#so I feel terrible and extremely lethargic at all times

[rowanhoney]

I’ll be like hmmmmmm I’m definitely not chronically ill but I wonder why I feel sick and physically defeated every day

[icewindandboringhorror]

Bad news, got back from the vet and my beautiful baby son is going to have to be put down soon, probably tomorrow or the next day, so send him best of wishes for his next few days~ Luckily, he's actually not in a lot of pain (for now, hopefully he won't be) and is acting pretty normal, so I'm hoping he won't suffer at all and everything will be peaceful for him.

[drabblesandimagines]

Farmhand

Wordcount: 1676

Pairings: Sebastian x Farmer, Sebastian x Reader

You’d felt tired all day, but you especially felt lethargic now that you’d finished your chores for the day. There had been an annoying tickle in your throat all day and it probably wasn’t helped by the drizzle that you’d worked in for a few hours. There had been no other way about it, you needed to get those seeds in the ground today if you wanted another crop out before the season’s end.

You secured the barn and coop doors for the evening, making sure there was enough hay for the animals in case they got peckish. You headed inside for a warm shower, hoping it would perk you up but it had no effect and your head was starting to thud.

You were meant to be playing Soliaran with the boys tonight, but the more you thought about the journey to and back from Sebastian’s and how late it would probably end up being. You hated to let him down though, but you also knew you wouldn’t play at your best. Reluctantly, you got your phone and rang your boyfriend’s number. Sebastian had warned you he wasn’t great on the phone – he much preferred text messages or via the app – but you knew he often missed messages until much later and you didn’t want him to think you’d just forgot about the whole thing.

After a few rings, he picked up.

“Hey, Y/N. All okay?”

“Hi, Seb. I’m not feeling so well. I think I could do with an early night, but I hate to let you guys down… I’ve been feeling tired all day and I’ve got an awful headache now. Ugh, I’m sorry, I feel the worst!”

“Sweetheart,” he began – oh, whenever he called you that still made your stomach do somersaults, “it’s fine, don’t stress. Do you want me to get Harvey?”

“No, it’s nothing serious as that. I think I just need a seriously early night. Going to sleep past midnight and getting up at six must be catching up on me.” Your alarm clock had felt pretty brutal the last few days.

“Do you want me to cancel and come round? I’d be happy to.”

“That’s sweet but it’s okay.” You smiled as you opened the fridge, perusing the contents. “Honestly, I’m going to heat up some soup and then go to bed – I’d be extremely dull company.”

“Only if you’re sure. The others would understand.”

“Please don’t cancel for me, Seb. I’d feel terrible. I’ll catch up next time, okay?”

“Okay. But you’ll call me if you feel any worse, right? I can be right over.”

“I promise. I’m pretty sure I’ll be dead to the world once I get in bed, though.”

“I’ll miss you.” You could hear his pout through the phone.

“I miss you too. Love you, have fun!” You stressed.

“I love you too. Rest well.”

True to your word, you ate some leftover soup, left the dirty dishes in the sink – something you hated doing most of the time – and treated yourself to a fresh pair of pyjamas and crawled into your bed before the clock even hit 8pm.

--

Sebastian hadn’t slept well. He’d had fun with Sam and Abigail and they’d left just after midnight. He’d sat at his laptop for a couple of hours after that, keeping his phone close incase you’d rang. At around 3am he’d got into bed and must’ve had a few hours sleep as now the clock read just after 6am. He’d checked his phone, but there were no messages from you. That wasn’t unusual either – you knew he slept late into the morning and wouldn’t want to disturb him. He considered texting you but having stayed over at the farm a few times now, you weren’t one to take your phone out with you on your early morning chores. He placed his phone back down on the floor and tried to settle down but his mind was whirring. He wanted to see you and you’d be up anyway, right? He groaned as he got himself out of bed, he then quickly threw on jeans and his usual sweatshirt, picking up his keys and heading upstairs and out.

Thankfully, the sun was pretty low in the sky and he didn’t meet anyone taking the back route to your farm. Something was off, though, as he reached the top gate and let himself in – it was quiet. On nights he slept over, he’d soon got used to the sounds of the animals grazing in the morning. The chickens were always particularly vocal after being let out of the coop but as he walked past the door, it was firmly shut.

He checked the time on his watch – 06.45. That was super unlike you, unless you just didn’t want them out today? No, that didn’t make sense. It was often your first task in the morning to go and open the doors, and the only morning he hadn’t seen you do it was when it was a torrential downpour as the animals much preferred staying cosy inside.

Sebastian climbed up the porch steps and knocked, tentatively. Maybe you’d changed your morning routine since the last time he’d stayed – it had been over a week ago. He waited a moment or two but there was no response, no muffled sounds behind the door. Beginning to worry, he dug his keys out his pocket and swiftly found the one to your front door, easing it in the lock and twisting it before swinging the door open.

The living room was empty and there was no sign of you in the kitchen, but your bedroom door was slightly ajar and he could hear deep, heavy breathing. He crept over and peered through to see you fast asleep in the bed, a pillow over your eyes. You must be exhausted. He hovered his fist over your bedroom door, about to knock when he lowered his arm back down to his side. You were always working so hard, he couldn’t remember you ever mentioning a lie-in the whole time you’d known each other – every day it was up at 6am, rain or shine, feeding the animals, watering the crops, preparing the ground for the next lot of seeds… It seemed relentless, all that plus the other stuff living in Pelican Town meant – helping out your neighbours, maintaining friendships and a relationship with him. He began to wonder how you even had enough hours in the day. He retreated, heading back and out the front door, silently locking it behind him.

His eyes turned to the barn and he nodded in determination – he’d seen you do it enough times…

--

You stretched your arms over your head, feeling a bit stiff from the position you must’ve slept in, but otherwise you felt good. Far more rested than you could remember feeling in months. You rubbed your eyes, noting that the sun seemed pretty high this morning, especially since it must be before 6 since you hadn’t heard your alarm go off yet.

You looked over to your bedside table and your stomach sank when you realized it was past 10am. What the…? Had you turned it off in your sleep?! You cursed, scrambling out of the sheets, popped to the bathroom and then quickly got dressed, trying to remember exactly what you had on your to-do list today.

You unlocked the door and stepped out onto the porch to be greeted by the gentle cluck of the chickens pecking at the dirt down by the steps. Had you not closed the doors last night? No, you were sure you had, but that didn’t explain how the cows, goats, sheep, pigs and chickens were now all roaming amongst the grass.

Suddenly, Sebastian ducked out of the chicken coop, a basket in hand and your heart skipped a beat. He caught sight of you standing dumbfounded on the porch and smiled shyly.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

You jumped down the porch steps and over to the fence, where he met you on the other side. His basket was filled with chicken eggs.

“I, er… I hope you don’t mind. I came by early and I saw the animals were still inside, so I checked on you and you were dead to the world. I thought you could do with the extra sleep, so I tried to get on with your morning jobs.”

“Seb, you are the sweetest man alive!” You squealed, pulling him forward by the scruff of his sweatshirt into a kiss. The man’s usually pale complexion turned a cute shade of pink as he blushed.

“It’s nothing,” he shrugged. “You work really hard, Y/N. Are you feeling any better?”

“So much better,” you stressed, opening the gate for him. “I think I must’ve slept something ridiculous like 14 hours. What did you get up to?”

“Er, well, I let all the animals out to graze, and I topped up the hay a bit. I’ve collected the fallen fruit, turned the sprinklers on, cleared some of the weeds in the crop patches and I just finished collecting the eggs… It doesn’t seem much considering the time.” He finished with a yawn while you stared at him, momentarily sunned.

“Sebastian, please, that’s loads! I can’t believe you did all that for me. Here,” you took the basket from him and grabbed his hand. “That calls for a coffee break.” You led him towards the porch. “Or maybe even a nap? You look exhausted, did you even sleep last night?”

“A bit,” he shrugged as the two of you entered the farmhouse.

“Go,” you pushed him towards the sofa, “Lie down whilst I brew up the coffee.” You had the strongest suspicion Sebastian wouldn’t make it till then.

He yawned, loudly, before settling down and resting his head back against the arm. “Okay, but only for a moment. Still got cows to milk…”

By the time the coffee was brewed, you could hear light snores coming from the sofa. “Sleep well, farmhand.” You whispered, kissing him on the forehead.

[nothing0fnothing]

Have any of you ever recovered from a human bite? Because Jesus it's rough and I'm gonna vent about experience with it.

I was bitten on the scalp by my mother when I was eighteen. She was mad I couldn't fit through a door that only opened about 40cm, so she attempted to drag my body through the gap in the door, and when I got stuck she just began attacking every part of my body that she could get to.

She dug nails into my arms and face, left grazes across my body where it made contact with the door and the fame, punched my face, kicked my leg and worst of all, bit my scalp so hard it broke skin.

It was a crazy kind of thing. The type of thing that makes you realise this person isn't normal, this person isn't safe. This person who is supposed to care and protect me just went to all lengths to deal me trauma and pain.

I was made homeless directly after the attack, so going to the hospital or receiving basic first aid didn't seem high priority. So I never received it. The recovery was terrible.

In the first 6 or so hours after the attack, the bite site started to swell and feel hot and tender. It was so sore and painful I didn't even have the courage to clean the affected area. It hurt to touch any part around the bite and it was hard to sleep.

I stayed at a friend's spare bedroom and when I woke up roughly 14 hours after the bite, I had full body aches and chills. My neck and shoulders felt stiff. I felt cold even though whole body was burning up. I had a killer headache and I felt like I'd contracted the flu. I was convinced this was just a reaction to the stress of being attacked the day before. I had no idea human bites are as dangerous as they are. They're some of the highest risk bites to people. If you're ever bitten by a human and it breaks skin, you absolutely need to be smarter than I was and get medical treatment or first aid right away.

I got dressed and went to school. Where I felt lethargic and drowsy all day. The pain in my bite was now throbbing and I finally, 20 hours after the bite incident, had a the common sense realisation that I should probably wash the bite site.

I was in the girls toilet in my college. I used antibacterial soap out of the dispenser and leaned my head into the basin to flush the wound out with warm water.

It hurt like fuck. It had scabbed over and was incredibly swollen, so breaking up the scab with dispenser soap stung like a bastard. I was hissing and cursing with my head in a sink in my free period when my head of year saw me and asked what I was doing.

It was such an uncomfortable thing to explain.

Sorry sir, I'm just cleaning up a wound because last night I was bitten. Yes on the scalp. By my mum. Yeah it really hurts.

He had known about a different extreme blow up that happened in my home a few weeks prior and he knew I hadn't been staying at my parents house the last few weeks.

I had to explain how I was lured home with the promise I was wanted back and things would be better, only to become the victim of the assault minutes after I walked through the front door.

I could tell he had never dealt with a situation this bad before and I felt awful, I really did. I was sat in his office, shivering and pale with soaking wet hair and it was obvious he had no idea what to do with me. He couldn't send me home. He couldn't keep me here.

I came into college sick and shivering for a few days before eventually the sickness subsided and I recovered from the bite. I was still blotchy with bruises and cuts by the time the infection was gone. My right side of my body was tender and sore and grazed. It meant it was hard to do anything without it hurting.

I walked around with no confidence, terrified of everyone and everything for a couple of weeks after the incident. Anything could hurt me so I avoided other students for the whole time. I used my free periods to sit alone in the study area with a cup of coffee just, spacing out into oblivion.

He checked in on me every once in a while. I remember I once spaced out in the post traumatic stress haze I was in, I completely missed the bell that prompted me I needed to be in class.

He could see me in the study area from his desk in the office and I think he noticed I'd just been sitting blankly for 40 minutes and hadn't moved when I was supposed to be in class. He very kindly sat next to me and asked if I was okay. It scared the shit out of me but it also meant a lot that he cared, you know?

[flock-talk]

my bird stole several bites of oatmeal that had a little maple syrup in it and im panicking a little bit about the sugar & artificial flavoring. it wasn’t my oatmeal, it was my girlfriend’s and she didn’t realize she had to keep an eye on her food so my bird wouldn’t eat it.

[maple syrup anon] I’ve become so paranoid about my bird and what she eats, like she steals so many small crumbs of stuff that i can’t be sure is bird safe & i feel like im doing a terrible job because like i try not to eat anything dangerous for her but obviously i can’t do that all the time & im sure she’s stolen stuff she’s not supposed to have & im afraid it’s all gonna accumulate and make her sick

It's okay anon! Neither maple syrup, sugars, or artificial flavours are outright toxic for birds. Getting a couple bites is extremely unlikely to do them harm. Ingredients like that are just things you want to avoid because they lack nutritional value, eating a lot of it would take up valuable tummy space from more nutrition dense foods. Eating a little bit is unlikely to cause major problems outside of a couple runny poops as they kick the sugar out of their system. For reference the extremely popular nutriberries are held together by corn syrup, that's just straight sugar that a lot of birds eat multiple times a day (they even recommend them as a staple diet).

It's understandable to feel afraid and worried, you just want to keep them safe and healthy and birds are oh so sensitive that every tiny thing feels like a big failure. But it's not, and you're doing great! The fact that you're this aware of the potential hazards they could have come in to contact with shows how much attention you pay to details like that. It really shows how much effort and care you put in them.

In terms of things accumulating it's largely unlikely, bird digestive systems are efficient (that's why they poop so often!). So most "bad" things they've eaten will have run through their system and been resolved long before another "bad" thing gets in there. Unless there's an actual blockage occurring where something isn't able to be digested or passed through the system. And in that case you would absolutely see the signs, they'd be very lethargic and not behaving like themselves. If that is a concern then a vet can usually diagnose that problem easily with a quick x ray, and the resolution is often just a dose of laxatives for small ingested materials.

If you're finding that crumbs are really stressing you out and impacting your day then my best advice would be to make meal times a solo activity and try to establish a quick wipe down routine. You could also use meal times as a fun training time where your bird gets their own snacks for being on a nearby stand doing tricks and behaviours that are incompatible with thievery. That may be a fun way to reduce stress surrounding meal times!

I do want you to know that you're not alone in these feelings, we all struggle with whether or not we're making the best choices for our birds, we've all had them get a hold of something they shouldn't have, this is a universal bird care experience. It's okay! and it does get easier as you develop management strategies and routines around the elements that you're finding the most stress in.

[lesless]

wanna hear my conspiracy theory

I mean sure we all know the government puts profits over people & the information age has led to a saturation of true & false claims etc etc but I think that the US certainly absolutely knows that having soybean oil in everything & cooking exclusively with veggie oil in general is terrible for the human ecosystem & on top of that there are so many things required to be added to premade food to make it "shelf stable" & tons of them are terrible for your body as well but I think personally that the result of this is similar to the lead in gasoline issue we had in the past which caused aggression, health problems, etc.

I think to some degree food additives/excess processed plant oils effects everyone, some only somewhat & others quite a lot lot. Here is my anecdotal, nonscientific evidence:

Due to my being extremely sensitive to legumes, of which soybean oil is in everything, we mainly eat the food we cook at home (which is a privilege, as I work hybrid & my partner works from home). 3 meals a day, sometimes with store-bought 3-ingredient bagels, but overall we eat what we cook. Never fast food, because I simply can't have it, and rarely we go out to eat. This means that for 2, 3 week stretches we are eating ONLY the food we buy and cook--organic meats, home-made bread, organic veggies, some of which are home-grown, depending on the season, eggs, bacon, etc. We also don't drink alcohol frequently.

During these stretches, we don't have any problems. We go to bed easily, we wake up rested, we don't feel overwhelmed or irritable regardless of how busy work is or what all we have to do, our digestion works fine, everything functions as one would expect.

Friends & family have come to stay for a week or more, eating only what my partner cooks, & report feeling more rested & rejuvenated than they are when they are home, even the friends who come to visit and work remote the whole time. My cousin reported better digestion, was more at ease, outgoing, and less tense than he is when he is responsible for his own meals (namely, cinnamon rolls, chef boy whatever, fast food).

Lastly, now after years of eating like this, when my partner does get a wild hair & eats fast food, about half the time he ends up feeling lethargic, irritable, easily overwhelmed, sleeps poorly, experiences brain fog, & has digestion upset. I can tell when he's gone out for lunch while I'm at work bc when I get home he will be noticeably on edge, like I am when I eat something with a legume in it.

I don't think the government cares because people who are irritable, quick to anger, exhausted, etc are easier to sell to, easier to rope into arguments which break up coordinated efforts to change policy, people who are sick make money for prescription providers, people with chronic, low-level inflammation buy into diets & routines & etc etc etc.

So so so many people report alleviated health issues when traveling abroad, I experienced the same when I ate out every day, every meal over there & experienced NO issues. My big conspiracy theory is that food in America is toxic, the government knows, & nobody cares bc it makes money.

I leave you with this meme:

[kringelorde]

I wish people talked more about what bipolar will do to you cognitively. yeah, ofc, there’s the obvious impairment to overall function bc you’re oscillating between being off the shits, lethargic and unable to do anything, and feeling you like you need to crawl out of your own body at random intervals that you absolutely cannot plan around. on top of that, though? there’s the neurodegenerative aspect.

even with unipolar major depression, there’s this phenomenon where being severely depressed can mimic mild/early forms of dementia. the memory lapses, the fogginess, the inability to really understand what’s going on around you, not being able to process information. it’s reversible... but the degree depends on how severe it was and how quickly you got on top of it.

there’s a similar kind of cognitive fall off with schizophrenia after the disorder manifests but there’s also a plateau, more or less, bc it isn’t a cycling or episodic disorder (although, obviously, there’ll be ebbs and flows in terms of how intense the symptoms are; there just isn’t the on-off, all or nothing, seesawing pattern). schizophrenics also often exhibit issues with cognitive development/function before first onset.

with bipolar? more or less, you start off with whatever cognitive development/function would be deemed normal for you otherwise. nothing aberrant. and then you get hit with the first episode and oops, there it goes.

there have been observations that suggest that cognitive functioning becomes worse and worse with each episode. that’s manic/hypomanic/mixed and depressed, any time you are not considered euthymic. it’s also been suggested that it may even accelerate over time. a lot of this has been shown in gray matter and brain density.

it pisses me off that there’s little to no research into this. hell, it’s been known about for longer, I think, with schizophrenia and I don’t think there’s too much being done there either. I had two years of extremely severe, rapid cycling, SSRI-agitated bipolar ii episodes at the very least and may have just had two years of low grade depressive episodes (depending on if I continue showing more stable patterns of functioning off zoloft that I did while on it for 6 years).

it is so frustrating to feel myself having difficulties with shit that legitimately wasn’t even a problem until this stupid piece of shit disorder showed up. I feel like I am far more incapable of things like synthesizing research, processing new information quickly, cohesive analysis, right now than I was when I came into college. obviously, not being medicated for ADHD consistently for the last year is also a component of it but I’m not terribly optimistic about this being some sudden 180 when I’m on my brutally high dose of adderall (bc it doesn’t really work for me teehee <3 but I can’t afford to try newer gen meds that don’t have generics <33) consistently day after day.

guh.

and hey, if you didn’t know that bipolar may very well cause neurodegeneration and were either waffling on getting checked for it or actually taking meds, now you know.

[canadianramen]

30. Power Rangers Samurai (Season 18)

Power Rangers Samurai bottoms this list and it's not even close. Right away something about this season feels really off. The acting is just flat and lethargic and the dialogue is terrible. You can tell it's the writing and direction because Jayden shows up in later seasons (we will get to that later on) and he sounds and acts like a normal human being which makes me question what the hell happened. It makes this season extremely painful to get through and that coupled with poor writing and characterization is what pushes it all the way down here. It's so SO hard to watch and was an absolute slog to get through.

The New Saban era is pretty rough overall and is probably the worst in regards to consistency and quality out of the 4 Ranger eras (of which I will get into more detail in later entries).

Antonio is an absolute delight and Power Rangers deserves props for portraying a homoerotic and queer character in a serious light, he's hands down the best character in this season. There's no actual confirmation of his sexual orientation in the show but there doesn't need to be. This seasons demographic is clearly a younger audience, the nuances of sexual identity is a complicated subject matter and it doesn't need to be explored thoroughly in this show in order to have good representation. He's a very flamboyant and at times androgenous character but he's taken seriously, the other characters aren't laughing at him and the rest of the team accepts him because he's a damn good Power Ranger and good person, even though he's "different". And this is all the way back in 2011, 4 whole years before Caitlyn Jenners influence would change society as a whole to be more accepting of the LGBT+ community, I got to give the writers props. Antonio has some of the best character moments in the show "Unexpected Arrival", "Room for One More", "The Blue and Gold", and "Boxed In" come to mind. This is queer representation done relatively well (in spite of the poor writing of this season).

You'll notice throughout the rest of these posts that I am generally not a fan of comic relief side characters that contribute next to nothing to the plot. There's one or two in every season. Sometimes they're genuinely charming, and other times they make me want to put my forehead through a window. Bulk and Spike are the former. They are both equally hilarious and charming and seeing Bulk again is both nostalgic as hell and a nice reminder that this season exists in the same world and continuity as the other seasons.

(It's already timestamped if you're on pc so you can just click play but if you're on mobile the theme starts at 16:59. For some reason if you're on mobile the embedded link doesn't care that I added a start time.)

The suits and overall aesthetic of this season are absolutely fantastic. I think the production teams absolutely nailed it in regards to the overall presentation of the show. It hits with just the right amount of nostalgia. The opening theme is also fantastic and hits nicely with some good nostalgia sprinkled throughout.

Jayden is a perfectly fine red ranger and over the course of the season gets the most development out of the Samurai rangers aside from Antonio. He goes from a closed off arrogant asshole and over time softens and learns to trust his team but never has any standout moments after the first couple of episodes. He's not the gold standard for Red Rangers by any means but he's just fine.

The team as characters overall are forgettable in this season. Each of them aside from Jayden gets maybe one episode if we're lucky of actual development, other than that they are the exact same person from the start up until, and including the end.

Where this seasons gets complicated is the villains. I don't understand why Cole Ev- I mean Deker, isn't the main baddie. He's a far more interesting villain than Master Xandred. The relationship between Deker and Xandred wasn't explored enough in either Samurai or Super Samurai even though it was very compelling. Props to the concept artists who came up with Dekers design. He is hands down one of the best looking villains in the franchise and I want a Death Battle between him and Yoshimitsu from Tekken so badly. But that's the problem, Deker isn't the bad guy. He's in 21 episodes across 2 seasons (12 in Samurai, 9 in Super Samurai). He's got a compelling look, ironically stands out because he has okay acting in a show where all of them feel like they have AI generated actors and lines. Xandred on the other hand is a one dimensional psychopath who just doesn't do anything. Samurai is a season that suffers from having goons be far more interesting than the main villain, given that this is the first season of the Saban Era, and the 18th season overall, it really should have learned from previous mistakes.

In closing, aside from the production quality, Deker, and Antonio, it wasn't hard picking Samurai as the bottom of the list. No team-up, a confusing and one dimensional main villain and a plot that feels like it's never moving forward, all work together to bog this show down. However it's the acting and writing that truly cement it at the bottom because it genuinely makes it unbearable to watch. If those two things were a lot better, Samurai's other mistakes would be a lot more forgivable and you would probably see this season shoot up a few places.

[getfitnessgym]

The clouded side of the exercise centre

Fantasies: I should stay away from carbs to get in shape. On the off chance that I lift loads, I will look "massive". I need to tighten up .

I routinely work out and find powerlifting in the exercise centre very fulfilling; I love to perceive how my body changes shape as various muscle bunches answer my exercises. I've become mindful of a disturbing sensation at the rear of my brain, which makes me more worried about my psychological state when I'm not working out.

I realize that rest is both essential and valuable; it's when muscles modify and develop, forestall wounds, and upholds consistency (since you don't feel as obliged by a constant everyday practice). However, no matter what this information, I find it hard to give myself "personal time" from working out, much over bubbly periods or when I'm not feeling 100 per cent. I'm fortunate to be somebody who doesn't get harmed effectively, be that as it may, I wouldn't say I like the prospect of not having the option to prepare because of a supported physical issue.

Am I the one in particular that feels as such? I don't think so. Thus, I invested energy in exploring the reason for this disturbing sensation to recapture more command over my psychological state.

Here is the splendid side

You're possibly mindful of the advantages of activity — controlling your weight, combatting medical issues and supporting energy levels — yet emotional well-being benefits are frequently disregarded.

I most appreciate "that inclination" when I've completed an extreme exercise and feel depleted and phenomenal. In any case, what's filling that sensation? Indeed, I know that it's not only a response to a "great siphon"; it's the arrival of a class of cerebrum synthetic substances called endocannabinoids, which are otherwise called "relax, be cheerful" synthetic compounds.

In our cerebrums, a few regions direct our reaction to stress and uneasiness, the amygdala and the prefrontal cortex. These regions of the cerebrum are rich in endocannabinoid receptors. When these endocannabinoids arrive at these receptors, two things occur:

We experience a happy state of mind that causes us to feel content and decreases uneasiness.

We experience an expansion in dopamine, a synapse (our body's compound couriers) that assumes a critical part in the cerebrum's "reward framework".

Regarding psychological well-being, these substance responses manifest in more ways than one, including higher fearlessness, more inspiration, amiability, and expanded aversion to satisfaction.

What's more, here's the clouded side

Dopamine is habit-forming.

All the more explicitly, the sensation of remuneration and satisfaction we experience when we practice is habit-forming. The genuine concern is that it's a compounding phenomenon that can prompt more extreme circumstances, for example, dietary problems and body dysmorphia.

I'm not saying you shouldn't work out;

if you are dependent on anything, there are far more terrible things you could be dependent on. However, it's essential to know that practice dependence can begin quietly with an unrestrained craving for actual wellness. For instance:

You sort out a couple of times,

you feel perfect, you begin to eat better, and you feel improved. You figure out a couple of additional times and feel exhausted, so you take a rest day. On your rest day, you feel like you're being lethargic, so you go for light exercise. Etc.

This is how it begins;

I know from individual experience where it closes. In the best case scenario, you don't rest enough and deprioritize well-being in your daily practice, and to say the least, you feel a profound vibe of responsibility when you don't work out and over-examine an excessive number of parts of your life, for example, how you search in the mirror, how others see you and all that you eat.

How do I have any idea about that? This is because that is how I believe; I realize I'm an activity fiend.

It was most horrendously awful when I couldn't exercise I've been in past circumstances when I've been unable to work out. My most expanded period was when I needed to go through two hip arthroscopy tasks to fix an inborn (from birth) issue. I was on support or restoring on and off for the most fantastic aspect of two years — it was extreme.

During that time, I encountered what I could portray as melancholy, which was even more recognizable since I'm mostly hopeful. I encountered a large number of the signs that somebody going through melancholy would introduce, which include:

Mental side effects:

A steady low state of mind or trouble

Feeling sad and powerless

Low confidence

Tension

Hesitation and indifference

Being touchy or intolerant of others

Actual side effects: Changes in craving or weight, muscle exhaustion and touchiness, low energy, low charisma and upset rest.

Social side effects:

Low efficiency Participating in less-friendly exercises Disregarding leisure activities and interests and being hermitic

While it's enabling me to comprehend this, looking back, my anxiety is that I would feel similarly assuming I wound up experiencing the same thing now. Of considerably more concern is that I experience a portion of these sentiments (but gently) presently, in any event, when I take a solitary rest day — and I know I'm in good company.

Having addressed individuals similarly as excited about wellness, I know that many stress over not having the option to practice out of the blue and feel like a rest day rises to a terrible day (as opposed to one that is equitably great for your brain and body). What can be done Assuming that you understand this and (like me) a lot of it reverberates with how you feel, then, at that point, the most exciting thing we can furnish ourselves with is mindfulness. Familiarity with ourselves, the consciousness of our necessities and attention to everything others notice and say to us. That is the general purpose of this post; it's to make you and myself more mindful of what we're putting ourselves through and, afterwards, get it sufficiently early to take care of business.

In the soul of mindfulness, I need to cause you to notice a great article I found on Healthline that will assist you with distinguishing whether your activity propensities are coming from an unfortunate spot. What number of these signs do you relate to? (I'll put a next to the ones I connect with).

You work out to compensate for dinners or body parts you could do without

You're consistently at the rec centre.

You feel tired more often than not.

Your change intends to oblige your exercise plan.

Your sentiments about practice incorporate words like required, responsibility, nervousness, and unbending.

Your outcomes are lessening.

You have a negative self-perception

Supportively, the article likewise prescribes a few activities to handle practice fixation:

Keep a work diary to assist you with distinguishing sentiments and examples associated with working out.

Look for professional assistance. Indeed, this can be treated (which I'm a colossal promoter of). Yet, it could likewise be a wellness expert or fitness coach who could assist you with rearing better exercise propensities.

I will check the work diary out, particularly on days I compel myself to take a very much-procured rest — wish me karma!

[sjhanny2000]

The Danger of Flamboyant Love (Part 4)

A/N: Hey everyone! Part 4 is here just in the nick of time! Sorry it's taken so long to get this up; between finals and moving back home for break, it's been extremely hard to write. It doesn't help that this part was probably the darkest thing I've written in a very long time. Anywho, I hope you all enjoy TDoFL Part 4 and thanks for all the follows, hearts, comments, and more! Love you guys!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Warning(s): Low self-esteem, mind manipulation, mentioned child neglect, angst, slight violence, neglect, emotional constipation, non-canon, sexual assualt, rape/non-con, minor character death mentioned

18+, minors DO NOT READ!

~~~

“Y/N.”

Cold, so cold.

“Y/N, wake up!”

Everything is so cold. So tired.

“You need to wake up!”

Too tired, too cold. Sleep.

“Y/N!”

As if someone doused your person with molten hot lava at the shout of your name, you awoke with a start, the chills coursing through your body ebbing away in a flash of relief. Your vision was blurred as you looked about, disoriented and unsure of where you were. The feeling of someone watching you began to dig under your skin as you lethargically blinked away the exhaustion still present in your eyes, something restricting your hands from doing so. Suddenly, you could see you were in a stone walled room, varying crates and metal vats scattered throughout, the stench of brewing alcohol and something peculiar attacking your nostrils mercilessly. Looking about with a clearer mind, you quickly noticed there was a tugging to your shoulders, your ligaments seeming to be aching from extended use as if you had been carrying baskets of heavy items around the estate recently. You took notice as your consciousness solidified that you had a pounding headache, the throb feeling as someone was repeatedly smashing a hammer into your already sensitive cranium.

Your body cried out in agony at your attempts to move, muscles in your torso screaming bloody murder especially. Still, you pressed yourself to gaze upwards, to see why your arms appeared to be restricted by some kind of force, and the moment your (e/c) eyes made took in the sight of your limbs not only being bound in rope but suspending from the ceiling by a menacing hook, you knew something was terribly wrong. Panic flooded your chilled veins, desperation following swiftly as you wriggled in your restraints, and with a muffled cry, you came to discover your mouth properly gagged.

Where am I?! What’s going on?!

“Are you awake my darling?”

Attention snapping away from your fruitless struggle, you found yourself looking at the gruesome visage of a demon, the once human materializing just a few feet from your position. Recognition slammed into your mind like a sledgehammer, memories flooding your conscious with thick tears of terror brimming your eyes.

Giving your cruel, mischievous grin, the demon, or Tatsuya you didn’t know anymore, slunk forward with intent. “I was beginning to worry that I struck you far too hard, my sweet. Dead human meat is never fun to play with.”

“And what a joy you have been to play with! I must say, those dear spouses of yours must have been quite pleased to call you their lover. Such a beautiful form, so juicy and flavorful.” It reached out a talon claw and much to your utter distaste, came to stroke your face with a faked fondness, teeth sharp and bloody as it licked its cracked lips.

The talon trailed down your throat, a hot pain flashing across your skin at the claw digging into the flesh and you couldn’t hold back the scream that demanded to be freed at the action. Something wet and sticky followed the appendage, the scent of copper temporarily overwhelming your senses as tears sped down your gagged face, cheeks aching at the strain.

“Oh, what a delicious sight, my darling. All tied up and at my mercy. To see your blood run just sends shivers down my spine!”

Before you could even react, the demon leaned inwards and ran its tongue up the expanse of your neck, the slime of its saliva licking away the blood seeping from the cut they made into your skin. You did your best to pull away, to make them stop, but it proved fruitless. Your body was in no state to fight, far too weak from blood loss and lack of food.

How long have I been here?

They pulled away with the smacking of their lips, your blood smeared across their face and teeth. “Sweet as dango, just as I expected! I haven’t had a treat like you in so long, especially with that pesky husband of yours keeping me on my toes lately!”

The mention of Tengen had you snapping to attention, the demon chuckling at your response. “Oh dear, don’t get too hopeful there! Your lovely spouses haven’t the slightest idea that I have you at my mercy. No, you’re going to be the card up my sleeve if they do stumble upon my humble lair, my little secret weapon!”

“Until they do though, I’m going to make sure I taste every shred of your gorgeous body.” Desperate whimpers escaped through your gag as you felt their claws come to fondle your breasts through the fabric of your dirtied kimono, strands of hair further falling free from its hold atop your head. “Oh listen to those precious little noises you make! I have to say, your friend was just as vocal as you are my pet!”

Tatsuya-!

As if it could read your thoughts, the demon let out a menacing chuckle. “Such a handsome man, chiseled and outspoken. He was such a delicious tall drink of water. A shame I let my gluttony takeover.”

Fresh tears spilled down your cheeks, knowing that your friend was dead, murdered at the hands of this demonic monster. His family would never have closure, forever to be left wondering of their son’s last moments in this world. You prayed his death had been quick and painless.

“Enough sentiments. Let’s take a look at what you’re hiding beneath this kimono of yours, shall we?”

Screams of protest ripped their way out of your chest as knife sharp talons cut down the front of your clothing, slicing away the fabric like a boat sailing through calm waters, a gust of frosty air assaulting your rapidly chilling body.

You were left to hang in the remnants of your shredded kimono, body exposed to the world around with only your undergarments maintaining the only remaining shreds of your soiled dignity.

“Oh! Such untainted skin! What perfection!” The demon leaned inward, cold talons running down the expanse of your exposed stomach, sending shivers down your spine.

“I wonder, have these pesky lovers of yours worshiped your body like it should be?” Their slimy tongue traveled down the goosebump covered skin of your lower torso, leaving behind a trail of acidic moisture that seemed to burn into your flesh like a lit match. “I’ve seen how they’ve neglected you, choosing to kill my brethren over loving a beauty such as you. What a damn shame. Do you think they’ll take note of your absence before it’s too late?”

Guilt and uncertainty engulfed your body, mind at war with your heart. Did they know you were missing? If you were gone, Nao or someone must have sent word to them! Yet, they often were unreachable while on the hunt for demons, making any attempts your servants made useless. They weren’t going to find you in time. Tengen, Makio, Suma, Hinatsuru, so busy in ensuring the world was a safer place, wouldn’t be able to save you in your moment of need. The thought made your stomach curdle, jealousy and anger gnawing at the depths of your soul.

Laughing at your expense, the demon’s claws drifted down to the curve of your unclothed hips, talons digging into the dimples of your back without a care in the world. “I’ve seen your memories my dear, I’ve feasted on your sadness and loneliness. They will always place you second to the mission set before them! To think you are more than a lowly concubine is laughable!”

You could feel streams of fresh, warm blood trickling down the pain of your lower back and thighs, sobs thrashing madly against the gag in your mouth, begging to be freed and heard by someone who would save you. The demon’s words were as sharp and calculating, striking every internal weakness and insecurity dwelling in your already fading person, clearly taking joy in tormenting you so. Yet, you knew there was some truth to their words. Kami, how much you hated that to be true. All you were was a play thing to your loves, something to pick up when bored. Did they ever truly love you?

“Yes, my darling. Let me break free from their hold. You will be my one and only priority. You and me against the world, feasting on tasty humans to our heart’s content!” Vomit green irises burned into your battered skin, grin growing more manic and greedy with every second as they leaned inward, canines growing in length.

To be someone’s first priority? You would no longer be left waiting, wondering if your spouses were going to return to you, that you were enough for them. They could leave free of the burden that had been placed on their shoulders nearly three years ago and you would be with someone that wanted you from the start. It felt so right to be this demon you were so afraid, why? This was not Tatsuya, this thing ate people! Yet, your body was leaning into their touch, your mind growing foggy and limbs going limped as the demon’s hold on your hips loosened , slipping further downwards to the band of your underwear. The demon made quick work with it, slicing the garment away with ease, and somewhere deep within yourself, past the steadily growing fog swallowing your resolve, a small voice let out a scream of terrified defiance. Gravel like lips suckled hungrily onto your neckline, canines dragging playfully in warning against the tender and bloodied flesh, and all you could do was hang there, mind cloud and body unresponsive.

“-Y/N.”

A weak, faint whisper echoed from deep within the recesses of your muddled thoughts, so familiar yet so far. You sleepily closed your eyes in exhaustion, the feeling of the demon’s touch hardly present nor garnering your attention.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding.”

Tiredly, you forced your eyes open once again and much to your surprise, the dank stone room had been replaced with one of your most favorite places, the mid-afternoon sunlight lighting the small garden of your childhood beautifully.

“Did you have a refreshing nap, my sweet flower?”

At the sound of the honey sweet voice, tears immediately clouded your vision, body trembling as pools of (e/c) made contact with the exact replicas resting within your skull.

A well kept bun sat atop their head just as you remembered, obsidian locks gently softly in the sunlight as they clashed majestically with the porcelain of their skin, elegantly framing their feminine features. They wore a kimono pattern that you knew could only belong to one person, yet it had been over a decade since you last saw it worn in person. Lips trembling in awe and hesitation, you took in the individual sitting before you with hopeful calculation.

“Mama?”

The playful grin sitting upon her rose painted lips grew in fondness, (e/c) irises softening with motherly love. “Hello, my darling. It’s been a minute, hasn’t it?”

“H-how are you here?” A wave of anxiety washed over you, realization slamming brutally against your muddled thoughts. “A-am I dead?!”

“No, at least not quite yet. This demon seems to be interested in prolonging your suffering, being the cruel creature it is.” Righteous anger bloomed across your mother’s beautiful face, irritated with the reality at hand.

Her attention focused upon you, anger falling away with a small spark of tender love in her pools of (e/c). “My, look how you’ve grown. What a beautiful and strong woman you have become.”

Tears of varying emotions began to fall down your cheeks at her sweet voice, the one you had longed to hear again from the moment it ceased to exist fourteen years ago, and all you could in that moment was launch yourself at your mother with a sob.

“MAMA!”

“OH!” The woman let out a gasp of surprise at your movement, thin arms coming to wrap around your small person just like she always did in your memories. “Shush, it’s alright, little one. There’s no need for such tears.”

“Why did you have to go, mama? Why?!” You sobbed, chest heaving erratically at the sea of emotions growing within you.

Being so young at the time of her passing, you had never found closure in her death. None of your siblings had, partially due to how your father merely wiped away any remaining evidence of her existence from the house, stating there was no need to dwell on the dead. Anything that once belonged to your mother was gone and all eight of you were left grasping threads of the woman that gave you the little nurture you received as children. Mother with her sweet touches and soft smiles, her nimble fingers tending to wounds and tender lips leaving red kisses of love. Takibi and Tsuna, the eldest siblings out of your siblings by eight years, had been twelve when mother died, with Honoka just having turned nine, and the three did their darndest to keep the memory of your mother alive. Bedtime stories and conversations about the mother were had, with the others occasionally chiming in details they seemed to have forgotten over time. It grew harder to remember your mother as you all grew older and father began to separate the eight of you, thrusting everyone in varying directions with different life plans in mind. Soon, all you could remember was faint passages of her, how she would sing when you or one of your siblings were sad, her honey sweet voice. So much else was gone, never to be recovered from the hungry jaws of mortality.

You slowly came to a calm, eyes burning and chest aching, and your mother simply rubbed your back and waited for you to process the volley of pain and grief assaulting your senses.

Finally, as you quietly sniffled against her, mother spoke with pain of her own. “I promise Y/N, if I had been given the choice, I never would have left any of you. Kami, how awful it was, to know I was abandoning my young children to the care of such a callous and unloving man. I prayed to the Kami, for them to spare me or simply give me more time, to ensure all of you would be well taken care of, but the illness struck without mercy. I was forced to watch my children cry for me as I lay helpless in my sickbed, barely able to keep my eyes open. I wanted to see my children grow into the wonderful adults I know they could be, to be surrounded by a sea of grandchildren that I could call my own. Yet, with all my prayers and wishes, I died and left you all behind. What kind of mother leaves her children so young and helpless?”

What a lie you would be spewing if you didn’t acknowledge that you had similar thoughts, desperate to know why the Kami had forced your mother to leave you so young. So many nights were spent dreaming of a life where your mother hadn’t passed, that she fought your father to keep all of you together, to stop the man from treating you as pawns and more like the scared children you were. The monster had pushed Takibi into service at twelve years old and Tsuna into a loveless marriage soon after. Honoka was married to a lord twice her age of fourteen and had been raped repeatedly in their nearly decade long marriage, surrounded by forced children and poorly hidden depression. Chikao and Chimon were placed into apprenticeships under prestigious businessmen and bureaucrats in far away Tokyo and had yet to be seen again, their letters always being few and far between and drenched with tears and homesickness for years. Your twin brother, Nozomi, was a rare sight, the reluctant shadow of their uncaring father, being groomed to be the perfect heir the man always had been in search for. Then you were cast away, having been seen as a burden and an expense your father had no interest paying, and you had created a stable life for yourself, with loving spouses who treated you as more than a bargaining chip. In the end, no fault could be found in anyone but your father, your mother and all her children, truly innocent and undeserving of what the Kami had dished them.

“Y-you never wanted to leave us with that monster. Anyone can see that clear as day.” Mother looked at you with surprise, painted agape and formed an ‘O’ mid rebuttal. “The woman I remember was too kind and protective of her children to do something so callous.”

Comfortable silence filled the space between the two of you, with you greedily drinking in her comforting presence.

After an unknown amount of time passed, your mother pulled away, sadness in her usually cheerful irises as she tenderly brushed a few stray locks of hair from your eyes. “I wish we had more time to catch up with one another, but I am afraid there are more pressing matters at hand.”

It was in that moment that your mind chose to remind you of why you were able to be with your mother, the horrible face of the demon flashing cruelly across your mind.

Tears immediately formed at the corner of your eyes, salty drops threatening to fall as reality and all its discourse crashed into you without a second thought.

“The demon.” Words no louder than a whisper, you gaze blankly at the flowing grass surrounding your sandaled feet. “It ate Tatsuya-kun, mama. It plans on eating me too.”

“Only if you allow yourself to be so, yes.”

Your attention snapped to the sound of your mother’s words littered with desperate determination, locks of hair falling into your line of vision. “Mama…”

“This demon, he came to devour Tatsuya-kun upon obtaining you. It uses one's body as a puppet, allowing the demon to walk under the sun’s without consequence as they remain in the shadows. A coward at it’s finest.” A scowl of disgust formed on her full lips, eyes fiery with indignation.

One of her hands took hold of yours and gave it a gentle squeeze, garnering your attention with a gasp of surprise.

She paid your reaction no mind, stern in both her speech and body language. “Listen closely, child, for you will only have one chance to do this right.”

“When you awake, you will be in a state of indecency. You will want to scream, to struggle, but you must withhold these feelings and think as logically as possible.” Mother did not remove her gaze from your personage, (e/c) orbs hard and unforgiving as she spoke. “Your main objective is to survive and to do so, you must break free from the restraints and his blood demon art.”

“B-blood demon art?”

You had heard of such a thing in a passing conversation between your husband, Rengoku-sama and Shinazugawa-sama, the three having just returned from a quite extensive mission against a cult of demons to the South.

“I must say, the blood demon art that the earth demon possessed was quite intriguing!” Rengoku-sama shouted from his position between Shinazugawa-sama and Tengen, your husband grinning at his antics. “To be able to manipulate minerals in such a way was a spectacle to see!”

Tengen laughed, clutching onto the cup of sake in his large hand. “Not nearly as flamboyant as your move against that one demon filth! Such a show of awe and flash! It had my blood pumping out of its sheer amazement!”

“Both of you are loud mouth idiots.” Shinazugawa-sama grumbled behind his own cup of sake, fond irritance on his scarred face.

Blood demon art, a fighting technique or ability that demons of higher levels of power possess.

Mother nodded at your answer, her grip on your hand tightening. “Yes, all demons at this level of power possess such abilities. He is able to manipulate one’s mind to do as he pleases; it was how he was able to convince you to return with him, though you knew it would be safer to return to your home.”

Fresh tears began to brim in your eyes at the mention of your home, horror spilling forth from the depths of your subconscious at releasing the possible reality set before you. Your spouses’ faces flashed across your vision, sweet and bitter memories intermixing perfectly in your mind.

“Y/N.”

Gazing upwards, you found yourself looking into the face of your husband, Tengen’s fuchsia colored irises warm and all encompassing with his calloused hand coming to tenderly cup your cheek. “Always remember, that no matter what, we will always be here to protect you. You did not choose this fight, nor to marry any one of us, yet you serve and love us as if it had been your will all along. Your love is something that can never be replaced or bought, and it is a treasure Makio, Hinatsuru, and Makio will protect until our final breaths.”

Body trembling and eyes wide, you struggled to find any words as your face lit up in shyness. “Husband, I-!”

Rugged lips halted you in your place, capturing your unblemished ones in a hot and passionate kiss of promise and love. You couldn’t stop yourself from melting into his strong and unrelenting touch, leaning into the kiss with passion of your own as tears came to your eyes.

After a few blessed moments of intimate bliss, the man you know called husband pulled away just enough for the tips of your noses to be touching. “I love you, Y/N. Promise me, if you ever find yourself in a drab situation, you will fight with every shred of your exuberant self to come home to us, to me.”

A few rogue tears cascaded wetly down your cheeks, voice quiet but firm. “I promise.”

“That’s the fiery spirit I know!” He gave you one of his blinding smiles and pulled away with an outstretched hand, standing at his full height of 6’6”. “Come now, the others are waiting on us in the bedroom.”

Blush once again heated your cheeks as you nervously placed your tiny hand in his giant one, his appendage swallowing yours with the curl of his fingers and leading you away to your waiting wives. All the while a shy grin of fondness sat upon your lips.

Fingers intertwined with the fabric of your kimono, you gritted your teeth at the ache of pain and longing rousting around in your chest as you slammed your eyes shut in red hot shame. “Tengen, Hinatsuru, Suma, Makio, I’m so sorry! How could I ever doubt how much you love me?!”

The touch of fingers gracing your cheek had you opening your eyes, only to see the glowing persons of your husband and wives gazing down at your kneeling position with varying grins of excitement and playfulness. Your mother was nowhere to be seen and neither was the garden of your childhood, having been replaced with the front gates of the estate. Of your home you shared with them.

Makio, with her arms crossed over her chest, gave you a devilish smirk. “Well Y/N, you said you always wanted to know what it’s like to bring down a demon. You ready to show that bastard what you’re made of?!”

“We believe in you Y/N!” Suma cheered behind her, tears in her gorgeous pools of sapphire. “You can do this!”

“We’ll be with you every step of the way. Stay strong, Y/N, and don’t let your guard down no matter what.” Hinatsuru cautioned from her place to the right of Tengen’s hulking form, concern shining darkly in the depths of her violet eyes.

Tengen came to crouch before you with a genuine smile, beads twinkling around his painted face. “Remember your promise, little flower. Fight with all the gracious flamboyance of your beloved Sound Hashira, alright?”

Behind him, all your wives sighed in defeat, Makio’s face hollow of all emotion but disappointment. “Talk about an ego.”

The Sound Hashira spun around on your wives with blinding speed, letting out a shout of indignation. “I am the god of festivals! How dare you insult me!”

Hinatsuru ignored your dramatic husband, a small smile forming on her beautiful face. “We love you, Y/N.”

A wave of darkness began to overcome the landscape, slowly stealing away your spouses as a cry escaped your lips. “Wait! Don’t go, PLEASE!”

Looking back at you one last time, Tengen gave you a jingling thumbs up of encouragement. “Show that ugly demon you’re the proud wife of Demon Slayers, little spirit! Fight like a great symphony!”

With that, they were swept away and you were left to stand within a sea of darkness, skin crawling with goosebumps and uncertainty eating away at your already faint resolve.

Could you do this? Fight a demon that is? You’re not kunoichi nor Demon Slayer, just a simple housewife! What could you do against a demon as powerful as the one holding your captive?!

“We love you, Y/N.”

Your hands curled into fists at Hinatsuru’s words, heart hardening and tears ceasing to fall. You stood to your feet and bit your lip, steeling yourself for the dire situation ahead of you, and let out a sigh of calm.

With a jerk of your head, you sent your gaze forward, body firm and at the ready, releasing a shout of rage as you pulled your right fist backwards. “You’re a lying bastard!”

Swinging your fist forward, you snarled at the darkness surrounding you and slammed your flesh and bone against the entity. “THEY LOVE ME!”

At the spot where your fist met darkness, small cracks began to appear, spreading outwards as they grew in size and severity until finally, it shattered into a million pieces and a blinding light assaulted your eyes.

Blinking slowly, you groggily came to and found yourself being eye to eye with your captor, horrified shock in those ugly eyes of theirs. “No! How is this possible?! I had you under my spell-!”

You took note of the lack of binding holding you down and nearly froze at seeing a clawed appendage within you, inwardly screaming at the awful sight. Wounds and scraps of all kinds now littered your body, canine punctures where the demon fed slowly oozing blood.

Mother’s voice echoed faintly in the back of your mind at that moment.

“You will want to scream, to struggle, but you must withhold these feelings and think as logically as possible.”

Tears of rage in your eyes, you released a cry as you swung your now unbound fist forward, mercilessly striking the demon across the face. It let out a cry of pain at the hit, stumbling backwards at the force you put into your punch as its claw slipped out of your body, and you didn’t waste a second, struggling to your feet with your heart pounding erratically within you. You swiftly grabbed hold of a nearby pile of crates and pushed with all your might, causing the stack of wood and supplies to fall onto the demon with a desperate cry. The demon cried out once more out of surprise and you took it as your sign to leave, hugging your bleeding side as you hurriedly limped out of the stone walled room, panting heavily from exertion and blood loss. Exiting through the lone doorway on the other side of the room, you found yourself in a large warehouse, more stacks of crates and metal vats decorating the large space much to your frustration. You pushed yourself past the frustration and exhaustion blooming within your body and limped on, hoping to find a door leading out of this cursed place as soon as possible.

“Come here, little beauty! I wasn’t done feasting on your gorgeous body yet!”

Panic froze your veins as you pressed your aching person against a tall mound of crates, doing your best to quiet yourself by covering your mouth with your hand.

You needed to get out of there and you needed to do so now.

Shaking off the terror filling your extremities, you pushed forward and hobbled on, determination bleeding heavily from your racing heart. Tengen, Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru were counting on you; you couldn't give up now!

After a few more turns, you found your target and nearly let out a cry of relief. Ten feet away stood a door, the main street of the village in sight, and for a moment you believed you had gotten away, that you were free.

“Ah, here you are!”

Your body froze at the gravelly voice sounding off no more than a foot behind you, hot breath tickling the shell of your right ear. “Thought you could escape, eh my darling?”

A clawed hand wrapped around your throat, extracting a choke of fear from your lips as you struggled against the demon’s hold, crying out with every bit of your strength. “Help! Me!”

“Shush my sweet, enough of the theatrics!” Their tongue licked against the torn flesh of your left cheek, slimy and stinking of decomposition. “Now, where were we?”

Shame overwhelmed your senses at the demon’s words, tears racing down your bloodied face without abandon.

Tengen, I’m so sorry. I broke my promise.

Succumbing to the demon’s ministrations, you allowed the exhaustion you were experiencing to wash over you, numbing your senses and emotions. You didn’t want to die feeling anything, the demon didn’t deserve the satisfaction of hearing your pain.

“GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU BASTARD!”

As suddenly as the demon appeared, he vanished, his hold on you disappearing and your legs gave way at the sudden need to support your body, gravity sending you falling towards the stone floor below. Behind you, a loud crash echoed throughout the warehouse but you didn’t have the energy to see what caused such a sound, too tired to do anything but fall.

“Y/N!”

Just before you could hit the floor, a pair of warm and familiar arms caught you, abruptly halting your descent with a cry.

“Stay with me, Y/N! Please!”

Struggling to open your eyes, you blearily gazed at your savior through the slits of your eyelids, vision blurry and unfocused. Within a few moments, the fog began to dissipate and your heart skipped at seeing the face of your wife staring down at you with worried violet eyes.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Hinatsuru, tears trickling from the corners of your eyes. “Hina-tsuru, you, came.”

“Save your strength, Y/N.” Hinatsuru ordered sternly, shifting her hold on you with care, your breaths becoming heavier with exertion.

“Spirit flower.”

A large shadow came over you and your wife as you laid in her arms, and you couldn’t hold back the sobs in your throat at seeing the frowning visage of your husband, concern present in those fuchsia irises of his.

“Tengen, I’m so sorry-!” You found yourself silenced by a large finger pressing against your battered lips, Tengen gazing at you with a stern look.

“Enough of that now. Apologizing when it's not needed isn’t very flamboyant for a wife of the Sound Hashira.” His voice was calming, rumbling within his massive chest, and the hashira turned his attention to a tense Hinatsuru. “Get her as far as possible from here. I’m going to slaughter that hideous creature.”

“Yes Lord Tengen!”

He looked back to you with a frown, wiping away the tears from your eyes. “You’re not allowed to die, Sound Hashira’s orders. Alright?”

You couldn’t manage to find the strength to nod so you did your best to reply, body aching as Hinatsuru stood with you in her arms bridal style. “Ye-es, husband.”

“Good. Now go.”

Hinatsuru quickly did as she was told and sprinted out the warehouse door with you in tow. Your vision began to fade as the two of you hurried down the village streets, body numb and mind growing foggier by the moment. “Hina’, so tired.”

“You have to stay awake, Y/N. You promised our husband, remember?!”

Tengen looked back to you with a frown, wiping away the tears from your eyes. “You’re not allowed to die, Sound Hashira’s orders. Alright?”

Tearfully, you felt your consciousness slip through your fingers. “Sorry…”

“Y/N?! Y/N!”

With her shout of horror, you fell away from the world of the living.

~~~

Part 5 is in the making.

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[imachildprodigy]

Headache | Remus Lupin

summary: Trying to complete an essay under the little time span of forty-eight hours was not easy. In an attempt to complete the horrid task, a pounding headache threatens you. Your loving boyfriend however, finds a way to calm you.

a/n: I feel as if I’ve been gone for an extremely long time. I’m sorry! I’ve just had no motivation to write really and I was suffering from Writer’s block and couldn’t conjure up any ideas. I apologise for the shortness of it, and sorry if the quality isn’t as great! It’s currently 11pm at night and I just finished editing this; although I probably made a few typo’s or errors. Enjoy! <33

It was a grand autumn evening. The wind howled and whistled as it gently breezed by the golden leaves of the branchy trees, and the sun rested assuringly amongst the mere clouds. You sat glumly on your bed; your eyes boring into the sheet of gold parchment that lay before you.

An a thousand word page essay was to be written just under the little time span of forty-eight hours, and the horrid pent up feeling of stress ran right through you. Your head ached terribly; as so did every muscle and part of your body.

Your quill tapped against the parchment, awaiting for ideas and thoughts to cloud your mind. It was no use of course; your headache beginning to ripple with such severity that your eyes squeezed shut.

Long-written essays like these were difficult; especially when teachers gave very little time on them. Of course, you came by a headache here and there; but never, had you experienced a headache this dreadful.

You hastily picked up your parchment and paraphernalia and placed them untidily on your desk; before sighing loudly and climbing into the chambers of your bed.

You threw your heavy bedsheets on you; lying in a pathetic slumped heap. Head pounding, muscles aching, and anxiety rippling through you all at once.

By now, the sun had began to set. Dreadfully noisy chatter filled the dorm corridors as students began to perambulate down to dinner. Groaning in annoyance, you dug your fingernails into your temples.

All you wanted to do was disintegrate into the bed; completely isolate yourself from the outside world. It felt as if a quaffle was smashing into your skull with such strong force; your eyes snapped shut, before you quietly sobbed into your pillow.

Why wouldn’t this cursed headache leave you alone? You hadn’t even noticed the door creak open, as you jumped at the gentle contact of a hand resting on your shoulder. “Love?”

The reassuring voice of Remus calmed you down, as your heart slowed it’s pace, and your thoughts were at peace. You let out a lewd hiccup , before turning your body and hugging the boy tightly.

The boy wasted no time to allow his calloused hands to rest on your back; rubbing it soothingly. Your sobs and hiccups diminishing as you felt a surge of relief course through you.

“What’s wrong, talk to me,” Remus asked, after a while of him holding you in his embrace. You turned your head upwards; a slight pound in your skull as a result. “My head hurts,” your words came out slurred, as you were quite tired and lethargic.

Remus pressed a loving kiss to your forehead. “Why don’t we get some medicine, hmm?” You nodded sleepily, before the boy slipped out of the room. God were you lucky to have a boyfriend like Remus.

[fatefulfaerie]

A Century Apart Part 1/2

Kakariko without the stench of blood in the air was frankly sickening to Zelda’s lungs. 

She had trouble breathing in the air that took so long to clear, that had forgotten the war of a century prior, that was normal to an entire country of people that had become accustomed to a post-apocalyptic Hyrule. 

When she had first arrived here, Link draped as best as she could manage over his horse, she was frankly overwhelmed with nausea, some of it due to her worry at Link collapsing moments after an unanswered question, some of it due to the blood caked on his tunic, and some of it due to her terrible, terrible, stomach twisting guilt for making it here alive. 

It was night now, and the twelve hours that Link spent recuperating in his slumber had felt to Zelda like an entire week. She tossed around a circular slice of orange carrot as she sat with worry twinging her heart. Normally sitting on the floor to eat as the Sheikah were accustomed to would have made her back hurt, but she paid little mind to her back.

Impa cleared her throat, and so Zelda looked up and across the table. The noise was so familiar that she almost expected to see the Impa she knew, in her twenties and incredibly agile.

Yet this Impa had eyes that had aged, eyes that had faded from a red as bright as cranberries to a hazel, a common side effect of Sheikah aging.

“You’ve hardly touched your food,” Impa said, wrinkles and all, her face more spotted and much more round nowadays. “I know the carrots aren’t your absolute favorite but you always used to love when I made Seafood Rice Balls.”

Zelda nodded, and faked a small smile, although it came off as a simple pursing of her lips.

“Yeah, I…I remember,” she muttered quietly as she tore away her glance, looking back down at her plate. The scientist within her knew that she was, in fact, hungry and needed food to sustain herself, yet the princess with her wasn’t quite ready for such indulgence, for such luxury. 

She began with a carrot.

It was soft, obviously well-cooked as her teeth bit upon food for the first time in a hundred years. It was buttered and salted and spiced with something she didn’t recognize, something they wouldn’t have typically served at the castle.

She almost forgot how to swallow as the chewed-up orange mush threatened to trail down her throat, but she gulped the single slice of carrot down nonetheless. 

It felt strange, eating, and it felt strange that it felt strange.

She could tell Impa was watching her eat, especially as she dove the chopsticks into the Rice Balls that, over a hundred years, she forgot she missed.

“When was the last time Link was in Kakariko?” Zelda asked, reacquainting herself with the texture and taste of the white rice, the seasoned fish on top of it, the leafy seaweed around it. She didn’t dare to meet Impa’s glance.

“About a week ago,” Impa said. “He came to restock, as he does occasionally. It wasn’t a long visit, though. I suppose he had places to be.”

Zelda nodded, using the cloth napkin on her lap to wipe away any stray particles of food from her mouth. It was almost an instinct, the way she was trained to always be proper, the way her back was straight were she sat, the way she refused to let herself be and just put her elbows on the table. Paya obviously had no problem with it when she ate earlier. Zelda envied her casual manner, living decades upon decades away from a kingdom.

Zelda didn’t expect Impa to reach out and grab her hand, and thus she almost ripped her hand away she was so unaccustomed to it. Zelda looked up.

“He is going to be okay,” Impa insisted slowly and calmly with eyes aged with wisdom. Zelda had no choicest to truly trust them. “He pushed himself very hard to save Hyrule and to bring you back. I would wager he hasn’t slept in days…and the injuries he ignored, well, it’s about time they caught up to him.”

“S-sorry to interrupt,” Paya stammered. Zelda didn’t even hear her come back down the stairs. “It…it’s Link.”

“What’s wrong?” Zelda asked standing up completely panicked. “Is he okay?”

“Oh gosh I shouldn’t have phrased it like that,” Paya said. “He’s fine, he’s just stirring. You said you wanted to be there when he woke up?”

“Yes,” Zelda said, nodding, her hand lightly fisted at her chest. “Y-yes, of course. Please lead the way.”

He didn’t look any different when Zelda finished the last steps of the stairs, Link coming into view. His face was still terribly scratched up and bruised. The only difference now was that Paya had-and she would have to ask later how a Sheikah could be so stealthy as to wrap a person’s chest without waking them up-dressed Link in bandages to brace his broken ribs. There was a fair amount of blood on the bed from the gash on his leg, but it seemed to be well-sewn up now, the wound cleaned and covered with a fresh bandage. There was also a half-empty bottle of a familiar dark purple elixir, a common painkiller among Hylians. Zelda used to use it for headaches.

She could she the way his blue eyes had begun to shine through eyelids. The room was dark, lighted only with candles that smelled of lavender and honey. It seemed so long ago that they had brought Link in, Zelda suggesting they keep the main lanterns in the room doused so that Link could perhaps sleep sounder.

“Link?” She asked as she stepped forward, the combination of her lack of stealth and her thin brown sandals making the wooden floor creak.

She knelt at his bedside and repeated her query.

“Link,” she said. It was now a whisper, like she was pretending to be the lover she never was to him.

The fatigued hero hummed as he blinked open his eyes lethargically.

“Zelda,” he said, softly in his half-awake state with a small smile. The former princess assumed it was because he knew of her presence before his head rolled over to her and he flipped out with wide eyes. It was as if someone had put smelling salt underneath his nose, the way he bolted upright.

“P-princess! I…” Zelda watched with equal parts awe and glee as he ignored the extremely likely pain in his ribs to fix his messy bedhead. Not to say he was in any way successful. “I’m sorry, I…”

“Link,” Zelda said, in such a soothing way that Link froze immediately. It may have also been because she placed a hand on his cheek. Zelda gently guided him back down to lay on the pillow.

“You look fine,” she assured him. “And you are in no condition to do anything but rest.”

Link’s icy blue eyes pleaded for something Zelda couldn’t place. They looked at her, studied her in a way Zelda wasn’t used to.

“Princess, I…” he began, but his words faltered, as if his intended sentence just walked off a cliff, accidentally ran out of room on the ledge and was now falling and forgotten. “I would like to call you Zelda,” he finally said. “Is that all right?”

Zelda nodded, and had to keep from tearing up.

“Yes,” she said, water making her green eyes shine like emeralds. “I would actually prefer that.”

It looked as if Link had something else to say, and yet he hesitated with a hitched breath. Zelda hesitated too, not what to say, but whether or not it was fair to reveal that she could read him like a book. It was a byproduct of their time together a hundred years ago, a time he may not have any recollection of at all, a time he may even be scared of. It was for those reasons that she demonstrated her patience instead, taking his hand and fooling herself that she was conveying her care with her eyes.

“I remember you, by the way,” Link said.

Zelda shifted slightly. There were so many memories between them and so many things that could be assumed between the memories that she couldn’t help but fear what story he had construed.

“I remember you not liking me,” Link continued, Zelda sighing, opening and closing her eyes with a slight cringe. Of all the things for him to remember. 

But he didn’t stop there.

“I remember you warming up to me and us becoming friends…at least I think.”

Zelda had looked down at her hand, the way her thumb ran up and down his palm.

“Do you remember anything else?” Zelda asked, tilting up her head. Link seemed genuinely out of answers and that’s what broke her heart the most.

“Is there something I should remember?” Link asked. Zelda shook her head.

“No,” Zelda said quietly, detaching her hand from Link’s. “It’s nothing of consequence.”

She moved her hand to his forehead, brushing aside a lock of his dirty blonde bangs. 

“I’m glad you’re recovering well, Link,” she said softly. “I’ll leave you to your rest. We can talk more later if you’d like.”

She stood up to leave but didn’t get far, Link’s hand grabbing her wrist and seizing her heart.

“Wait,” was the word he spoke to explain himself. Zelda turned her head to look over her shoulder. She couldn’t help but be surprised that Link had indeed, meant to grab her, was entreating her with those soulful blue eyes, deep as an ocean and filled to the brim with conflicting emotions.

“There’s more to it than what I remember,” he said. “There’s…well there’s how those memories make me feel.”

“What do you mean?” Zelda said, turning her body but refusing to kneel at his bedside, her cautious heart already shattered enough to not risk being broken even more.

“Whenever I remembered something that happened between us,” Link began. “I would try to draw you, would try to capture your beauty, but the image of you was always fleeting. Sometimes I forgot whether your hair was truly blonde, whether your eyes were brown or green, whether or not freckles dotted upon your nose, your cheeks, what the shape of your face was. But each time I tried to draw you I felt like I was getting both closer to and farther away from perfection.”

“Link,” Zelda said as she shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t either at first,” Link continued. “I didn’t understand why I was so enthralled by your beauty, why the sound of your voice twinged my heart, why the thought of your touch made me feel the warmth of my blood.” 

Zelda knew what he was describing, and she knew it well. It was for that reason that she couldn’t believe his words, that she searched within her lungs for the ability to breathe.

“Link,” she said breathlessly, finally kneeling down. “A-are you saying…?

She couldn’t even finish her question but Link nodded nonetheless.

“Once I realized it was a crush,” he said. “I tried to ignore it, telling myself that nothing in my memories indicated anything more than an obligatory friendship, that it was disrespectful to think in such a way of someone who was royalty, but…” He bit his lip. “No cliff was as easy to descend as the one that dictates love. I fell quickly and I fell fast. It felt familiar too, like something was in ruins inside me but this time, it was simple to salvage, to rebuild and to…” Link chuckled. “I can’t think of another word.”

Zelda was speechless, her mouth slightly parted and her eyes frozen. Link didn’t expect his declaration of love to be so paralyzing.

“I-I guess I,” Link said, continuing in the absence of Zelda’s words. “I kind of got the feeling that you also have similar…” Link looked for another word, but it didn’t exist in his brain “…feelings…” He inwardly cringed. “So I figured I would bring up the subject...but maybe I...shouldn’t...have?”

Zelda was quiet, almost too quiet, before she stood and finally said five words, five words that left Link in the dust of such an anticlimactic response.

“You never talked this much,” she said, before shooting him with green eyes filled with conflict and pity and turning around to walk back down the stairs.

[lesless]

The ozone is Bad & it’s making my fiancé & I both extremely lethargic & sluggish. We have a few things to do this week, I’m seeing a friend tomorrow after work for drinks & we’re meant to do a one shot dnd Wednesday. We need to tidy the garage (which shouldn’t be a terrible feat) & list some things to sell (our old kayaks, an old bike, video games, a watch). This weekend we have a concert planned with our friend for his bday, but he has been feeling like shit from the chemo (obviously) & shouldn’t be around crowds (obviously) but he made these plans & we bought tickets months ago before he let us know how bad things have gotten so idk what’s going on with that…

Next week we have a friend visiting from TX for the 4th. We were going to road trip the week after that but tbh with the constant everything going on we elected for a staycation, we’re gonna do CO stuff like paddle board or go to springs & hike. Tbh that sounds like a welcome thing mid summer after all the goings on.

It has been over a week without nicotine & 2 weeks dropping to decaf/no caffeine + walking 7K+/day. I have been feeling pretty good!! My digestion & skin had a bit of a tantrum adjusting but now feels even better. I have been really loving tallow sunscreen so much so that I bought some tallow lotion so looking forward to trying that. I would like to buy some linen shorts for summer but it’s hard to tell if they will fit on EBay lol. Anyway once I find a pair I need to stop fuckin spending money. Kinda went wild after the tires blew my budget, then it was my love’s bday, then mine, so you know how that goes.

All & all things are good, I’m content & looking forward to some time off. The heat wave here is still milder than Texas summers so 91F is a bit nostalgic & it’s still cool enough at night with no AC. Happy summer, y’all.

[twstwonderlandstuff]

Sleep depravity

You feel like shit.

Flashback

Ahaha, the new year! A time for fun and festivities! Surely, that’s what YOU’RE going to be doing, right?

Wrong.

Well, I mean right, but it’s not fun by what most of NRC calls as. So imagine this, right, you’re sitting in yo damn class doing your damn shit when suddenly, your classmate whispers to you from behind.

“Hey.” You nudge an elbow, to show that you’re listening. 

“You should watch ‘Tales of the Seven Lords’. It’s a really good series.” You nod in thanks at the recommendation and your classmate retreats back to his seat. 

And the day goes on as usual: Running around campus doing your part-time jobs, occasionally talking to your friends and seniors, feeding Grim, appreciating how fine everybody looks today- pardon me.

So now, it’s bedtime and you’re there listening to Grim talk as you do your homework. Then, he says: “Oh yeah, someone said something about a recommendation, right?”

“Right, I forgot about that.” You nod, finishing your homework in time. “We should check that out to watch for New Years. It’s in a few days.” You sigh, bouncing your leg. 

See, unlike from where you’re from, NRC has a different curriculum, where the OFFICIAL tests come out somewhere in the 3rd and 9th month of the year, not the 6th and the 12th, so this is just cooldown time for you to kind of chill and relax. 

“Right, holidays~~~ We don’t need to listen to Vargas anymore!” Grim hums cheerfully, and you nod. He’s already loud and super annoying every time he meets a slightly muscular kid, but add THAT with him rambling about safety protocols? Nah, man, ya can’t.

"Ah yes, the holidays where everyone goes home and leaves us here to wail and stay all alone with nobody- I mean I got you but you know- nobody and probably have to clean the school.” You take a deep breath. “Lovely.”

"That annoying guy is going to do something like that...” Grim complains, rolling over to flop on your stomach. “I don’t wanna!”

“Same...” You reply lazily, fist bumping Grim’s paw. “Hahah... hah...”

Despite your complaining, you feel a little giddy. I mean, come on, you get the FUCK around the school, all day by yourselves! What’s not to love about that? And the series is sure to keep you entertained.

Flashback end.

‘That was a terrible, terrible thing to think about.’ You thought blearily, thoughts swirling around your head as Grim falls asleep on you, *heetos and dorr*tos all over your body, making you feel sticky and gross. 

It’s now the actual new years, where everybody’s gone home and like you predicted, Crowley did assign you to tasks- fucking bird, so you and Grim’s ass didn’t do what he told you. Fucking hell, the school’s been functioning DAMN well without you, surely the tasks not THAT big of a deal, right?

After goofing around for a few days, you’re getting bored, so you drag your lazy self to Sam’s store (where his friends from the other side are tending it for him) and rent out a DVD- Crowley didn’t gift you a phone, unfortunately (but still fixed that old TV set??? Man’s got some weird priorities)

You bring this news to Grim, who immediately begs and whines for you to open and watch the show. So you did.

The first episode, you were intrigued, but only a little bit. The same went for the 2nd and 3rd episode. You’re about to call it a lame series when you hit... the 4th episode.

It was a wild ride of emotions and wow... that scene where Henry helps the king really brought you and Grim to tears. 

You were hooked. Or in other words, you were fucked. Fucked because now, you can’t THINK of anything BUT the series, which forces you to stay at home and watch the entire god-damn thing and now its 2 days after that.

At... you blearily open your eyes and notice the cracks of light shining through the curtain. “Oh god...” At somewhere around 8 am in the morning.

“Fucking hell... I’ve gone and fucked up my sleep schedule... shit...” And for some reason, tears began running down your eyes. What the fuck? Are you THAT tired that’d you’d cry over your SLEEP SCHEDULE?

Yes. Yes, you are.

You hear a knock at the door. “Oh my fucking god.” You curse, rolling down the uneven wooden floors, wincing as you get splinters. You lethargically stand up  and open the door and look up to see...

HEARTSLABYUL

Someone 5 cm taller then you- oh screw off, you’re 145 cm, its okay to be pissed, you know?

“Happy new year, prefect-” You interrupt him.

“Oh.. you’re cute!” You grin gleefully, pinching the red hair’s cheeks.

“U-unhand me at once!” The guy with red hair shouted, forcibly taking your hands away. “Or its off with your head!”

"What, you’re gonna- you’re gonna tie me up~?” You tease, punching the guy’s shoulder. “That’s kinky dude... like tone down the horny ya know...”

2 guys with red-orange hair and other with blue starts laughing loudly in the background and you laugh too.

The guy with red hair STARTS turning red- oh my fucking god, people can turn red?

“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!” And a collar winds up around your neck.

“Eh????” You ask, lightly tugging at the collar. “What the fackin hell is this shit? Y’all really out here puttin’ collars and shit on people... in the middle of the day too... wow...”  You mutter, slipping into a country accent.

Flash! You hear a snap of a camera and turn to look at another person with a feather duster on his head- why does he have a feather duster- you know what, its cute, and you like it. You reach up and begin petting it, effectively blocking the phone he’s holding.

“Eto, prefect? You’re kinda- woah!” You look at him with a glazy eyes from those 2 days of non stop watching.

"Are you a...” You ponder, biting your lip as you blink repeatedly. “Are you... a fuck boy?”

(“CATER’S A FUCK- CATER’S F-FUCK- AHAHAHAHA-” Ace wheezes in the background as Deuce starts laughing harder, neither of them caring that they have collars on their first day back.)

Fuck boy has a bewildered look on his face, but before you could see his reaction, another hand goes to tug you back. You look up and... is that... is that lettuce, you see? No no way, it... it kinda looks like broccoli, though..

“Let’s get you to bed, prefect.” The broccoli tells you firmly, but like hell are you listening to a broccoli! Fuck man, you got higher standards then that, come on!

“No! I’m not listening to a broccoli!” You duck, effectively pulling out of his grasp and ran inside to wherever room you’re in and slam it shut. “YOU’RE NEVER GETTING ME, BROCCOLI MAN!!!”

(”Bro---brocoll-” This time, it’s Deuce’s time to collectively pound weakly at the dirt, one hand holding onto Ace’s shoulder as he looses it.)

Eventually, you slump on the ground and slowly... you don’t hear the brocolli’s voice anymore.. which is good (but like, why does his voice sound so... sexy??? Like, why??? It doesn’t make any... sense...)

---

Ace and Deuce finish from their laughing stock, having to hold on to the third years to get up from their position. “We’ll go check on the prefect.” Deuce tried to say, a snort or two making its way to the sentence.

“HAH- KINKY- KINKY FUCK BOY BROCCOLI--- AHAHAHAHAHA-” Ace was still loosing it as he walked inside, a tear streaking down his face. “I love the prefect so fucking much.”

Laughter bubbles up against Deuce’s throat as he walks in. “F...Fuck...boy...”

“W-where is the prefect, anyway?” They immediately see you, slumped against the hallway, snoozing away. With their strong powers, they gently lift and place you on the sofa, amidst all the gunk and shit that’s piled up.

“Ew, what were they even doing?” Ace cringes, looking at the mess. “It smells like shit.”

“They’re watching ‘Tales of the Seven Lords’- oh.” Deuce nods, in extreme understanding. He too, has pulled all-nighters with his gang to watch this series... oh how they cried like mad.

“Oh, that show... it’s bad. I don’t like it.”

“What?!” Deuce swiftly turns around. “But its really good!”

“No, it’s not, what? You got some poor taste, Juice.”

“It’s Deuce, not Juice! And you’re the one with poor taste!”

They bicker all the way, until they’re lovingly threatened by Riddle to NOT say a word, or its way more then off with your head, got it~?

SAVANACLAW

An extremely good-looking lion man- lion man, the fuck???- who lazily looks around at your dorm. Behind him is an EVEN better looking man, this one with a very fluffy tail and BEEG ears and BEEG body and my god, wow... he also sexy- like, sexier then lion man.

“Furry?” You mutter, your eyes falling onto another boy with animal-like ears and tail, except he’s shorter then the two, but his eyes seem to have more light in them.

“Happy New Year, prefect~!” He cheers on, his small tail wagging- oh that is cute oh my fuck- oh shit-

“...what the fuck? Why the fuck are there furries?” You gasp in alarm, running your hands through your hair in a frantic manner. “HAVE I MISSED A FUCKING GENERATION OF FURRIES?!”

“NONONONO NO NO NO THERE’S NO FUCKING WAY- NO-” You scream, falling onto the floor and grabbing a piece of your hair.

A shadow seems to loom over you, and you can feel something fluffy- or maybe that’s just you. “Prefect, are you okay- not like I’m worried, or anything, but...?” That line seems like something you’ve heard, but from where?

“Has the herbivore lost their mind?” Sexy lion man can be heard asking in the back, his voice quickly slipping into a yawn.

“Are ya worried, Leona?” The smaller guy teases, a ‘shi shi shi’ going past his lips.

“Tch.”

Well they seem like good friends- nice.

“I’m fine-” You look up and BAM WOAH WHAT IS THAT- SOMEONE’S PANTS AREA THING NOPE-

“I’M NOT FINE FUCKKKKKKK!” You scream back. The guy jumps back.

“Prefect, are you possessed?”

“By this stage? I might as well fucking be- HAH!” And you snort at that- it’s not even funny, you moron. “Oh, and also sexy lion man- yeah I’m talking to you, yeah you-” You point at said man. “I’m not a herbivore, okay? Like, I’m not a vegan (NO OFFENSE TO THE VEGANS OUT THERE), umm...” You slip into a dramatic accent where everything becomes more pronounced.

“I’m a fucking omnivore, and if you wanna like, insult me, please do it right. Thanks.” You pose, your hands making a heart shape, before slumping onto strong boy’s arms.

“Pfft- AHAHAHAH-” And Ruggie’s gone and lost his shit, because what’d you expect, right?

Leona looks surprised, before becoming very irritated, dragging Ruggie by the scruff/neck and walking away, leaving Jack to deal with you.

His seniors out of earshot and eyeshot, he glances at your sleeping form, which was nuzzling up to him, sighing in bliss as the warmth surrounds you.

He lets out a snicker despite his best efforts not too. Goodness, you surprise him every day.

He easily brings you inside with a princess carry, making sure to respectfully touch only your legs and you back to support you.

He glances at your sleeping form- what on earth were you doing that could keep you up so late, anyways? Oh, he finds out by passing through the living room, TV still on.

He finds your bedroom and lays you down there, not bothering to bring Grim inside- just kidding, he absolutely brings Grim in because he knows how much you love each other, but you didn’t hear that from me~

He glances at your form again and brushes some hair out of your face. The steady rise and fall of your chest eases him. Maybe he should stay here, just in case you wake up and act like THAT again and that’s something he’s sure a lot of people aren’t ready to witness.

He takes a chair and sits in front of you, once again having his eyes trained on you, seeing he has nowhere to look at.

A content smile passes your lips, and he smiles at that. What kind of dreams are you having, he wonders? (Little did he know its about him)

Wait.

If he’s waiting for you like this, isn’t that what you usually do for friends?! He stands up immediately, regretting his actions just as fast as he notices you squirm, sighing in relief as you settle back down onto your dazed state again.

“Happy New Year, prefect. Let’s make more memories together.” He mutters lowly, far too low for you to hear but somehow, you smile at just the right moment.

He leaves quickly, a red blush adorning his cheeks. No, that does NOT make him happy in the slightest! His tail isn’t wagging, his ears aren’t red, you’re lying!

Right?

Wrong.

Yeah, right.

Oh, god damn you and making him so confused!

OCTAVINELLE

An incredibly good-looking gent, with a smile on his face that doesn’t look as nice as it should. And look, he’s got a fedora! That speaks fancy~

“Happy New Year, pre-” You take the fedora and slap it onto your head, to the surprise and subsequent irritation of this man.

Or octopus. Honestly, they radiate the same vibe, so you wouldn’t know.

Then, you began doing the Orange Justice (cringe) as you hum- “Mhph, then you break it down! Down! Down! High! Down!”

“Is shrimpy-chan okay?” Oh what the fuck he’s so tall- THERE’S ANOTHER ONE YOU’RE SEEING THINGS-

“Oya oya.” HE HAS ARA-ARA ENERGY OH MY GOD YOU CAN’T DEAL WITH THIS- NONONONONO-

“Ara ara? Ara ara ara~ ara ARA!” You reply in kind, switching to a weird boogie as you sing offkey about a song.

“Under the sea~~~ under the sea~~ something, something, du do do do, under the sea~ under the grass, and till they fall~ ahhhh!!!” You grab the gent’s hands and drag him to you, paying very close attention to your feet as you attempt to tap dance.

The gent splutters indigation, so you leave him be and focus on your feet.

“Ne, that sounds fun!” The 1st double says, following you to dance- except he’s doing way better then you.

“Wha- how the fuck- that’s good! How the fackkkk... fuck... fucking... fucking fucking wop wop!” You giggle, trying to imitate his dance.

“Hehe, shrimpy’s funny when they’re tired!” Double 1 says, grabbing your waist as you shout in fright.

“Jade, maybe we should-”

“Let them be, Azul.”

Upon closer inspection, you realize that this ‘Jade’ has resonating vibes with Sebastian from Black Butler- wait, is this the twin cliche?! Where there’s the crazy one and the other’s the sane one?! But then again, he has that scary smile on his face... hmm, maybe that theory should be left alone.

You, still Double 1′s arms, shout: “Come on butler man! Join us!!!”

“Butler... are you referring to me?” He sounds surprised.

“Yeee! Come on dude,let’s vibeeee-” You stop mumbling and began singing again. “Oh oh, I’m a rebel just for kicks now! OWAH!!!”

“Owah~~” Double 1 joins, and Jade with a grin, joins in. “Owah~”

“...owah...” The gent also joins, albeit in a softer tone.

“What else, shrimp- eh??? They’re asleep!” Floyd pouts as he gazes at your non-moving body. “No fun.”

“Oya, maybe we should bring them back to their couch. It looks like a nice place to be.” Jade remarks, looking at the pile of chips and snacks on the floor. Floyd shruges, dropping you with a thud, but you don’t seem to wake up. Jade picks you up for Floyd and brings you to the couch.

Azul cringes at the sight of messy chips. “It’s giving me heartburn just looking at it.”

“Don’t lie, Azul. We saw you eating the same thing yesterday~” Floyd teases, a wide grin placate on his face.

“...I could’ve sworn nobody saw me! How...” Azul mumbles to himself, a red flush on his face.

“They’re asleep. We should leave them be.” Jade suggests, walking back to the group.

Azul nods. “There’s nothing I can make a deal about, anyway. And, the benevolent sea witch wouldn’t agree with that, wouldn’t she?”

"Yeah! Goodnight, shrimpy!” Still, you don’t reply, but Floyd looks happy enough since he hoists Azul up from his stand and walks out with him, princess style.

“F-floyd, put me down!”

“Nah, Jade looked really happy holding Shrimpy, so I’ll do the same to you~”

“Floyd!”

Jade walks behind them, watching as they have their fun.

Did I really look that happy? He glances back at your living room and gives a rare, sincere smile to the dimly lit room.

“Goodnight, prefect. I hope to get along with you better.” He whispers to himself, before closing the door gently behind and catching up to his brother.

SCARABIA

Sunshine??? in the form of a... homo sapient???? and a snake??? why the fuck-???

“Happy New Year, prefect! I brought you some food, a few blankets and oh!” The sunshine greets, giving you things, which you don’t have the strength to take, but nod as thanks anyways. He hands you a carpet, incredibly soft, 100% quality. “A carpet- eh, prefect?! Are you okay?!” The sunshine fusses, grabbing your cheeks in worry.

You melt, easing into the touch. “I’m okay now.” You lazily reply, giving him a slow wink. “Haha, get it? Cause- cause you’re here, and you’re the sun, and you’re cute, so like... haha? No?” You don’t let him reply as you sigh and nod, taking his hands of your cheeks. “Alright.”

The sunshine grins at your attempt. “I don’t really know what you mean, but thanks!” Oh my god he’s so cute-

“...hopefully, these things can dress up your broken- er, rustic house.” The snake replies, watching your behavior with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

You son of a bitch-

“Look, snake-man. No no no no, look at me. Watashi no eyes, you look at eyes- you see my eyes?” You stalk towards the snake, squinting at the bright sun (2 suns) as you trudge towards him. “Y-you see? Yeah, these eyes have tried their FUCKING best to fix up this dorm, so please, bro, please don’t like, mock it cuz like-- it’s really fucking hard- and you know why?!”

“Why?” The sunshine questions, just as you hope (but for some reason, the snake has backed away and is guarding the sunshine. You wonder why.)

“Lemme tell you why- lemme tell you why. So, this bird-man bitch boy I don’t fucking know, right-” The snake sort of laughs at this description as sunshine nods. “This guy, right, leaves ALL this SHIT to me- like BITCH, did you see the fucking state of this... I don’t know, um, SHACK?!” You point aggressively at the house. “Yeah man, it was SHIT! Like, there were holes, rats on the ground, and there were a insects everywhere...” Oho, snake seems to tense up at this, walking towards sunshine in a scared manner.

“The wood was rotting, it smelled like mold... the couches were moldy, the BED was moldy... it was... it was FUCKING shit mate, like the fuck?! You expect me to clean up that shit in what, like...” You bring up your fingers, not even counting. “Three fucking days? Like what the fucking hell, bitch? I’d like to- to- to know what the fuck crossed his mind, like the fuck, you know?”

“That seems hard, prefect. Do you want us to help?” The sunshine offers, but the snake interjects, saying: “Kalim (oh, so his name is Kalim, huh? Cute name for a cute guy!), how many times do I have to tell you? Don’t-”

“But it looks like they’re having a really hard time!” Kalim argues, pouting and looking at you pitifully, and you give the snake a woeful mourning face. The snake glares at you, before sighing heavily. Ah, damn, you feel kind of bad.

“Nah, it’s okay sunshine, I can handle it. Oh, by the way, have ya seen my baby?” You say nonchalantly, describing your feline friend.

“Baby?” The snake pales. “You have a baby?!”

“Prefect, why do you have a baby?” The sunshine panics too, eyes widening, forgetting the nickname you gave him.

“Yeah, I do! Wanna see-” Slump! You fall onto the ground before you can finish your sentence, leaning across the snake’s legs.

“Oh... they’re probably talking about Grim...” Jamil realizes, sighing in relief at the thought.

“Oh yeah, that’s probably it! Hehe, we think alike, Jamil!” Kalim grins, much to the chagrin of Jamil.

“Yeah, yeah, we do. Now come on-” Jamil lifts up your body, princess style and grunts. “Help me open the door.”

“Sure thing!” Kalim hums, opening the door. “What do you think they were doing, looking so tired?”

Jamil shrugs, walking inside ASAP, first giving the dorm a quick sweep with his eyes- he isn’t quite sure how to feel about the bugs you said. They pass by the living room and upon seeing the disarray, nod in understanding.

“Kalim, can you clean it while I put the prefect back in their room?” Kalim nods and gets to work, rolling up his sleeves.

Jamil smiles, nodding as he walks towards your bedroom, opening it with his foot. Surprisingly, it looks WAY cleaner then your living room- you really did stay up all night to watch whatever show was on, huh? The bed isn’t even creased.

Jamil sets you down gently, and you immediately roll to the side, sighing in comfort. He watches as the crumbs of snacks fall onto the bed, and thanks the graces that its not Kalim’s, or his bed that got the food spilled, phew.

Speaking of Kalim, how is he faring? Jamil walks back to the living room, fully expecting to see Kalim get distracted, but much to his ACTUAL surprise, the room is a quarter cleaned. The crisps are thrown in the trash bin and the blankets are folded up, albeit not neatly.

Jamil smiles, a little bit proud of Kalim. “Kalim?”

“Here. Shh, not so loud. Grim’s sleeping.” Kalim whispers back, waving from the kitchen. “I’m trying to clean the dishes, but...”

“Here, let me teach you.” And so, they two do their best to help clean the living room until it’s up to Jamil’s standard.

“I bet they’ll feel surprised when they wake up!” Kalim giggles, happy that it’s clean.

“I hope so, it’ll be a waste if we did all this and they didn’t notice.” Jamil frowns, crossing his arms, satisfied. “I’m sure they liked the gifts, Kalim?”

“Really?! I didn’t go overboard, right?!” Kalim worries, looking at Jamil in concern.

“You always do.” Was Jamil’s snide remark.

“Jamil!” Kalim pouts, and Jamil nods.

“It’s true.”

“Aww... I thought I really... aww...” Kalim shakes his head, cheering up immediately. “There’s always next time! Let’s visit Heartslabyul next, Jamil!”

“Let’s go.” And Kalim rushes out, shouting a ‘Happy New Year!’ to the dorm, despite his previous warning. Jamil says nothing, echoing his behavior as they walk out.

(And it’s true. After 14 hours or so, you wake up, walked towards the living room, and cried the SHIT out of your eyes. It really was nice to see, you know?)

DIASOMNIA

 You can’t distinguish who the fuck this person is, but they’re definitely tall. 

“Who the fucking hell??? Is so fucking tall?” You ask in a whisper. “Hello?”

“Don’t talk to Malleus-sama that way, human!” A guy that looks similar to a cucumber yells. 

“Shut up, my guy. Oh shit, sorry I probably sound really fucking rude hah.” You snort, pinching the nose of your bridge. “Um, what can I do for you? Or something?”

“You look pale.” A softer voice comments. You turn to look at him and oh fucking HELL he looks so... soft??? Princely???

“Woah.” You breathe, grabbing his face. He quickly pushes you off, but you don’t mind. “What the fuck... Your face??? Is?? Nice???” 

“Thank... you...?” He says strangely, stepping away. “Da- LIlia-sama, I think we should leave. ___ doesn’t seem to feel well.”

“Nonsense, ___’s fine. It’s probably just lack of sleep.” You let out a bark at that. 

“Hah, lack of sleep. More like lack of heat!” You giggle at that- why did you giggle at that it literally makes no sense. You turn to look at this ‘Lilia’ person and holy shit, is that a d i l f ?

“...Dilf?” You mutter, stetching out your hand to touch this short emo man. “Emo???”

“What is a dlif?” Emo man’s face contorts into confusion, one that is not often seen in his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that phrase...”

“Dad’s I’d Like to Fuck, because damn bro, you look- you look like you raised hot kids and set them on a frying pan do you get me, cuz like you’re also sexy? I don’t... yeah.” You nod  heavily at your sentence. 

Emo man and prince-looking guy’s face contorts into a grin and a horrified look respectively. Tall man seems to have the same face as prince-looking guy, while Cucumber just... freezes. 

“Are y’all okay??? You know what, I don’t- I don’t have- I’m not- I’m- I’VE GOT THE APPLE BOTTOM JEANS, BOOTS- BUTTS- BUTTS WITH THE FURRR, THE WHOLE CLUB WAS LOOKING AT HER~” You break out into a song, changing your voice to a country accent. 

“SHE TOOK THE FLOOR AND GOT THE JEANS AND WENT LOW LOW LOW low low low low...” You sync in with the music, going lower to the beat until you lay your body on the ground and slowly lose sight (or blurry shapes) in front of you.

You don’t know what happens next, but you do know that someone’s riding a small cow. With big horns. And hair? With the bit of consciousness you have left, you reach up to touch the cow horns. 

“Sick...” You mutter, and your hands fall slack on the small cow’s horns and you finally fall into well-deserved sleep.

EXTRA

“Lilia.”

"SEE SILVER, I TOLD YOU THAT PEOPLE WOULD-”

“I DON’T NEED TO HEAR IT, DAD!”

“NONE OF US DO!”

“Lilia.”

“I- I’M A DILF- I- I’M A DILF- HAH, I’M- OW OW OW... ow.. my back... oh, yes... Malleus?”

“I’m bringing the human inside.”

“Sure..- argh, ow ow ow... Silver, Sebek, come help me!”

“Yes, old man...”

“...”

“Pfft... a dilf... a dilf....” Malleus snickers at your naming choices, lighting up candles that you’ve strategically set. Once the lights are on, he can’t help but squint at the messiness of your dorm. He walks past the living room and opens your simple bedroom door, placing you on your bed. You don’t seem to be unbetrubed, but you squeezing something in the air. Ah, perhaps you’re looking for the cat? 

Poof! Grim instantly nuzzles into you, and you both sign at the warm heat between you. Malleus smiles at the sight and leans closer to you, and whispers: “Happy New Year, child of man. Let’s make more memories together.” He gazes at your simple room, and his eyes falls at your bedside table. He smiles fondly at the picture on your bedside table. It’s you, Grim and him in Ramshackle’s living room, you making flower crown as you bitch on about physics, Grim agreeing and complaining as well. 

He gives you a small pet on the head and disappears in neon butterflies. 

“Shall we go?”

“Oh, young whisperer, you’re back. I take it ___ is back in their bedroom?”

A smile blooms on Malleus’ face. “Yes, now let’s go.”

“Dilf.. dilf...”

“I can’t... dilf... I can’t.. no...”

*

I don’t fucking know what this is

I just thought--- lilia... is a dad.... and he sexy

and memes... and i created this fic

please enjoy it

[timextoxhajima]

GEN Z SERIES, CHANG MIN: Invisible Blindfolds

“I want her dead.”

Member: Changmin

Genre: Angst / Fluff

Word Count: 5.2k words

Taglist:  @lovely-kpop-writer​​ @yn-am-pm @fleurseoul​ @sunwoowuvbot​ @mystaydeobi​ @fullsunsays​ @glcwing0​

The corners of your eyes well up with tears, and you swore you’d get a tummy ache the next morning from laughing all too hard. 

“Spin the damn thing again! I’m not going into the closet with him!” Chanhee nearly screams his head off, getting onto his feet just as the soju bottle stops, pointing dead straight at him. 

Ji Changmin gets up from beside you, and steps across the carpet, hands outstretched towards his classmate.

“No, fuck off!” 

The laughter in your abdomen forces you to double over, nearly spilling the cup of Coke mixed with Whiskey in your hand. 

Kevin and Eric get to their feet in a bid to force Chanhee along with the game, and you lean over on your best friend, watching your boyfriend turn back and grin at you as he followed his screaming friend into the closet. 

“The things I’d do to have what you have with him,” Your friend almost shouts, trying to beat the rest of the crowd in the room.

Exams had just ended and you had been cordially invited to an end-of-year party at Kevin’s place as Changmin’s girlfriend. 

“Mm,” A hum commands you to take a sip from your cup, just as Eric and Kevin lean on the closet door from the outside, and Chanhee’s screaming only tickles your funny bone even more. 

The alcohol burns your chest, but it was for a good cause; you were having fun. 

“You say that as if you don’t have just about the greatest thing with Kevin.”

The sparkle in your friend’s eyes would’ve gone unnoticed had you blinked, and you can’t help but to snuggle in further into her neck, resting your head on her shoulder while you revel in the atmosphere of the party. 

Chanhee literally crawls out of the closet once the phone’s timer goes off. Changmin walks out with his mouth covered and wide eyes while Chanhee hurls strings of vulgarities at him, back to the floor like he had just been abused.

“Oh my God, what did you do?” The view stuns you, and Changmin naturally struts over to you, his free hand dangling by the side of his thigh calling out for you to hold it.

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Liar--” Chanhee’s eyes are so wide open, his blue contacts might’ve popped out. “He tried to kiss me!”

And the crowd bursts into laughter, including you. 

“Why are you laughing?” Chanhee throws a tissue ball at you, getting to his feet and returning to his spot on the carpeted living room floor. “Control your man.”

“He’s well controlled,” You come down from your high, and pull on Changmin’s hand so he’d sit down. “It’s not my fault he likes you more than he likes me.”

Some in the circle snort, and Changmin pulls you into a headlock, ruffling your hair like you didn’t put effort into styling it before coming. 

And so, the moon hangs itself for all eternity in the dark sky when you leave Kevin’s home, your friend by his side and the group of boys behind you howling and screaming as if they didn’t have to worry about being a public nuisance. 

“Goodnight, Kevin!” You call out over your shoulder, and the others follow suit. 

The door shuts with two smiles behind, but you turn to watch Chanhee and Changmin struggle a little to support the little ball of sunshine who had too much to drink.

“I can go home on my own, you guys need to take care of him.”

Changmin looks up upon your suggestion, watching as you shove your hands into the pockets of your hoodie. 

“What? No.”

Chanhee grunts as Eric nearly slides off, mumbling something about the cat on the other side of the road. 

“I’m not going to be able to bring him back home alone.”

Changmin’s eyes flit between you and his friends, his expression dulling when he realises he doesn’t really have much of a choice.

“Come with us? I don’t want you walking home alone.”

A yawn crawls up your respiratory system, and the remnants of the alcohol gets seeped into your blood as you shake your head.

“I’m fine,” You shrug lightly. “I can take care of myself, but Eric obviously can’t.”

“Your girlfriend’s right,” Chanhee grunts when Eric suddenly does a little skip on a floor, despite his right arm being hooked around Chanhee’s neck. “Eric’s going to spend the night on some pavement if we don’t get him home.”

Changmin looks a tad bit upset with your refusal to walk with them, but he knows he’ll be wasting his breath trying to convince you to go along.

“Okay,” He leans over and pecks you on your forehead. “Be careful, and text me once you get home, okay? Don’t wait up, we’ll probably be awhile.”

The tone in his voice is heavy, and for a moment you worry that he might be more than upset that you were stubborn and rock-headed. 

But Eric starts trying to braid Chanhee’s hair, leaving Changmin no choice but to help untangle his hair from Eric’s fingers. 

You watch for awhile until they disappear around the block, Changmin turning and giving you one last glance before they are out of sight.

The walk home is quiet, apart from the cricket chirping and the occasional car that drives down the road.

You can’t help but to wonder if Changmin really was pissed off with your stubbornness. The stars in the dark sky glimmer down at you, and if you tried hard enough, you could almost see Andromeda, or Mars -- well, it was either or, since both had a shade of red to them if you were to see them in the sky.

The ink sky collects you into its silence and peace, leaving you to wander through the fields of thought in your head before the sun was to rise again. 

A honk outside your house jolts you awake, and your eyes immediately squint away from the bright sun flooding the four walls of your room. 

It is a surprise to realise your phone is a lack of messages -- or replies -- from Changmin when you roll over and fetch the device from your night stand. 

The house was empty, so you could only guess your parents had brought your brother out to buy some of that sports equipment he’s always been wanting to get. 

By nature, you call Changmin, but it meets the dial tone. More messages swarm your chat, but they go undelivered.

WiFi seemed to work but why aren’t they getting through?

A slight headache starts to knock on the inner shell of your skull, and you realise a small cut on your thigh.

Must’ve been Kevin’s house. Wooden floor boards and their splinters.

You forgot to charge your phone before you passed out last night, so it’s a frustrating dead-end when your phone’s battery drains out within the next few minutes.

It wasn’t the first time you’ve been at a social event with Changmin, so being his girlfriend has taught you that he had a habit of sleeping in the next morning after a drinking session. It doesn’t really bother you that you might only come into contact with him when you’re back in school.

Yet the universe thinks it’s fun to pull a prank on you -- for not only is Changmin’s shadow almost out of sight; nobody speaks to you. 

The confusion was overwhelming, nibbling away at your consciousness and your social awareness. Not only did Changmin and his friends seemingly disappear off the face of Earth, so did yours. 

Their seats remain empty for a day, and some don’t even return after the second, including Changmin.

You take the opportunity to run the question through your friend, two of the three who was back in school and the last one gone from your radar as well. 

The cafeteria is bustling as usual, though not as noisy because none of the noisier boys in Changmin’s group of friends were around.

“Do you know what happened to Changmin? And where were you the last two days?” You rest your arms on the table before you, for the lack of appetite from the mistreatment of your boyfriend begins to haunt you like a living nightmare.

“Are you alright? If you need to speak to any of us, we’re always here for you.”

“What?” Your brows furrow and your head cocks to the side. An alarm goes off in your head because that is a strange reply. “What are you--”

“Talk to us, we’re your support. We don’t want you dead in a ditch somewhere, okay?”

“Uh-- sure... I just--”

“Good,” A pause as she returns to her potato salad. “Let me clear this before we head back to class, we have shit to catch up on.”

Baffling.

The next day greets you like the devil’s smile the first time you see it in Hell, for Changmin walks right past you without even looking at you but instead exchanging knowing, suspicious glances at your friend -- the one who assured you her comfort and support just the day before. 

Changmin looked terrible; his smile was gone and the eyebags under his eyes were unmistakably caused by a lack of sleep. The red rings around his eyes are glaring, like he had been a fight and this was the aftermath.

Maybe you should start losing sleep over this too, but everytime your back hits the mattress at home, you knock out and wake up the next morning with a shitty ache in your neck. 

Changmin doesn’t enter your field of vision for the rest of the day, for you have no classes with him besides the chemistry classes on fridays. 

The stinging, wearing pain in your neck draws you to the bed once you reach home, and it feels all too lethargic, like a fever dream. 

The days pass so quickly, so fleetingly, and you weren’t sure if you were just too cooped up in your room studying or sleeping that you haven’t really gotten the time to talk to your family members either. 

They’ll understand. 

But I definitely don’t understand Changmin.

There is something wrong, but he feels so far away, uncontactable.

All those messages and calls to him but nothing. He doesn’t pick up, he doesn’t respond, he doesn’t even look at me in school.

The tears well in your eyes when you struggle to hold yourself together.

How did such a pretty fairytale become a living nightmare?

A phone in the house rings, and the anxiety in her voice thrums through the walls of the house. You wonder for a moment how it was able to wake you -- when your mother finds extreme difficulty in even waking you up on a normal day -- but you peel yourself off the bed anyway and walk out the room, feet snuggled into the thick carpet of the floor. 

It doesn’t take too long for you to realise your mother’s been on the phone for an extended period of time now, and it calls you down the steps of your home into the living room.

The phone is on an extremely high volume; your father has had hearing problems for the longest time so the rest of you simply endure the sometimes-painful levels of pitch whenever someone calls. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you--” 

“No, wait, plea--”

And the phone is almost slammed back into the set with a plastic clack. Your mother doesn’t see you because you’ve stopped yourself at the top of the stairs, bending over to watch the situation unravel under the roof of the first floor.

Ji Changmin is a phenomenon on his own, impeccable. There was absolutely nothing about him you hated, until he treated you like you were invisible.

Then your mother buries her face in her hands, looks up at the top of the stairs and spots you, but she doesn’t look you in the eye; she knows you’re standing there. 

Someone must’ve told her Changmin and I are no longer together, but for what reason, even I don’t know. 

The weekend roles around, and the strangest thing happens in the midst of you sobbing your heart out over losing him to a force even you cannot see. 

Why would he show up at your place with a shovel and a rose?

You watch from the window in your room as your older brother and father try to pry Changmin away from the hole he’s dug on your front yard from the window. 

Quite a sight to behold, honestly. But at what cost? Who was hurting more in the relationship? Why is he here when he hasn’t responded to my calls?

The man tried to plant the rose (still in a pot with a soil-base and all), but fragility gets the better of the fickle thing and its petals dribble off throughout all the chaos. 

Changmin literally gets yanked away into the family car, and if you blinked, you would’ve missed the way Changmin looked up at the window with such yearning, it might’ve been excruciating to digest.

There was almost no way you could decide when it all happened. 

Why did Changmin suddenly stop talking to you? 

Why did he stop seeing you? 

Why did he stop loving you?

The curtains draw back before your nose, your mother closing them for you, though she doesn’t say a word. Her back is turned and she shuts the door of your room behind her, the soft thud a signal to you that maybe it was time to close your eyes and let abyss of dreams claim you again.

Maybe this time -- finally -- you’ll forget you ever loved him. 

Then again, it’s not easy to pretend like you hadn’t once had your hands all over him. It’s not easy to pretend like you didn’t just sit and watch the love of your life perform favourite song before an audience, despite the lyrics being heartbreaking... but watching him dance was like watching the waves crash against the shore, the trees hiding the sunshine from the skies.

It’s not easy to pretend that Changmin didn’t actually make the song your reality. 

The cotton of your bedsheet sucks you into its comfort, albeit the memories still running in your head like a broken record.

It was just weeks ago that the dance crew you were in had finished the showcase, the same one that Changmin had performed Maniac in the gym, that Changmin sent you home.

The crickets on out on your lawn were chirping and halted the moment the both of you were walking along the path up to your porch. The night temperature was colder than comfortable, so Changmin has his windbreaker wrapped around your shoulders, and his left hand interlocked with yours, stuffed into the right pocket.

You remember clearly: he smelled like a disgusting mix of deodorant and his body wash, and you could smell his cologne on his windbreaker. 

Strangely comforting, however gross that sounded. 

And so, it is sweet like hot chocolate in winter and his jacket around your shoulders when he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

Your eyes travel up to his. Those large, round, doe eyes that you fell for after almost a year of being friends. He isn’t that short, so you can’t help the smile when you remember all the teasing he suffers when he’s with his friends.

“Goodnight.”

God, those dimples. 

“Goodnight.” 

The memory of that night swallows you whole like you were a druggies’ pills, and the night collects you the way the grim reaper would -- or should -- collect your already dissipating soul. 

I wonder why he’s crawling back now?

The hallways of school haunt you like Hell the next day; is this my Hell?

It might be, especially if Changmin walks by you, on his phone, and does not see you. He is distant, walking at the back of the group with his friends, and you at the back of yours. 

Everybody looks gloomy; did something happen that you didn’t know about?

Maybe that was why Changmin stopped treating you like you existed.

You claim your seat as per normal in class at the back with your friend, and the other two infront of you. Changmin is seated diagonally to the right before you, and you can tell he starts to drift off to sleep. 

Wait-- I only have one class with him on Fridays--

You realise he’s wearing the same pair of pants he wore to your place the night before, when he tried to plant that rose in your front yard. 

There was a patch of rubbed-in soil into the side of his thigh.

It truly is detrimental to your spirit, when you cannot piece together the information. 

Then the lyrics of the performance he pulled off perfectly comes back to stick themselves in the crevices of your brain like a parasite. 

You were with your friends, partying

When the alcohol kicked in

Said you wanted me dead

The pinch forces you to look away, the sound of his voice saying those words driving merciless needles into your skin, making your hair stand. 

“I want her dead.”

His voice rings in your head, though you have no physical memory of him saying that. When did he say this? Over the phone? To someone else? 

Why do you remember his voice saying these words but you don’t even remember seeing it for yourself?

The teacher’s voice is literally drowned out by all the other little clicks and clacks you can hear in the classroom. 

The clock ticking, people clicking their pens, tapping their feet on the floor. The scribbling. 

So, you shut your eyes, and the school bell violently wakes you up from your never-ending nightmare. 

Everybody is on their feet, heading towards the front of the classroom to get some worksheet from the teacher and one of your friends take one copy for you. 

She’s busy looking at the worksheet for herself, so she candidly slides yours under your desk, and seems to miss your little “thank you”.

Your friends forget about you -- which is a normal occurrence, because they know you like to stay behind after Chemistry to leave with Changmin. 

But all three of your friends spare Changmin a look of pity, almost pain and misfortune before they leave the classroom. 

The room is bare besides you sitting in the back and Changmin sitting in his seat, never really moving a single muscle until he slides everything into his bag and stands up. 

It is so quiet, you can hear him breathing. 

His laboured breath tells you there is something wrong, and if he wasn’t going to talk to you about it, then maybe you should find out for yourself. 

It takes a surprisingly minimum amount of effort to follow Changmin out of school and to the bus stop and the train station, because he doesn’t stop once -- he is rushing somewhere, steps larger than he normally would walk with and his hood over his hair, almost hiding his eyes. 

I wish I never loved you, Ji Changmin. You love me with all your heart with mine sitting in the heart of your palms only for you to crush it the very next day, and forget that I ever exist. 

Changmin alights at a station he doesn’t usually alight at, the situation starting to make it even more mind-boggling for you.

Just who or what was it that tore you away from me? We had everything, and the way your eyes twinkled when you looked at me made me feel like I was the only thing you ever needed. 

Then, Changmin gets on a bus, shoving his hands into his pockets. The sun was setting so the sky was turning into a gentle blue from orange.

So, was I? Was I the only thing you ever needed or did you realise that you were wrong, and that you could do without me? That you could be better off with someone else?

The bus stops, and Changmin alights. 

But what greets you is the daunting architecture of a building almost as high as apartment buildings.

It was a hospital.

Something dawns on you, but anger and confusion is not a good mix of emotions when your boyfriend suddenly stops acknowledging your existence without an explanation. 

What if it was your mother? Your father? No, you would’ve told me, wouldn’t you, Changmin? Or was it another girl whom your eyes laid on, and your heart decided her hands were softer, warmer for it to snuggle into, sing melodies into her skin and press loving songs onto her lips?

I wish you were dead, Changmin.

I wish--

“I’m here, y/n.”

It crushes your spirit when you hear the name ring in the halls of the hospital, or maybe it was just in your head. Changmin had entered a ward, but you haven’t seen what was in it.

The sudden nausea in your gut starts to grumble through your system, and your heart rushes like manic in the cages of your chest. 

“How are you today? You look better.”

If I looked hard enough, maybe I could see Andromeda or Mars--

Until bright, white lights blind you.

And your neck feels like there is a harsh squeeze around your spine on the inside, and you groan in pain to yourself, the movement shifting you forwards, just enough to provide you a view of the patient in the ward Changmin was sitting by. 

It feels almost aggressive, or violent, the way the truth of reality slaps you across the face, possibly breaking your neck and a few bones in the process.

But that was not possible, because you were looking at yourself lying in the hospital bed, motionless. 

Cast around your neck and stitches across your face, left hand in cast and one of your legs held up by a support, the physical pain starts to spread through your body just as the information clicks together. 

“I want her dead.” Changmin’s face is tear stained and he is drunk from the sorrows he ironically tried to drink away. Distant, hazy memory reminds you that he is distraught over your accident, for the doctor cannot promise a hundred percent survival rate, not after it’s nearly severed your spine, fractured about a dozen bones in your body and broken your leg.

“You know you don’t mean that.” The calming voice of your voice, though hoarse and also slightly strained, tries in vain to soothe the poison in his heart. 

“If she is in so much pain then I rather her--”

“Shut-- the fuck up!” Then she hurls her glass across the living room, and Kevin rushes to hold her back. She breaks down in his arms, and Kevin looks to Changmin with agony in his eyes. 

He knows Changmin is feeling worse, if not the worst in the room. 

“Are you alright? If you need to speak to any of us, we’re always here for you.”  The memory plays out in your head, leaving a horrid, bitter taste on your tongue. 

She was talking to the other friend at the table, and you weren’t there. 

Your room had been empty the day you were in the accident -- almost three weeks ago. 

The rose sitting in the pitiful pile of soil in your backyard gets surgically removed and then re-installed into the grass by your older brother, because he knows why Changmin left it there. 

Both of them are afraid they are going to lose you, but it’s not in their control to decide what the Grim Reaper decides to do. 

The soft beeping of the heart monitor is a stab to the chest when you realise it was your own heartbeat you were listening to. You slowly walk around the bed and sit in the chair on the other side, directly opposite Changmin with your lifeless body between the two of you. 

You are barely recognisable, but Changmin still looks at you with that twinkle in his eyes, though now shrouded with the tears coating them. 

Guilt finds you in places you never knew was possible, when you realise you had just played Changmin off as an unfaithful, unreasonable partner. 

All he had been was just the opposite. 

The tears fall from Changmin’s eyes, and God, how much do you want to reach over and wipe his tears off his face and tell him you’re still alive, and you’re still fighting. 

He gulps, not doing much to salvage his need to be strong for himself, or for you, and presses one hand into the back of his neck, over the material of his hood. Your right hand, with the index finger clipped with the pulse oximeter, held in his free hand, as he lowers his head in despair.

You don’t know how you’re feeling it, but maybe because the entity you are right now is your soul itself. So the pain is intrinsically sharp in your heart when you watch him crumble, and you cannot do anything about it. 

He sniffles and brushes away the tears streaming down his face, dampening the ends of his sleeves when he looks up at your scarred, wounded face. 

“I’m gonna hope you can hear me, because I don’t think I can say this again...” His finger is trembling when he reaches up and brushes away the hair by your eyes. “If you need to go, if you’re really in pain--”

The hiccups stop him, and you find yourself cracking into sobs, shaking your head when you know what he’s about to say.

“--if you’re really in pain, then go. I don’t want you to stay if all you’re feeling is pain--” 

His teeth are gritted, and you can see the strain in his neck when he hides his eyes with his palm, free hand still holding onto your limp fingers.

No, I don’t want to go if it means you’re hurting.

“I just... I know your family will hate me for saying this but I just need to know that you’re not in pain--”

No, this pain is nothing compared to if I don’t have you. 

“But if you’re somewhere in there, and if you’re fighting, I hope you know I’ll be here to wait for you to come back to me, no matter how long it takes.”

No, no, no, no, this was not how I planned my life to end--

“I love you so much... and I’m sorry I didn’t say it more. I’m sorry that you don’t feel it sometimes, I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you in any way, I just--”

He takes a deep breath and strokes your cheek. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The tears are ruthless yet intangible. They fall as tears from your face but disappear into nothingness just before they reach the floor. You try to wipe them from your face with your sleeve but they leave no marks. 

“No... no!” You know the screams can’t be heard by anybody but yourself, and you try to pick up the chair to hurl it across the room but you can’t shift it an inch. You try to kick the bed, but the mattress sheet doesn’t even crease.

“No! Changmin, I’m still here! I’m not in pain and I don’t want to go-- Please...”

Your knees meet the floor of the ward, your hands gripping onto the sides of the hospital bed as you listen to Changmin offer your body sobs and hiccups. 

The rough material of the bed makes you feel the texture, but it doesn’t leave any marks. 

You hear some shuffling and you look up with tired eyes, the pain in your neck calling you back into that lethargic ambience that you now reocgnise. The nightly “sleep” you’ve been getting is just your soul being pulled back into the reality you’ve been so used to, leaving your body here to rot and remain in its useless trance. 

The pain starts to ring a pitch in your ear, and you wince as you stand, watching Changmin stand and rub his eyes.

“No, no, stop!” The pitch gets higher, and the pain spreads a strange need to pass out throughout your body. 

How long are you going to be stuck in his vicious, torturous cycle?

You claw and scratch at the spot of pain causing the ringing in your ears on the back of your neck as Changmin leans forward and presses a gentle kiss into your forehead, lingering there longer than you expected him to. 

The ringing reaches a pitch in your skull that has you covering your ears and cowering to the floor, and just before you black out, you read Changmin’s lips as he whispers to you. 

Please don’t leave me.

The ring cracks something in your neck and you pass out completely, feeling your weight thump to the floor.

“What would you do if I got into an accident?” 

“What?” You frown and look over to Changmin, who’s got his arm under his neck and his eyes looking down at you. “Why would you ever ask that?”

He smiles, the neon stars pasted on your room ceiling still darker than the ones in his eyes. 

“I don’t know, just wanted to know.”

“Hm,” You pull the blanket up to your neck and turn to your side to better face him, rolling the metal ends of his hoodie’s string between your thumb and index finger. “I don’t know. What are the given circumstances?”

“You need given circumstances?”

You laugh, and his eyes are widened with amusement.

“Well, yeah. Like, if the doctors were to tell me you’re dead then there really isn’t much I can do, can I?”

A gasp from him tickles your funny bone again, and you push his chest, shoving him off balance. Changmin repositions himself now, pulling the blanket over himself and tucking his arm under your neck, so that you were resting against his chest and hoodie and his scent intoxicating you in every sweet way possible.

“Okay, what if I become brain dead or something?”

“So, like... alive but you’re never gonna wake up?”

“Yeah.”

Your eyes travel to the ceiling, the stars pasted mapped out according to your starsigns. 

“Do I have the choice of pulling the plug?”

“Mhm, you either pull the plug and get me off life support or you don’t and keep my body around but I’d never wake up.”

“I’d pull your life support.”

“Oh? Why?”

“I don’t want you to be stuck in a body you can’t do anything with. You love to dance and play sports-- I can’t imagine you being stuck in a body that doesn’t allow you to do that.”

Silence.

“You okay? Or did I say something wrong?” 

“Nah,” He shakes his head when you look up to him. “It’s just-- I’m glad you said that. You know me well enough to know that’s what I’d want you to do.”

“And here I was worried you’d want to spend the rest of your life stuck in a body that’s dead.”

“Nah, I’d rather spend the rest of my life with you, and if there’s no you, then there’s no point living.”

So, your eyes shoot wide open like waking up from a dream, but the ceiling is white and your body is being hugged with a thick, uncomfortable material you can’t recognise.

But Changmin’s voice comforts you, and when the tears from his eyes sting the wounds on your face, you don’t mind the extra pain when yours seep into the cuts and wounds too. 

[dzamie-oc]

11 - Holiday

i’m what the kids call tired

Length: 1500 words Rating: T (suggestive words, only kobolds are naked and they’ve got scales) Summary: Morning for a particular adventuring group, and it turns out there’s a holiday about slaying a dragon about. What an event.

-----

Falina groaned and shifted under the covers. A pair of somethings yawned, then snuggled back in against her, trapping one arm. Her mind paused for a moment, then, staying as still as possible, the human woman moved her free arm to carefully, tentatively feel what had latched onto her in her sleep. Scales. She felt the tough, but not unpleasant, texture of scales under her fingers. Opening her eyes, she found herself still in the room above the Adventurer’s Guild, with her elven partner still in his trance state against the wall.

A lump under the blankets shifted. The woman lifted them away, and found herself staring at a pair of jaws spread wide, baring a plethora of small, yet sharp teeth. Adrenaline surged through her body, and she reached for the knife on the table... when those jaws closed, revealing the face of a small, dragon-like creature with yellow scales and eyes to match, slowly blinking sleep from her eyes.

Right in front of her, Rinta sat up on her knees and stretched her arms up with a groan, giving Falina a good view of her bare scales. Then, the kobold leaned over, nudged the other lump in the blankets, and made some growling and hissing noises Falina assumed to be Draconic. A few moments later, a second, green head poked out of the covers. Kassar said something back to Rinta, but extracted himself from Falina’s bedspread and shook himself. The human looked at the yellow kobold, and noticed she was looking back at her. No, not at her - at the knife in her hand.

“A-ah,” Falina said, letting the weapon fall back onto the table. “Look, to my tired eyes, a yawning kobold looks a lot like a hungry dragon, especially a foot away from my face.”

To her surprise, the kobold smiled, and her tail swished back and forth excitedly, running into Falina’s leg. “Really? Oh, thanks!” She hopped off the bed and began to stretch the rest of her body, then looked back over at the human. “I’m glad your reaction time is lacking, then. I use magic best when there’s not a dagger buried in my scales.”

With her two apparent bedmates no longer on the bed, Falina threw the sheets off of herself and sat up, feet on the floor. With the kobolds having discarded their clothes before getting in her bed, she was relieved to find that her own garments were still on her. “Yeah, well, try not to yawn in my face once Arwyn and I hit silver rank. You’re not like the tales of evil kobolds passed around the Guild hall.” Falina pulled on pants, then a shirt, both a little baggy to conceal the tools of her trade. “So why were you two in my bed?”

“Why wouldn’t we be? You invited us to sleep with you last night,” Kassar chimed in, “something about it being cold.”

“I WHAT?!” Falina exclaimed. Off to the side, she heard Arwyn chuckling; the elf was evidently only feigning to still be in a trance.

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re warming up to us a bit,” the green lizard replied, “you’re very soft, by the way. I mean, obviously without scales, but still! Very comfortable.”

“I- with you two?!”

“Hm? What’s that supposed to mean?” Rinta said, scaly arms crossed over scaly chest. “We may not be dragons, but there’s no need for tha-”

“Ah, you younguns. Before we spill each other’s blood...” Arwyn interrupted, “Falina. They meant literally that they slept alongside you. Rinta, Kassar. In human slang, ‘to sleep with’ someone means to have sex with them.”

“Ohhh...” Kassar and Falina said.

Rinta huffed and put on her cloak. “That reaction was still rude.”

After they all got dressed, they opened the door of their room, ready to see what people needed helping and what creatures needed slaying. To their surprise, the hallway had been decorated with streamers, and they could hear raucous cheering and singing more clearly from the hall below.

“Oh, that’s right!” Falina said, “it’s Drachenfell today! Oh, we’re definitely taking a day to have fun.”

“Drachenfall?” Rinta asked. A human adventurer rushed past them, knocking her aside; in retaliation, she gripped her staff and growled at the receding hooligan, the glow in its crystal fading when a green-scaled hand pulled at her arm.

Falina pretended not to notice the interrupted spell, and instead explained, “yeah, about seventy or so years ago, a team of the king’s great knights slew the terrible dragon, uh...” She snapped her fingers a few times, trying to remember the name, and finally continued, “Kazerahad. And it happened close to here, so we celebrate it like it was entirely our doing.” With a proud grin, she crossed her arms and nodded. “Which, of course, it was, even if the knights came from other places.”

Arwyn tossed his dark brown hair. “Ah, and to your people, this is all ancient history, I’m sure.”

Two tails and a hand smacked the elf. “You’re forty, ‘gramps;’ nobody’s buying it,” Falina said.

Arriving in the food hall, the group broke off their conversation to grab a meal: meat for the kobolds, a salad for the elf, and eggs and toast for Falina, herself. They all reconvened at an empty spot at one of the tables. Next to them, a few adventurers with badges of copper or iron traded extremely true stories of the many, many dragons they, personally, had defeated, oftentimes without the aid of their party. Falina caught Rinta looking between her meat and the boisterous braggarts with a mischievous, hungry glint in her eye, so she reached over and tapped the kobold’s snout with the handle of her fork. “Hey, none of that. No fighting in the Guild Hall.”

“I wouldn’t call it a fight-”

“Not happening.”

Rinta still looked reluctant to give up her quarry, so Kassar spoke up. “So, this Drachenfall thing,” he started, “it commemorates the death of a dragon, in one of those ‘don’t be sad because it’s over, but happy because it happened’ things?”

“Well-” Arwyn started, but Rinta cut in.

“No, it probably started as a somber event, but over time got happier, because festivals are more fun than days of remembrance.”

Falina furrowed her brow. “No, it’s a celebration that the dragon died. There was a monstrous, fire-breathing beast terrorizing the city and devouring people, and the valorant knights saved the citizenry from its horrible hunger.”

“Ah... right,” Rinta said, her downward-curved horns seeming to reflect her mood. She tore off a bite of her breakfast and lethargically swallowed it in a few gulps. “So... maybe Kassar and I will take a small assignment or two, and leave you people off to celebrate the killing of Khazhra’ad.”

The human, for her part, felt like a bit of a jerk. She looked down at her own plate, idly listening to the roar of voices all around. The only one not downspirited seemed to be Arwyn, who finished off his salad before suggesting, “a pair of small, dragon-looking beings unaccompanied around town, on a day that’s, well, kind of about dragon slaying, and therefore probably has plenty of world-ignorant children and cocky teens with toy swords? I can’t say I like that combination.”

Rinta sighed. “Yeah, and beating or eating kids is a no-go, no matter what you think about my...” she cast a glance at the adventurers who were showing off scars that totally came from dragon fights and not accidentally stepping on a cat’s tail, before continuing, “... hunting desires. So, what then, Arwyn? Because if you think we should just stay in here all day, I’m gonna invite at least one of those humans to our room and have myself a snack.”

“We could go with them and try to forget the real theme of the holiday,” Kassar put forth. The others gave him strange looks: Arwyn looked impressed, Falina looked confused, and Rinta looked at him like he had renounced koboldhood and would be living as an alligator. So, the green kobold explained, “you said it yourself, there’s enough time for the celebrations to change. Besides, this is a pretty major thing, it seems; if we spend the day avoiding it, we’ll come up miserably short in our report to Azurel.”

Rinta gulped down the rest of her breakfast, and chased it with a swig of her drink. “Alright, for Azurel.”

Falina smiled, though her enthusiasm was still tempered by her earlier misstep. “Great to hear! So, we’d have to avoid... that, that... that one... probably there... oh! I know what to start with. You two can eat sugar and bread, right?”

Kassar shrugged. “We can eat just about anything. Our lack of gag reflex isn’t just for draconic pleasure.”

To the side, one of the noisy adventurers choked on his toast. Rinta leaned over and remarked, “another casualty of draconic superiority. Tragic.”

Falina shook her head at the yellow kobold, then leaned in conspiratorially to Kassar. “Well then, you’re about to learn the glory of funnel cake.”