also not especially interested in getting shouted at by a teacher for being out of bed and in the boy's showers tonight. She's had enough of being shouted at by adults who think they know better than her. She's not some Auradon girl to be controlled, so she's simply not going to get caught.

Which means she's going back to the boys room.

At least she'll remember to grab some different shoes this time.

"Fuck off, Mal," Carlos calls through the door when she knocks a second time. "You can't steal my shoes."

"I can steal whatever I want, actually," Mal corrects him, opening the door and barging in, as is her right as their fearless leader. She is Mal of the Isle, and she's not a prize to be won or a princess to be wooed. She's going to steal whatever shoes she likes. "Jay's shoes don't fit me right."

Carlos throws a pen at her. "Neither do mine, you're just delusional about the size of your own feet. At least take my sneakers if you're going sparring. I hate when we have to dig out the poison kit after hours."

Mal sticks her tongue out at him. Her shoes are all perfect, and she's also perfectly aware of the size of her feet, which are currently half a shoe size smaller than the one Carlos wears. As such, their shared approximate size gives her the right to steal his shoes whenever the princess ones she's been dressed in are too much for her to manage, physically or mentally. . "I'm taking the ones with spikes."

"Are not."

"Are so," Mal says, diving under the bed to where he keeps all four pairs of his shoes lined up. "I'm going to add more spikes while you're not looking. Poison-tipped ones. Razor-sharp."

"Use porcupine quills, they're barbed." Carlos says helpfully, making absolutely no motion to get up and defend his shoes.

Mal shoves aside the fallen textbook, grabs the hoodie shoved under the bed for later, and ah. There’s her prize. Boots (with spikes), dress shoes, cleats (more spikes), and there at the end, sneakers.

"Fishhooks," Mal suggests. "The giant ones that rip holes when they come out. And I'll dip them in bleach powder so it burns the whole time they're inside."

Carlos shudders. "Gross."

"You're gross," Mal rips her dress over her head, and does not wince at the popping noise the shoulder seam makes. Evie can fix it again later, or they can burn it. Whichever. "I'm taking your clothes too."

"Wash the bloodstains out before you put them back."

Shirt. Pants. Hoodie. Sneakers.

Ill-gotten disguise on, Mal flashes him a thumbs up on her way back out the door.

“Hey,” Mal calls out, keeping her voice intentionally low. She’s got the hood of Carlos’s stolen hoodie pulled up over her hair, and she’s relying on the sight of a familiar size-shape-color-scheme to deter anyone from looking too closely at her. Not that there’s many students around the boy’s bathroom at 9pm on Valentine’s night, but still. She’s not exactly looking to get caught. “Jaybird?”

There’s no noise in the bathroom except for the irregular drip of a shower head that hasn’t been turned off quite hard enough. All the money in the world, and Auradon Prep still doesn’t have showers that actually work how they’re supposed to.

It’s ridiculous. If Mal were in charge of the school budget she’d be putting all the money into showers. A hot shower and a fireplace in every dorm, so that none of the students have to feel cold if they don’t want. That’s the budget priorities Mal would have. Warmth, and then food. The dining hall could stand to leave leftovers out longer after meals.

…princesses don’t think about food. She’s been around Evie long enough to know that one. Princesses are tiny and perfect without even trying. Princesses eat salad and fruit and don’t order fries with anything. Princesses are the sort of people the king is supposed to be dating, and Mal is never, ever going to become that sort of person.

“Mal?”

Mal does not jump. She just— startles. Just a little. “Hey.”

There’s a smile playing at the corner of Jay’s mouth. “Hey yourself. I thought you’d be out with Ben still.”

“You know price charming,” Mal waves a hand. “Had to have me home by midnight or else he was afraid I’d turn into a pumpkin.”

“It’s nine thirty.”

“Localized curse. The younger you are, the earlier it thinks you should be home. We picked nine, just to be safe.”

“You can just say you had a bad date, killer,” Jay says. “I’ll be your alibi. You need a shovel?”

Mal snorts. “It didn’t go that badly, give me some credit. I just freaked out when he started talking about love. While we were on a date to talk about love.”

Fuck.

A lot more of the evening makes sense when she frames it that way. None of the bullshit they’ve found online talks about dating the king of the entire country, but there’s a lot of website with mind-numbing names like psychology today and buzzbees news that make it very clear how important Auradon brats think nonverbal communication is.

She went on a date. On Valentine’s Day.

With Ben.

“…Killer?”

Focus.

“Fuck off.” Mal snaps reflexively. “I’m fine. Just. Plotting.”

Jay dodges around her for a pile of fabric, which reveals itself to be his Auradon-blue team hoodie. “You wanna plot somewhere a little better?”

“What I want is to go home, but I’m not going to get that,” Mal says thoughtfully. “I was going to ask you to spar with me, but if you’ve got any better ideas I’m open to hearing them.”

“Breaking and entering.” Jay says immediately. “We should blow this place. There’s that all-ages club in town—”

“If I have to touch another human being I’m going to scream.”

Jay touches her arm deliberately, a sustained pressure that doesn’t even read as touch, just comfort. Mal drinks it in like he’s pouring the comfort directly onto all the jagged, awful pieces of her soul. “I’m not a human being?”

“Shut up. You’re mine, it’s different.”

“You’re mine, then.”

There’s a piece of her heart that fits perfectly again the broken edges of his. Mal couldn’t let go of Jay if she tried, not for anything in the world. Not for her mother breathing fire at them, not for Fairy Godmother insisting that it’ll be good for them to make other friends, and not for a stupid holiday that says she’s only supposed to be tied to one person, and not even the one holding on to her right now.

“Sure.” Mal agrees, because she can’t put words to the enormity of feelings she’s experiencing. Villains don’t have feelings, but she’s reformed now, and it’s harder to describe the feelings with words than it is to have them. “We can sneak out, see what trouble we can find.”

“You’re all the trouble I need, killer.” Jay says, too honest. “I’ll take you out of here whenever you need. Wherever you want.”

“Sap.”

“Princess.”

“Do I look like a princess to you?” Mal leans back to gesture at herself. The sweatshirt she stole isn’t Auradon-blue like Jay’s. It’s an old one, ratty in the way that all their old isle stuff is, and nearly transparent at the elbows. The seams are held together with Evie’s neat machine stitching, but the thread is three different shades of red and grey all mashed together, and there’s a hole in the edge of the hood that’s exposing the soft inside of it. Her sneakers are a size too big, and laced tight to compensate. Her hair is still a mess from the violent undoing that she’d subjected it to, and she can’t be bothered to try and tame it, not when her chest is bursting with feelings that don’t have any place to go except for out of her body, in tears or screams or whatever violence she’s able to inflict that will drive the awful right feeling out.

“The prettiest princess in all the land,” Jay says, and jumps back before the words are even out of his mouth, out of the range of Mal’s swipe. “C’mon, killer. You’re the fiercest baby dragon I know. Come out with me. We can find trouble somewhere better than this.”

"You're trouble already," Mal grumbles, but there's no bite to the words. She wants, wholly and completely, to be somewhere else. "The gates are locked for the night, you know."

"No problem. Besides, you can just say you're on an important errand for the king and get through all the school security."

"I could," Mal agrees. It's not like she's afraid of a little misplaced power when she can wield it. "But it's more fun to sneak out."

Jay's grin is a bright flash in the darkness. "Hey, I've got a stupid idea."

Mal grunts. "Shoot."

"I could toss you over the fence."

"The twenty foot fence."

Jay shrugs. "It's more like twelve feet. At least according to the build specs."

"Which you came across..."

"Totally legally. They're in the library, if you know where to look for 'em."

"You're impossible," Mal sighs. "Okay, once you toss me how are we getting you over?"

"I'll jump."

Over the twelve foot fence. "Sure, and when you break your leg falling back down?"

"You'll magic me back together again. Humpty-dumpty this shit."

"I don't think you actually know that rhyme."

"I know your rhymes," Jay shoots back. "You've got magic for levitation in the spellbook, yeah?"

"I don't have the spellbook with me, wise guy." Mal points out. "I'm not even wearing my own shoes right now, what makes you think I memorized magic that'll get us over the fence?"

Jay's eyes are too bright. She's going to have to use a spell just to hide him, and the magic will burn her out, and they'll get stuck on the wrong side of the fence, and-- that's what she would think, if she were Jane, or someone will less awesome magic powers. She's Mal of the Isle, and she's got this shit under control.

"Dragon magic," Jay says cheerfully, like it's not late and they're not doing something totally against all of the rules they're supposed to be learning by sneaking out to the city. "I trust you, killer."

"I could kill you," Mal grumbles, but she raises her hands and lets the magic gather there, blue-green sparks catching on her fingertips as she pulls the spell out from her mind. "Make this boy as light as air, hop the fence without a care."

The magic falls over Jay in a net of shimmering sparks. They absorb in after a second, but the look suits him. Mal spares a thought for her sketchbook, which is tucked away in her locker with the rest of the books she hasn't had the time to touch in weeks, and the drawing her fingers are itching to make. "You can hop it now. You'll be light enough to jump over the fence with a regular leap."

"Sweet!" Jay turns and drops to a knee. "Hop on."

"Piggyback? Seriously?"

"No better way to hop it together. Unless you'd rather I throw you over."

It's dangerous, and not just physically. Mal's been doing a pretty fucking good job at squashing down the feelings she's not supposed to have for her best friends, but this...

She's emotionally illiterate, but Jay's offer to take her out tonight is like a picture book. Or one of those furniture instructions that doesn't even have language, just pictures to follow.

He cares about you, Mal's traitorous brain whispers. More than your boyfriend does.

Ugh.

"Don't do anything stupid," Mal says, even as she's the one climbing on. "The spell should be good for a few leaps, but--"

"Can't hear you, too busy blowing this place!" Jay grunts, pushing them both upright. "Let's fuckin' go--"

"Don't--"

"Hup!"

Well. At least they're on the other side of the fence now, even if they crashed directly into the school holly bush on the landing.

"Oww," Jay groans. "Might need a little more practice on that spell. I think there's something wrong with your magic assist on the landing."

Mal yanks a leaf out of her arm. "There is no magic assist, dumbass. I tried to tell you, but somebody decided to go full steam ahead without listening to my warning. We're over now, and that's what matters."

Jay mumbles something unintelligible. She can only assume it's rude, given the circumstances. Ugh, holly leaves are not the hot new accessory of the season, not even when they're doing a levitation act and sticking with a single thorn into her nose.

"Speak up or shut up, jaybird."

"I said--" It's impossible to tell in the darkness, but it looks like he might be blushing. The school grounds are supposed to have automatic lights, but a little wire cutting took care of that for them, and they're sneaking out under cover of darkness tonight. Mal's good at knowing her crew, but she can't be sure. "I, uh, you're important. To me."

"Don't get mushy on me."

"I'd never. Just. We're sneaking out together, and I wanted you to know, I'd never commit crimes and misdemeanors with anyone else."

"Liar."

Jay flashes her a smile, but he's doing the thing where he's got a hand tangled up in his hair, and it makes him look heart-wrenchingly sincere. "Yeah, but not to you."

Oh, gods. "Don't go having feelings on me," Mal says, swallowing down the wobble that wants to creep into her voice. "I can't handle it. Not tonight, please."

Just like that, Jay's posture melts into something different. Not quite his usual confidence, but something closer to normal. "Sure. No feelings. I can do that."

"I don't--" Mal scrubs a hand over her eyes. "I didn't mean that you can't have feelings, just. I can't be the one to handle them tonight. I'll do whatever you want tomorrow, just-- can we just go be somewhere else tonight? I can't handle all this lovey stuff."

Jay's shoulders melt even further. Mal can't look him in the eye, she can't, she won't--

He's smiling. His hand is so, so warm in hers. "Killer."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugs. "Whatever. You're allowed to have a bad night. I'll take you out, we can forget this ever happened tomorrow. Easy."

"You should have someone better," Mal cries, and the horrible realization that she's crying sets in. "I don't want feelings for you!"

"shit," Jay whispers, so quietly that Mal is sure she wasn't supposed to hear it at all. "Dragon, we don't have to do feelings like the Auradon brats. You can just be mine, and I can be yours, and we don't have to do any of the mushy shit that's freaking you out. We can just run away."

"Together."

"Yeah. Unless you spelled somebody else over the fence while I was distracted."

Mal wipes the sleeve of her stolen hoodie across her nose. "Ugh, no. I don't use magic for just anybody."

"See, there you go. I'm honored to be worthy of your magic, your royal evil-ness."

“Fuck off,” Mal groans, and then before she can lose her nerve she steps close enough to cup his face in her hands. There’s no magic this time, but Jay’s skin is hot and soft under her palms, and it feels like there should be magic between them. “I’m the worst girlfriend in the world, so I won’t ever put you through that. I’m selfish, and I’m flaky, and I can’t say that I love you, and I can’t ever promise that I’ll be able to say it.”

Jay’s face is a thundercloud. “Did Ben say you needed to say it back?”

“No, but— Ben’s not here right now. That’s the point. He’s not the person I run to when everything in the world is too much for me to handle. Ben’s sweet and all, but he’s not who I want to be with when I’m upset. Can you imagine what he’d say if I suggested running away from the grounds?”

“What ho good chap, let me summon a car to escort you from the venerable grounds of our fine institution,” Jay picks up her thread, mocking. “And yeah, I guess when you put it that way, it’s pretty silly to think about Ben taking care of you.”

Mal sucks in a breath. “Exactly. He’s sweet, but I don’t know how to deal with sweet, and it feels like the pressure of it is killing me. You know how to push back when I’m being a monster, and I don’t know how to fit that into one of the relationship boxes I’m supposed to use here.”

Jay tips his head into her hands. “We could make our own box.”

“We could.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to be my girlfriend.”

Mal leans in. “I know,” she tells the space between Jay’s parted lips. “I know.”

#my fic #descendants #descendants fic #mal bertha #Jay son of Jafar #carlos de vil #look I have a lot of feelings but they’re all tied up in the complicated nature of being a new student who’s terrified #of being sent back to the isle #and like. I WANT Jal to be cute together #but I think they have to wade through a lot of feelings before they can acknowledge each other and I love them #but they are soooo emotionally incompetent #anyway I am sorry this isn’t the cute Jalentines fic I was trying to write for today #but it’s written and it’s something!#and the name of the game today is writing all the ficlets #quantity not quality babey

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dreamingangelwolf · 3 months

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Hello tumblr, I am not dead yet *fist pump*

Finally answering one of two tagging things from @aranict - this is long overdue, to say the least…!

3 Ships:

1. Dabi/Hawks from My Hero Academia. Literally one interaction was all it took for me to go ‘oh god I ship it’ and, damn, I ship it hard. It may not be canon, but the potential for it is unreal - the snark, the parallels, the tension, the drama, that delicious enemies-to-lovers foundation, yesssss. Helps that each of them has a very attractive voice to me, too, haha X) This latest season is going to hurt me, I can tell…

2. Rowan Whitethorn/Aelin Galathynius from the Throne of Glass series. As much as I wanted these two to be much more of a slow burn than they actually were, I can forgive that when they work so well together as a couple. Crying shame also that we never got to see them literally fighting side by side, but we got “To whatever end” instead and y’know what? Iconic.

3. Zack Fair/Aerith Gainsborough from Final Fantasy VII. I have loved these two for nigh on 15 years now. I found FFVII because of them. I love the innocence of their fledgling relationship, I love the tragedy that it fell victim to, but mostly I adore how happy they made each other, and how complimentary their personalities were. (I have just reached Gongaga in Rebirth too and when I say I spent 50% of this part of the game clutching my chest over my heart - augh. The Feels.)

First Ship: Had to stretch my memory back a bit, but I’m pretty sure it would have been Lenne and Shuyin from Final Fantasy X-2. That was my first ever FF game (criminal, I know, but fight me) and their story grabbed my 14-year-old heartstrings like nothing else at the time. In retrospect, it might have been the tragedy of it again, and that was probably the first tragic romance that really resonated with me? Admittedly, ‘1,000 Words’ probably helped with that, heh (still love that song).

Last Song: ‘Choke’ by The Warning, whom I discovered in the last few days and damn. Talk about fresh talent. There are very few bands for me where I prefer the live version of a song to the recorded one but these girls are breaking all my expectations. Will also recommend ‘Hell You Call A Dream’, which is the song I was recommended and that got me hooked!

Last Movie: The Crow (1994), which my local cinema put on now that trailers of the remake with Bill Skarsgård are making the rounds. To my friends’ exasperation, it was a bit lost on me. I like the concept and the basis of the story, but I didn’t quite dig the goth-ness of it (eternal apologies, Brandon Lee - it’s no slight on you, I promise). I can appreciate it as a cult classic, and for its importance at the time, but personally it wasn’t what I want from a film nowadays. Can I still call myself a 90s kid

Currently Reading: House of Earth and Blood by Sarah J. Maas. I’m about 1/3 the way through, off the top of my head, and while it’s not gripping me like ToG (or even, dare I say it, ACOTAR) did, I’m liking it so far. It has, however, spurned a SJM Bingo Card between me and my two friends (who have also read the entirety of SJM’s books and are cheerleading my foray into Crescent City), which is proving to be highly amusing X)

Currently Craving: udon noodles in some kind of broth. Preferably a light, beefy one. Sick as I currently am, I just want the warm, thick, soft noodly goodness as a source of comfort and a way to flush out my sinuses. I curse my lack of takeaway options and my inability to cook one of my favourite foods for myself.

Okay I’m not tagging anyone else because I’m running on my last few brain cells and still need to get myself to bed, so I’ll wrap up with a thanks to aranict for the tag and a promise to get to the next one soon!

#personal me #tagging thing #ships chosen off my last AO3 obsessions lol #I unapologetically love FFX-2 though sorry not sorry #please somebody get me udon noodle soup and a solid non-feverish night of sleep

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phantarein · 1 year

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Watakeichi: Keito's day off (Ch.1)

I'm posting this in ao3 but I'll cross-post it here!

Did I start in 2020 and just updated it today? Maybe...

The streets of Shibuya were bursting with life, excited chatter was heard all around. Keito was standing in the middle of it all, a frown adorning his face. It was 02:05 PM… They were late.

A sigh escapes his lips. He shouldn’t have agreed to this, but they wouldn’t ever leave him alone if he refused. He finally had a break from his busy schedule, and he ended up wasting it on this? He has mellowed out these last years.

A fancy car stopped in front of him, bringing him out of his thoughts. The door opened, showing Wataru, accompanied by Eichi. “Keito~ Pardon our lateness. For I, the great Hibiki Wataru, am only human, may you find it in your cold heart to forgive us…” Wataru bowed dramatically, his frown deepening. How insufferable. A soft laugh interrupted his anger, Eichi ever so amused with the clown’s antics.

“Fufu, it was only five minutes, Keito.” His face softens, he was right- but that was enough time for his mind to bring his insecurities to light. Shaking off this line of thinking, he looks at them with a sharp gaze. Wataru had a hideous colorful collared shirt, it looked like something you would find in a child’s wardrobe. At least his pants were normal enough, with neutral beige coloring, and some brown shoes. Eichi was wearing a large beige coat, under it, was a pastel pink sweater. It looked warm, so he wasn’t concerned that he might get a cold. He had some dark brown pants and black shoes. Despite the contrast between the two, they looked good together. Keito, on the other hand, was wearing a black turtleneck sweater, some dark green pants, and brown shoes. He hoped he didn’t look too formal, it was a casual meeting – date, he reminds himself- after all.

“What is it Keito? Are you speechless over our beautiful entrance~? Or are you stunned over our amazing looks?” Wataru starts flinging his arms around theatrically, his overwhelming presence bringing the attention of many passersby.

“We’ve stood here enough; we should get going.” He says, he had to admit he was a bit embarrassed by being caught looking for longer than he should have.

They start walking at a comfortable pace, if everything went as planned, they would be having some lunch in a café, then walking around a park, and finally, they would go to Wataru’s home for a movie and spend the night there. He could hear the two talking lightly, with some laughs here and there.

“-and then Yuzuru had to clean it all up. I’m pretty grateful that I met him.” Eichi says with a smile.

“Why yes! Butler-san is very useful! His tea will never be on-par with mine of course.” He says proudly.

“Why don’t you at least bother to learn the names of your unit mates. Incorrigible.”

“Nicknames are much better, my dear Keito, you see, they come from the heart, I put a lot of thought into them!” He puts his hand over his heart in a dramatic fashion. “It wounds me that you think so lowly of me! Your boyfriend!” He drops onto the floor.

“Augh! You- “He chokes out in surprise. “We’re in public!” Keito frantically looks around, it appears many people had seen him, some looked with concern, and others tried to get away as fast as possible. He quickly makes him stand up. Wataru, with a pout, looks at him, unconcerned with the opinion of others. Did this guy have no shame?!

A snort stops their staring contest, looking for the source of the sound, they see Eichi with tears on his face, laughing like there was no tomorrow.

“Ahaha- “More giggles came bubbling through his mouth, without thinking he smiles as well. But once he notices he wipes it off. The powerful laugh of Wataru was coming through too, making him feel warm inside.

He sighs. “Stop messing around, let’s get going.” He says while falling into a steady pace again. The other two fell behind him. After a short walk they finally came to a stop, the café, named “Paradise”, was small and humble. It had become one of Eichi’s favorite places over time, it was near work and it had amazing tea. They entered and received a warm welcome by the owner, they were regulars, and the workers knew them by name.

“Welcome! Please take a seat, will you be taking the usual?”

“Yes, please.” He pays while the other two take a seat, while he did know that the both of them could pay for it just fine, he liked to treat them in any way he can.

He went to the table with them, it was right beside the window, in the corner of the room. There was a plant right beside the table -fondly named Charlie- and some dream catchers hanging in the ceiling. With some mindless chatter, time went by and their orders arrived. Wataru had asked for some Ceylon Black Tea -fittingly, it was called Magic Nights- and rainbow jello. While Eichi got some Chamomille Tea with a white chocolate cake. As for him, he had some Matcha Green Tea with a piece of Matcha cake.

From the corner of his eye, he could see that Wataru was trying to get a bite out of his cake, and while he didn’t stop him, he did give him an ugly glare.

He hears some sort of clicking sound and sees that Eichi took a picture of them all. Suddenly, his phone vibrates, and sees that it’s a notification from their group chat. He opens the file and is met with said picture. He had an annoyed look on his face while Wataru had his eyes locked on the cake. Eichi had a radiant smile, completely unfazed by their antics.

It brought a smile to his face, the amount of fondness he had for them was immeasurable. He wanted to thank whatever Gods had blessed him with such beings.

“Fufu, Keito, is that one of those rare smiles-?” Eichi looks at him mischievously, clearly enjoying himself.

He blushes. “I-I’m not smiling! Don’t look at me with that face.” He averts his gaze, in embarrassment, he brings his cup to his lips.

Time went by and they finished their food over some small talk. However, this was only the beginning of their date…

Here's the link to the fic:

Keito's day off - Chapter 1 - ShaktiKali - Ensemble Stars! (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]

#watakeichi #enstars #ensemble stars #phantawrites #hibiki wataru #keito hasumi #eichi tenshouin #fanfic

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regenderate · 3 years

Note

4 9 20 :)

hiiiiiiii! <3

4. if you could magically get a brilliant and skilled anonymous writer to write the book of your dreams in a perfectly executed way, what kind of book would you want from them?

augh um. i don't even know... i think. hm. i don't know what the book of my dreams is because i think part of the fun of books is like. seeing what other people think of if that makes sense. like... i don't think i could come up with my "perfect book" by someone else, because part of what makes it good is that they came up with it? and if i have an idea of a "perfect book" then i have to be the one to write it ;LSDAJKF uh. but i'll take this opportunity to tell everyone to read jo walton because her books are exactly what i want from books <3

9. what’s something about yourself you like that you didn’t always?

hmmm i don't know. i think like... i am in general getting over and around a lot of internalized ableism, so i feel like there are things that i enjoy that have been a source of shame in the past? and i'm trying to get past that shame. i feel like i've never consciously disliked something about myself, which isn't to say that my self esteem is like. high. but like... i don't really verbalize the things i dislike i suppose. so it's hard to think what i've disliked that i don't anymore.

20. a light question to end— name a song you think is a universal goodie that everyone on your dash could potentially like.

gonna get through this world by the klezmatics. ideal song

#about me #ask game #<3 thank youuuuu

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cookiescr · 4 years

Text

Cat

(Happy birthday!)

Xadia, even divided in half, was enormous. It was the size of the five human kingdoms put together; there was plenty of room for vastly differing biomes, such as arid sandpits like the Midnight Desert, or lush forests like the one hosting the Silvergrove. Each of those biomes were full of flora and fauna that were adapted to the terrain. Amaya was aware of all this; that was how nature worked, and she had experienced nature back in Katolis well enough to understand these concepts.

Unfortunately, she was unfamiliar with much of the magical fauna native to Xadia. There were some that were relatively easy to identify, given their similarity to Katolian animals- a deer with antlers that glowed when the moon was up was still a deer. But some were harder to guess, like the six-legged serpentine creature that she was told was a type of frog. She's fairly certain frogs aren't supposed to have fangs, but it did jump onto a tree and grab a visibly-vibrating beetle with its tongue, so she didn't press the issue.

But learning about Xadia's fascinating creatures was not Amaya's focus; she was needed in more important matters, like training new human and Sunfire soldiers, protecting caravans of supplies being sent from and delivered to Lux Aurea, and supporting her girlfriend, both emotionally and with her new duties as Sunfire Queen. Rebuilding Lux Aurea took so much work.

Currently, she was on her way back to the palace; Janai had asked her to go to the university to deliver some boxes of books that were found in the castle basement, as many of the university’s books had been lost in the destruction. It was also a nice chance for her to say hello to Kazi. While she wouldn't say the two of them were friends, they had been quite friendly to her while she was a prisoner. Besides, they were becoming good friends with Gren. Kazi was happy to see her, and offered her an oatmeal raisin cookie. The cookie was dry, crumbling apart, and burnt on the bottom, but they had tried their best. She appreciated the sentiment, if not the cookie itself.

When she found a trash receptacle to dispose of the inedible cookie, she moved to dump it in but paused; did it... move? Was something alive in there? Given the magical nature of everything in Xadia, it was possible that something in there was alive when it shouldn't be, or that the trash itself had become a singular entity and gained sentience. Amaya's hand hovered over her sword handle- or rather, where her sword would usually be, if she were wearing her armor. Since she hadn't intended to encounter any danger within Lux Aurea itself, she was wearing casual clothes. She quickly cursed herself for being so unprepared.

Something poked its head out from behind the receptacle, not from within it. Something with little ears, beady eyes, a tiny nose, and fur redder than Gren's hair- well, except for its legs, which, quite amusingly, looked like they had black stockings on. It was one of the most adorable things she had ever seen, only beaten by her nephews as babies. Although, that was challenged when it stood up on two paws, the other two stretching up above its head as it waddled towards her.

Amaya looked around to see if there were any nearby elves who could help her with the creature, but the street was practically empty. It was noon, so most of the elves in Lux Aurea were probably having lunch. Sunfire elves liked daily schedules and punctuality, and Amaya had always liked that about them. Sure was a minor inconvenience right now, though.

The animal didn't seem hostile, so she bent down to look at it closer. When she offered it her hand, it landed back on all fours to give it a sniff, its fluffy tail moving to match its body's movements. It looked soft, and not especially dirty, so she gave its head a careful rub. Oh, how soft! And the animal didn't mind the attention, especially when she went behind its ears. So, as Amaya had gathered about the animal: small, friendly, playful, likes petting, digs in garbage, too flexible to be a dog (hopefully), uses its tail to balance...

Why, it must be a Xadian cat! Even Lux Aurea has strays, apparently. Or maybe the strays are new, since so many previous pet owners were lost... No, that didn't bear to think about.

The cat clearly didn't have a collar, so she assumed that meant it also currently didn't have a home; pet cats usually weren't so familiar with seeing trash cans as a food source, after all. And it would be a shame to leave such a cute kitty alone to starve on the street...

If the cat made any verbal protests against being scooped up, Amaya didn't hear it.

Paperwork, ever the bane of those cursed to experience it, was among the most important and worst parts of rebuilding Lux Aurea. While they had once had vast resources and great wealth to operate with, nearly all of it was lost to the destruction. Now, Janai had to figure out how best to divide up what was left.

Of course, any spare or unused items in the castle's various cellars, basements, and storage rooms were given away where it would be most needed- old clothes, sturdy dishware, warm blankets, tucked-away boxes of children's toys, anything that could assist or comfort the people- her people- was handed out to them, or put where they could access them.

After that, she had the matter of actual resources, like wood, various metals, food, and money. Money was the biggest source of concern. She had sold or traded anything particularly valuable but not notably useful (Khessa had apparently been far fonder of sparkly jewelry than Janai or their brother had been aware of), but still, there was never enough to go around. The builders must be paid for their labor, but they can't do any labor if they're starving because the farmers weren't paid for their food. But if they pay the farmers first, where will they put the food? Many of the storage vaults, including several of the magically-enhanced ones that can preserve food for years, were damaged or destroyed in the attack. Yet there was still the matter of the guards who were helping her maintain order in all this mess, and the smiths who had so quickly begun work on dearly needed tools, nails, and steel toes for boots- they must also be compensated for their labor.

Far from last, far from least, there are families starving, homeless, and grieving, so many lives disrupted and upturned- and she was responsible for all of them. She hadn't even time for her own grief. Luckily, she had Amaya by her side, to carry out her will as her right hand, and to help her come to terms with her loss. Right now, Amaya was helping with delivering goods across the city; not the grandest job, but she needed to know they would arrive at their intended destination, but most of the guards were already busy with, well, guarding.

Perhaps she could organize a meeting between the builders and the farmers. If she could get the builders to agree to build for the farmers first- er no, wait, get the farmers to give food to- or, wait, was it... Augh, she was starting to confuse herself. But there was no time to take a break to clear her head, so she'd have to keep going. What was it that each of them wanted? Well, maybe if the builders agreed to let the farmers be paid first, the farmers would agree to lend the builders some of their draft beasts. But, if that failed, then-

Janai's caravan of thought was knocked clear off the road as Amaya slammed the door open. No matter how many times Janai asked her to just pound on the door and open it normally, Amaya liked the surprised looks on everyone's faces as she barged into a room as loudly as she could. Or as loudly as she hoped she could. All the same, Janai stood up to greet her. "Ah, you're back! How was..." She trailed off, looking at the strange animal her beloved girlfriend was gleefully holding up, like a child showing off their newest toy. "Amaya, what is that?"

Amaya shifted the animal to rest across her left arm, so she could use her right hand to pinch next to her cheek, pull it back, and let it go. What? She knew Amaya was having some difficulty identifying Xadian wildlife, but how could she mess this one up to such a degree? Surely they had those in Katolis, and Amaya should be familiar with them already?

"Amaya, that is not a cat. Where did you find that?"

#omygod anon #thank you so much i cannot stop smiling this is so fucking cute #esp the part where amaya found the red panda #like aaaaaaaaa #janai #amaya #janaya #fic #thank you thank you litrally #i am so happy this made me so happy #submission

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sadistresc · 3 years

Text

HOW DOES YOUR MUSE CARRY EMOTIONS?

RULES. please repost, don’t reblog! bold and italicize what applies accordingly.

ANGER. jaw clenching, hands balling into fists, teeth grinding, yelling, going nonverbal, stuttering speech, rushed speech, slow concise speech, rambling, quiet, arms crossing, shaking head, tearing up, animated, expressionless, projects, internalizes, vents, withdraws, passive aggressive, direct, physical outbursts, verbal outbursts

JOY. easy smiles, fighting back grins, suppressed laughter, loud laughter, giggles, chuckling, smirks, whole body laughs, covers mouth when laughing/giggling, throws head back when laughing, slaps leg, touches people around them when laughing, looks down when laughing, looks for eye contact when laughing, sparkling eyes, bubbly happiness, quiet subtle happiness, obnoxious happiness, wants to spread joy, quietly savors joy

SADNESS. crying, bottling it up, seeks distractions, wallows, meditates and processes, avoidance, seeks out comfort, withdraws, talks it out, internalizes it, sad smiles, depression naps, uses alcohol, uses drugs, seeks out sources of joy, fidgets with sentimental item, sits in silence, broods, gets moody, wants someone to share the misery, tries to hide negative emotions, nurtures others to make themselves feel better

EMBARRASSMENT/SHAME. blushing, looking away, rubbing at back of head, covering face, laughing nervously, laughs it off, overthinks, lets it go, self deprecating humor, deflects, gets irritated, smiles, withdraws, crossing arms over stomach, crossing arms over chest, hands in pockets, shoulders sinking, shrugs, falling into silence until comfortable again, talking a lot to compensate

GUILT. avoiding eye contact, shoulders sinking low, head hanging down, crying, chest aches, lashes out, internalizes, apologizes, deflects, communicates, withdraws, grand gestures for forgiveness, accepts fault easily, punishes themselves, martyrdom, victim complex, over-active guilt complex, healthy conscience, internalizes even after forgiveness, seeking redemption, moves on easily, denial, lack of guilt/conscience, sorry they got caught more than caused harm, can’t handle knowing they hurt others

FEAR/ANXIETY. trembling, crying, sarcasm/sass to cope, rambles, goes silent, gets angry, fidgeting, clenching jaw, picking at nails, chewing at lip, pulling at clothes, adjusting jewelry/clothing, swallowing thickly, eyes widening, over-reacts, under-reacts, calm, logical, panic, irrational, overthinks, carefully analyzes, talks to themselves, breathing exercises, flight, fight, withdraw, fawn

tagged by: i snagged it from @caliphor hehe tagging: steal it from me too >:)

#𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖘 𝖎 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖊 . study .#𝖍𝖆𝖎𝖗 ; 𝖘𝐤𝖎𝖓 ; 𝖓𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖘 . 𝖎 𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙'𝖘 𝖑𝖊𝖋𝖙 . headcanon .#𝖎'𝖒 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖉𝖔𝖓𝖊 . queue .

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superiordragonlorde · 6 years

Text

Life

Day 5 (October 28) - Wanted/Historical/Robots

Here we go for @month-of-wonder!

Warnings: vulgar language

I hope you all enjoy it! (This one might be my favorite so far, but I’m not sure as of yet. It was fun to make though!)

Bakugo tore his hands through his hair.

“Fuck,” he growled. He kicked a toolbox, sending its tools scattering across the floor as it clanged a couple feet away. “Fuck!”

“Kacchan?” Bakugo whirled around, glaring at the robot that watched him from across the room, fingers wringing together, gears creaking from the motion.

“That’s not my fucking name!” he yelled, throwing his workbench to the ground. “Bakugo. Bakugo Katsuki. How fucking hard is it for you to compute that?” He grabbed a crowbar and chucked it. The claw jammed into the cement wall.

“I’m sorry,” the robot whispered. Bakugo roared, smashing his fist onto his work table.

“No!” he screamed. “You’re supposed to be a fucking badass, all-powerful fighting machine. You’re not supposed to take shit from anyone. What the hell is wrong with you?” He banged his head onto the table, body trembling. The robot watched him, green visual receptors lowering in the human signal for shame.

Bakugo straightened, glowering, and grabbed a wrench.

“Get over here,” he growled, gesturing for the robot to follow him. Metal tapped across the floor, following Bakugo to the back workroom where a repair station stood, one of the few things in good shape in the limited space. The robot was well aware of the drill and stepped into the repair station, allowing Bakugo to secure his appendages to the steel frame.

“Let’s figure out what’s fucking wrong with you, D.E.K.U.,” Bakugo muttered, spinning the wrench between his fingers. He opened a panel on the robot’s chest. A green core glowed in its center, two switches on either side. Bakugo flipped the one on the left. The green visual receptors dimmed and closed as the robot powered down. Bakugo slapped the panel closed and walked around to the robot’s back. He used the wrench to loosen the bolts holding the back section together, exposing the wires underneath.

“All right,” Bakugo rubbed his hands, a vicious grin on his face. “Let’s get a killer machine going here.”

****

Bakugo strolled out of the stadium, pockets filled with money, and the new title of Champion to uphold it all. D.E.K.U. walked behind him, gears creaking and turning with each step.

“Yo, Bakugo!” An arm slung around Bakugo’s shoulders. “Bro, that was awesome!” Bakugo glanced over at Kirishima, a smug grin taking hold of his face.

“Of course it was, Shitty Hair,” he barked, allowing his friend to hang off him.

“I thought you said D.E.K.U. was a huge pile of junk.” He turned his head to call out over his shoulder, “Sorry, no offense.” The robot looked up, startled.

“I can’t take offense,” he replied. “I wasn’t programmed to.” Bakugo rolled his eyes.

“Didn’t program the piece of shit to cry every damn hour, but he still does anyway,” he muttered darkly. Kirishima laughed, pulling Bakugo closer.

“Yeah, I’ve got a couple bugs to figure out with Uravity myself,” Kirishima chuckled. “She keeps randomly jumping for no reason, and I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why.” He sighed, sagging against Bakugo, who’d decided he’d had enough and shoved him away.

“Dude,” Kirishima perked up, brushing off Bakugo’s sudden change in mood. “You’ve got to let me see what you’re powering D.E.K.U. with.” He spun on his heel, running up to the timid robot. Bakugo halted in his steps, the babbled sentence finally catching up to him. He whirled around, eyes wide and body tensed.

“Kirishima, don’t-” Kirishima opened the panel on D.E.K.U.’s chest. His excited, grinning face morphing into confusion. Horror dawned took hold of him as Bakugo yanked him back, slamming the panel closed.

“What did I fucking say?” Bakugo growled, pinning a deadly glare on Kirishima. “I said, ‘don’t’.”

“Bakugo,” Kirishima started, voice hoarse and shaking. “Was that-”

“It wasn’t anything,” Bakugo interrupted. “Just a power source, that’s it.” He stomped away, jerking his head for D.E.K.U. to follow him.

“Bakugo, wait,” Kirishima sprinted to catch up, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around. His eyes bore into him. “Don’t tell that you’re using one,” he begged. “Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.” Bakugo stared back at him, leveled and stoic.

“So what if it is?” he hissed. Kirishima’s eyes widened, then just as quickly narrowed. He shoved Bakugo away, lips curling in a snarl.

“’So what if it is?’ That’s all you have to say for yourself? ‘So what if it is?’!” Kirishima took a threatening step closer, pointing an accusing finger at D.E.K.U. “That power source is a Life Essence. You know how much trouble you’re going to get into if someone else finds out you have that and are using it? A lifetime in the Caves, or a slow, painful death at the Arena. Bro, neither one of those are good!” He took another step closer, pained, desperate worry dripping over his face. “Why, Bakugo? Why are you using it?”

****

Bakugo looked down at the glowing, obscure green object in his hands. It was the size of a small orange, energy pouring from it, as though it were too full to contain it all, so different compared to the body it once resided in, sick and ridden with disease.

Bakugo cradled it, holding it close to his chest, the energy pulsing with his own heartbeat. A heaviness settled in his chest, a nagging voice at the back of his mind telling him that this was a mistake, that he’d done it without his permission, that he was breaking the most important promise they’d kept between themselves.

If one of us dies, we won’t take the other’s Life Essence. Let the one who died leave this world in peace, not chain them here for eternity, ok, Kacchan?

It had seemed like a foolish promise to make, one that would fade with their youth as they grew together. But life hardly went as planned. Like a sandstorm, it tore through Bakugo’s life with hardly a warning and left destruction in its wake.

He couldn’t afford to lose him. In the midst of this apocalyptic wasteland, he’d been his oasis and salvation. He couldn’t survive another day without him. It had only left him one option.

“It’s ok, Izuku,” he murmured to the glowing, misshapen orb. “I’ll get you into a new body. It’ll be better than your old one. If something doesn’t work, I’ll just get some more parts and patch you up. It’ll be easy for the best mechanic in the world.” He gave the silent object a shaky smile. He hadn’t been expecting an answer.

He walked with smooth, careful steps to a robot held in his repair station. He’d spent months on it, shaping and crating it to perfection, making it the metal likeness of someone close to his heart. He tried to keep his hands steady as he placed the orb into a divot in the robot’s chest panel. It sank in without an issue, the metal surrounding it bending and forming to its shape. Bakugo grinned, excitement rushing through him in a thrill. His hand hovered over the left switch, fingers trembling as he flipped it on. Gears and cogs spun, whirring to life as the green energy spread to the entire robot. Bakugo watched, holding his breath, fists clenched, eyes alight.

The energy reached the robot’s eyes, filling them with the green glow. The robot blinked, its visual receptors landing on Bakugo. HIs smile widened, trembling in relief. The robot blinked.

“Hello,” it spoke, voice achingly familiar, with a metallic undertone added to it. “I am D.E.K.U.” Bakugo’s smile fell, a cold panic seizing his chest.

“No,” he stepped forward, shaking his head. “No, you’re Izuku Midoriya.” The robot tilted its head, a puzzled look passing across its face.

“That is not a part of my programming,” the robot replied flatly. “I am D.E.K.U.” Bakugo tripped forward, slamming his hands onto the robot’s chest.

“No!” he screamed, voice cracking as tears rolled down his cheek. “No, no, you’re Izuku Midoriya. Izuku! You’re- you’re him! That’s who you are. You’re Midoriya!” The robot stared at him, green receptors unblinking.

“I am D.E.K.U.-”

“NO!” Bakugo’s voice tore out of his throat. His vision was blurred from the tears. His mind blanked, racing off on instinct and pure, untaintable rage. His fingers scrabbled for a purchase on the panel, nearly ripping it off. His hand enclosed on the glowing orb. He dug his nails into the cavity it was kept in, yanking and pulling on it with all his strength. The robot gave panicked whirs of noise, but Bakugo didn’t listen to it, didn’t bother to figure out what it was trying to say. He caught a hold on the orb, prying it out.

“Kacchan!” The name screamed in a virtual fear, froze every muscle in Bakugo’s body, including his brain and heart. His eyes slowly looked up, meeting wide, frightened, synthetic green ones that shouldn’t have held even half of the emotions that were running through it. Bakugo searched the eyes, looking for... something.

The robot whimpered, scared and confused. Bakugo looked back down at the misshapen orb, its glow flickering. His fingers slowly unfurled from their grasps, releasing it. Its glow steadied and grew brighter. Bakugo took a staggering step back, eyes fixated on it. The robot watched him, a mixture of worry and caution flickering through the receptors. Bakugo took another shaking step back, hands trembling.

The memories, his life, he’d almost destroyed everything that was Izuku. If the Life Essence was harmed or damaged in any way, the life inside of it was released, and could not be recaptured. He’d been so close to...

“Izuku?” he asked, voice cracking and timid. The robot formed a crestfallen expression, lowering its head in shame.

“I’m sorry,” it whispered. “I don’t know who that is.”

Bakugo’s knees slammed into the cement with a harsh thump. The tears were flowing freely now, unhindered by any other emotion than sorrow. He doubled over, clutching his shirt, right over where his heart was, and screamed until his throat was too raw to make a whisper of a sound.

Augh! Angsty again! Oh no...

I think I’d like to make this into an AU. Tell me what you all think!

I hope you all enjoyed it, thanks for reading!

#Hall-o-Week #Month-of-Wonder #bakudeku #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #kirishima eijirou #bhna #robot au #bnha au #boku no hero academia #my fic #my writing

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lapzidorus · 6 years

Text

Nothing for Nothing

Wha!? Where did everything go? Just a moment before, that car rammed straight into ours, and now it's just me, floating here in darkness stretching as far as I can see – not that I can even see my hands right in front of me because there is no light. I am still wearing my long-sleeved jacket and jeans, though, which was originally to avoid attracting too much attention. Am I dead? Is this what it’s like after you die? Am I just stuck here in eternal suspension, or is my fate still yet to come?

Something taps the edge of my shoe, and I pull my leg back out of reflex, barely holding back a gasp. I peer down and see nothing still. I reach my foot back out and feel a hard, flat surface – a wall? Or perhaps a floor to settle on! When I reach my hand over for a feel of the texture, the rest of me suddenly plops onto it. Yup, it’s a floor – a cold, though smooth one.

Relying solely on my touch, I position my hands and legs with care, taking my time with getting up. Once I'm on my feet, I tread forward slowly, reaching my hands out to feel anything in front of me. This goes on for a few minutes before my scrawny arms can’t take any more of the strain and I need to set them down. If only I had exercised more. I sink my hands into my pockets and continue walking, stopping every now and then to feel around the floor in front of me. Where am I anyway, and why is everything so dark?

Several more uneventful minutes pass by before I decide to sit and rest my tired legs, seeing no more sense in continuing. My mind has gone numb from lack of stimulation, so I might just go to sleep right here. I slip my hood on and lay my head down, doing my best to get comfortable.

Soon after, though, an assortment of crackling and crunching sounds starts up all around me. Oh, now something's happening! Well, what is it?

These noises grow slowly louder over a minute or so, bringing my ears moderate discomfort, until they abruptly end. A few seconds after that, a large, round cluster of hexagonal holes, towering at about four times my height, brightens up before me in a crystal-y green color, making me step back in surprise – and turn away in horror. Ugh, I finally see something, and it happens to trigger my mild Trypophobia! At least now I know I haven’t gone blind. What even_ _is it, anyway?

Once I can bring myself to stare fixedly at the unpleasant sight, my first observation is the source of its light: six closed-up hexagons twice their size of the others surround the edges of a deep hole. Also visible are six dark, bladed wing-like appendages protruding around its sides, and a thick tail of a similar shade that the creature appears to be standing with.

I then hear the entity speak. “Hhellloooo!” Its swaying, high-pitched voice and its jovial tone fall into an uncanny valley between welcoming and threatening, which is accentuated by the disorienting echoes that bounce randomly around us.

My mind is falling into shambles! Where am I? What am I looking at? Why are things playing out like this? Was I being watched the whole time? Oh, how stupid I probably looked! What’s going to happen next?!

Hold on! This could all just be a lucid dream; but my dreams tend to be much faster-paced than this, though. Oh wait, I was just greeted by this thing; I should probably say something too!

I manage to cough out what seems like the most appropriate question to start things out. “Wha-…who are you?”

"Ahem." The entity’s voice becomes more controlled, and the echoes settle within it. “Why, I am an overseer of sin, who keeps track of the unforgiven sins of every individual I am assigned to.”

“S-so-” I tremble at my next words. “-am I…i-in hell?”

“Nooo, not quite,” the overseer corrects as if trying to comfort me, their wings drooping down a little. “You might consider this your own personal ‘purgatory.' Every sinner has one, constructed and designed specifically for them whenever their life is put at risk."

My eyes scroll across the surrounding expanse, the only light still being the overseer’s eerie luminescence. I guess this _does _match my propensity for anxiety; just gazing into it threatens to fill me with paranoia of something jumping out at me.

The overseer continues, "Due to the exclusivity resulting from this system, we can generally only meet up with one person at a time; thus, there must be a bunch of us since many people can die at once, as you may already understand.” Way to rub it in, huh?

I turn back to the overseer. “So, w-what now?” I ask, feeling slightly more at ease knowing I am not (yet) in hell.

The overseer proceeds to slither around me as they begin, “Here, you are to reflect back on all of your unforgiven sins and confess them to me personally; this is specifically for your sake as I already know precisely what you're guilty of.”

A large larva emerges halfway out of one of the overseer’s holes, causing a squeal of fright to just barely leak out of my lips. The overseer then comes to explain, “For each valid sin you properly admit to, no matter how small, one of these little sweeties will pop out to greet you from the hole corresponding to that sin. It seems, however, that this one can already sense your fearfulness, darling.”

Yeah, I am quite the nervous wreck. “Yeah, heh heh, I do make that aspect of me clear, don’t I?”

The overseer lets out a creepy, yet also innocent-sounding little chuckle. “Now, if your self-assessment turns out to be fully accurate, you get to decide your own punishment! How does that sound, hmm? We figured if a sinner understands where they went wrong, they might know how they ought to suffer as well, so it’s the least we can offer down here, hm-hm!” They finish their circle around me, their seemingly endless tail keeping me fenced inside, and return to their original height and position.

So I can choose what happens to me? Does that mean anything so long as it’s bad? What are the rules on all of this?

“Now, as a fair warning,” the overseer notes, their tone turning a tinge more serious, “we are in full power to bestow our originally planned punishment if we deem yours unfit.” They lean forward in a rather intimidating fashion. “Do you understand?”

I nod my head in short, meek bobs. “Yes, I understand everything.”

“Alright then!” they announce with returning cheer, wings thrusted upward. “Let’s get started.”

I think it over for a bit before I know just what to say. “Okay, well…I’ve done nothing.”

The overseer’s wings flap oh-so-slightly. “What’s that, dearie?”

“I did nothing in my life to get here. What I mean by that is, I-I should’ve done stuff but didn’t. I had grown to fear the feelings and consequences of failure, defeat, and disappointment at an early age, so I never took up any tasks that weren't in my direct way like, say, obligatory school assignments, nor did I seize any social outlets. I also couldn't stand up for myself in the oddly few times I was picked on; I_ did_ learn to blend in very well, though."

The larva wriggles slightly up and down, presumably in excitement. “Very good so far,” the overseer interjects. “Now please, continue.”

As I allow my repressed feelings of guilt to resurface and guide my words, my delivery smoothens and boldens, and I begin to gently pace left and right. “Furthermore, I held back from speaking my own mind except whenever I was forced to. Even if I shared my own thoughts, though, I wouldn’t have much to say ‘cause I refrained from developing any opinions or beliefs beyond the bare necessities, if that makes any sense. On that note, I was afraid to be skeptical of things, but I was also reluctant to hold faith in them; I wouldn’t commit myself to any side or any_thing._ I became complacent, unsocial, unproductive and, quite frankly, sort of lazy.”

A second larva slinks out from a different hole while the first one thrashes about more violently. “Yes, yes, darling! Spot on!”

“My mom eventually caught on to my inactivity, however, and had me join a co-worker’s son and his friends on a trip to someplace I forget. Of course, I couldn't conjure up the strength to resist the order. They were a diverse group, though, I must admit; I probably could’ve made at least one new friend if I tried.

“Anyway, after our light at an intersection went green, the driver forgot to look both ways, and all the passengers were too busy with themselves or each other to see another driver speeding through from our left. Admittedly, though, I kind of only caught them from my peripherals myself despite my well-developed observational skills. Now, I knew I had to alert everyone in the car, but my lips clammed up; I guess a part of me winced at the supposedly unflattering image of a quiet person like myself suddenly shouting out to "Look out!", so how about we just add pride to this list, too, while we’re at it?”

At this point my guilt and shame become so overwhelming that I can't look at the overseer anymore, and instead I gaze downward with my fingers gripping my hair and face. “Augh, that would’ve been my turning point; I could’ve saved all those people and started making progress with myself, but I went and blew it, all because I was so cowardly and selfish and pathetic that I couldn’t get myself to actually talk to people or accomplish anything my entire life!”

I wipe my dampened eyes and cheeks on my sleeves and look back up at the overseer. What a mess I probably look like right now. “And now, here I am,” I sob, swinging an arm open to gesture, “pouring out my soul after it’s already too late for any more such chances. If only I became like this when it still would’ve mattered; I might've actually grown to love myself more.”

Once I've calmed down, I can see that a peculiar arthropod now rests in the central hole. Could that represent-?

“Well done, dear,” the overseer congratulates. “You’ve recapped all of your sins with perfect honesty, including the one running behind all sin: pride. Now, your newly found confidence can still serve one purpose.” They lean down in anticipation. “It’s time to choose your punishment.”

“Nothing's going to happen to me,” I answer in a weak breath of defeat, “not good or bad. What should I reap if I hadn’t sowed anything in the first place? It’s best that you just leave me here to wither out in total isolation.”

“Hmmm,” the overseer mutters in a jarringly ominous tone. “Perhaps you’re not quite as fun as I’d hoped.” They begin to back out, their tail pulling back out from around me and their light beginning to faintly flicker out. Well, here comes total darkness again.

Once the overseer vanishes from my sight entirely, those weird crunches and crackles from earlier return, this time they gradually muffling out over time until they are gone once more. A loud, but gentle ting then goes off high above my head as if for closure.

So...did I choose the right punishment? I figured they would’ve wanted a punishment that corresponded with the deed. It could be that mere isolation isn't severe or intense enough. If that’s the case then, what awaits me now, and how long do I have to wait?

My next thought makes my heart jump: perhaps the punishment has already started! They might've unleashed a demonic beast of some sort to ravage me for all eternity. Or maybe I'm doomed to forever experience unprompted jump scares with no way to brace myself for them! Oh, the stress is killing me already! I think I’ll just lie back down again; maybe the torment won’t be so terrible then.

I slip my hood back on and lay my whole body on the floor before shutting my eyes. If only I had the chance to make things right.

If only I were able to escape this crazy nightmare.

A bright light suddenly hits my eyelids. I prop myself up with my left arm and protect my eyes with my right hand, letting my hood slide off the back of my head. I note how the light is white. This isn’t a trap, is it; some scare to strike home how there's no hope of getting out? Well, whatever, then; there's really nothing left for me to lose.

I move my hand aside to see what looks like a huge gash in the supposed ceiling. This opening – and the light emanating from it – seems oddly devoid of the desolation that had enwrapped me since I got here, which I sort of sense burning away. When I stand and take a step forward, I feel my feet lift off the floor, taking me by surprise. I look down to see my blurry reflection on the floor, and half a smile cracks through one cheek. Could I really be receiving grace after death?

As I am drawn closer to the light, a soft blanket of silk envelops my body, and I close my eyes and lift my head in preparation; it looks like I am being granted salvation! No longer will I waste away my days leaving zero impact wherever I go. I can now become a lively individual who expresses thoughts and emotions in earnest, generates healthy social connections, and learns to feel legitimate love in all of it's forms!

My new life begins here!

#Full post #Afterlife #Hell #Sin #Confession #Stories #Short stories #Original stories

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