#send help ive been found out xD

[fulcrum-021]

Oooh, I have an idea! 🐑 Fake set of fic tags: puppies, backstory, defection, hurt/comfort, [character] & [character] friendship, podracing! :DDD

Aaaa omg fun!!! :O Thank you so much for the ask!!!!

For context to anyone who might not know, this is in regard to this tag game

I do apologize for how long this summary got. I've never been good at making a long story short and I kinda got inspired and wanted to set the scene. So I suppose this is one of those "snippet" kind of summaries xD I do hope you enjoy it regardless of me going a lil ham!

Fake summary:

When Agent Kallus' last Fulcrum transmission had cut out, the Rebellion feared the worst. When they fled Atollon they unknowingly left him behind, just missing the distress signal he sent out merely a few microseconds too late from his escape pod. After arriving on Yavin IV, the Phoenix Squadron tried to locate their missing Fulcrum, but to no avail. Agent Kallus was assumed to be another Rebel lost to the Empire in the battle of Atollon.

That was until half a standard year later, when Rebel command received a message signed with Agent Kallus' old code phrase. The message contained nothing but a time, date and coordinates. It was suspicious at best and most likely a trap, given that Agent Kallus' fulcrum code had most definitely been compromised at his capture. Even so, command agreed to send Zeb there on a recon mission, hoping to at least find answers on what exactly happened to their missing agent.

Now, the mission briefing had prepared Zeb for a lot of things. He had already been briefed on the Planet being located in the Outer Rim and thus had been expecting the sketchy environment of the city he found himself taking port in. What it hadn't prepared him for, was the coordinates leading to a definitely illegal animal rescue, if the hidden location and clearly fake signs were anything to go by. On the outside it had appeared like a regular (for this area) arms dealership. He was even less prepared to find their Fulcrum Agent alive and well, but trying (and failing) to reason with a rowdy group of cuddlesick puppies in the back of the facility.

As it turned out, Agent Kallus had escaped the Empire's grasp and had managed to stay hidden with the help of an old friend who he had helped escape an Imperial prison a few months prior to his own arrest. The two had apparently stayed low since, earning money to run their illegal animal rescue from podracing. Zeb had come in with the simple objective to answer one question; what happened to Agent Kallus? Now that he had the answer, he found himself facing more questions than he bargained for; Since when is Kallus a famous ex - now returned - podracer? Who the kriff is Jovan and why is he looking at Kallus like that?? And why in star's name does Agent Kallus holding a puppy make his heart beat all funny??!

But as he tries to uncover the answer to these, he's faced with yet another question - One which immediately takes precedence over any of the other ones; Is Agent Kallus really, actually okay?

[zet-sway]

big dumb turian thing for the ask game 😌

O boy you found the Shepard x Lorik Qui'in bullshit I started writing in a midnight fever dream lol

Her hand was so small against his. Her history with turians included lots of things - first aid, hand to hand combat, tactical maneuvers - hell, she'd even had some turian professors on Arcturus. But none of them had ever held her hand, fingers running over her knuckles and nails like they were a thing to wonder over. She said nothing as he turned her hand and traced the lines in her palm, a blunted talon following the pad of his fingertip.  "Your bones are much smaller than I'd imagined. Your skin is rough in some places and yet smooth in others.” He cocked his head, considering his words. “Are they injured often?" "You mean have I broken fingers before?"

I like him because he's a businessman rather than a solider, so I can make things new for him. I dunno what it is about older turian guys that just fucking does it for me sjfksdjklflksfl

[victoria1676]

If only you knew the amount of fun i had making this:

Ive been having so much fun drawing xinyan from the imposter au with the few details you discribe her with along with a little imagination for her design if you don't mind but i would also like to make a note that i was using a body sketch i found so sorry if it doesn't look like my art style i was just trying to make the body and style match i was going for match so ya that's that lol but also i believe i didn't get her tone right since i just got a pic of her full design and used her color palette to draw this so sorry if she looks to light I'm willing to redraw it since the pic of her that i used had bright lighting and ya that's a few things i wanted to say about the drawing and I hope you don't mind the little headcannons i made, tho I'm really more interested in how you veiw xinyan since she had a bit of time to show up but didn't really do much but warn aether with the letter and just dipped out and went of somewhere so I'm really excited for what you have in store for her and the rest once you finish the next chapter lol so I'll be waiting while drawing the few characters design for the future lol but feel free to state how you personally feel about this drawing since in enjoy any feed back or small stuff you'd would like to add anyway see ya lol.

(I'm slowly working on fishel since she's pretty difficult so send help)

-Anon Crow ✌️🙂

Heyo sorry i didnt see this yestersay i was busy trying to get Kazuha and finally got him! Plus a new sword for Kaeya that is now my second 5 star weapon XD Bless my friend who wished on my account 😭😭😭 The fact i also had a dream of actually getting Kazuha after thinking i couldnt get him and the DREAM WAS REAL YASSS!

Ahem- Back to the ask you sent with a fanart and can I say Im still half alseep since i just woke up but damn i didnt expect you drew Xinyan and she looks pretty cool! OwO

I did say in my story around Prologue 2 that Xinyan had her hair down since i feel like she wouldnt stick to her usual hairstyle after what happened which you guys can read it here in prologue 2 XD but i also mentioned Xinyan got her entire arm off including her elbow OwO

Still though im impressed with your design on her and she really looks amazing! You did amazing Anon Crow!! UwU tbh all i can say is positive words and if you want to redraw it you can since it is your drawing after all OwO i can understand as a fellow artists we arent satisfied what we draw so over all i am okay with your drawing but its your opinion if you want to re-draw or not XD

[tg-headcanons]

What about Shirazu's sister's illness? Can you talk about symptoms, treatment and cure? I've always been curious about, ((and I really want to write about, but my knowledge is limited to Grey's anatomy)) and I'm sorry for sending you a bunch of questions XD

ROS! I’ve been meaning to talk about my Headcanons on this! And don’t ever apologize for asks, I love them!

Humans on average have an RC count of between 200-500, when they’re healthy at least. RC cells in humans carry oxygen and help heal over wounds, but are otherwise as overlooked as any other regular bodily function. There’s problems that arise when they produce too little, RC Under Secretion, which causes anemia and slows healing but is not nearly as dangerous. ROS however is very rare and very deadly

Both humans and ghouls produce RC from their bone marrow, but only ghouls have a kakuhou. That kakuhou produces most of their RC and stores the extra that doesn’t fit in the RC pathways or bloodstream. They also have a larger RC pathway system, giving the body more space to contain them. Humans however have a small RC pathway system and no kakuhou, so if they produce more RC, it has nowhere to go

Overproduction is hereditary. If the parents have high RC the kids will likely be as high or higher. Sometimes they overproduce from birth, sometimes the overproduction gene activated after a large injury kicks the cellular reproduction system into overdrive, but whatever causes it, it’s something that needs to be monitored. It’s okay to have a count of 500, high to have a count of 800, but around 1000 is where someone is considered at risk. When it’s caught here it can be stopped, they just take some oral RC suppression supplements. Unfortunately due to artificial scarcity caused by the CCG’s monopoly on production, they’re pretty expensive and a lot of people with high RC just can’t afford it. Usually it’s fine because developing the disorder is rare, but sometimes it isn’t

Once pre-ROS develops into full blown ROS, it’s too late. It first starts causing high blood pressure, RC cells to leak into other bodily fluids, stomach upset, and eventually it starts forming a kagune cyst. You see, with so much RC and no kakuhou to contain and control it, there’s no way to tell it to stop. That cyst keeps getting bigger as more is produced, and eventually the person is weighed down and has such bad brain fog from it that they need to be hospitalized full time

Once someone has ROS, that’s it. It’s a chronic illness, there’s no way to bring RC production down once it reaches this point. It can’t be cured, only kept at bay. It could be fine but of course capitalism strikes again. The CCG’s patent on the process to produce RC suppressants is undisputed and they lie to the public about how much money and time it takes to make, so they can keep the prices high. It’s like insulin on crack, the price is completely unregulated and makes the condition more deadly than it should be.

There are some treatments, but they’re expensive too. Bone marrow transplants from people with low production, blood transfusions, but nothing that changes much. Even removing the kagune cysts doesn’t stop them from coming back

Unbeknownst to the public, there is an effective and affordable treatment, and it’s been practiced for hundreds of years in cultures where humans and ghouls got along before Europe came along and ruined it. It’s sort of like dialysis but with a living ghoul. Hook up a human with ROS’s bloodstream to a ghoul of the same RC type with some IV tubes for awhile and most of the RC will get collected in their kakuhou. Ghoul blood isn’t too harmful to humans and can be safely transplanted into them, so the process works. It’s a mutually beneficial method that helps the human keep their RC down for awhile and the ghoul get more. Sure it doesn’t cure it, but doing it once a month lets them live their lives with few symptoms

After ghouls are decriminalized and the CCG no longer has a monopoly on ghoul research, a massive breakthrough is found. The whole problem with ROS is that they don’t have a kakuhou to contain and control the cells, so just put one in! It’s an invasive surgery and a difficult process, but once it’s done, it’s gone. They can live their lives as healthy ghouls, and these days it isn’t too bad.

As you can imagine, Shirazu was pacing outside of the operating room the whole time his sister was in it, stressed out of his mind. But when she woke up fully aware and with her face already healing, he was so glad he signed off on it. All this ghoul biology still freaks him out sometimes, but his sister is healthy and happy again, and he can bond with her over learning to use their kagune

[iwrestlenow]

Many More To Die, Chapter 9

TITLE: Many More To Die (Chapter 9)

FANDOM: Sanders Sides (Necromancer AU)

SUMMARY: Logan tries to find another memory, and comes back with something bigger. Virgil opens up to Remus. More facts about the night of Logan's arrest come to light.

And Janus is definitely out to kill the necromancer--but Roman learns something unexpected when he discovers this plan.

SHIPS: Logince (Logan/Roman), Moceit (Patton/Janus) and future Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil)

WARNINGS: ...so I felt bad about the cliffhanger. >.> XD

Also, I forgot to mention in the last chapter that the words 'pari' and 'geni' were gender neutral terms I created for this world for Logan's parents. They're twisted up with Latin roots for 'parent' or 'creator' because his folks are nonbinary.

Extra apologies for this one because no beta and I just got eager and wrote this in one day. Send help. XD

NOTES: This is based on the gorgeous piece of art by @gretacticdraws that can be found here. I ended up writing a ficlet for it, and then my brain got swallowed up. Breathe at me wrong, and I’ll write more…hell, who am I kidding? I’ll write more anyway because this? Is self indulgent drivel. XD

Also located at AO3 over here.

1033, A.A.

The first thing Logan noticed when he woke was the heat. Even with all the little luxuries he earned as a well behaved prisoner, he never woke up warm.

The memories were slow to trickle back to him through the haze of sleep, gentle rain splashing against the surface of his mind.

The assassination. The Green Man. The new quarters, his first private shower in ten years—soft spun cotton lounge clothes instead of the rough, drab, ill fitting uniform of the dungeon's prisoners.

Gentle fingers filled with strength laced securely through his. Strong arms, warm skin...

Logan opened his eyes, and found himself with his face tucked against the curve of a neck. Lifting his head with great reluctance, he found himself faced with a sleeping Roman.

The beauty of it nearly stopped his heart.

Loss had stripped some light from his features, worn them around the edges and haunted his eyes, but in repose his features were smooth and unburdened. He looked younger, surreal in his serene perfection. Something about the act of watching Roman sleep felt important...precious, even familiar...

Roman stirred then, and Logan acted without thinking, reaching out to smooth his fingers through Roman's hair. It was soft against his fingers, warm and silken and he repeated the gesture just for the pleasure of feeling it.

“...'lo?...”

“Hello, Roman.”

Roman hummed, and the arm Logan only just realized was wrapped around his shoulders tightened, pulling him closer against Roman's side.

“Lo.” he murmured, more confidently this time as he opened bright green eyes. “You're here.”

“It appears I fell asleep after our discussion. Apologies.” Logan replied, but could put no real conviction into the words. Something inside him...ached in a beautiful way he couldn't give words to. He didn't know what it meant...

For just a split second, his vision blurred, and Roman was younger, smaller, dark hair lightened by too much time in the sun...

...Logan's mind grew fuzzy again, but not with sleep. He recognized the feeling now, the haze of magic that let him reconnect to Virgil, to a fragment of his past...

The Loom of Memory. Roman spoke about it last night, telling his stories about them as friends—as kindred spirits.

“Logan?...”

Logan shifted to lay on his back, reaching for Roman's hand.

“Virgil restored one of my memories through a piece of personal magic I embedded in an object of power.” he explained, speech slurring just a little as his eyes grew heavier. “If...you took part in a ritual to give me...my power...”

“The Warping.” Roman murmured, rolling on his side. Gripping Logan's fingers tight, he looked down into Logan's face. Something about it tugged at the back of Logan's chest, something that was pulling him back into darkness again.

He could fight the pull. He did not try.

Gripping Roman's hand tight, Logan let his eyes shut.

“Hold on...do not let go.”

As he sank, Logan distantly felt warm lips brush his forehead.

“I never have. I never will.”

********** ...threads. Everywhere, itching, brushing, bothersome. This time, he pulled away from them, just a little. He flexed his fingers, and the shuttle was there, secure in his grip.

He tried to concentrate on seeing it this time. Pulling back, stepping away.

…there.

The loom was massive, the warp glowing softly with a gentle radiance that begged to be touched. Running his fingers over it, Logan sighed with pleasure—warm and whisper soft beneath his fingers, spreading through his hand and up his arm to settle in the core of his being....but loose.

The warp was too loose. Just a little tension was needed for a neat, tight weave.

Logan reached out to try and tighten the warp, but...something was wrong.

“...Logan?”

Who's there?

“Logan, it's me.”

...oh. I...

“Do you need help?”

I—I think so. I don't understand what's happening.

“It's okay—to be honest, I didn't understand then and I still don't. Just take what you need.”

I'll be careful this time.

“Don't worry about it. Just...don't leave me.”

I promise. In fact...will you stay?

“Stay? I...is that all right?”

I do not know—but there's only one way to find out. Help me, if you can.

He tugged gently at the thread—this time, it came smooth and easy. It was hard to do still—simply because it was so distracting, the ecstasy of handling it, letting the warp slide through his fingers and tug sweetly as he secured it to the loom—

When he was done, when it was ready...Logan set to work.

********** 1023, A.A.

Logan was so warm and so comfortable, he never wanted to wake up...but he knew he had to, for some reason.

Opening his eyes with a yawn, he turned his head—then grinned when he realized that Roman stayed.

There was something about seeing him in Logan's bedroom that felt secret and special: Roman, his Roman, with his face half buried in Logan's pillow and mouth slightly open as he slept. It wasn't a pretty sight: he drooled just a little, and he was laying on Logan, one arm and one leg thrown across his body, something he usually hated...

But Logan could feel his weight, his warmth. He was messy and heavy and too much...and he was tucked into Logan's bed, his fingers meshed tight through Logan's to rest on Logan's chest. This handsome prince, this good and loving and dangerously earnest boy that wanted with a ferocity that scared and dazzled Logan, eluded palace guard and the king himself just to help him. Just to stay.

Roman was everything good and just and right in the world. However, Roman was also two years older than him, he was royalty—and Logan was Necromata.

Secret and special was all Logan was ever going to get.

Staring into Roman's sleeping face for a few more precious seconds, he tucked the memory away somewhere safe in his mind and his heart before he gently squeezed Roman's hand.

“Roman?”

“Nnnnngh.”

“Roman. It's morning.”

“Nnnngh—guh? What?”

Roman came awake abruptly, and Logan's heart trembled at the muzzy confusion in his face. It made him want confusing, unattainable things, so Logan settled for smiling.

“It's morning. Sunrise—are you still okay?”

Roman nodded with a jaw cracking yawn, further upsetting Logan's already fragile, confusing state of mind by tucking himself forward until their foreheads touched. “Yeah, 'm fine. Remus'll cover for me 'till at least after breakfast. You?”

Unable to stop himself, Logan tucked their joined hands against his chest for a second, sealing the feel of it as deep as he could into his memory as he nodded. “Grandpap won't be back until tomorrow, and Pari lets me skip my morning chores if I'm studying.”

“Which you are, technically.” Roman pointed out with a smile, staring into Logan's eyes.

“Falsehood. I'm laying about in bed.”

Roman seemingly had no answer for that, and didn't respond—but also didn't move.

Logan couldn't bring himself to urge him into action.

“Where did we leave off last night?”

“Hmm?”

“The geneaology. How far did we get?” Roman pressed gently, a laugh in his voice that made Logan's heart tremble again.

Taking a deep breath, Logan managed to pry himself from the sanctuary of his spot tucked into the curve of Roman's body. Sitting up, he reached for the last book they'd been reading through before they gave up their research for sleep.

“We got as far back as King Thomas Cameron IV—the one who married the first Lord and Lady Stewards.” Logan explained, flipping to the right page. “They reorganized the line of succession for same sex and polyfidelitous families within the royal house of Sanders.”

“Right, right...Lady Valerie was the great granddaughter of Sir Edward, fifth cousin of King Thomas Roman I.” Roman mumbled, sitting up to peer at the book in Logan's hands. “Least the stories say.”

Logan fought a swelling of frustration as he flipped ahead a few pages. “Most of these are stories. Stories, lore, and speculation. There's no proof here—and there are a lot of missing records, which I find strange for a royal lineage.”

“Well, Father had some records sealed for privacy.” Roman admitted. “That's how I knew about Sir Edward. He was a mage of some power, but his family withdrew from the monarchy generations ago. They're no longer part of the line of succession, so their presence exists only in the Tomes.”

Logan hesitated, shutting the book in his hands. “The mage's histories? The ones kept at the Royal Academy library?”

“Yep—well, most of them.”

Logan looked at Roman sharply. “What do you mean, most of them?”

Roman's eyes went wide as he froze. Logan's pulse quickened.

“Roman? What do you know?”

Roman looked, for a moment, like he wanted to bolt...but then took a deep breath, gathered Logan's hands in his, and began speaking.

********** 1033, A.A.

Logan's eyes snapped open as the Loom dropped abruptly away, leaving him with an ache in the marrow of his bones and a chill he couldn't quite dispel. As he sat up, warm arms immediately encircled him, tucking him against a wall of fire that eased the chill and soothed the hurt away.

“Logan? Say something—are you all right?”

For a second, Logan just leaned into him and shut his eyes. It wasn't complete, vague and nebulous and full of holes, but a new memory was hanging loose in his head, barely attached. He could almost picture the room, a few snatches of conversation...but the feeling was the only part he was sure of.

Secret and special...good and right...

I loved him.

“Logan, please. What happened?”

Logan pressed his forehead against Roman's collarbone for just one more second, the sweet pulse of longing rippling through his bones, igniting an energy that was alien to him.

I love him.

“I am satisfactory.” he assured Roman, slowly straightening. He reached up to rub his head. “I...slept here last night?”

Roman nodded, his hand settling on Logan's shoulder, warm and heavy. “You don't remember waking up?”

“I...maybe? I was...the Loom.”

“You entered that trance again—you asked for my help, and I gave it. Like I did during your Warping, but this time my hand was glowing—like the last time you were channeling. You wanted to reconstruct a memory, did you succeed?”

Logan nodded, then shook his head.

Books...Grandpap...sun bleached hair, a special and secret cocoon in his childhood bed.

Flinching, Logan fumbled for Roman's hand, ripping it off his shoulder and squeezing hard.

“Roman.”

“I'm here, Starlight—what do you remember?”

“I...don't know. Just—my brother.”

“Virgil's not here.”

“I have to find him. Now.”

********** Virgil was going on twenty four hours wide, staring awake, and wasn't enjoying it.

Well...much.

Reluctantly following the crown prince through the lower levels of the castle, he hated to admit that for all his crazy, Prince Remus was kind of a fascinating guy. He was smart, yeah, but—more than that.

He was brilliant, in a way that was frightening. He babbled with barely any coherence, went off on tangents, talked to himself, but there wasn't a single wasted word. He talked about his brother with perfect devotion, discussed violence with absolute reverence, and spoke about death like...

Like he was Necromata. In between the stories he shared during the night—stories about Roman's secrets, three years of carrying on an ilicit friendship with Logan—he went off about Virgil's people with a flawless understanding of who they were and what they were about.

All while revealing, with all his stolen knowledge, that he didn't know jack shit about them. Everything he ever learned was heresay and speculation, but...but through the stories he saw the foundation. Remus was a quintessential outsider, but the respect he showed for the Necromata made Virgil ache inside.

Fuck, Remus actually gave him a little hope for the future.

“This way—this is where I found Roman after it happened.”

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Virgil jogged to catch up with Remus. “We don't have a lot of time, Remus—Logan is supposed to try and resurrect your father this morning.”

“Yeah, yeah—we have an hour, I know.”

“Two.”

“What?”

“Two. The sun will be well above the horizon then—doesn't do anyone any favors to be too prompt when it comes to making sure the Barrier is closed, unless you want to end up with someone else in your father's body.”

Remus glanced at Virgil over his shoulder—then snickered.

“Could be funny.” he decided, ushering Virgil ahead of him. “Through this door—this is where I found Roman the night your brother was arrested.”

“Where was he? I never realized he was anywhere near us when we got caught.” Virgil huffed, shoving the filthy, heavy wooden door open to emerge into a dingy stone tunnel.

“Before this castle had lower levels beneath this one, this was meant to be a sewer.” Remus explained as Virgil took a few more steps into the tunnel. “It's on some early plans for the palace, but hardly anyone remembers it's here. I got nosy when I was six and found it—Roman and I have used this to get in and out of the palace undetected since we were little.”

“He must've told Logan.” Virgil muttered, peering up at the grate overhead. Above him, through the bars he could see scattered straw—the inside of an empty dungeon cell. “That's how he got us in here.”

“You were here that night?”

Virgil turned to face Remus, smiling a little without any humor in it. “He didn't tell you about that, huh?”

Remus shook his head in silence.

Virgil scoffed, turning his gaze upwards again.

“Not all that surprised. Hell, maybe he didn't know I was here, either. I wasn't supposed to be...truth be told, I was always certain that I was the reason Logan got arrested. It's why I tried to get him out.”

“What were you, four years old? What were you doing here, and how could you have been behind it?”

“I was nine.” Virgil replied quietly, unable to tear his gaze from the grate of the cell above him.

“And I was here because a Weaver needs his Spider.”

********** 1023, A.A. The tunnel was absolutely terrifying—dark and wide and squat. Grandpap would have to double over to walk through it, big as he was.

Virgil did not want to be here. He wanted to be home in bed with his blanket, listening to Grandpap's bedtime stories about the Before Times and the wicked king that was slain, plunging their tribe into eternal darkness.

Logan was here, though—and a Spider had to stand with his Weaver. Protecting Logan was his responsibility now, and he couldn't let his big brother down.

“...find the book in the office...”

Voices, up ahead. Echoes carried down towards him, making Virgil flinch hard enough that he stumbled and fell.

Silence. More voices, garbled and echoing...

A hand on his collar, dragging him to his feet.

“Virgil, what in the name of the Seven Hells are you doing here!”

When Virgil landed upright, he came face to face with the shadowed features of his big brother, blue eyes glimmering in the barely there light.

“What are you doing here, Logan?” Virgil shot back. “You snuck out without me! You're 'posed to bring me on important stuff, I'm your 'Pider!”

Logan spun around, as if he were about to address someone—but then froze. His shoulders hunched the way they always did when he forgot to thank the spirits of the ancestors at his altar every morning, nervous and unhappy.

Turning back to Virgil, Logan narrowed his eyes.

“This isn't Weaver stuff, Stormcloud, so you can't tell anyone. Especially not Grandpap.”

“I swear on the 'Pider's Thread, Loganberry.”

Taking a deep breath, Logan nodded. “Okay...okay, you can come. You'll actually be helpful to find...never mind. Just do as I say, and don't ask questions. I can't answer them?”

“Why?”

Logan raised a warning finger at him.

“Don't. Ask. Questions.”

Virgil slammed his mouth shut, but didn't argue as Logan took his hand and led him down the tunnel and into the palace of the king.

********** 1033, A.A.

“What part of the palace did you hit?” Remus asked.

Virgil shrugged. “Not sure. It was dark, I was nine and terrified...I've tried to track it since I enlisted, but haven't had much luck. All I know is it was somewhere in the lower levels 'cause that's how I found the tunnel and got away. Wasn't near the dungeons either, not really—when we got caught, Logan steered me towards a lit, open door. It was some kind of office, and I found an open grate that led me to it.”

Virgil faced Remus again, pointing upwards. “This is under the dungeons, but you said this was where you found Roman after Logan's arrest?”

“Yup.” Remus replied, popping the 'p' sound at the end. “Near the end of this particular tunnel, down here.”

Virgil glanced behind him, in the direction Remus pointed, Turning back to the prince, he jerked his chin in that direction.

“Let's go.”

The pair fell into step beside each other, easily matching pace. Remus was a little taller than Virgil, so he was slowing down to let him keep up. Virgil didn't appreciate it.

He didn't.

“You know, Roman didn't help you get in here. I did.”

Virgil turned sharply towards him. “You're fucking with me.”

“Identical twins? In a poorly lit room, you can't make out the streak and the 'stache, Sweet Cheeks.”

“But...why?”

“Because you were trying to help your brother, and mine couldn't. Help you, that is.”

“Why couldn't he? Why did he admit to doing it?” Virgil asked.

“Did he actually admit to anything last night?” Remus asked with a raised eyebrow.

Virgil opened his mouth...then closed it.

“Not outright, no.” he realized aloud. “But why couldn't he help?”

“Virgil!”

The sound of that voice, echoing off the walls of the tunnel, was a flashback in time. For an instant, Virgil was nine and terrified again, being led into Souls Knew What by his big brother...running for his life and trying not to choke on his sobs, knowing he'd left his big brother to die.

Spinning on his heel, Virgil found himself faced with the sight of the tunnel's end where he and Remus had been heading anyway. The door was open, and Logan stood side by side with the familiar figure of King Roman.

At least, until Logan bolted forward, barreling towards Virgil until he had a death grip on him.

“Unghf! Loganberry, you're...crushing me...”

“He panicked as soon as we got down here.” Roman explained, raising his voice to be heard as he jogged towards them. “He's been off since he woke up earlier. He tried to reconstruct a memory...”

Virgil sighed, wrapping his arms around Logan for a second to give him a comforting squeeze before he shifted to reach for Logan's hand.

“C'mere, Loganberry...lemme help you...”

The moment their fingers meshed, Virgil felt the pull on his consciousness—Logan drawing on his focus, pulling raw thought from his head that sent his awareness of his surroundings spiraling into a pinpoint.

Virgil's eyes slid shut, his head lolling back in familiar fashion—but this time, before the darkness took him, warmth flooded the base of his skull and softened his tumble into oblivion.

********** “Hey—hey! Wake up, Storm!”

“Remus.”

Roman watched his brother stand beside the silent cadet, one hand on his shoulder and the other cradling his head, supporting him as he half sagged where he stood. There was a look in his eyes Roman wasn't sure he'd ever seen before, something like panic...but not quite.

It was familiar...but fuzzy.

Moving to his brother's side, Roman touched his shoulder.

“He's all right, Remus.”

“How do you know?”

“Because this is what familiars do. I've...seen it before.”

Roman blinked, startled by the words that came out of his mouth—but once he said them, he knew it was true. He had seen it before...somewhere among Logan's people, but where?...

“What are you four doing down here?”

Roman looked back towards the direction Remus and Virgil had come from, flinching when he spotted Janus at the end of the tunnel with Patton at his side.

“Lord Janus? Pat—what are you doing here?” he asked, moving towards the pair.

“I came 'cause Janny asked me to.” Patton replied, staring past Roman to where Logan and Virgil stood, deep blue eyes filled with worry. “What's goin' on? Janny?...”

With a sigh, Janus discreetly slid a hand up Patton's spine, only just visible as yellow gloved fingertips appeared near his nape then vanished with a soft whisper of leather on fabric.

“Go, darling. See if you can help.” Janus urged.

Reaching behind him, Roman saw Patton catch the gloved hand and squeeze before he hurried down the tunnel towards the trio of Remus, Logan, and Virgil.

Facing Janus, Roman folded his arms. “You didn't answer my question.”

Janus glanced past Roman, seemingly unable to tear his gaze from Patton for a long moment before he finally managed to set his gaze on Roman.

“I'm an assassin. I'm not supposed to tell you why I do anything, Your Majesty.” Janus pointed out.

“So you're here to kill someone?”

Janus sneered, mouth setting into a thin, tight line.

“If you must know,” he growled quietly, “I came here to kill the necromancer.”

Roman's heart froze, blood running cold.

“No, you're not.”

“Majesty? Get your hands off me. Now.”

Roman blinked, not even realizing that he'd backed Janus up against the nearby wall, and to his shock had a hand wrapped around his scaled throat.

“Give me a reason why I should.” he asked flatly. “You'll have a harder time getting to the necromancer if you have to stop and kill me first.”

“Oh, for the love of—I'm here to kill the necromancer, not your pet prisoner!”

“I...what?”

“The necromancer that assassinated your father and is trying to assassinate you.” Janus spat, finally shaking Roman's grip so he could straighten his cloak.

“I...don't understand.”

Janus finally tugged the clasp of his cloak straight, and when he met Roman's gaze, his own mismatched eyes were filled with something far warmer than any man might expect to see in the eyes of a spy like him.

Janus was looking at him with sympathy.

“Your Majesty...Logan may be one of the Necromata, but he is not a necromancer.” he whispered.

“Of course he is! He--”

“--may have been a necromancer once upon a time, but he isn't any longer. The root of necromancy is memory—with no memory, he should have no magic. No mere necromancer can beat the Cleansing that way, it's impossible.”

“Then...?”

Roman turned away from Janus to stare down the tunnel. He watched Virgil and Logan both slowly come to their senses, Logan opening ice blue eyes as Virgil started to straighten, supported by both Remus and Patton.

Over Virgil's shoulder, Logan's gaze met Roman's, and for just a moment those gemstone eyes flickered with the soft, blue-white light of his magic.

Janus's voice spoke right next to his ear, shaking him to his core.

“Logan is not a necromancer, Your Majesty...he's a Lazari.”

[intricate-oeuvre]

On how to be deadly || Geralt of Rivia || part IX

Word count: 2.9k+

Summary: Axelia is Witcher experiment herself and has gone through same harsh Trials as Geralt, but she wasn’t so lucky with the outcome. Her vision didn’t become better. Therefore, she was rendered blind in the end. And because of that, she solely uses her Witcher senses to make her ways. Only potions can give her false sense of sight for limited time.Somewhere along the way she meets the Rivian. Who’s interested to know how she’s been killing monsters and hasn’t been killed herself yet.

Warnings: BLOOD, that’s it, maybe angst

A/N: I have fucking awesome fighting scenes in my head, cant put them on paper tho, Imma visualiser not a writer xD

part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue

“I—what?” Ciri looked at Axelia as witcheress stood up.

“You’re destiny.” Axelia mumbled again.

“Destiny? As in I can do... what?” Ciri got up as well, her uneasy glance sliding to Jaskier for a second.

“You could change whatever is happening between me and Geralt.” Axelia explained.

“You don’t know that yet.” Jaskier reminded her.

“Maybe she’s not the destiny that mage was talking about.” Jaskier continued.

“Mage? What?” Ciri was getting more and more confused. So, Jaskier took responsibility and explained to her what, all that Axelia had said, had meant. Meanwhile, Axelia was pacing back and forth. Jaskier’s eyes skipping to her occasionally, just to make sure that she-witcher doesn’t hyperventilate.

“You choose the love of your life, but you have no saying in choosing your soulmate.” Axelia murmured to herself, pointing to invisible things to rearrange thoughts in her head.

And it took some time to explain everything and answer all the questions that Ciri had asked.

“You need to go.” Axelia mumbled when it was starting to get dark.

“You’re staying here?” Ciri quirked eyebrow at her. Axelia only hummed. In a similar way that Geralt did, thus making Ciri look at Jaskier, who only sent her ‘see I told you’ look in return.

“You can come with us; I am sure that we can find you a place to stay.” Ciri continued.

“Thank you, but I’ll pass on that. I need some time alone. And besides I have job to do here.” Axelia said standing up and putting back on her forearm braces.

“Are you sure?” Jaskier asked as he picked up her cloak and putted it around her shoulders.

“You know that I can take on that monster.” Axelia said, sending appreciative look towards the bard for putting on her cloak.

“No, not the monster part. You know…” Jaskier trailed off.

“Oh. I’m… fine.” Axelia sighed.

“What kind of monster?” Ciri asked, waiting for Jaskier now, so they both could leave Axelia to her own devices.

“Ghouls. They say they are at the old crypts. Where all the war-heroes lay.” Axelia shrugged towards Ciri.

“You got everything you need to fight them?” Ciri asked, just to make sure.

“Got my silver sword.” Axelia nodded and tapped the hilt of it on her back. “Thank you for bring it back.”

“Of course. Silver is expensive these days.” Ciri shrugged and her eyes impatiently landed on the bard next to Axelia.

“Go. I don’t have all night to fight. I need to move.” Axelia turned back to Jaskier.

“Stay safe.” He mumbled quietly to her.

“You know I am witcher. Being safe is not my forte.” Axelia sent him a small smile.

“You just live for the danger.” He sighed and pulled her in for the last hug.

“I find thrill in it.��� She corrected him, basking in his hug as she murmured into his chest.

“Will I see you again?” Jaskier whispered.

“Most likely, no.” Axelia hummed in his shirt, letting calm wash over her. She was done with this. Not sure if Ciri was the destiny that was needed to fix the slanted fates.

“Then I wish you wholly good luck.” Jaskier pulled away a little to look down at her.

“Thank you. For every little thing you have done to me and for me.” Axelia smiled softly at him.

“With pleasure.” Jaskier nodded at her, and pressed a soft kiss to her temple.

“Can you give this to Geralt?” Axelia turned to Ciri before she had time to leave.

“Yeah.” Ciri took hold of the black tulle blindfold that Axelia was extending towards her and tied the fabric around the hilt of her sword that was sitting snuggly on her back.

“He hates it.” Axelia smirked at her and then bid them farewell as she made har way deeper in the woods.

***

“So, she has been your soulmate all this time and you didn’t think of telling me?” Yennefer was standing with her hands crossed on her chest. Geralt was sitting and only slightly rolled his eyes at her comment but didn’t answer, feeling, rather, knowing, that she was about to continue.

“And you two have been having these run-ins occasionally?” She raised her eyebrow at him.

“You know I didn’t choose for that to happen.” Geralt defended.

“You have a tendency to not choose for things to happen to actually happen.” Yennefer grunted. Witcher was pretty sure she was making reference about Ciri.

“You have problem with Axelia?” Geralt asked with tilt of his head.

“Yes. After all that dragon hunt, we really don’t see eye to eye. And now she’s here. Saying that she has some claim over you. That does not really help me with handling things between us, Geralt.” Yennefer tried to reason.

“Claim? She hasn’t claimed anything. No one has.” Geralt explained, growing more irritated with Yen by the second.

“Don’t you love me?” Yennefer huffed turning away. Geralt wasn’t really looking for all this drama. His mind was still occupied with thoughts of the girl that was still somewhere in the woods.

“Yen…” Geralt hummed. “You know that—"

In that moment Ciri walked in with Jaskier.

“Did we interrupt something?” Jaskier asked, looking between Geralt and Yennefer.

“No.” Geralt answered.

“Yes.” Yennefer said at the same time. Geralt’s eyes slid to Yen, low-key challenging for her to shut up.

“Me or her. You choose.” Yennefer gave him ultimatum, with dissatisfied pout.

The silence took over the room.

Geralt was looking at Yennefer with disbelief written all over his features as his mouth fell open.

Jaskier gulped at her sentence, his eyes sliding to Ciri briefly, almost asking her if they shouldn’t leave the room to these two who were at each other’s throats. And Ciri had the same thought as Jaskier and with uncomfortable clear of her throat she rolled her shoulders, making the tulle around the hilt of her sword swing as if caught in a breeze. Movement catching Geralt’s attention. With furrowed eyebrows he looked at Ciri, waiting for the explanation.

“She told me to give this to you.” Ciri whispered quietly as she reached to untie it. Girl’s eyes momentarily flicking to Yennefer, gauging her reaction. Geralt took hold of it and turned it over in his hands. Axelia’s scent hit his nose. Her real scent and not the one he could smell coming from Jaskier. He didn’t want to dwell on the fact as to why the bard was drenched in her smell. Not the first time. Geralt knew that she trusted Jaskier, and so did Ciri. Except for Yennefer, she always had some enmity with Jaskier and vice versa.

“Well? I’m waiting.” Yennefer tapped her foot on the ground. Geralt stood up from where he was sitting and walked up to Ciri, tying the tulle back around the hilt of her sword.

“Where is she?” Geralt asked Jaskier.

“The old crypt.” Bard explained.

“And the monster?” Witcher’s eyes flickered back to Ciri.

“Ghouls.” Ciri explained looking at Geralt.

“No. Not any ghouls.” Geralt grunted and picked up his own sword from the table and secured it on his back.

“What do you mean?” Jaskier narrowed his eyes at him.

“Alghouls.” Geralt said grimly.

“And she only had silver sword with her.” Ciri stated, getting along the train of thought of the witcher.

“Fuck.” Geralt said displeased and sent a look at Yennefer over his shoulder before he went outside.

“Geralt, you didn’t answer!” sorceress called after him, making Geralt stop in his tracks.

“I think he made his choice.” Jaskier dared to answer for his friend.

“Hmm.” Witcher hummed deeply and went to get Roach and head for the crypts.

Yennefer was left there stunned.

“Jaskier.” She hissed at the bard.

“What? I think that was pretty obvious.” Bard answered.

Ciri looked at Yennefer, then her eyes slid at the back of her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the tulle around the hilt of the sword. Her mind drifted back to Axelia, or whatever she had met at the forest. Ciri had never met a female witcher, nor she ever thought that there was one. Geralt never really mentioned her. Yes, he had said that there was this fierce and loyal to the bone warrior that he had pleasure to meet and fight alongside, but he never told Ciri her name nor who she was. But Ciri had deciphered enough from his speeches to understand that this girl was important to him. He never really had talked about Yennefer in the same way. Of course, Yen was like mother to Ciri, but there was something oddly similar to Axelia and her.

Ciri had found herself a new loving family. She only hoped that Axelia could find love again.

“Ciri?” questioned Yennefer, wanting to hear whatever Ciri had to say about this ordeal.

 “Geralt didn’t choose Axelia as his soulmate, they were made to be like that. As for you and him, I—” Ciri was trying to find the words so that she wouldn’t offend Yennefer.

“You chose each other.” Jaskier stated. “Their meetings are unavoidable. And Geralt will go after her even if you say no, they will never stop finding each other as much as you would hate it, Yennefer. You may love him, and he may love you, but they are undividable. Geralt is hers, and Axelia will always be his.” Bard dared to tell the sorceress the truth.

Yennefer let out a deep, irritated sigh through her nose.

“We better go.” Ciri looked at Jaskier instead. She had no saying in this, whatever she would say would not change a thing. She already had done whatever that mage had told Axelia.

And Ciri hoped that she was that destiny that was needed to make the fates less slated.

Meanwhile Geralt was hoping that alghouls haven’t eaten Axelia alive.

***

Dread had settled deep in her gut, when Axelia had realized that they were not ghouls but to be more precise- alghouls. She had thought that she’ll need to fight off only couple of ghouls, but here she was slicing and dicing ghoul after ghoul as the bigger alghouls were slowly coming closer to her. The latter being more aggressive and more challenging than regular ghoul. With untrained eye one could not tell the difference between two, but Axelia knew enough.

She knew that alghouls had more wit than regular ghoul and then she decided to go after alghouls first. Maybe if she’s lucky, she’ll kill the leader of the pack and thus weaken it all. For whatever Axelia held holy she prayed that there were no cemetaurs.

And when all the smaller ghouls suddenly scattered wherever, Axelia knew that her prayers have been pointless.

“Shit!” she hissed, slicing another alghoul with her silver sword. How could she have been so dumb and not pack any white vinegar with her. Her hand run along her belt, in a search for a potion that could actually help her.

“Shit! Really?!” she hissed when she couldn’t find Black Blood potions nowhere on her belt. Had it fallen out while she was fighting Geralt? For fucks sake, now she was really doomed. With angry scream Axelia, planted her feet one in front of another and quickly made her way towards the cemetaur. Now all she had was her trusty silver sword, and a hope that this wasn’t her last fight.

With swooping motions, she raised the silver blade above her head and slashed down the side of cemetaur’s hand. Her movement seamlessly flowing in wide pirouette as she cut down three ghouls behind herself. With sure and certain steps, she rounded the cemetaur, while with slashing cuts killed ghouls and alghouls left and right. And whenever she had a clear chance at stabbing, wounding and gnashing at the monster, she took it. Couple of times stumbling because ghouls were grabbing her feet and trying to knock her down. Just to get on top of her and rip at her flesh.

Her figure seemed to get bloodier and bloodier by every cut she made. Be it her own blood that was running down from her busted lip and nose. Or be it from the monsters that she tried to cut down so desperately. But it seemed that they were taking over, and even might feast on the flesh of an unlucky witcher for a change. Axelia wasn’t afraid of death or dying. But she had wanted to live a little longer. Maybe clean up her own messes.

As she raised the sword to her side to strike the monster form below and up it’s middle, monster seemed to realize her movement and moved quicker. With it’s huge hand it struck Axelia in her jaw, making her stumble back and tip on a dead alghoul. Her silver sword flying somewhere to the side.

“Shit!” she screamed as necrophages leaped at her, to get the fresh meat first.

“Fuck no!” She yelled and elbowed one in it’s face, gaining a split second to roll on her stomach and crawl for her sword. But she was stopped by the sudden pain in her shin. Looking at her leg, he saw that alghoul had itself attached to her leg, trying to bite it off. With a grunt, she kicked it in its head with her other foot. Noticing all the creatures leaping closer like hungry wretched dogs, she pulled out her dagger and sliced three of the smaller ghouls, but since it was no silver, she got nothing from it, only gnash at her abdomen. Either they all pranced at her and eat her while she’s still alive or she’ll bleed out, faster than she’d like to admit.

This was it.

She was trying to rid herself of all the monsters, but as one fell, another came in it’s place. Not to mention the cemetaur that was still rounding her and waiting for the right moment to jump on her. Axelia saw it finally move towards her, she tried to reach for her silver sword again. As she felt it’s repulsive breath on the back of her neck, she suddenly was pulled back by her limbs from underneath the monster. She screamed again, not sure at first who was pulling at her legs. As she quickly sat up, dagger in her hand ready to strike, someone placed a glass potion bottle in her bloody hands.

“Drink.” Came Geralt’s deep voice as he raised his own silver sword and expertly sliced at the cemetaur. Axelia pulled out the cork with her teeth and emptied the content of the bottle. The taste hitting her tongue and back of her throat. She hissed at the bitterness. Black Blood potion. Next few hours her blood will be poisons to whoever dared to feast on it. Then her eyes and veins and blood vessels around them turned black. Her skin almost seemingly translucent because of it. Her body was fighting the high toxicity. At least this was a plan B, for a moment.

Her eyes scanned surroundings briefly and with painful grunt she pushed herself up. Stumbling and cutting at alghoul she made her way for her silver sword. For a second she couldn’t sense it. Had it fell in some old grave? Even in this spilt second of confusion, a monster had made it’s way behind her.

“Left!” Geralt called at her and she looked at him. Next second her own silver sword was hurling through air, and swiftly she ducked to her right, as the sword lodged itself in the head of the monster, right above her shoulder. Turning and pulling her sword out of the dead monster, Axelia continued to twirl and gnash at the monsters. And the only sounds in the otherwise peaceful night, was sounds of swords cutting flesh, monster screeches and roars, and the heavy grunts and breathes that Axelia and Geralt let out.

At some point with all the monsters trying to get meat of the living, Axelia and Geralt ended up almost fighting back to back. And as finally the count of ghouls and alghouls seemed to drop, the cemetaur turned more aggressive. Axelia seemed to have locked ger gaze on one alghoul, the last she was about to kill that night, adrenaline being the only thing keeping her upright. But as she was distracted by it, she didn’t notice that Geralt had killed last two ghouls somewhere in front of her or the fact that cemetaur had chosen her as it’s first meal.

“Axelia!” Geralt’s eyes grew big, as he run to her, slicing the head off of the alghoul she was trying to kill from it’s behind. Next second Geralt was impossibly close to her. His right hand with his silver sword going above her left shoulder and wedging it in cemetaur’s throat. His left hand pulling Axelia’s sword from her hand, and with quick, skilled hand movement, her sword ended up in his now empty right hand, as he lodged it in the stumbling monster’s scull. Cemetaur falling dead right behind Axelia.

Silence.

Nothing but the cold night and their heavy breathing.

Axelia stood there, her chest pressed against his, frozen. Not moving. Her mind racing to try and catch up with everything that just happened. Geralt took a step back from her, his own jet-black gaze trained on nothing in particular somewhere behind Axelia.

“You could be dead.” Geralt hissed at her. Insulting retort went over her head, she blinked but didn’t answer. Bruises and wounds finally making themselves know on her tired body.

“I think I’m gonna pass out…” Axelia mumbled, her stance wavering as her eyes seemed empty and her shoulders slumped down.

“Now?” Geralt asked, his eyes finally turning to her. Axelia didn’t answer, her eyes fluttered shut and she fell towards him. With displeased grunt he caught her effortlessly in his hands.

part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue

~~~

tags:  @boiled-onionrings​​​​ @fandomwithnolifesblog​​​​ @901seconds​​​​ @kingniazx​​​​ @shesakillerkween @your-dreams-are-strong​​​​ @stitchattacks​​​​ @ayamenimthiriel​​​​ @stormfire6​​​​ @mr-illegal-king​​​​ @stretchkingblog97​​​​ @mikariell95​​​​ @geralt-of-motherfucking-rivia​​​​ @martian-m​​​ @republicansithlord​​​​ @notso-fetch​​​​ @lizliz3107​​​​ @godlydolans​​​​ @arsaky-lou​​​​ @eternallyvenus​​​​ @le-reina-asesina @alwayshave-faith​​​​ @writingmi​​​​ @staringmoony​​​​ @kenai731 @holychic​​​​ @dramaticturnaway​​​​ @ihopeyousteponarosepetal​​​​ @seouldesire​​​​ @runs-with-sciss0rs @yes-captainstark​​​​​ @fandomhell97​​​​​ @newtdisneywho​​​ @ekaymnslvs​​​ @deansbbysblog​​​ @hoppelessdreamer @dejewskoo​​​ @sleepy-bunnie​​​ @strangerliaa​​​ @puffedchoco

[autumn-foxfire]

Ive had such a rollecoaster with my feelings on bnha since i started reading it. Like i started out really liking it and than slowly grew somewhat disillusioned with it, my love for the manga droping to its lowest at the begining of endeavors redemption arc.

This was where i was most critical of hori, both of the redemption arc n other things such as his mistreatment of the girls and the fact that in family of four abuse victims the two that called out the abuser n reacted with refusal or hessitation were boys while the two that reacted passivly and with acceptence were the girls. It really left me feeling like hori was sending this messege that it was ok to abuse women they'll forgive you but if you abuse men there will be concequences. I think i was pretty close to villain stan logic then despite never really caring that much about villains. I hated endeavor redemption not just because at that point i was so trained to belive abuser redemption would be snapshot n badly handled but also cuz i really liked the set up of a hero being bad n i said it could be used really well to show how villains can be good as an opposite. That the world wasnt exactly black n white. I was furious with hori cuz to me he seemed to ruin his own story. This was the time where i openly stated i didnt enjoy bnha as bnha n that i mostly enjoyed the world n the characters.

I think my enjoyment started returning around the todoroki household visit. I remember feeling surprised cuz...it was well written. It was respectful and didnt excuse endeavor at all and didnt push anyone to forgive him. I was genuinly positivly surprised and this was when my opinion on endeavor arc started turning. I stopoed thinking less in thems of bnha having this idea of 'in evil theres good in good there is evil' n more of it having themes of 'you always have a chance to change for the better but its up to YOU do you take it'. Also Hawks was getting a lot of spotlight n as a freshly baked fav i loved him lots n that helped.

Idk i feel that my enjoyment of bnha has been raising ever since n then i found your blog thats both critical n positive n that helped me love it even more. Honestly im having a blast in this arc, im the dabi with the stupid :D smile and boy cant i wait for dust to settle and hori to give us that good good recovery arc.

Like the mans not perfect, he fucks up but im glad im able to trust him again n im glad hes delivering good food even now like the long awaited development for the girls

Awwww, I’m glad my blog helped you love the manga even more :D

I can understand why Endeavor’s redemption turned people off at first because it really did start with Endeavor’s feeling about his change first, with only his victims thinking about him in snapshots (and I still feel annoyed how the girls were more passive myself, to be honest, but mostly because I don’t think Hori knows how to make a female character who can be conflicting :/ Ah, personal issues for another day). But Endeavor’s agency arc really did show us how that Endeavor’s redemption wasn’t a simple “brush his crimes under the rug” like many shonen redemptions turn out to be and has made it one of my favourite redemptions in manga.

I still don’t like Endeavor and I’m still annoyed about Fuyumi’s pacism and behaviour towards Natsuo (though thanks to Fuyumi fans I now know why she behaved the way she did) but Hori really did do his victims so much justice in this arc. We also got to see how differently victims can react with the siblings too which just added to the realism of the story.

It’s why I find it such a shame how quick people are to dismiss it! If I were a villain stan, seeing Endeavor of all people change (but have people react realistically to his change) should have given them hope for their favourites, but I guess not.

Ah, this fandom is so conflicted on what it wants XD

[firewoodfigs]

we might be made of scars, but we’ll be alright

read on ao3 | song: miho fukuhara, let it out 

For @royaiweek day 3: old wounds - thank you mods!! 💕 y’all are amazing ✨ 

(a/n: it’s my first time trying out the “5+1 things” tag, and I thought I’d experiment with another writing style again xD feedback, as always, is greatly appreciated! <3) 

“This one had it coming, this one found a vein This one was an accident, but never gave me pain This one was my father's, and this one you can't see This one had me scared to death But I guess I should be glad I'm not dead” - Stone Sour, Made of Scars

i.

Lieutenant Hawkeye traces the long scar on the back of her calf idly as she changes out of her military uniform. It’s coloured a faded, nostalgic pink, and it reminds her of the innocent childhood that she shares with the Colonel.

She’d gotten it from a bad fall when she was only twelve, and her father’s apprentice had been terribly worried when he witnessed her limping back home. He had rushed over immediately with a first aid kit in hand, before propping her gently on the couch as he pleaded with her to let him take care of it.

It was hard to say no to such an earnest face like his. Having already suffered enough from the long walk back home, Riza wanted nothing more than to rest at that point. Eventually, she relented, though with a hint of distrust.  

Because they weren’t even friends then, and what business did he have being so nice -?

“It might hurt,” Roy whispered before dabbing the damp gauze pad on her wound.

Hydrogen peroxide on open wounds, of course, stung like hell. But for every wince, every grimace, he’d responded with a soft apology, whispering soothing platitudes as he worked on the gaping wound meticulously to avoid causing her further pain.

It was the first time Riza had felt a touch so tender and kind.

Even then, his compassion hadn’t stopped there. After he was done with the bandages he had practically ordered her to bed and appointed himself as head chef despite her objections.

“You can’t be moving around like that,” he said, ushering her into her room while lending his shoulder for support. He had helped her - much to her abashment, and much to his amusement - onto her bed, before commanding her to stay put while he prepared dinner. She obliged reluctantly, fiddling with her blanket while waiting for him.

Not too long after, he came back with a bowl of hot stew and a delighted, affable smile.

“Thank you, Mister Mustang,” she said shyly.

Roy frowned. “Please don’t call me that. Just… just call me Roy?”

She politely refused, telling him that it would be terribly inappropriate to do so, but something between them had changed. Any tension that might have existed previously was beginning to dissolve, and Riza was starting to treat him less like the plague.

Sensing this, Roy continued to stay by her side despite her proverbial disinclination for small talk, hoping to finally befriend the introverted blonde.

Over dinner, then, he’d regaled her with tales of his unfortunate misadventures with alchemy when he first started out and silly jokes that he often made with his sisters. In turn, she had reciprocated with reserved laughters and hunting mishaps of her own and a budding trust.

In the end, the injury became an insignia of when her loneliness ended, and when their friendship started.

ii.

Then, of course, there were the scars on her back that contained deadly secrets, prolix poems and meaningless apologies. To an alchemist, the intricate, complex array might have been beautiful. A transfiguration of sorts, even.  

To Riza, though, it was nothing but disfiguration in its purest, most unadulterated form. Engraved within were memories of pain and abuse and estrangement, and she would have honestly appreciated being able to live without a daily reminder of those.

He had known he was dying, even before Roy returned from the military, and had called this his parting gift. To her, to an apprentice worthy of its power, to the world. Donatio mortis causa.  

Riza thought it was the furthest thing from a present - it was her father’s curse to her, and it would haunt her even after his death.

And when he’d finally passed… Riza had been terrified to show it to Roy.

It wasn’t so much that she didn’t trust him, but - would anger consume him at the realisation that her father had done this to her? God forbid - would he think of her as ugly, marred? Would he still think of her as desirable?

But he was the chosen one; the one that her father had deemed worthy of learning flame alchemy. Ultimately, her desire to assist his goals, his wonderful dreams and ambitions for the future and for the country had outweighed whatever trivialities that might have deterred her from doing so.

With trembling hands, thus, she had unbuttoned her cardigan to reveal the array to him. He’d been speechless. There was a silence that lingered in the thin, dusty air of the Hawkeye manor, but before it could persist he had crossed the distance between them in two long strides.

“Riza,” he whispered. Her hands weren’t the only ones trembling - his hands were, too. She felt it when he rested them on the planes on her back, tracing the grooves of her spine reverently, affectionately.

The trembling hadn’t stopped even when he circled his arms around her waist to bring her into a warm embrace. He had whispered apologies onto her shoulder, then. Blamed himself for not being there to stop his teacher, her father, from doing this to her, for leaving her alone to deal with this. It was a sincere apology, unlike the ones inscribed onto her skin.

Suddenly, the weight on her back had felt a little lighter - perhaps from a burden shared, or from his sweet reassurances.

Either way, Riza remembers it as the night where her trust in him had developed into full bloom.

iii.

Eventually, though, Riza comes to learn that psychological wounds ached more than physical ones. The latter was temporary, but the former - hell, they were indelible, inescapable. This much was heavily reinforced, at least, by the horrors of war that they had encountered during their time in Ishval.

She’d told her superior officer that a gun was good, because it didn’t leave the feeling of a person dying in her hands. It was a partial lie. One that she was willing to let slip from her mouth placidly if it meant that she could be by his side and utilise her gun as a tool for protection, rather than murder and war and genocide.

Because no matter how much she scrubbed her hands after in the sink, she realised that she could never wash away the red on her hands. While the distance between her and her unfortunate victims meant that blood had never fallen on her hands, the entire experience had stained her soul a deep crimson.

It warped her heart; her conscience and morality, and it was a burden that she - no, they - would carry to their graves.

Nonetheless, Riza finds herself sending a short prayer of thanks to any god willing to hear from a wretched sinner like her as she stares at Roy’s peaceful sleeping form. Dreamless slumbers like these were uncommon for the Flame Alchemist, the Hero of Ishval, but it seemed like they were getting increasingly frequent as they progressed along further with the project after the Promised Day.

(Of course, neither of them had come to forgive themselves entirely. They probably never would - for their burdens and sins and iniquities still remained, and would linger on to their very last breaths.)

But their work of atonement and reparation had assuaged their consciences somewhat, even if only marginally. Roy, most of all, deserved this brief respite. He’d been working himself to the bone ever since he regained his vision, and she found herself having to play the role of babysitter less and less.

Riza allows a subtle smile to cross her stern features as she drapes his coat over his tired frame before returning to her paperwork.

iv.

After the war came the burns on her back. They’re splattered across her upper back in irregular splotches of pink; etched with guilt and reluctance and self-reproach.

To say that asking Roy to burn her back was difficult would be a gross understatement. He had already endured enough, and to ask him to use the power bestowed upon him to burn even more skin was akin to putting him through another round of purgatory.

Riza was disinclined to repeat his suffering, but she needed it. Desperately. She couldn’t bear the thought of creating another Flame Alchemist, and the array was literally a back-breaking burden. She’d begged him once, twice before he relented. Very unwillingly.

They’d gone back together to Tobha to do it, back to the now-decrepit Hawkeye estate that held an eerie resemblance to a haunted mansion. In some ways, it was poetically fitting - ending it where it had first begun. The estate bore apparitions of their innocence, their childhood memories, but now it would bear the ghost of flame alchemy as well.

Riza came to learn, then, that whatever she’d conceived of as pain from having hydrogen peroxide dab at an open wound paled in comparison to fire searing her skin. It took all of her willpower to not scream, but she withheld the urge to do so. Even if it meant biting her lips, digging her nails into her palms until they bled.

Like he had once done when they were children, Roy was quick to come to her aid. He came with water ice-cold and embraces lovingly-warm; painkillers and repeated apologies and constant reassurances.

Riza manages to respond to all of this with reminders of forgiveness through her pain. Because for the first time since the needle had met her skin, since the war, she’d felt free. Liberated.

Libera me.  

Roy had allowed her to be Riza Hawkeye - her own person, her own being - instead of just the bearer of a lethal, fatal secret that could kill thousands. Despite how much it pained them both to burn her back, she's never been more grateful.

Had she murmured her thanks, her apologies? Riza’s not quite sure. The memories after are a blur. She only remembers passing out in Roy’s arms and the tender, apologetic kiss on her forehead before unconsciousness had dawned upon her like a comforting blanket to stave away the unbearable pain.

The cold water falling on her skin in the shower reminds her of his warmth after the flames had died down. Riza can’t help but laugh slightly at the distant memory.

It’s ironic - Roy lives up to his moniker for reasons more than one.

v. / vi.

But none of the scars she’s sustained throughout her life can compare to the ones they’d gotten from The Promised Day.

The only comfort through all the hell they had endured was probably the fact that they were now lumped together in the same hospital room. Nonetheless, the quiet solitude of night-time is filled with unspoken apologies and unshed tears. It’s unbearable. Roy can feel the guilt radiating off every fibre of her being despite his blindness, despite the distance separating them -

- and so he orders his subordinate to come over.

Hesitantly, Riza complies. She crawls into his bed cautiously, careful not to jostle the wounds on his hands. They mark her failure. Roy was nearly killed before her very eyes, and she’d been powerless to stop it as the sword pierced through his palms. She wants to cry, wants to wail out loud and mourn for his loss of sight, for how useless she had been in the face of it all -

- but her vocal cords are strained. The only thing that escapes her throat is a soundless sob. Riza forces herself to hold in her tears - you don’t deserve to cry, no, stop - but Roy knows. He knows her like the back of his hand, and so even if she’s temporarily mute he can already hear what she’s going to say; even if he’s blind he can see the tears beginning to glimmer in her ochre eyes.

With a bandaged hand he carefully finds her face and caresses it tenderly. “It’s not your fault, Riza,” he whispers.

There’s a wetness to her cheeks now, like it’s raining. “Please don’t blame yourself,” he murmurs. “If anything, all the fault’s mine.”

As if to reinforce his point, his fingers make their way down - to her jaw, and then to the dressing on her neck. A sigh escapes his lips as he traces the scar underneath, remorse and regret dripping from his fingertips. 

“No -” Riza croaks. Not your fault, Roy.  

“If it’s not my fault, then how could it ever be yours?”

She’s silent again. There’s so much she wants to say - I’m so sorry, Roy, I should have been there, should have done something, can you ever forgive me, I was so afraid to lose you - but the wound renders it impossible.

Regardless, they’ve always had a knack for understanding each other, even without words or eye signals.

He searches for her face again, using it to guide his lips to her forehead. “Not your fault,” Roy says once more for added emphasis. His voice is louder than a whisper this time. It’s filled with conviction and relief and affection, and in their close proximity he can’t help but press a chaste kiss on her messy fringe.

“I was so afraid of losing you, Riza. Nothing scared me more than seeing you bleed on the ground, watching you almost… almost dying.”

They’re both crying uncontrollably now.

“But you’re alive, and that’s all that matters. I might never get my sight back, but I have the Hawk’s Eye with me,” he manages to quip through his sobs. “With you by my side, I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine, Riza. As long as we’re together.”

Riza manages a slight nod under his chapped lips, before reaching for his hand to place a gentle kiss on it. It’s a soothing salve to the dull ache underneath and a promise, a vow. I’ll always be with you, Roy.  

Roy retracts his hand to wrap his arms around her, pulling her body to his chest in a tight, haphazard embrace. Riza feels his heart beating against hers, all life and strength and fervor, and she thinks he’s right.

“We’ll be alright, Riza. I promise.”

[theramseyloft]

hey there, found your blog through a friend. ive been scanning your blog and patreon, and i felt like reaching out because, well... you're basically living my dream life, haha. i would love to do work like you do, rehabbing birds and training them, especially as companions/aids for disabled folks. pretty amazing! do you mind if i ask how you got started? is it an expensive venture? do you own farmland or live in a suburban area? im gonna send this before i take up too much of your time, haha. :)

I have raised ALL kinds of animals, but it was rats that lead me to pigeons.

I’ve had fish, herps, and inverts most of my life, so the way rats, mice, and Gerbils were able to bond with me felt really special.

Rats being the most intelligent and cooperatively social

When I had to stop raising small mammals, I wanted a pet that would similarly enjoy handling. Like, be happy/excited to see me when I got home, more than just wanting out.

Warm blooded, but non mammalian left birds.

Psitticines are wild animals that have needs WAY beyond our capability to meet, so they are all firmly on the no list.

I enjoyed Zebra finches, but my husband and I are sound sensitive, and he finds their song physically painful.

We can’t have chickens where we live...

Ringneck Doves ticked all the boxes for what I needed in a companion bird:

Docile/tractable Small/easy to house Easy to feed Physically incapable of biting or making painfully high pitched noises.

Turns out I was wrong about that last one! That’s pigeons. XD

We learned this with our first ringneck: An ANCIENT rescue and his wife named Nigel.

What a story those birds had!

My dear hubby was dubious about letting me raise another species, but after some shared research, was ok with me fostering some unwanted ones and finding them a new home.

I found them on Craig’s list, with cage and all.

When we went to pick them up, their owners explained that they had been unwanted, but traditional wedding gifts they felt they couldn’t refuse.

Ten years later, their owners had long ago gotten tired of caring for them, and just wanted them gone.

Their parents had purchased the pair when they retired from a magic show, and had had them as long as the couple could remember.

Having since sold white ringneck doves to magicians, I’ve learned that a trained dove retires between five and ten years of age, depending on temperament.

The parents were reported to have owned them for 15-20 years.

And the owners we picked them up from had had them for ten.

Making this pair of white Ringneck doves at LEAST 30 years old.

After this history, the wife brought them for us to take.

They were in a filthy black finch cage that had been left on their owner’s back porch long enough for a colony of fire ants to bring their own dirt and build a camp-nest in the bottom.

The birds were actively being swarmed and stung.

It took me a full thirty minutes to pull all of them off the two ancient doves...

It was touch and go for a bit, but they pulled through, and we found a home for the hen.

The cock, Nigel, had a twisted beak and the WORST coo!

High pitched and severely nasal, it could bore into your brain through ear plugs. >v<

He LOVED us, though, and liked to sing us the song of his people! At random. On Mike’s shoulder, directly into his ear.  All hours of the night. During the day, up where we couldn’t reach him. Even through trying to shoo him off his favorite perch...

He had SO much personality, and even though his song caused both of us severe physical pain and prevented us from sleeping, we could not help growing to dearly love him back.

Mere weeks after my Dear Hubby decided he wanted Nigel to spend the rest of his life with us, his time ran out.

He passed very suddenly, in our arms.

We mourned him. Lamented having so little time.

And we considered where to go from there.

We decided to find a breeder, so we could get little peeps and have the maximum amount of time with what felt like the perfect pet for us.

I had no idea they could be parent raised and still be tame, so I raised that first pair like I had my Zebra finches in College.

We took them home just feathered enough to keep warm and fed them formula.

Gordon and Sasami were those babies.

And they were such a delight, we wanted nothing more than to share with the world how wonderful hand raised dove could be.

So I got the Dear hubby’s permission to seek out more breeding pair.

Between what I could buy and what I could raise, we ended up with 8, and then eventually 16 pair.

There was not much knowledge about keeping them as house pets, or their behavior, beyond what it took to get them to reproduce.

It was common at the time, and still is, to treat Ringneck Doves like small pigeons: Keeping them in large decorative flocks in an out door pen.

It was only through raising the young of my 16 pairs and letting them grow out free flying in the middle room of my home that I learned that these long since domesticated birds could be tamed through socialization from a young age, like a puppy. 

But more importantly; just how vehemently anti-social they are!

One or two Ringneck Doves can be perfectly happy in an enclosure, but there should NEVER be more than two in any space where they can make physical contact!!!

They are VICIOUSLY territorial!

Every pair NEEDS to be an an individual enclosure, with ABSOLUTELY no way to make physical contact with any other bird, including and especially their own weanlings!

The second even their own peeps are fully self feeding, the parents start to mercilessly attack them, hell bent of driving out what they now see as an intruder invading their space and stealing their food and food from their future babies at any cost, up to and including killing them!

The actual Bird of Peace is the Rock Dove: the wild ancestor of the domestic Pigeon.

Two years after I started breeding doves, I started showing them. You can really only show doves in their own section of pigeon shows, and after seeing all the beautiful variation in pigeons, I was smitten. 

I brought home my first pigeon egg from my second show: a Portuguese tumbler hen laid it in her show cage, and I was shocked to find that breeders usually just threw those away.

Pugsly was hatched by a pair of doves, and he was amazing.

Friendly, outgoing to the point of being obnoxious, adorably, delightfully funny.

SO much more personable than the doves!

At another show, I picked up some Classic Old Frills.

Them some Old German Owls a year later.

Then some Old dutch Capuchine.

The more breeds I worked with, the more fascinated I became with the differences in the temperaments of different breeds, and the more I found I enjoyed working with the pigeons.

I knew we had used pigeons for lots of interesting studies.

Like this one about the development of heart disease!

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2006/07/060729133950.htm

This one, using training tosses of urban homing pigeons wearing special back packs to monitor lead pollution

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2016/07/160719144733.htm

But these using their natural pattern recognition as a diagnostic tool for human diseases:

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/pigeons-can-spot-breast-cancer-medical-images-180957323/?utm_source=facebook.com&no-ist

https://www.audubon.org/news/how-common-street-bird-could-coach-doctors-against-bad-diagnosis

Led me to finding this article.

https://www.audubon.org/news/the-origins-our-misguided-hatred-pigeons

And it hit me like a ton of bricks: 

Pigeons are not native to North America.

European settlers and immigrants brought them.

They had already been domesticated for thousands of years by then.

There is no such thing as a Wild pigeon in North America.

They are the avian equivalent of the street dog problem in Mexico: 

Generations of domesticated animals entirely dependent on human hand outs or left overs for survival, with no shelters to take them in or sterilization programs to prevent more unwanted individuals from being born into a hostile environment that can’t support their numbers.

As long as I have bred any species of animal, I have been active in rescue, rehabilitation, fostering, and finding homes for unwanted individuals of that species.

For me, the two just go hand in hand.

I started volunteering for the local wildlife rehab as soon as I started breeding, initially using my domestic doves (that will raise absolutely anything) to foster orphaned Mourning and Eursadian Collared Doves: hoping to prevent them from bonding to me so that they could be soft released.

When it became known that I raised pigeons, I started getting calls for them too.

Ankhou was the first that needed really hands on care.

He arrived with a baby Mourning dove.

He and it were both recent orphans. 

The wild native dove baby is well muscled, and the appropriate size for its age.

Ankhou, at 4 weeks old, should have looked like Pippin:

You can pretty accurately compare the difference between rehabbing a Mourning Dove and a Pigeon with the difference between rehabbing a grey fox kit and a stray puppy.

Like a grey fox, the Mourning dove is a native wild animal. It is absolutely vital to keep direct human interaction to the absolute minimum because developing a dependence on and friendliness towards humans will get them killed.

Either immediately and out right by hunters, or more slowly through malnutrition.

Puppies are not expected to survive in the wild, and absolutely NO rescuer would raise a puppy they found behind a garbage can or in a dumpster to weaning and nurse it to health only to dump it right back in the ally.

So I absolutely REFUSE to abandon a rescued pigeon by dumping it right back on the street it barely escaped from with its life and it honestly sickens me how many pigeon rescues advocate doing exactly that to any pigeon that doesn’t look purebred or fancy enough.

Feral Pigeons not being wild animals, and being an INTENSELY social and touch oriented species, it would not only not have been beneficial, but out right cruel not to interact with tiny, emaciated Ankhou.

Ankhou was going to take a VERY long time to catch up on enough of his development to safely find a home, so we ended up adopting instead of fostering him.

I spent a lot of time holding and talking to him, and he bonded so closely to me that the became sensitive to my anxiety attacks and started alerting for them.

He also started responding appropriately to requests, as if he actually understood them.

He had pretty severe separation anxiety, and if I stepped into the quarantine room to deal with a bird that might be ill, he would panic the moment his line of sight was interrupted.

If, however, I took the time to tell him “Ankhou, I need to go into quarantine. I will be back. Wait here.”, he would sit down in front of the door and wait quietly until I came back out with sterile hands.

This got me curious, and I started researching pigeon social and cognitive development.

As it turns out, they have a shockingly human society.

A pigeon flock is a large, extended family of birds. 

Young birds don’t split off when they wean. They join the flock, forming a close knit friend group among the other weanlings from whom they will select mates as adults and with whom they will learn to find food, water, and nest materials and what to do with those.

Very like human children moving out of their parents’ house and forming bonds among their peers.

Pigeon society is an efficient democratic meritocracy.

Communication on the wing is INCREDIBLY efficient

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/06/150609213053.htm

They vote on nearly EVERYHTING

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2010/04/100416214045.htm

And if a leader proves to be ineffective, or a navigator inaccurate, the flock can and will vote to demote them.

https://www.audubon.org/news/in-homing-pigeon-flocks-bad-bosses-quickly-get-demoted

Pigeons are absolutely CRAZY-Smart!

Pigeons are capable of high level cognition. https://www.sciencedaily.com/releas…/2009/…/090212141143.htm

To the extent that they understand the concepts of space and time! https://www.sciencedaily.com/releas…/2017/…/171204144805.htm

They are self-aware enough to distinguish themselves from other pigeons, able to recognize themselves in photos, video, and mirrors AND differentiate between the three. https://www.sciencedaily.com/releas…/2008/…/080613145535.htm

Their brains are wired SHOCKINGLY similarly to ours: https://www.sciencedaily.com/releas…/2013/…/130717095336.htm

They categorize things and learn the equivalent of words the same way human toddlers do!

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releas…/2014/…/140402095107.htm https://www.sciencedaily.com/releas…/2015/…/150204184447.htm

They can even learn to read written language well enough to differentiate between a real word and an acronym with the same number of letters.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releas…/2016/…/160919111535.htm

They are pattern mapping social learners.  Exactly like we are!

Building on this list of scientific studies, I started to experiment with teaching  each successive generation of the resident pigeons to understand the basics of verbal communication by the same mechanic as one would a toddler.

And in just the last two years with Ankhou, I have learned that they can literally learn to understand both spoken AND written human language, and literally all it takes is talking to a pigeon as if it is a nonverbal human toddler who does not know that word yet to be able to teach them to understand object words, action words, emotion words, names, and locations.

Pigeons are pets you can literally communicate to in your native language.

It is absolutely amazing!

Ankhou was not trained to alert for my anxiety attacks.

He literally did that AND started alerting me for blood sugar spikes entirely on his own.

Not even a pigeon hatched in a human house hold. A feral.

No special genetics. No training what so ever. 

Just a pigeon being a pigeon: bonding with what he considered a flock mate, and getting worried when he noticed something was wrong.

Which made me wonder: What would happen if specific traits conducive to bonding with humans and being sensitive to their emotional state were selected for in a population?

What if those birds were given at least basic communication training? On top of the matching we already do by temperament.

I’m actually working on documenting our finances and plan to discuss them in more detail at the end of the month.

Just taking in rescues to foster is an expensive process.

You need to have quarantine space that keeps new birds as completely separated from your residents as possible.

You need a vet who is either experienced with or willing to learn to treat pigeons. Each new bird will need, at absolute least, a fecal test for parasites.

You need to have dip on hand for external parasites, and the funds to buy what ever wormer, anti fungal, antibiotic, or anintimicrobial is required to treat what ever the fecal exam turns up.

Which could legitimately be all of the above, as I have had one individual come in with two species of lice, two species of intestinal worms, coccidiosis, AND salmonella, all at the same time. I have had several others come in with Trich or thrush in place of or in addition to the coccidia or salmonella.

Most will come in malnourished or injured on top of being sick and/or parasitized.

You REALLY have to plan for the worst with rescues.

Because taking in animals you cannot house or feed or for whom you are unable to provide the necessary medical care is NOT rescuing them.

It is subjecting them to the exact neglect that rescuers intend to save them from.

It is REALLY easy for big hearted people to find themselves overwhelmed and exhausted trying to save every one, and that is something every one who wants to rescue needs to keep in mind for the sake of their health as much as the quality of their care.

I live in a trailer park in Ga, on a little plot of land just big enough to say I have a front and back yard.

The modest inheritance my parents left me and my sister when they passed funded the loft being built, and my husband’s job pays for what ever daily maintenance and veterinary care that bird and harness sales and my Patreon can’t cover.

It was designed around comfort and disease prevention for them and pain management for me. It really makes my day to know that people have enough interest in my work to ask detailed questions!

It’s a bit of a bear for an autistic woman with ADHD to get to a bunch of them all at once, but I still REALLY want to hear them and am THRILLED to get to answer!

It’s easier for me to answer in detail if I can focus on one question at a time, though.

There is absolutely no limit to the number I am willing to answer, so don’t be afraid to flood my inbox with a ton of individual questions. ^v^

[plushpixels]

hii sorry ive been sending so many asks recently i just really like your account!! anyways, how do you edit your posts? ive been looking for how to make posts smoother and just better quality in general and i can’t figure it out. anything helps thanks💓

@puppa-coffee It’s no problem at all, I love getting asks x))))I’m not doing anything unusual with my screenshots, just the standard stuff everyone seems to be usuing :3

So, first of all, I use Photoshop, and don’t know a thing about other editors  😅 

I’ll just describe it shortly, and if anything confuses you, you can just shoot me another message and I’ll try to explain better, ok?  🙃 (and I’m hiding it under cut cause I’m incapable of writing shortly, as it turnes out x)

1.  I start with cropping my screens to the ratio I want and fixing perspective with transform tool. I never resize before I used cleaning tools, but that’s otional, depends on effect you prefer.

2. As far as I’m concerned most people use Topaz Clean plug-in for PS for cleaning and smooting, but I also saw options with just using Smart Sharpen filter from PS itself, I even have the action, and will search for a link, if you need it  😇

I’m no friend to PS sharpen tools though, so I use Topaz, and to skip fiddling with settings (’cause I’m lazy and I love using actions x)) I’m running this action by @kaleekalo​ (first I use n1 Topaz Clean, and after it n2 Texture Smoothing) and that’s it for cleaning and smooting!  There are plenty different actions for topaz which give more accent for edges or slightly different effects, but this one really does it for me atm :3

3. Yeah, and now I resize, to 850px width (for no particular reason, I was going down from 1100px, cutting off 50px at every step, until I just couldn’t make myself cut off more xD)

4. And then it’s time for color cor, for which I’m using a combo of honeycomb psd by @glitchysims and cherry tree psd, which to be found in here from @nhflora and some adjustment layers of my own  🤪 and I tweak them in a weird way which isn’t to be explaind shortly (as if I was short before x)) I’m not even sure of how much of original settings are still in there 😅

5. And after that I use Fake it! action by @poolbrop which I’m not able to find anymore..?  🤨 It’s nothing crucial though, just some blur on the edges of the pic and a bit of 3D effect to imitate some nice features of reshades, because I just can’t use reshades, I’m incapable x)

6. And then I use a teeny tiny bit of Smart Sharpen for who knows what, and actually sharpen with High Pass filter, which is my very favorite kind of gentle sharpening!

And that’s about it :3

Hope it helps you, but from your ask, I think the most important part you’re struggling with will be solved with Topaz Clean and Texture Smooth actions  🙃

upd: Oh! And I also use a bunch of mods like NoGlo and such, which have nothing to do with quality, unless maybe tweaking the light in a way which allows use to skip brightening up you screens and therefore maaaaybe have less noise and texture hiccups? I’m not sure though, I still have texture hiccups on dark objects all over the place >_<

[raendown]

My piece for a private ShikaSaku exchange, prompt from @chinarai. I had a small panic a few days ago when I realized I had finished this and then promptly forgotten it for about a month. xD That’s what happens when you work on too many things at once!

Pairing: ShikamaruSakura Word count: 5582 Rated: T+ Summary: A retelling of the Hades and Persephone myth in which tales depicting the beauty of Spring have spread even to the underworld where they catch the attention of one who rules in the shadows.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Equinox Absconding

i.

He’s hiding up in the branches of an apple tree covered in reluctant blossoms when they meet for the first time. Sakura isn’t sure what it is about the blossoms on the tree that put her in mind of reluctance, perhaps the way most of the petals have only half opened with many trying to curl back in to slumber, but it seems appropriate considering the sulking expression on the young god looking down at her. The shadows at her feet twist and snap with the desire to reach for the trunk but she holds them back for fear of withering even such a sleepy tree.

“Abed at noon,” she notes. “Except you appear to have misplaced your bed.”

“It’s my garden, I can sleep wherever I want.” The young god watches her from one eye, allowing the other to fall shut as though he intends to take half a nap.

Sakura whispers to her shadows to soothe them as she tilts her chin up to get a better look at this young man’s face. The God of Spring if she isn’t mistaken. Rumors rarely make their way to her in the underworld where she reigns but this man, this young god with his beautiful face and lazy flowers growing in his hair, she has heard of him more than once. They say he is divine to behold and that much is true, she thinks. But they also say that he is lazy and Sakura thinks with no small amount of amusement that rumors are always grounded in at least some truth. Nothing she has heard of this man has proved unfounded.

Under the looseness of his muscles where he lays draped between the branches, however, the one half-lidded eye that watches her is sharp with an intelligence that doesn’t just pique her interest – it holds her captive in the most wonderful of ways. She’s always appreciated a man with a proper head on his shoulders.

Mortal men are always such predictable disappointments in that area, feeble minds saturated with undeserved pride and always falling prey to one vice or another.

“Have I your permission to enter this garden?” Sakura asks. Being polite is as foreign and awkward as any other social interaction after the long seasons of being sequestered away with only the dead for company but even she knows that manners will get her farther than demands or flexing her muscles. It’s a disappointment to see one of his eyebrows quirk ever so slightly in a forbidding manner.

“No. Entertaining company is bothersome and all I want to do right now is take a nice long nap. The gardens are closed today.” With that he closes his second eye with a deliberateness that speaks to dismissal and Sakura is left gaping up at him.

“As you wish,” she murmurs.

It’s more shock than anything else that he could deny her so easily and for such a flimsy reason that has her bowing and turning away. To disrespect a fellow god in their own territory where their powers are strongest would not be the wisest course of action. Sakura isn’t stupid by half and she knows the tactical advantages in a well-timed retreat, how to use that time given to regroup and make new plans.

 ii.

Only a month passes before Sakura finds herself once more standing at the entrance to the gardens brought forth by Yoshino, the Goddess of the Harvest and Fertility, to keep her son pleased and encourage him never to leave her side. Such strong maternal love isn’t something Sakura experienced for herself but she can imagine from the way the God of Spring gazes longingly in to the distance that it must be a heavy and suffocating burden to bear. Oh the things she would do to lift the burden from those drooping shoulders.

And the many more things she would do to keep those piercing eyes fixed on her and nothing else.

“I see that today is not a day for idling in the treetops,” she notes upon finding him spread out on a rock with his face tilted up to feel the sun’s warmth. Something in the languid lines of his body reminds her of a coiled spring. How fitting.

“Broke one of the branches,” he admits. “Mom was furious. She won’t let me back up there until the tree has healed and it’s way too troublesome to fight with her.”

“Are you often at odds with your matriarch?”

Instead of answering the young god sits up, sending a thrill down Sakura’s spine to have his full attention seemingly so easily, but then he frowns and cocks his head to one side in curiosity. “Your speech is ancient. No one talks like that anymore, you know that right? It makes you sound really stuffy.”

“You will find, I think, that I am not nearly so stuffy as you have judged me.”

Injured pride ripples through her and demands that she protest harder, prove herself to this young stripling that insults her so easily, but Sakura only breathes deeply and holds her temper with great effort. She can tell he’s aware of the blow he struck by the quirk of his lips. Anger aside, it is a triumph to have made him smile even if doing so was at her own expense. With his dark hair and all the secrets hiding behind that shadowed smile Sakura cannot help but think that he was born to follow her in to the underworld. Born or molded; it’s hard to tell with all the shenanigans that go on when the other members of the pantheon start mucking about with each other, a madness she prefers to stay well away from.

“Who said I was judging you? All I said was that it makes you sound stuffy. It was advice, just in case you make a regular habit of going around and chatting up whatever men you find stuck in trees.” He arches one eyebrow and Sakura can feel the still heart in her chest crash painfully against her ribs. His face is all angles and each one of them is more beautiful than the last.

“Have I your permission to enter this garden?” she asks, feeling much more confident of his good will this time. Which is what makes it such a shock to once more see him closing his eyes and laying back down with a shake of his head.

“Nope. I really do just want to nap. This place is so boring.”

Sakura thinks she could make any plane of any world less boring for him if only he would let her try but she is the queen of the dead; despite her temper she is well aware the benefits to be found in patience.

“As you wish,” is all she says as her shadows twist and reach – and she is gone from the gardens a moment later.

 iii.

They meet.

 iv.

And they meet.

 v.

And they meet again, always in the garden where he denies her entrance. By the third time she suspects that it is for no reason but his own amusement and by the fifth time she knows from the smile in his eyes as he catches sight of her yet again. Sakura thinks to herself that she would act all kinds of a fool to have that smile catch her in its light.

Today she is asked for no foolery but instead is greeted with a bit of laughter as the young god leans back against the branch he has settled himself on.

“You don’t give up, do you?” he calls down.

“I have been called tenacious by many,” she admits. Then with a teasing smile she adds, “Hardheaded by many others.”

“Troublesome.”

Laughter in his voice tells her that, although he may declare her troublesome, that does not mean he finds her unworthy of his company. As evidenced by the way he seems to pause and wait for the question she has asked him several times before. Sakura wonders why he appears eager to send her away so quickly this time but it is not for her to ask such things, only for her to say the words he so clearly expects.

“Have I your permissions to enter this garden?”

“Sure.”

Sakura blinks, a momentary pause that she recovers from quite nicely, in her opinion. Within seconds she is at his side as he heaves himself up like the effort will cost him a millennia of his life span and then they are walking. Each footstep touching upon the earth deliberate and slow. Sakura thrills to be so close to the one who has captured her interest so thoroughly.

“My name is Shikamaru,” he offers and it isn’t until he does that she first realizes she’s been avoiding using his name even in her thoughts.

“And mine is Sakura, queen of the damned, keeper of the gates to Tartarus and goddess of the underworld, tasked with guiding dead souls who have crossed the river Styx. It is my infinite pleasure to make your acquaintance.” For a moment she considers bowing but there is only one to whom she has ever bowed and, despite being the ruler of Olympus, Kakashi mostly doesn’t care for that sort of thing anyway.

“I already knew all that,” Shikamaru points out.

“Permit me this one chance to brag,” Sakura jests. “I so rarely meet any of the living that I haven’t before.”

For whatever reason her companion seems to find this incredibly amusing, poking gentle fun at her for being boring and a shut-in as they wander through the trees and the flowers that make up the garden where he spends his time. Sakura gives in after several minutes and points out that he counts as the same, no matter that his domain is infinitely prettier than her own. The brief wrinkling of his nose is enough to tell her that his stationary habits are less of his own desire and more due to outside restrictions.

She doesn’t think she is very far off the mark for guessing his mother as the cause.

Together they wander among the gardens, talking as easily as though they have known each other for eons, and Sakura makes careful note of every reaction to every mention of Yoshino. It wouldn’t do to act before she is sure – but by the time she leaves the garden she is more than sure.

And she is already making plans. It simply won’t do to allow Shikamaru to continue on in this stifled existence.

 vi.

With a knowing look on her face Sakura looks Shikamaru directly in the eye as she steps in to his garden without asking permission. He shakes his head and turns away but she catches sight of the smile on his face and that is all the confidence she needs to stride boldly forward where she now knows she is more than welcome. Shikamaru gives off a rather ostentatious sigh and mumbles just loud enough for her to hear about bothersome guests and all the trouble it would be to evict them.

Sakura draws her shadows in close as she bends to admire some of the flowers growing near her, wisteria of the softest purples she has ever seen, and does her best to project a casual air when she speaks.

“I have often thought that my domain could use such colors but alas, I’ve no talent for growing myself. The touch of Death affects all mortal things.” And oh how she is grateful not to have given her heart away to a mortal. Too many times she has greeted the victims of that chaos at the gates of the underworld to ever become embroiled in the same idiocies.

“Are you trying to be subtle?” Shikamaru asks. “Because it’s not working.”

“Has my lack of subtlety affected your answer in any way?”

“Well I feel a bit more like laughing at you.” He grins and reaches close to her to pluck a gardenia close to the blossoms she had been admiring. It twirls between his fingers like spring on spring, growth in the hands of growth, and Sakura admires the petals’ dance while picturing the two of them dancing the same.

How ethereal he would look with that long hair of his let down to flow around his shoulders, a crown of bones to match her own all woven through with the flowers and fruits he holds such a deep connection to. Even her own hair, an ironic pink that stands out so stark against the darkness of her domain, cannot hope to hold a candle to the delicate shades of red that splash over Shikamaru’s cheeks when he catches her watching him so closely, hanging on his every word with genuine interest. His mind is as beautiful as the solid lines of his body and his conversation is as riveting as the depths of his deep, dark eyes.

Sakura looks upon her chosen and thinks to herself that he has eyes that were made for the underworld.

“You are not happy here,” she guesses. Shikamaru huffs.

“Mother’s always on about ‘do this’ and ‘do that’ or ‘you’ll never make a proper god unless you work hard at it’. It’s all so boring.”

Daring to brush his fingers with her own, Sakura holds her palm just out of reach of the delicate flower in his grasp. “If you would allow me to, nothing would please me more than bringing you to a place where I believe you could be happy.”

“Sell me on it,” Shikamaru laughs.

“You need be nothing but what you already are – for who can improve upon perfection?” He laughs again when she winks playfully, one of her shadows coming up to tickle his chin. “A garden for your very own to make of it what you will, a palace of bone and fertile earth for you to grow and fill and call your home. A place at my side. Imagine, sweet Spring, the many eons you can spend dozing to your heart’s content in the warmth of the underworld with your head pillowed on my lap.” There are other things she has to give yet not many that she thinks might impress him. A greedy human, perhaps, might have been taken in by the endless riches she has collected over the millennia but Shikamaru is different from them – he possesses an actual brain in his head.

“Hm, is that all? I have a place to grow here, you know. Maybe not a palace but I make due.” He is only teasing, she can see that he has already been won over. Still she turns her body to face him and steps a little closer until her diminutive size demands that she tilt her chin to look up at him through her lashes.

“Books,” she whispers. “Entire civilizations that have risen only to fall, knowledge lost to all who walk the surface of the earth, tomes no mortal eyes have ever gazed upon. All of these I have read before and would be most happy to discuss with you once you have devoured them for yourself.”

No beast or creatures, no man or woman or god of any pantheon, none have ever looked at her quite like Shikamaru looks at her then, with joy in his eyes and the rapture of finding home.

Sakura finds that the feelings under her breast are so large that she cannot contain them without some form of expression. She delights in the look of wonder Shikamaru gives her as she turns and crashes her fist in to the earth, cracking it open until a great chasm stretches out before them. When she rights herself again she delicately brushes the dirt from her knuckles before turning to offer her hand to the god she is sure in the deepest reaches of her heart is meant for her and her alone.

“Come with me,” is her siren call.

His fingers slide in to hers with a mischievous smile and she is falling in love all over again.

 vii.

Shikamaru glows in the darkness of her lair. For all that his hair is as black as the earth around him Sakura cannot help but think that he brings light in to every room he wanders through, breathing life in to the afterworld in a way that leaves her desperate for more. Never in her memory has she craved the company of another quite like she does with Shikamaru.

His eyes are curious and for the first time since they met his body in anything but languorous as he wanders from one end of her palace to the other. His fingers test the soil where she has promised he may grow his garden and his pulse jumps in his throat to find the library, seemingly endless rows of priceless tomes, all of them just waiting for his eager mind. When he comes to a door that is plain and unremarkable he notes the anomaly and reaches to open it – only for Sakura to gently lay a hand over his and shake her head.

“Unless you wish to greet the souls of the dead I would advise another path.”

“Don’t want me to know every part of your life?” he asks. “And here I thought you trusted me.” The words are playful but the tone running under his voice is steel, coiled in a spring and ready to burst, ready to leave if he decides that she is not quite what he thought of her after all. The thought rankles and Sakura wrinkles her nose at him with little dignity.

“I thought only to spare you but if you are so determined to gaze in to the void then be it on your own head. Know, however, that if madness touches you it will be my head your godly mother seeks vengeance from.”

“Oh come on, she won’t hurt you. I mean she would try, obviously, but I don’t think she’d get much of a hit in on you.” Without so much as breaking expression his eyes drift down to openly admire her biceps. Sakura looks away and pretends not to be affected, hoping the warmth in her cheeks doesn’t show.

Completely contrary to what she expects, it turns out that she has worried herself over nothing. The door opens and Shikamaru steps through the door to see the truth of her rule stretching out before him, pits and towers and endless fields of eternal souls despairing and rejoicing and holding tightly to the memories of their transient lives, an intricate tableau of the mortal experience that no one but Sakura has ever truly appreciated before.

All it takes is one look at him face to know that Shikamaru appreciates it. There is a beauty to be found in such raw emotion and as his entire being lights up with wonder Sakura feels her chest swelling with pride, with joy, with so many emotions she cannot hope to name them all. Finally she is not alone. At last she is not the singular freak set apart from all the rest, the only one to see what the rest of the world refuses to even consider. So many humans have asked the question of life after death and yet the heroes that come pounding against her gates thinking themselves clever and brave look only once before recoiling and Sakura knows that they don’t see. They look upon death and think it an end.

Death is only the beginning.

Shikamaru’s fingers reach for hers as though unaware of their own movements and his flesh is warm when he gently guides her against him.

“I can say you’re not a liar,” he admits and Sakura tilts her head in question.

“While that is true I must admit that I do not see the relevance.”

“You said you would show me a place where I could be happy.” He turns to meet her eyes and the world itself falls away from her feet at the depth in those dark irises. “Well you were right. I could be very happy here.”

Daring to reach further, Sakura lifts her other hand to caress the side of his jaw. “Will you stay?”

She can see his answer in the way he bends down to meet her, the way he presses his body against her own. In his voice she finds the only nirvana she has ever thought to dream for.

“Yes,” he whispers. “I will stay.”

Happiness is having her very own dream come true press a kiss against her lips that tastes like freedom.

 viii.

“Will you be missed?” she asks him after several days have passed. Shikamaru gives a lazy shrug and buries his nose deeper within the book he’s been engrossed in for the past several hours.

“My mom’s probably looking for me.”

“Should I worry?” Sakura asks, her fingers in his hair and her mind’s eye fixed on visions of a future where she and Shikamaru languish side by side for all of eternity.

Turning another page, her companion shrugs again. “Dunno. If she never thinks to look for me here then we’ll be fine.”

“Ah. Good fortune, then, that I was careful never to visit with the threat of witnesses hanging about.”

Sakura smiles to herself with a smug air and plucks a grape from the plate at her side. After much taste-testing of her own she can vouch that they are juicy and ripe, perfect for temptingly pressing one against Shikamaru’s lips until they part with a smile to accept her gift.

The feeling of his lips lingering on her fingertips is enough of a distraction that the issue is put out of her mind then and there in favor of more interesting thoughts.

 ix.

“I don’t see what this has to do with me.”

Yoshino watches the god before her lift his proud chin and it takes everything in her not to snap, not to show this petty child the true meaning of rage. She needs the answers only he can give her and it simply won’t do to anger him. Not yet.

“You are the All-Seeing,” she says. “What boon you would have of me I will freely grant you in return for your wisdom. Turn your all seeing eyes to the earth, I beg you, oh God of the Sun. I seek no more than the location of my most beloved son.” Pretty words and a promise she has no intention of keeping but Yoshino will let worst pass her lips to find her missing child. Shikamaru belongs to her and her alone.

“Any favor at all?” Neji turns the offer over in his mind. His lavender eyes turn towards the earth but his expression is thoughtful still as though he has yet to decide.

“Whatever your heart desires.”

She does not expect him to snort derisively. “You have the power to grant nothing that my heart desires – but I would very much enjoy knowing that you owe me, petty Goddess of the Harvest.”

It takes almost more effort than she is capable of giving to grind her teeth and remain silent, bowing her head as though humble and willing to serve in whatever small way he asks. For Yoshino is certain that the god of the sun can think of only small things. Surely his mind cannot be anywhere near as sharp as her own and therefore must be small and dull in comparison. It truly is a shame that she, of all the gods, was graced with the most intelligence on top of the most beautiful child. What would the world be like if she weren’t so alone in all her glory?

Neji interrupts her musings with a flat look that makes her think he is more than aware of what occupies her mind.  

“Your son is not on earth.” When Yoshino protests he rolls his all-seeing eyes and interrupts her once more. “He is, by means unknown, currently deep in the underworld with the Goddess of Death at his side. And with that I have fulfilled my end of this bargain. Remember that you owe me a favor, which I will collect at my leisure.”

“How am I to remove him from the underworld!?” Yoshino demands. Anywhere on earth would have been preferable but the domain of the dead is not in her purview. Her flowers and vines and growing things cannot reach for Shikamaru there to pull him back to the place where he belongs and she knows very well that such a stubborn boy will need a good deal of pulling.

“That is not my problem,” Neji reminds her. Then the sun god turns away and snaps the reins of his chariot to continue on his journey across the sky.

Yoshino is left alone with a coldness in her chest she has never felt before and a realization. Always has she taken it for granted that her child will be with her, her perfect progeny, and always has she assumed that she knows what is best for his happiness. Shikamaru is her son. He is her flesh and blood. It has always seemed immutable to her that there can be no place where he is happier than by her side and the very thought that she may be wrong in as inconceivable as the notion that she, an immortal being, may one day see the ravages of aging.

It is with practiced ease that she dismisses such unwanted thoughts. They do not make her happy and thus she feels no need to think on them any further, not when there are many more important things to consider.

Such as how to lure her son away from that dark and dismal hole where the God of Spring can never belong.

 x.

Months have passed before the messenger of the gods appears to bring Sakura out of the haze of ecstasy that is Shikamaru. Long months filled with happiness no matter that she struggles to find a balance between attending to her duties and attending the one who captures her heart more and more with every day. Much as she is fond of Olympus’s messenger, Lee is still an unwelcome sight. He can only be here with purpose and whatever that purpose is by necessity must take her away from Shikamaru’s side.

Lee hasn’t even the grace to look ashamed of interrupting their calm revelry and so Sakura doesn’t bother to grant him the courtesy of rising from where she is lounging against her companion’s chest while he absently runs fingers through her hair, tracing the petals of a flower he invented specifically for her. The moonflower grows only in the garden she gifted to him.

“Who sent you?” she calls lazily across the room. Lee grants her a beaming smile, ever full of more energy than anyone else around him.

“Kakashi!” he cries. A favorite of all, Lee has never known formality in his life.

“And what news has the father of us all to share?”

“No news! A plea!” Clearing his throat, Lee strikes a pose. “The ruler of Olympus begs pardon for interrupting your leisure and beseeches you to please do something about the crazy goddess who set eternal winter upon the land!”

Both Sakura and Shikamaru are sitting upright in an instant with dual cries of “What!?”

“Yosh! The Goddess of the Harvest has declared eternal winter in the throes of agony at being separated from her beloved child! In his wisdom, Kakashi asks that you return Shikamaru to his rightful place!”

“His rightful place,” Sakura snarls, “is wherever he is most happy.”

Rather than argue with her, Lee strikes yet another pose and presents her with two thumbs up. “I have fulfilled my duty!”

With that he turns and races out of the building with a burst of inhuman speed. The divine couple watches him go with no small amount of exasperation and, despite her shock at the news just delivered, Sakura finds a moment to shake her head in mild disbelief.

“Gifted with winged sandals and still he insists on running everywhere.”

“I have to go back to the surface.”

Sakura’s head snaps around to stare at her companion with wide eyes. “You have to do nothing but that which pleases you!”

“And it would please me if the earth wasn’t dark with winter the whole year round.” With a sigh Shikamaru leans closer and touches his forehead to hers. “I want to stay here. You know I want nothing more than to stay here with you. But I am Spring and I can’t sit by knowing that she’s denying the purpose I was created for. I would survive but what kind of existence would it be to see my purpose fulfilled? What if you never guided another lost soul in to the afterlife?”

“Yes, I see your point,” she admits reluctantly. Her eyes close for a moment before she opens them again, greedy for one more chance to memorize his beloved features. “If you must go then know that I will think of you always.”

“Well I never said I was leaving forever.”

Shikamaru winks and Sakura realizes with weighty relief that he has a plan. Never has she been happier that she fell in love with one who carries more than two brain cells to rub together.

 ∞.

The garden is familiar yet not nearly as warm as she remembers, not with Yoshino’s eyes watching her with heavy suspicions. Sakura wonders whether her fellow goddess thinks herself unseen or if she believes her mere presence to be a deterrence against any untoward behavior. Thinking about her certainly gives Sakura a few untoward urges but this isn’t the time for that.

Shikamaru is steady and solid against her, arms wrapped about her shoulders to hold her close, a cocoon of belonging just for the two of them. His heartbeat thrums under her ear. Soft breathing ruffles the top of her hair. If she had her way in things this moment would stretch on in to eternity and they would never have to part but alas, Yoshino has outsmarted them both – surprising as that is. Perhaps Sakura needs to spend more time relearning the patterns of other living creatures if someone like Yoshino can outmaneuver her on the first try.

“It’s not forever,” Shikamaru murmurs, bending to whisper his words directly against the shell of her ear.

“Already it feels like forever has passed and you have not even left my arms.” Although Sakura is more than aware she is pouting she still does not appreciate the laughter that rumbles through her partner’s chest.

“You’ll see me again in the fall. Less than one year, that’s barely a blink for our kind.”

“Every moment without you is too long.”

Now Shikamaru is outright laughing, which she appreciates even less. “Quit being so dramatic. This is the only deal she would accept and if this is what it takes for us to be together”-he pulls away to meet her eyes-“then I will follow this agreement to the letter. Anything to go back to where I belong.”

From several feet away they can both hear the poorly hidden Yoshino grumbling to herself that this garden is where her son belongs but they ignore her easily.

“I love you,” Sakura whispers. Incredibly, Yoshino falls silent.

“I love you too. And I’ll miss you. I’d say you can visit but we should probably wait a few millennia before we ask for any concessions like that.”

Her pouting lip protrudes a little further but it does her no good. Shikamaru is still pulling away ever so gently and although she understands the necessity of it, understands the pain of having one’s very purpose suppressed across the entire world in punishment until the wayward son returns to his mother’s side, that makes it no easier to separate her from the other half of herself she has only just discovered. Shikamaru is the light she never knew she needed in her world of darkness until she saw him for the first time and her very heart itself lit up with joy. Leaning in close now she can taste a hint of that first joy on his lips.

“When the first leaves fall,” she warns him, “I will come for you.” Shikamaru does his best to look unaffected.

“Troublesome. I hate deadlines.”

“How fortuitous that I shall be the one watching the calendar go by, then.” As soon as Sakura leans forward to close the gap between them and steal a kiss they are pulled apart by insistent hands and Yoshino sends her a look filled with venom.

The Goddess of the Harvest and Fertility huffs as she draws her son against her own side instead and pretends not to see the rolling of his eyes. Entirely uncaring of her reaction Sakura blows the kiss she has been denied in Shikamaru’s direction and gathers her darkest shadows around her in preparation to leave this place. As per the agreement, she will stay in her domain until the winter comes and she may be reunited with her love once more.

“Until it is your turn to rest, oh beautiful Spring,” she calls.

And with that she is gone in a twist of darkness, to return for that which belongs to her when the time is right, and an endless cycle begins.

[teddystrap]

[神なる君と] 天津国星縁尊 (Mikoto) + Final thoughts

Finally!!!!!!! I sacrificed one night’s sleep to finish this route, but I did it! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

I had originally planned to spread it out over a couple of days, but there was a lot of recap of stuff we already know here, so I got kind of impatient and rushed through some of it. So apologies if some of the minor details are off. I got all the important bits I think.

- Amatsu-kunihoshi-en-no-Mikoto -

Is it just me or does his silhouette give off a HAIR METAL / 1970s Alice Cooper vibe???

Mikoto is the former God of Kunihoshi Shrine who gave his position over to Sakuya for some reason. He is kind of a comedic/jokester character, but occasionally reveals a deeper and more serious side, much like Yakumo-nii-san.

His route happens if Sakuya chooses to help him grant his wish instead of investigating the school haunting rumours. Her first task is to time-skip slightly into the future, on hoshimatsuri night, to take a message for future-Mikoto. 

After she arrives she sees her future self running along the river searching for Mikoto and crying. Yorihito stops her from talking to her future self, and tells her that Mikoto is under the tree in the shrine. She finds him and passes along the message, which is to ask him if his wish has been granted.

He replies yes, but he wishes he had done a better job and made ‘her’ understand his actions.

Back in the present, she asks Mikoto what that’s all about but he doesn’t want to tell her. The rest of the route is basically her process of figuring out his secrets.

The side arcs in the other routes are briefly recapped here, except each one now reveals something important about Mikoto’s worldview. Following the order that they appear in:

*

I. Yorihito/Nisei

This time Mikoto tells them straightaway that Nisei has travelled here from the past through a time warp, and has to return. Sakuya accepts his views, and he tells her that every beautiful meeting has to eventually end in parting, and that the memories not only tie us to the future, but they also drive us forward... It’s kind of like his ‘going away speech’ in a way, but Sakuya doesn’t know that at this point.

II. The Sanshin incident

‘YOU no DOGEZA = VERY BEAUTIFUL datta-ze!’ #yuri<3

The Sanshin tell Sakuya that they sympathise with Mikoto, because he has been on the receiving end of much hate and anger from people whose wishes he wasn’t able to grant. 

Later Sakuya asks him if he hates people, and he turns the question back to her. She replies that people come in many different personalities, and he agrees. He thinks that it’s his misdeed that he wasn’t able to save everyone. But Sakuya feels that he has done nothing wrong - to which he thanks her and says that her kindness has saved him time and again.

III. Aki/Kunugi arc

‘You...! Be my grrrl.’ #kunugi<3

This ends in pretty much the same way as in Yakumo’s route. Aki tells Sakuya that things worked out for the best, because love between a human and a supernatural being is bound to end in tragedy. Sakuya realises that there are other alternative endings besides ‘happily ever after’. She ofc thinks of Mikoto,... and so she goes and asks him if he has ever been in love. He tells her that gods have to love everyone and everything equally (including Yorihito and miscroscopic bacteria lol).

Then he tells her that she is very important to him, and that he prays for her happiness.

IV. Fuu-san

After hearing rumours about evil spirit moaning in the old school building, Sakuya wonders if Rei is having stomachaches XD.

Anyway, here Fuu-san again confides in Sakuya about his friend Yuuya, and she wonders if there’s a way to ease his pain. Mikoto says it’s possible to erase his memories, but Fuu-san would refuse to do so. He believes that there are some painful histories that one just has to live with - and surprisingly Sakuya accepts his view. I feel like she is accepting too much in this route XD.

*

.: Going back to Mikoto’s backstory, we already know about the 1000-year-old love story between the miko and the Great Demon from the other routes, but we missed a few key points which are revealed here:

1. The sesshouseki itself is not the Demon’s remains. It’s a fragment of a star that was used to absorb the Demon’s curse/evil energy. And Mikoto is the living embodiment of this stone. 

2. The Demon’s remains are actually buried under the *magical tree* in the yard of the shrine. And his spirit communicates to Sakuya and others through this tree.

3. The 1000-year promise: Before the Demon’s death, Mikoto promised to watch over his remains to prevent the curse from escaping. This would only work for 1000 years, so after that time, Mikoto promised to absorb all the curse energy himself and disappear from the face of the earth.

What actually happened is that 10 years ago on hoshimatsuri night, when Mikoto was supposed fulfil his promise and disappear, he hesitated and started crying under the tree, because he was afraid of death. Child Sakuya came over to comfort him, and ended up in the energy transfer danger zone.

So, to save her from dying from the curse, Mikoto decided to make her a Goddess 10 years later to build ‘immunity’, and then on hoshimatsuri night transfer all her curse energy back onto himself and disappear as promised. At first he didn’t want to tell her all this, but she’s super しつこい so eventually he told her everything.

Sakuya found herself falling for Mikoto and didn’t want him to disappear, so she asked Yorihito how to prevent his plan from working using her Goddess powers. On hoshimatsuri night, she successfully stops Mikoto from fulfilling his promise, and seals it with a kiss.

Because the curse energy remained in her body, she grew weaker and weaker and died three months later. THE END.

...

Lol j/k.

Good end: Mikoto can’t get over Sakuya’s death, so 1 year later on hoshimatsuri, he decides to use the same time-travel method (and the power of Sakuya’s amulet) to go back in time and stop her from thwarting his epic disappearance plan. Everyone supports him - except Yakumo, who thinks that Mikoto shouldn’t force his own plan against her will. He wants Mikoto to do what makes them both happy, even if it means defying Fate.

Sooo, Mikoto goes back in time... to 11 years ago, before hoshimatsuri night. He finds child Sakuya on the shrine grounds, and gives her an amulet and sends her away, telling her NOT TO COME HERE TONIGHT. 

...With that taken care of, nighttime comes and he proceeds to fulfil his promise. But to his surprise, Sakuya shows up again - to give him back his amulet and tell him to stop being an #emosadface. He is all like #headpalm #Orz #omgthismustbeFATE.

In that moment he decides that, instead of letting the curse transfer take place this time, he will try to fight it so that no-one has to die. Basically the same thing that Yuzuru did for Yakumo in all his routes = Zzzzzzz (fight the curse while sleeping). At the last moment, he tells Sakuya that he’s going away for a while, but promises to meet again someday.

...

Loop back to the beginning of the game, except in this new alternative future, 17-year-old Sakuya has a more enlightened view on religion and shittier luck in omikuji. In the shrine, she meets Mikoto once again - and this time she remembers him from her childhood meeting, and he is willing to tell her the whole Kami Naru Kimi to story, with no secrets.

*

[Thoughts] Let me first take a moment to marvel at the coherence of the whole story...... 

...Ok. Moving on.

Mikoto’s route wasn’t as much a tearjerker as I thought it would be. Or maybe I was just too tired/brain-dead to cry at 3am _(:3」∠)_. It also doesn’t feel much like a romance love story. I mean Mikoto was preparing for his *ultimate demise* and in no mood for a relationship for the most part lol. So a lot of Sakuya’s actions/thoughts felt very one-sided.  

It was nice that the recaps of the four side story-arcs were kept short (I guess for the benefit of those who didn’t see all of them? not sure if possible to get to the hidden route without unlocking all four events, but anyway).

Piecing together the info from the other routes, I had some guesses as to what the ‘full picture’ was... but this route totally took it in a different direction than what I was expecting. I kind of figured from Sakuya’s surname (「神」 and 「木」) that she’s the descendant/reincarnate of the spirit who lives in the tree, who must be Mikoto’s old lover from 1000 years ago. Lolol was I wrong about that XDDD - although I think my version would’ve made a more romantic story. ^_~

Overall, I like how the route challenged/changed Mikoto’s views about the impenetrability of Fate. You come away with the feeling of understanding a lot more: why gods exist, the true purpose of prayer, why individual wishes are/aren’t fulfilled, the role of free will, etc.

‘I have come to show you the Truth... with my really nice hair’ ;)

(It does make me sad that in the good ending version of events, some of the characters probably never got a chance to meet - e.g. Narumi & Mikoto, Yuzuru/Rei and everyone else.)

As I feared, there was no clear explanation for Rei’s existence. In the ending it’s revealed that he is/was a 生霊 (a soul that got separated from a living body), and that after Narumi failed to send him off to the other world during hoshimatsuri, he ended up in hospital and was able to recover his body (and some temporary memory loss) with Aki’s help.

...Which STILL doesn’t explain who he is, and how he landed in this condition, AND in his own ending why he disappeared for 10 years and came back as a living human... Unless I missed something in my haste, but I doubt it. Otomate was probably counting on the fact that nobody would fall in love with Rei so nobody cares. But I want some answers damnit!!

Also, Yorihito makes a brief appearance here in his human form. #wtf O_o

...This is probably where Yakumo’s catchphrase ‘細かいことは気にしなくていい’ comes in handy. スルーしようと思います...

IN SUMMARY, ranking of routes from favourite to ...less favourite (there were no bad routes, I honestly enjoyed all of them and I thought all the characters were awesome in their own way ¯\_(ツ)_/¯):

Yuzuru > Yakumo > Mikoto >/≃ Narumi ≃ Rei

Ranking of side arcs from fav to less fav.:

Fuu-san > Aki/Kunugi > Sanshin > Yorihito/Nisei

ハイ終わり― +(人*´∀`)+゜:。*゜+

*

[N.B.] I actually started KamiKimi as a break from Diabolik Lovers More Blood - I’m about 3/4 of the way through Mukami Ruki’s route, and can confirm that this guy has no redeeming features whatsoever. It’s doubtful whether I’ll be able to sit through the rest of his story to get to his (hopefully sweet) ending. At least KamiKimi was a nice world where Sakurai Takahiro’s character is actually ahem *NOT AN ASSHOLE*.

(Low bar, I know, but DLMB challenges my view of common decency every time I open it...)

(Also Mikoto cried/had many emotional outbursts towards the end of the route, which is a side of Sakurai-sensei that I have never heard before. Not sure how I feel tbh. Like Sakuya in the game, I actually prefer his funny/lighthearted persona more.)

Also I’ll probably be busy with exams + school stuff for most of this month, so it would be a good idea to go for more fun/relaxing games that are not so heavy and tragic. 

One recent discovery is an old game by Broccoli called 「恋戦隊 LOVE& PEACE the P.S.P」 , which is based on the Power Rangers concept (all my childhood dreams are coming true...! *≧ω≦*) ... I previewed a chapter or so and it seems absolutely hilarious, although it’s not fully voiced so the reading part will be a P in the A but HIT ME UP YO.

And ofc, there will always be drama CDs to save the day...

[the-lupine-sojourner]

Love Conquers Amnesia [Amnesiac!Eijiro/Takara(OC)]

Hiya! I saw This video and couldn’t help thinking about KiriKara (my name for the ship. I can’t think of a better one, so if you can, leave it in a comment below!), and this is the result!  Anyway, in writing it and trying to think of a realistic way for Kiri to lose his memory, I kinda veered from the video when I meant to practically quote it, but I also like this version, so here we are! Also, if you want more domestic KiriKara, send an Ask or message me and I’ll totally write it (as long as it’s not smut. Sorry!)!!

Real quick before I begin, @dailyojiromashirao is pretty much on my permanent MHA writing taglist, cus they’re always so sweet and supportive! Love you! And maybe @elite-guard-hardygal would enjoy this, too?? IDK. Feel free to ignore, lovey! 

Now that that’s done, I will only this before we begin; I hope you all enjoy! 

God Bless and Good Day!

~The Lupine Sojourner

(P.S: This guy is my headcanon/faceclaim for Adult!Eijiro, btw. I haven’t seen Bleach, but I know he’s a character in that show. This is the face Kiri makes when he sees his waifu but doesn’t remember her yet. She startles him with her beauty! XD)

Statistically, it was probably more shocking that it took so long for this to happen, given our profession.

But, it was still very shocking to get a call in the middle of a daytime patrol. “Are you Mrs. Takara Kirishima?” The person on the other end asks. I gulp.

“Yes, this is she. Who’s calling?” I ask as politely as I can.

“The receptionist at Sanno Hospital. I’m calling to report your husband’s admittance.” Instantly, my heart plummets into my toes, and the temperature seems to drop below freezing.

“O-oh...I...Is he..?”

“He’s in surgery. We’re still unsure precisely what happened, but more details are emerging the longer we have him. The doctors are very hopeful, however.” I can’t help but not feel comforted by those words. Something could always happen. It only took one wrong move, one instant, for everything to change.

“O-okay. I’ll be there in around thirty minutes. Thank you.” I say, then hang up. I race back to my agency. The one Kiri and I shared, like everything else. I rip off my headgear and toss it into the locker along with my belt, all while calling out the situation, before sprinting for my- -our- -car. We were supposed to drive home together and have a family movie night with our five-year-old son, Senshi.

This wasn’t supposed to happen! Kiri had an amazingly defensive Quirk. How could someone have hospitalized him?!

=#=#=#=#=

“The story we’ve pieced together from the data we’ve collected is this;” the doctor explains when I arrive. “your husband was fighting an unknown villain, and somehow suffered trauma to the head, resulting in the loss of the fight, and…”

“What?” I press urgently. I needed to know!

“Well, with brain injuries...memories are the easiest to lose, we’ve found. It appears your body automatically purges memories first instead of the knowledge of how to breathe, for example. I’m sorry, Mrs. Kirishima, but there is a strong possibility that your husband won’t remember much when he wakes up.” I thank him for telling me absently, eyes peeking into the room, to Kiri laying still on the bed. “And we’re not sure when he’ll wake up. We hardly had to use anesthesia on him for the surgery; he was unconscious when he was admitted, but without any real indication that we could find as to why. I’m sorry.” I nod.

“Thanks for doing what you could, doc.” I murmur, walking slowly into the room. The man smiles sadly at me and leaves me to sit beside Kiri. His hair had to be combed down and messed around so they could run tests to see why he was still out cold, and the black hospital gown looked incredibly odd on him. His chest rose and fell rhythmically. It seemed to lull me into a doze, one I tried to fight without much luck.

=#=#=#=#=

It’s only a few hours later that I wake up, and Kiri still isn’t awake. I hold in a groan and stand, stretching out my back and arms that were sore from sleeping in the chair.

I wasn’t planning on leaving til Kiri woke up and I could ascertain for myself his condition, so I watch him. His chest goes up and down and the heart rate monitor beeps incessantly as time creeps by. It was unknown how long I sat there before I started to fall asleep again. I shook myself. I wouldn’t fall asleep again until I saw Kiri awake.

So I stood again, deciding to leave briefly to get a cup of coffee and call people. Mainly Ma, Pa (what I call Mr. and Mrs. Kirishima) and Katsuki. They deserved to know what had happened.

It went about as well as expected. They were upset (Katsuki vowing to roast Kiri for being so sloppy as to let that villain get a hit on him), but promised to get here soon.

I then got my coffee and headed back to Kiri’s room, only to find him standing and gazing at the sunrise out of his window, his IV pole clutched beside him. 

I gulp. Time to see what was what with him. I grin and walk over. “Beautiful, huh?” I ask, sipping the coffee. He flinches, jerking his head to look at me.

“Yea- -uh...did...did the doctors send you?” He asks, stunned, cheeks red. I blanch. Of course. Memory loss was a high probability, the doctor had said.

“N-no.” I murmur, gulping the coffee to avoid talking. How was I supposed to deal with this?! How long would this last?!

“Wow…” He breathes, taking me in and smiling. “You must be the prettiest woman in the whole world.” It’s almost like he wasn’t aware he was talking out loud. I blush. Even without memories of our marriage, he was attracted to me. 

“Thanks.” I reply, chuckling. It then drops. “...Do you know my name?” I ask tentatively. Eijiro frowns, scanning me again.

“...I’m sorry, but no...should I?” I sigh. Of course he wouldn’t remember...

“Takara.” I reply. “It’s Takara Kirishima.” There. I’d kinda told him. He’d have to piece it together now. His eyes narrow in thought, then go wide.

“Are you my sister?” He asks. I snort.

“No. No, I’m not.”

“Cousin?” I smile.

“Not a cousin, either.”

“...Then...what?” He asks shyly. I roll my eyes.

“I’m your wife, dummy.” I chuckle, ruffling his hair. He blinks several times, then grabs my left hand. I slip the glove I hadn’t taken off and he stares at the simple sterling silver band around my ring finger.

“...We’re married?” He exclaims, staring at my face now. I grin proudly and nod.

“Yeah. For almost six years now.”

“Whoa, really?! How do I not remember that?! Man, I hit the jackpot!” I chuckle, scratching the back of my head, cheeks scarlet. Wow...

“The doctors aren’t really sure. You were admitted to the ER unconscious and had to go into a brief surgery to try and determine what happened. They still don’t know, but my guess is a Quirk’s to blame.” Kiri nods.

“I have one, too, right? A Quirk?” I nod.

“Yup. You can harden your body using your body’s carbon. Downside is you can’t do it forever.” He frowns, then grins happily.

“I think...I think I remember that!” He cries. “I use it to fight, don’t I?”

“Yup. You’re a hero. You help a lot of people at our agency.”

“Our agency?” Eijiro asks, head tilted. I grin.

“Yeah!” Just then, I hear the door open behind us. I glance over and see Katsuki glaring from the doorway, only halfway out of his costume, as well.

“Hey! Shitty Hair! Remember me?!” Kiri turns.

“...You know me?” He asks. Katsuki does a double-take, then scoffs.

“Right. Forgot. You let a villain hit you with some dumb memory loss Quirk. Your wife called me. I was closer than your parents are, but they’ll be here.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Kiri murmurs, looking at Katsuki’s outfit. “...Are you a hero, too?” Katsuki flinches in irritation, then deflates.

“Yeah. So’s your wife, dumbass.”

“Katsuki, thanks for coming, but don’t be mean.” I warn. I knew, however, that this was just Katsuki being Katsuki. He didn’t really mean it.

“Ground Zero, right? That’s...that’s your hero name?” Kiri suddenly asks, eyes lighting happily. Katsuki smirks.

“Finally, you remember something!” I roll my eyes.

“He remembered his Quirk and that he was a hero before you got here.” I point out.

“I don’t remember my hero name, though. Or yours, Takara. Sorry.” I wave that aside.

“No worries! You wanted to model your hero image after Crimson Riot, so you chose Red Riot as your hero name as an homage.” Eijiro’s eyes light up.

“Oh, right! He’s so manly and hardcore! What’s yours?” I chuckle and rub the back of my neck awkwardly. It always sounded weird when I explained it out loud.

“Well, I’ve always liked foxes and wolves, so I chose Kitsune as my hero name.”

“That’s awesome!” I laugh.

“You had that reaction the day we chose our hero names, too.” I reminisce fondly.

“Yeah, back when you two made dopey heart-eyes at each other in class and we all pretended we didn’t see and wanna puke.” Katsuki adds, scoffing and crossing his arms. His smirk betrays his happiness, though.

“Really?” Eijiro asks, eyeing me.

“We-well, it was more like I made the heart-eyes and then, ah- -do you recall something called the USJ incident? It happened almost nine years ago…” Eijiro frowns.

“I...I think so. We were in some huge building, right? Combat training?” I shake my head.

“No.” I grimace. Even now, the memory was painful, my ribs recalling that day easily. “We were supposed to be doing rescue training.” I murmur. “Then villains attacked. My mom nearly died. She was our teacher.” Eijiro frowns.

“Oh. Right. I was the one who found you, right? Against a fountain with a nearly collapsed ribcage?” I nod.

“Yeah. That was a tough week.” He nods.

“Ah, you babies got over it.” Katsuki muses. “If you ask me, that’s when you two nerds started liking each other and making everyone around you nauseous with your mushy attitude.” Eijiro then blushes and tilts his head, scratching the back of his neck.

“Uh...Takara, I’ve been meaning to ask...do we have kids?” I smile, pulling my phone out. I pull up a picture of Senshi at his fifth birthday (just a few weeks ago), sharp teeth on display as he grins at the camera.

“Yeah; a son, Senshi.” My hand goes to my stomach subtly. I’d planned to tell him the revelation I’d had this morning, the one still waiting on our bathroom sink. But not now. I’d wait til he had more memories to tell him, though. Eijiro stares at the picture for a long minute or two, gently taking my phone.

“He’s just like me…” He murmurs. I nod.

“Yeah.” His black hair came from his father, but the large brown eyes were from my side. It was adorable, and an instant recipe for success on his end when he gave me the infamous ‘puppy eyes’. “He’s a good kid.”

“Yeah, that brat’s alright.” Katsuki admits, scoffing a little. Surprisingly, Katsuki handled Senshi well. He wasn’t usually too forceful and angry with the kid. He’d really come a long way since our high school days, when he’d terrified any child that dared look at him wrong.

“I can’t believe we’re married and have a kid..” Eijiro murmurs thickly, and I notice tears on his cheeks. “How could I have forgotten you? I’m sorry, Takara...I’m so sorry…” I hug him, tears forming in my eyes.

“Eiji, it’s okay.” I murmur, rubbing his back as he clutches me. “It’s not your fault.”

“If I’d just taken care of that villain, none of this would’ve happened.” Eijiro sobs. I blink.

“So...you remember?” I ask, drawing back just enough to look him in the eye.

“Bits and pieces. The more we talked, the more I remembered. The picture of Senshi was like the final key.” He says. “That guy’s Quirk wasn’t affected by my Hardening, and it only took a touch for it to work.” 

“Great, you remember, now stop dancing around each other and kiss already.” Katsuki grumbles before I can react. I laugh and hug Eijiro again. He’s blushing as we part a few moments later.

“...Can we?” He asks. “Can we kiss?” It was exactly what he’d said, the morning he’d confessed. We’d gone sunrise hiking and he’d asked that as we watched the dawn unfold. I smile and play with his hair, just like I had that morning.

“Of course you can.” I reply, continuing the reenactment, and he all but tackles me in elation, kissing me so eagerly, I’m pretty sure my lips are swollen and bruised.

“Oi! I know i told you to kiss, but come on! Knock it off!” Katsuki growls. I smile into the kiss and deepen it, knowing it would piss Katsuki off. Sure enough, he growls and is stalking over when Eiji pulls back to stick his tongue at Katsuki.

“Oh, lay off!” He replies. “You’re just jealous cus you’re still single.” Katsuki growls and grabs the front of Eiji’s hospital gown.

“What did you say?!” Katsuki growls.

“Oh, good; I see we were worried for nothing.” Comes the voice of my mother-in-law. I look behind Katsuki and wave.

“Hi, Ma!” I call. I generally call Mrs. Kirishima ‘Ma’ or ‘Mama’, and Mom...well, ‘mom’. “Turns out, Eiji got hit by a Quirk that knocks you out and gives you amnesia, but it’s nullified by showing the victim photos or talking about the missing memories, evidently. He remembers.” 

Ma nods. “Thank goodness.” Eijiro hugs his parents.

“Hey, guys.”

“Hello, Eijiro.” Ma replies. Pa smiles and ruffles his son’s hair.

“Gave us quite a scare there, son.” He says. “But, of course, you pulled through!” Eijiro nods.

“Cus Kirishima men always win!” He says proudly, fist-pumping his dad. I roll my eyes. That was part of the reason Kiri was so upset in Middle School; his father encouraged bravery and manliness in his son and when Eijiro failed to act in that attack, it whacked his self-esteem.

But, over time, he’d become every inch a brave, manly hero. And an even better man to be married to. I side-hug him and squeeze his side reassuringly. “And the Kirishima women will always support their man.” I add, chuckling as Ma nods.

“Agreed. Knew I liked you when I met you, Kara.” I grin.

This was what we’d always have; a family to fall back on, no matter how bad or weird things get. Family is priority. Always.

Crappy ending is crappy, but hope you liked the rest! XD

[last-flight-of-fancy]

fatedeniedhope replied to your post “* sees people confused over various kh plot points * * is not people i...”

I would like yo know a bit. Only play kh 1 and chain of memories and half way to kh 2

oh boy there is a *lot* to cover here then!

I don’t mean that to sound intimidating, kh just has a tendency for long, sprawling interconnected plots (many of which are still unresolved even now)

i am also doing this entirely by memory, so if i’ve skimmed something i shouldn’t have its because my brain has stopped registering it as important; feel free to ask for clarification, i wrote this in one sitting because i was avoiding doing laundry XD

putting a cut because i am overviewing a Lot of game here and tbh there’s still a lot of stuff i am skimming or skipping entirely. I’m just trying to hit the highlights.

i don’t know where you stopped in 2, so i’m just gonna give a brief overview

-there is a boy named roxas

-he’s being hunted by these strangers called nobody’s

-things get weird

-turns out he’s sora’s nobody, as nobody’s are created when a person is turned into a heartless (which sora did during kh1)

-roxas returns to sora (”looks like my summer vacation is.. over...” whoops there goes my heart) and normal sora gameplay resumes.

-DIDNEY WORLDS

-turns out everyone forgot sora for a year bc of what happened in chain of memories (and also 358/2. dont worry about that yet we’ll get there). kairi sends out a bottle to “the boy she can’t remember” trying to call him home. (yes this is important)

-organization 13 (all what? eight of them left?) pops up, xemnas is cryptic, and they say their goal is to recreate kingdom hearts via sora killing heartless, since apparently only killing heartless with a keyblade sends the trapped hearts to Kingdom Hearts

      -this version of the tale persists through 358 as well. it’s.. half right.

-bla bla bla, shenanigans. there’s ansem (the boss from kh1) and a guy named diz. That isn’t who either of them actually are. It’s actually Riku (who tapped too far into the darkness trying to capture roxas for the whole twilight town scenario at the beginning of the game, thus altering his appearance to look like the guy who posessed him for a bit) and THE ACTUAL ANSEM (ie, the ruler(?) of radient garden before it fell, and the guy heartless ansem stole his name from.

-anyways

-sora goes off searching for riku, bc as far as he knows, he’s still lost out in the darkness.

-he’s not, he’s fine, but he’s super embarrassed about the whole ‘looking like the enemy’ thing and won’t let sora find him.

-sora casually murders most of the remaining organization members (only most of whom shot first)

-this continues on until axel attempts to kidnap kairi, who ends up in twilight town for a bit hanging out with the hayner/pence/ollete trio, before being slightly more successfully kidnapped a second time.

-and then she gets kidnapped again by saix. Axel apologises to sora over this. in his defence, he’s pretty desperate at this point (he just wants his friend(s) back)

-sora storms The World That Never Was, kairi is rescued by Namine.

-the trio finally meets up (namine disapeared at some point? yknow, i actually dont recall what happened to her in between these scenes), sora and kairi share a slightly awkward but sweet hug, and after a moments trepidation over ‘Ansem’, kairi tells/shows him its riku, at which point sora bursts into tears.

-i ship a lot of ot3′s, but sorikai is the OG ot3

-anyways

-namine and roxas have a very symbolic moment refusing with their Other’s, Namine opens a portal back to destiny islands so they can go home.

-everyone except sora and riku make it through, and thus commences several final fantasy style boss fights

-they win, of course, riku’s injured in the line of battle, and they limp out, having traversed several realms during the course of this battle, they’re now trapped on a beach in the realm of darkness. it’s the same beach everyone else seems to end up on in this place. There is only one beach in the RoD apparently

-they stay there a while, and then they pick up a message in a bottle; it’s from kairi, “to the boy she can’t remember”

-Feelings make a door to the light open, and sora and riku fall like actual comets from the sky and everybody’s reunited and happy. huzzah!

-.... well for a while anyways.

-should i get into the whole xemnas/xehanort/ansem thing here?

-eh

-okay so

-lets swing back into Birth By Sleep for a bit

-(im sorry if kh can’t hit any of its plot points in order i think its fair neither do i)

-BBS takes place roughly nine years prior to kh1, with the exception of bbs’s prologue, which i would estimate as being an additional four years prior to that

-during said prologue, we meet Master Xehanort, an incredibly old dude with brown skin, gold eyes, and a white beard. even newcomers to the series will probably recognise that only one type of person gets those colours in these games.

-we also meet baby Ventus, Xehanorts apprentice. He looks exactly like Roxas.

-shenanigans happen, Xehanort splits Ven’s heart in two, creating Vanitas, who is Ventus’s darkness.

-Vanitas’ whole shtick is he wants to be reunited with Ventus, ostensibly to create the X-blade (yes it’s pronounced exactly the same as ‘keyblade’ and yes, every single kh fan ive ever talked to has found this annoying af)

-unfortunately being split in two like that puts ven in a coma, and xehanort takes the unresponiseve body to destiny islands to dump it like unwanted ravioli

-luckily for ven, “a brand new hear” hears his hurt and reaches out to help, filling out the gaps left in his and allowing him to start recovering

-the heart is sora

-actual, literal baby sora reaching out to help people before he can even walk yet. 

-the game never spells this out explicitly, which makes it an easy plot point to miss if you aren’t paying attention

-ven doesn’t recover immidietly though, and xehanort sends him to live with his old friend Master Eraqus and his two teenage apprentices, Aqua and Terra

-here’s where we time skip, ventus is fully recovered, terra and aqua are young adults and about to take their Mark Of Mastery exams for becoming keyblade masters.

-Terra fails because he has darkness in his heart and also xehanort rigged it against him

-aqua passes and becomes a master. I love her very much.

-terra journey’s out to try and figure out where the darkness comes from

-vanitas taunts ven saying terra’s leaving him bc ven’s stupid or something and ven panics and chases after him (he’s like 14 and has a bit of a hero worship thing, stupid decisions are par for the course)

-eraqus sends aqua out to both spy on terra (he words it nicer but thats the gist of it), which aqua doesn’t particularly like but trusts her masters judgement and does it, and bring ventus home, which she is more on board with

-the biggest tragedy in bbs is that no one talks to each other

-stuff happens, they learn some stuff, aqua’s route has So Many Lesbian Feels with every single princess she runs into it brings me great delight

-Ventus learns the whole ‘fight your darkness to become the X-blade’ plot, eraqus learns this too and tries to kill ven. Terra busts in at the last moment and saves ven, at this point using his dark powers fully.

-#terrawasright

-eraqus dies, which i don’t think terra fully intended to do (he just wanted to save ven) and if you recall the scene in kh1 where kairi catches a falling sora only for him to burst into a bunch of floating glitter? imagine that but with two grown men

-aqua’s just trying to figure out whats going on. she gets to meet kairi (saves her from some heartless and then puts a charm on her necklace to keep her safe) and then meets Mickey, who will be our future duex ex machina

-they all meet for the final battle.

-ven asks his friends to murder him

-no one does that

-what the fuck ven

-they fight, and a lot of stuff sorta happens at the same time

-1: terra fights xehanort, who has essentially been spending the whole game prepping terra to be his next host. xehanort is a body snatcher confirmed. xehanort wins, terra becomes the fanon-named terranort.

-2: ventus fights vanitas. vanitas reveals his face, and he looks exactly like a colour swapped version of sora. (also voiced by the same voice actor! it’s actually surprsingly difficult to notice this if you don’t have some kind of clue already because haley joel osment does and *amazing* job). ventus wins, the X-blade is not forged, but as a lot of this battle takes place in his heart, the effects are bad and ven falls into a coma (he reaches out once more, and another hearts answers. “you can stay here a while, I don’t mind” says the other heart. yes its fucking sora again. too good, too pure)

-3: aqua gets knocked out to start with, but then she fights vanitas controlling ventus’ body, which eventually gets sorted out. terra’s dissapeared at this point, and she takes a comatose ven and hides him in the land of departure, which she uses a secret mechanism to turn into Castle Oblivion (and thus, impossible to navigate  without her key)

-aqua goes to hunt down terra(nort), and finds him in radiant garden. they fight, aqua wins, but when he begins to sink into the darkness she sacrifices herself to save him (which is how he ends up as one of ansem’s apprentices and mostly without any memories)

-aqua will spend the next ten years in the realm of darkness

-bbs is such a goddam tragedy

-OKAY

-time to fast forward

-so sora and ven are connected, which is why vanitas and roxas look the way they do, which brings us to

-the case of xion

-and 358/2

-the worst game to play but my absolute favourite in terms of slow-burn pacing and emotionally investing you in the characters

-this game pretty much just deals with the year sora spent asleep, and the kids time in the organization.

-roxas wakes up with no memories, is inducted into the org, and told “kill heartless with your keyblade”. He’s more or less a zombie at first, and accepts this without question.

-a week later, a new member is introduced, named Xion, who also has a keyblade, and is also a zombie with no memories at first

-Axel, the org’s assassin, is basically told to babysit them both

-he’s not really into it at first, but those natural Big Brother instincts kick in Hard about five minutes later and from that point on he’s mostly just trying to keep them both alive.

-oh, also Lea, Axel’s somebody, met Ventus in bbs, so that was probably a little weird for him.

-as the game goes on and these kids essentially learn how to human and try to figure out what makes them different, the Big Plots stew in the background. Axel and Saix have some kind of plan that Axel apparently isn’t sticking to, and Axel questions his loyalties more as the game goes on and circumstances force him to choose between two kids Who Did Nothing Wrong, and his oldest friend.

-Xion learns they are a replica, a la Repliku, created as a backup to roxas if he could not fulfil his duty in creating kingdom hearts. their connection with roxas, and through him sora, has the unintended side effect of flitering memories and feelings into and through Xion.

-this is why putting sora back together takes so long

-Xion, between the pressure of being an org member in general, and the mental load from being caught between three+ people in a very literal sense, has a breakdown. Riku finds them, and despite a pretty rocky start between them, helps them through it.

-Xion leaves at two different points, the first time, Axel brings them back. “please don’t hold back, Axel. Promise.” “Everyone always thinks they’re right”

-excuse me i have to lay down again after thinking about how emotionally wrought this scene is.

-(the alternative is he has to kill them. he does everything he can to avoid that, but it’s clearly approaching an unsustainable situation; the org is running out of patience for dealing with the ‘clearly defective replica’, xion doesnt feel this situation is right, and axel just wants to keep everyone alive.

-yes typing ‘clearly defective replica’ physically hurt me. xion is a perfect bab and xemnas can fite me

-Xion leaves again

-Roxas, learning pieces of this but not all, runs away from the org. cue titular “no one would me” “that’s not true!” scene from 2

-(this leads to what is a hilariously depressing scene of roxas on the clocktower looking at his life and going “where could i even run to? I havent got anywhere to go” because he’s never known anything other than the organization and whoops i made myself sad again)

-namine explains to xion that sora can never wake up so long as they have his memories. The only way for them to release the memories is to die. It’s a hard decision.

-Xion meets roxas on the clocktower, feigns insanity, and goads him into fighting them (”do you see my face, roxas? is it a boys face? don’t you see. I have to make you a part of me too.”)

-cue more ff style boss fights

-xion dies

-look i can’t go into detail on this one i’ll start crying again, xion dies, everyone forgets they ever existed, and roxas gets to watch them shatter into dust in his arms.

-in the brief period where the memories are quickly vanishing but Not Quite Gone Yet roxas goes into a Roaring Rampage of Revenge and storms the World That Never Was

-this is where Riku catches up to him, and from there its a pretty straight shot into the beginning of kh2

-which im sure if you played these in chronological order would be *some kind of mood whiplash* i bet

-okay what have i missed

-recoded happened. the only important part here is that malificent and pete find out about the black box and malificent being malificent of course she Has To Have It

-”but whats the black box??” you ask

-good question

-we still dont know

-its  origin point is in KHUx though, 

-which is the multiplayer mobile game set during the Keyblade War of ages past. each weilder also has a companion dream eater named chirithy

-there are five unions, each headed by a leader and represented by an animal (unicorn, bear, snake, fox, and leopard)

-#anguisforlife

-these five (plus one more, named luxu) are each given roles by their master (the Master of Masters, or also known as MoM). He also tells them there is a traitor amongst the warriors of light. it’s unclear at this point how much of this he is directly steering. He also doesnt specifiy Which warriors of light, probably on purpose so everything happens as it should.

-so figure, trying to figure out who the traitor is is a pretty direct cause to no one trusting each other and eventually going for each others throats

-there is a page from the book of prophecies he gives only to luxu, who he tells that his role is to see the future with this Special Keyblade (and specifically the Eye in it). You might recognise it as xehanorts keyblade (and then you’ll start to see the Eye in a whole bunch of other ones too, notably in soul edge, way to dawn, and void gear)

-luxu fucks off, and everyone else goes about their business

-the first half of khux details how these unions came to  be rivals, and then how they fell into war with each other and destroyed the light. the second half detailed how Ava, leader of the fox union, created a fifth group known as the dandelions, specifically picked to survive the fall of the light and rebuild.

-ventus and lauriam are two of these leaders. No, we still don’t know how they got from one point to the other.

-one of the replacement leaders, strelitzia, got murdered and replaced by someone else. i think this plot point has been resolved in japan but i havent checked yet

-strelitzia is lauriam’s sister. she also knows elrena.

-and if you’re bad at anagraming like i am, lauriam=marluxua, and elrena=larxene

-so yeah figure that one out for me

-also i love strelitzia she has like two scenes total and i was already ludicrously attached help

-(Yes i screamed very hard during that One Scene in 3. we dont even see her face but it’s heerrrrrrrr)

-anyways

-right the black box

-luxu is seen carrying it off in the Back Cover movie as he wanders into exile. we still dont know whats in it. and that’s basically that.

-which leaves just Dream Drop Distance

-sora and riku take a Highly Modified mark of master exam under yen sid.

-things go wrong almost immidietly

-sora gets trapped by the xehanorts in a deep sleep, where they plan to use him as one of their 13 vessels of darkness

-there has to be 13 for some reason

-13 darknesses, and 7 lights, and when they clash it’ll make the X-blade

-because reasons

-it’s fate or something

-riku rescues him

-there is time travel involved now

-because at this point the 13 darkness now include; heartless ansem, master xehanort, xemnas, young xehanort, xigbar, and saix.

-more time travel will be involved later, but to keep this in mind the rules of time travel here are

     -you cannot take your body with you

     -you lose any future knowledge you gain if and when you return

-things are obviously wibbly here because it’s half in the dreamscape, but just. keep those rules in mind when you play 3.

....... im sure im missing a bunch but i just spent two hours writing the most casual pre-kh3 synopsis ever i hope you can forgive me XD

[anoms-world]

…… i hate it all being trapped spirtually its like waiting for me to die i thought you understand/care/love me

look up there is,, light in the sky*

555

when u r all exited for talk carried by observing notes and ingnore you and judge you before even starting is soo triggiring cant fight the argue and the need for new thoughts so its become inflimated so fast like fire oh and for some reason of the lack of creativety the worst secret you would say slipped away and now ironcaly finally it caused attenchin and inrests and maybe absisin to talk about with someone else ,,, any other creative way to eat my soul or destroy? cant even deal with my black eyes after my high blind optimistic hope with planned hope for abstract conflicting answers been destroyed left me confuse and bitter to recall all this fall under regret and for some reason its feel great to feel regret too soon as things belong to it rule and it place and it time to nothingness to silent gloom

ireally dont know if im ok really dont i never had the whole expierment to share stupid stories and laugh at it and grow out of it unstead ive been sended stirght to cicled death cause im trapped here by there sith and not my wish respecti wasnt enough for them and also kinda too late to act likr teen now i acted as the hell bottom of confuion bc i am i was and still beside i never found who would comfort me to say it was normal they just insisting on control me mentally the game they know in return i was like who was possessed cant find peace anywhere cant find sleep tey rather to escape reality every single time cause i dont change my mind easily like most ppl do unless have real weird quistion an attemp to change my mind by my other self my shadow and as usual stupid agressive ppl choose to attack without questions

i dont know what worse eating my share or pretenting its ok to eat my share enogh to make me scared finally to blind death and not to 9life really shocked by this low attued cant sleep i guess i was hungry for the first time XD its unlike the other unusual days, do u judge me by this pathitic weak angle for unresisted unusual natural time call? weird cant see them self by the other kind of calls,, so low adventage even to themself lmao not to metion they claimed i do unfotunes things on porpuse.. if they believe things are connected then this theory also correct they just assholes without personal principle after all glad to know that i know i am too already i didnt tried to fake that atleast

limit b12 estrogen and salt water potasium and salt need water to work

she burst out of the blue in disapointing and claim i dont know love lol she right i dont know love this it the true nature of my personal sin i was close enough these days to her as the need to feel something and she realized how weak and annoying and she want to destroy the parts she hate the most which means me all of me or simply we were decived by hope from deferent sources simetime i notice my self coping someone else nature when am afraid or trying to mimic society and all is temporeay my true nature would eat me alive in an adventage resising my pretending destroying the new nature im trying to copy she dont understand seeing me change temporary had her hope up and my hope up for seeing her happy for me as im trying to please i shouldnt try to be close yet i really cant help it i dont want to cause more damages than we already do to ourself by hope to be understood beside she said i was low going backwardas as i was closer might she right and cant figure out anyway around again bc trapped irl problems and uniq rare satiuation as if being cursed and blissed at the same time

[tumblunni]

Ohhh fuckin geez at least let me has a pikachu

Today's update: still feeling all fucked up from Everything Happening At Once, also getting a migraine from all the stress the other day and how i basically didnt sleep for two days and then passed out today and lost the entire 24 hours. Like man i cant even say the family shit was yesterday?? It just feels that way cos i spent all of today either sleeping, crying or crying on the phone to the bank and the stupid online game store that took my money for pokemon preorder yet didnt send me the actual game. GAHHHH and ive forgotten to Eat Food for like the whole three days all this shit has been going down, aside from a handful of Starburst candy my sis gave me during our Big Awkward Moment. And the energy drink i chugged on the way there to meet her because Fuck I Need Awakeness To Comprehend This Shit. I think my stomach is exploding in on itself.

Anyway! ANYWAY!! Gahhh! Anyway!

Thank you mega fuckin big much to the friends who leant me money AGAIN, both to catch the midnight bus to meet a long lost sibling and also to fix this stupid game preorder bollocks. God what the fuck is up with my life? I feel so guilty asking for money and man you guys have leant me like 300 in the last 3 months! Fuck i hope this stupid cavalcade of finance problems stops soon and i can start paying you all back because JESUS CHRIST. I feel like my skin is melting off my bones whenever i think about how much i dont deserve such great friends! 'welp yeah theyre wonderful people, guess i lost an arm' You ever wanna cringe yourself into a little ball from embarassment? Yeah like that but so much that i disintegrate into atoms.

SO I HOPE! FOR FUCKIN GODS SAKE! That this stolen money zero game bullshit gets resolved soon. But there's no chance of it taking less than a week, so thank you SO MUCH for helping me place another preorder at a different more reliable shop! This is what i get for fuckin going bargain hunting aaa. I ordered pikachu version just in case the original order does somehow turn up, cos it was eevee version. But i got none of the preorder bonuses anymore and no pokeball controller on this. I guess maybe itll make my second playthru more fun if i can finally use the damn controller, haha! And this second copy is probably gonna arrive quite late now cos i missed the preorder window. But it should be either on saturday or monday which is way better than waiting a month or something chasing up this bullshit! And hopefully also in a week or two i will get the money back from selling alll those preowned games, and it can go towards A: GROCERIES and B: repaying bebst friends of reckless money giving. You guys are fuckin nuts, seriously!! And man god i hate that im still suffering this knock-on effect tight finances bullshit from the stupid mental hospital thing 3 months ago. I mean i failed to even last a month there and its cost me almost a thousand pounds in terms of stocking up the stuff to be able to move house temporarily, all the mobile data i had to use while being without internet while i was there, all the miscellaneous expenses along the way, and then all the bill debt and having to restock tolietries and groceries and everyries when i got back home. Sighhh! And i feel guilty that i bought a stupid warhammer starter kit around halloween and i still havent even opened it because The Guilt. Like man i should have somehow predicted there would be more money trouble and saved that money rather than make a selfish purchase. But like it was the cheapest beginners kit anyway and i even haggled a discount for getting the figures without the paint. And now im being selfish and getting this pokemon game!! Twice!! Because stupid fuckin online banking nonsense!! Godddd give me back my money so i can give it to my friendsssss

So yeah in summary Bunni Feel Bad and also Overwhelmed and also Bad. But hopefully stuff is sorted now. Gah!

Also probably will be some delay on doing a lets play of this new pokemon cos i dunno when its gonna arrive and also i feel Big Sick now and need to chug a paracetamol and eat a loaf of bread before i die. Hope i dont spend all weekend just passed out on the sofa from Too Much Braining In One Day. Srsly why did this all happen all at once...

Also i probably wont go with the idea of twin protagonists headcanon for this LP, cos the whole Untimely Lost Sibling Madness kinda made that a sore spot to think about. One good side of getting the version i didnt want is that i can pick the female protagonist if i get pikachu version, and go with the personality i was gonna use for the female sibling. Cos actually it seems that your rival dude's perosnality is kinda simular to what i was gonna do for the male sibling? Could just have that sort of relationshup as a best buddies thing. And playing as a sassy roughhousing jock girl protag is gonna be more fun than playing The Nice And Shy Dude which is basically what i always do in every game cos its just me??? Would get more fun character lets player contrast with protagonist Darcy.

Also fuck i am gonna have SO MUCH to talk about in this first episode! Watchers who dont follow me on tumblr are gonna be so confused. "Hey youtube i just got out of mental hospital and found my long lost sister who thought i was dead, anyway never mind that lets talk about pokemon! I was gonna say i dont have any baby pictures of me when the original Pokemon Yellow came out, but here's the one i found on a facebook obituary for myself yesterday..."

What the fuck is my life, seriously?

Also if my starter ends up being a male pikachu im gonna name it Chuppy after my original one in pokemon yellow. And if its a girl i'll call it Ghostwriter after my mimikyu and pretend that its a mimikyu that just has an extra high quality disguise. Seriously, picturing all of these cute antics and tiny costumes on mimikyu makes it all even sweeter to me! I love ghosties!!

LOL I JUST REALIZED MAYBE IM A GHOST TRAINER COS I WAS "DEAD" ALL THESE YEARS AND DIDNT KNOW IT

Seriously man if there are any parents out there reading this, dont fuckin lie to your 4 year old that her sibling is dead just because the dad divorced you. There are no words for how fucked up this is. Except 'oh i guess thats why my favourite digimon frontier character is duskmon'. I fuckin thought that plot was unrealistic when i first watched it! XD actually i think duskmon is straight up my favourite digimon design and the one i'd probably pick as my partner, even though i prefer Impmon's plot from the third season. I kinda wanna go make a fanmade full evolution line for Duskmon now?? Man why am i getting so wildly off topic!

I really need to eat a food and sleep a sleep