#I myself am potent and unusual

[facultyloungecosplay]

Not beating the “may have parasocial relationships with indie perfumers” rumors. (House: Hex Mundi)

#she sent me Oliver for free so I HAD to order some samples at the very least #everything smells amazing in the vials and I look forward to trying them on skin the next few days 💕 #indie perfume #perfumery #hex mundi #I myself am potent and unusual

[remembering-angels]

My past life journey and what I learned so far in it (long post sorry)

I always believed in reincarnation, I always knew I had a reincarnation, but I never looked deeper into it, I hardly asked who I was, I just assumed I was. But one night last June made me want to look deeper into everything, I remember it was night time and I was just mindlessly scrolling through different things online until I stumbled on a true crime channel on YouTube, one of the cases the girl on that channel talked about was Ted Bundy so I decided to listen, I haven't heard much about that case in ages so I thought id watch, I remember the more she talked about it, the more a weird feeling came over me, a feeling I never felt before, like my heart was shattering, tears started to flow without warning, my tears just came. I thought it was weird but maybe it was just empathy, sadness for the poor girls that won't get to celebrate a birthday. but it was beyond empathy, I couldn't stop crying the entire time, eventually, I turned it off and went to sleep, but that night was strange, I felt as if I couldn't breathe all night long, I didn't have any dreams I couldn't catch a breath. the next morning I woke up again wondering what that all was about so I turned on a documentary about the case and felt all those emotions more potent than the night before, anger, hatred, sadness, it was unusual, I'm not usually like that, I don't usually feel like that when I read stories like that, not to this extent at least.

I decided to meditate on that and something told me to check past life regression so I did. In my very first regression meditation, all my worst fears came true, and my very first memory of that life was of me lying on the cold ground of a forest, sunrise in front of me, slowly losing my breath. over the past year, I did a past life regression every month, once a month I would go back into my subconscious mind, trying to find more pieces of the lost puzzle that is my past life, and I still do meditate every month, I meditated this month too. my biggest fear is always being wrong, wrong about my claims, my accusations, my facts, if I am wrong then I am disrespecting the dead right?... but over time I learned it's okay to be wrong, admitting that you were wrong puts you on the right path, it takes a lot of courage to admit wrong, and I was wrong in my journey a few times and I learned to accept it and keep looking for the truth, I think wrong facts happened when I put my expectations of what I wanted to see into my meditations but once I let go of my expectations I started getting on the right path, I started to see things in a more clear way. now after I let go of my expectations I feel more confident to say what happened back then, the picture of my past life makes more sense.

who was I? I started answering that question by asking myself what I saw in my regressions, names of states, names of people, and places. in one of my regressions, I saw a flag that belonged to a university, I started looking at flags of different universities until I stumbled upon the one that I saw in my regression, I was shocked that the flag even existed and not a figment of my imagination, I looked up victims that had any ties to that university, I looked up if it's possible for the events I saw to happen in that area, it was. everything fit, her story was everything I saw in my regression, her state of origin, her university, her house, her hair, and her. Everything just fit me in a way I couldn't ignore, even the little details, that was probably the moment I realized my regression is real, it not just imagination, it's real, it happened and it scared me, something I had to learn after discovering my past life self is to stop comparing myself to her, I would try to style my hair the same way she did, I would dress the same way she did, I would get upset at pictures of myself when I didn't look like her, to the point I would cry because I wanted to look like what I saw in my memories, I even tried to act like how I thought she would (and by she I mean my past life self) I had to learn to stop comparing, I am in a new body now in a new life, I'm not there, I am here. I had to remind myself this is a different body and a new reincarnation, I had to learn to let go of the past version of me and embrace the current me, to be myself and not try so hard to be past me, i am me now with a story to tell, i don't have to imitate or relive the same things.

now through all that I was alone, I couldn't tell a soul, while I have many friends and family members how can I begin to tell them my ordeal, how can I explain without sounding like a crazy person? I can't, I won't. so how do you deal with trauma, especially with something as horrible as getting murdered while living in a world where your killer is so well known, while your killer has a voice and you don't., I think reincarnating into a world in which I remember everything that happened and yet I can not be truly heard while he gets movies and books is a nightmare that made me feel even more alone. how do I begin to explain myself and my story to even the reincarnation community without sounding like a true crime junkie or someone claiming to be famous or some crazy girl? how do I deal with trauma when I can't tell a soul what is wrong with me? I remind myself that I lived a life before that life and I will live hundreds more lives after, what happened to me doesn't define me, I am more than what happened to me that night, I am more than that body, I am more than this body or any body. and then I embraced myself, I had to learn self-love and self-care, I comforted myself and sat with myself for hours. maybe we are meant to go through the past life journey alone, no matter how lonely that road is maybe it's supposed to be lonely? you have to sit with yourself, you have to embrace yourself, understand yourself, work on yourself, merge, and become one with all parts of yourself. more than anything I had to remind myself not to fall into depression, never! not over what happened to me. never. I had to live, I had to live the life that was taken from me, my suicidal thoughts that followed me since I was 17 slowly got replaced with that new thought, with the need to live the life that was taken from me to the fullest no matter what. that's why I think it's important to remember our past lives, how we got to this point, what made our soul the way it is now, and what stories our soul is made of, why we are here. at the end of the day, I think our soul is a book full of chapters and each life is a chapter to read.

anyways thanks for joining my monthly rant haha thank you for reading.

#past life regression #spiritual

[jander-sunstar]

Magical Plants of the Core

Vampire hunting is not my only hobby. Despite my black thumb curse, I consider myself to be quite a capable gardener, and you’d be surprised at how often the two overlap!

So, let’s talk plants.

Many Vampires have specific horticultural weaknesses; garlic for the young and the weak, fresh flower petals for those of elven stock, and burning tobacco or pipeweed for Vampiric halflings. But those are all mundane herbs, common enough and with a hundred other uses besides repelling the undead. Magical plants are much, much rarer, and also much more potent in the hands of a hunter.

------

Blood Seeker Garlic is an unusual item, a plant made magical through action and not nature. Ordinary garlic can be cultivated in such a way that it acquires something of the nature of the Vampire itself; water the growing herb regularly enough with Vampire blood, and the resulting bulb gains a taste for the stuff. This can then be thrown or otherwise pressed against bare Vampiric flesh, upon which it actually sprouts rootlike tendrils and tries to burrow into the creature to feast!

This is one of the rare plants on this list that I can actually make use of; I wear gloves as a habit, have little aversion to garlic due to my substantial age, and, obviously, shedding my own blood for a horticultural project is child’s play. Some hunters reject the use of Vampire blood as black magic, but I provide occasional gifts of blood seeker garlic to those of my acquaintance that will accept them; any edge is worth keeping, in our line of work.

------

Nightblight is a species of wolfsbane unique to Kartakass, in an example of the land providing a counter to its ruler’s evil, and though its effects are not limited to Vampires, it is a preeminently useful herb for any hunter - provided you find yourself within its very limited growing range. 

Nightblight is, put simply, utterly repellant to anything that even resembles a wolf. To humans and ordinary animals the scent is barely detectible, but any shapechanger with a wolflike form - werewolves, wolfweres, and yes, many Vampires - will refuse to go anywhere near the stuff unless possessed of the most iron of wills. Natural wolves are likewise repelled, and even those transformed into wolves by arcane magic find themselves loathing the smell of the plant. I can speak from personal experience here; even on two legs the scent is vile, and my attempts to collect some for personal use failed utterly.

------

Lilies of Eternal Slumber are native to the jungles of Valachan. These nightblooming flowers are pale on the outside and bright crimson on the inside; upon contact with Vampiric flesh, the petals act as holy water does and burn quite severely. So strong is this effect that a lily can be presented as a holy symbol and used to keep an attacking Vampire at bay, and if a wreath of four blooms is placed around a Vampire’s neck, it mimics the full effect of sunlight - up to and including lethality.

The lily has passive effects as well; any mortal that holds a bloom is more easily able to resist a Vampire’s charm, and anyone already dominated in such a way has a chance to break free upon touching the flower - although they will resist doing so.

The most potent ability of these flowers, however, is that which gave them their name. If but a single bloom is placed on a Vampire’s resting coffin, the Vampire within will be sent into the deepest sleep possible for our kind, short of true death. This effect can only be ended if another creature removes the flower, and a Vampire trapped in such a way risks starvation over the course of many years. I cannot help but wonder if the lily was not an ingredient in the poison that was Strahd’s punishment upon his grandniece, my dearest Lyssa, for her attempt to unseat him as ruler of Barovia.

Unfortunately my efforts to cultivate the plant outside of Valachan were unsuccessful - and, really, even I am not foolish enough to keep a stock of such a plant close to my own home. As a hunter I cannot make effective use of it, and as a Vampire I am as vulnerable as any other to its effects.

#magical plants #lore #ravenloft #dnd #vampires #magical plants of the core #i intended this to be just one post #but then i fell down a hole and now i've got two more in the works

[rafor]

EXTRA - Chapter 42b - The Inn - The Glitch

Greetings, I am Raphael the Archangel, your narrator for this tale. Let me begin by setting the scene. For a long time, I had been waiting for something meaningful to happen in this dull world. Something that would stir my soul and challenge my mind. But nothing came. I spent my days wandering aimlessly, exploring and studying the secrets of these lands, but finding no satisfaction. I grew weary of my solitude and feared that I might lose myself in a dark abyss of apathy and isolation. So I resolved to seek some diversion in the city of the Hidden Shadows, where entertainment and intrigue abounded.

I assumed the form of a shadow dragon, one of the common inhabitants of the city, but with some personal touches to make it more appealing. It was not unlike the times when I had to infiltrate the enemy ranks during the ancient wars. I blended in easily and soon found a way to earn something. I worked as a mercenary, testing the new weapons that were being developed by the ingenious craftsmen of the city. No one questioned my identity, and I gave myself a false name to avoid suspicion. I was known as Devon, a simple orphan who grew up on his own, looking for adventure.

One day, after completing a job, I decided to visit an inn and have a drink. I hoped to find some friendly company, or at least some civilized conversation. I wanted to feel alive again and have some purpose and direction. If I failed, I could always return to my old life or, even worse, retreat into a passive existence inside Raphael’s mind, watching his life through his eyes without his awareness. But I did not give up hope.

At the inn, I was greeted by the innkeeper, who smiled warmly at me. “Welcome stranger,” he said. “What can I get you?”. I asked him what he recommended, and he said, “We have a special drink here that is very popular among our customers. It’s called frostfire. It’s made with ice cold water and spicy pepper essence. It’s a refreshing and fiery drink that will warm you up in no time. Would you like to try some?” I hesitated, wondering if it was safe to drink such a strange concoction. He chuckled and said, “Don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe. It’s one of our specialties. Trust me, you won’t regret it.” I decided to take the risk and said, “Alright then. I’ll have a glass of frostfire.” He nodded and said, “Good choice. You’re in for a treat.”

I have to admit, it was good. A very unusual blend of flavors, but unique and delicious. I had never tasted anything like it before, and I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed it.

I lifted again the glass to my lips and savored the icy heat of the frostfire, a drink that burned and chilled at the same time. It was delicious but also potent. I was about to ask for a second one when the innkeeper leaned over the counter and said, “Easy there, friend. That’s a strong drink. We don’t want to get you drunk on your first visit.”

I shrugged and said, “It doesn’t matter. It’s really good.” The innkeeper had a moment of respite from his busy work and started to polish some glasses. He gave me a curious glance, as if he was trying to read me. He said, “I haven’t seen you here before. What brings you here? You look distressed.”

He was not wrong. I had a fresh scar near my eye, a souvenir from testing one of the weapons I had acquired. I didn’t bother to heal it, thinking it added some character to my face. I said, “It has been a long day. Actually, for the past few weeks, I’ve been working nonstop, and I never had the chance to explore this place. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Devon.”

He smiled and said, “Zane. The old but young soul, they call me.” I raised an eyebrow and asked, “Oh? And why is that?” He didn’t look old to me, just middle-aged. He chuckled and said, “Well, if you say so.” I realized he might have taken my question as an insult and quickly added, “No, no, I was just joking. You don’t look old at all. You look normal.” He laughed again and said, “Ahah, what a guy.” I joined him and said, “I should say so. For myself. Old one with a young soul. Pfff.”.

He looked at me with interest and asked, “You don’t look much older than a boy. How old are you?” I smirked and said, “Oh, you don’t ask that of a customer without telling them first.” He nodded and said, “Fair enough. I’m around six centuries old. What about you? It’s your turn now.”

I decided to have some fun and lied, “You don’t want to know. I’ve got to count in thousands.” I was good at acting, and there was some truth behind my words. If I had to count the years I spent as an archangel, it would take me a long time, too many lives buried in the past. He didn’t believe me and said, “That’s impossible. I would have met you before.” I said, “You would have, if I was around. But I was working away.” He leaned closer and said, ignoring another customer who called for him, “Sounds like you’ve got a story to tell.”

He went to serve the other customer, who was a female dragon wearing a hood that concealed her features. She looked like a bounty hunter or something. She got her drink, and then the innkeeper came back to me and said, “I’m back. Want something else?” I said, “Another frostfire, please.” He hesitated and said, “Are you sure? A second one?” I nodded and said, “I can handle that, thanks.”

I noticed that the female dragon was listening to our conversation with interest, but I pretended not to care. The innkeeper brought me another frostfire and said, “All right then, but be careful. As a word from the wise, don’t drink all of it.” I thanked him and took a sip of the liquid.

He disappeared from my sight, heading to some unknown room. I found myself alone in the inn, except for a few strangers and the witch who was eavesdropping on me. I lifted my drink and swirled the amber liquid in the glass, tilting it slightly to catch the light. I pretended to be fascinated by its color and texture, but I was really lost in thought. I didn’t notice the shadow dragon shifting her seat until she was right beside me. She leaned in and whispered, “Devon, isn’t it?” Her voice startled me out of my reverie. I looked at her with a mix of surprise and wariness. “Excuse me, what?” I asked. She repeated, “Devon, your name.” I nodded, wondering how she knew. “Yeah, why do you care? Who are you?” I demanded. She lowered her hood for a moment, revealing a face that was both beautiful and tragic. “My name is unspeakable. I’m afraid,” she said with a tone of sorrow and dread. I snorted, “Whatever you say, darling.” She fell silent and pulled her hood back up. She had the same drink as me. We both took a sip, avoiding eye contact. She broke the silence first. “Have I seen you somewhere recently?” she asked casually. I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Why?” She glanced at me with a hint of curiosity and admiration. “You look like a mercenary. The scar and the weapons you carry around. You have the mark of a dragon who can handle any job.” I realized she was offering me some kind of deal that I wanted no part of. I said firmly, “No thanks. I only take orders from my superior. Unless you’re some hidden general that I’m unaware of, I’m not interested.” She didn’t say anything else. I drained my glass, feeling nothing from the alcohol, and left some cash under it for the innkeeper. Then I got up and walked out of the inn.

I stepped outside and saw him leaning against a wall, looking like an ordinary guy. But he was far from ordinary. He was the dark lord, the most powerful being in this "nation", and technically my superior due to the job I just became part of. I pretended not to notice him and walked away, but he was faster. He grabbed me by the arm and turned me into a shadow, whisking me away to a secluded spot. I played along and asked, “My lord, what are you doing?” He smiled and said, “Oh, nothing. I just want to have a chat.” I said, “What can I do for you?” He said, “Be honest, maybe.” I said, “Sorry, what?” He looked me in the eye and said, “It’s an honor to meet you, Raphael 2.0.” I said, “I think you’re mistaken. I’m Devon.” He said, “Be honest, I said.” I sighed and said, “Ok, fine. What do you want?” He shrugged and said, “Again, I just want to talk with you.” I said, “About what?” He asked, “Did you enjoy the city?” I said, “What kind of question is that?” He said, “I'm just getting feedback.” I said, “Well, it’s a bit dark for my taste. But otherwise, it’s quite advanced.” He nodded and said, “That’s good to hear. Thank you. So what are you doing here by yourself?” I said, “Nothing much. And to be honest, I’d rather not talk with you.” He asked, “Oh, and why is that? I haven’t done anything to you.” I said, “You just kidnapped me from where I was. That’s not exactly a friendly way to start a conversation.” He said, “I was doing you a favor. We don’t want to attract any attention, do we?” I joked sarcastically, “We want to be like shadows hiding in plain sight. I get it. But this is your city. I wouldn't bother.” He laughed dryly and said, “Very funny!” I said, “Anyway, I don’t associate with someone who is marked for death by the gods. You should watch your back if you don’t know that already.” He asked innocently, “And why would they want me dead? What have I done wrong?” He sounded like a child who didn’t know any better, but he was far from innocent. So I listed his crimes: “First of all, you broke the most basic rule of respecting the lifespan of your kind. You were supposed to die after two thousand years, maximum. But here you are, still alive after more than four thousand. Then you made everyone hate shadow dragons and turned them into enemies in the eyes of the world. You can’t even leave your land without being hunted down. Sounds great, doesn’t it?” He opened his mouth to reply, but we were interrupted by a loud noise.

As I was talking to the leader, a group of shadow dragon soldiers approached us, dragging a prisoner along. I recognized her as the half-blood witch I had seen at Zane’s inn. The chief saluted the dark lord and said, “Sir, we have captured an intruder.” He turned to me and apologized, “Sorry, give me a moment,” before joining them. I stayed back and listened to their conversation from afar. But curiosity got the better of me, and I moved closer, which proved to be a mistake.

The chief reported, “We found this little half-blood criminal hiding at Zane’s inn.” The dark lord glanced at me with a smirk that seemed to say, “Oh, just where you were. I wonder why.” He asked the chief, “How long ago?” The chief answered, “Zane said she had been there for about half an hour. We just got her.” The dragoness looked at me with a desperate expression, as if I could somehow help her. But I didn’t even know her, and I had no intention of getting involved.

The dark lord waved his hand dismissively. “Well then, we’ll deal with her later. Now get out of my sight.” The soldiers obeyed and left with the prisoner. The dark lord turned to me and said mockingly, “What a coincidence! Was that a friend of yours?” I shook my head, but he didn’t seem to believe me. He noticed the bracelet on my wrist and said, “Oh, and you also have one of the bracelets. Congratulations! You have given yourself to me.”

I knew what he meant. The bracelet was a device that the mercenaries gave to their recruits. It had many functions: it could tell the time, locate the wearer, and communicate with others. But it also had a hidden feature: it could allow the superior to take control of the wearer’s mind. As soon as I got the bracelet, I searched for a way to remove it without triggering the alarm. Then I dismantled it and took out the crystal inside. No one knew about this, and now the dark lord thought he could use it to manipulate me. So I decided to play along. If he thought I was going to become one of his soldiers, he would let me in on his plans more easily.

He said, “I can’t wait to see what I can do with you. Raphael. It seems you have been acting against us. But I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself.” I said sarcastically, “This won’t improve my view of you.” He replied confidently, “We’ll see about that.” He then ordered me to come up with a way to get rid of the other Raphael. I said, “He can’t be killed, but you already knew that since you said it in your speech. I can only try to.” He said, “Hmm. There must be a way to at least temporarily lock his powers.” I lied partially and said, “You can only suspend them if you hit him in the right spot.” He said, “Excellent, then do it. It’s your job. But you can’t do it like this. We don’t want a shadow dragon to be linked to the attack on a king, do we?” I agreed, “We don’t, sir.” I had to make up a plan and explain it to him. He seemed convinced by it, so we moved on.

We had tracked Raphael’s nocturnal flight pattern and knew where to ambush him. He was now calling himself Nox, but that didn’t change our mission. We waited in the shadows until he came into view, a dark silhouette against the full moon.

I shifted into my demonic form, a black humanoid with bat wings and metal Vs instead of horns. I had painted them black to blend in with the night. I wielded a bow and arrow, a primitive weapon that would conceal my true identity as a hi-tech shadow dragon. The dark lord was hiding in the forest, ready to witness the spectacle. He had essentially forced me to do his bidding, but he didn’t know that I had a plan of my own.

I saw Nox flying with his queen and their eagle companion. I aimed for his heart and released the arrow. It hit him squarely in the chest, making him falter in the air. The queen rushed to his side, while the giant eagle shielded him from further attacks. They retreated towards the walls of their city, where the guards were alerted.

I followed them, keeping a safe distance. They spotted me, but they couldn’t recognize me. I shot another arrow, hoping to finish him off. They were fast, and I missed my chance for a third shot. They reached the walls, and the guards were coming out. My second arrow grazed his neck. I had aimed for his head, but it was still a good hit.

The dark lord watched from afar, pleased with my performance. He thought I had done what he wanted, even though I had failed to kill Nox. I rejoined him, and he said, “Good job, Raphael. You made him run away.”

I said, “Shut up and let’s get out of here.” He snapped at me, “Don’t insult someone who can control you at any moment.” I said defiantly, “You better make good use of my services while you can. You won’t get much from me by controlling me directly.”

He was about to retort, but then he noticed the patrols getting closer. He led us away through the shadows of the night. He was skilled at stealth, and he brought us to a safe spot where he opened a portal to the kingdom of the Hidden Shadows.

He dragged me through the portal and made me plan another attack. But he didn’t realize that I could lie to him and scheme behind his back. And I was determined to contact the dragon they had captured that night. She knew something that I needed to know.

#chapter #dragon #dragons #elements #fantasy #literature #mystery #story #poetry #adventure #the_glitch #the rise and fall of raphael

[parfumieren]

Balkis (Parfums de Nicolaï)

Once, I had the opportunity to sniff a real attar of roses straight from Istanbul. The perfumer insisted on holding the bottle while I bent my head over it-- possibly because it cost hundreds of dollars per dram, or else she thought I might pass out from the heaven of it all.

I understand that in saying this I am committing heresy and will be burnt as a witch, but what met my nose then -- a combination of formaldehyde, black pepper, and cheap dishwashing liquid -- shocked me. All Orientalist visions of rose harvests à la Rudolph Ernst fled before the advancing army of old-lady stonk.

I hated, hated, hated it.

How rose perfumes pass themselves off as dainty and feminine, I will never understand. They're the exhibitionists dreaded by all partygoers-- the ones whose booming voices and shameless antics send humbler guests scrambling for their coats. Even as bit players, they can derail an ensemble piece by turning inexplicably vulgar or sour. There's no predicting until the drydown hits whether you'll be soaring through a sweet pink paradise or swimming in a vat of vinegar.

So why do we keep trying? Because the rose -- the real one, fresh and dewy -- is what we're thinking of while reaching for the sad facsimile. We want that gorgeous thing, and will keep striving toward it no matter how many bad sprays, lotions, soaps, and Yankee Candles burn us.

If I'd stopped after reading the description, I'd have written Balkis off without a thought. Rose AND raspberry? To me, "fruity florals" in and of themselves signal danger. Raspberries figure large in this genre -- usually as unpleasantly as possible -- so I fully expected a great, big, sticky, Jolly-Rancher-flavored slap in the face.

Instead, the first note was a rosemary terpene, astringent and evergreen. I sat up straight. After this palate cleanser came the dessert tray-- but again, the usual sickening syrup was nowhere to be found. Instead, roses and raspberries had been cooked down to a concentrated jam, fused together by slow heat into something as dark, potent, and honeyed as Persian pomegranate molasses. Once this faded (thankfully not too soon) I found myself cozied up to a straight-up oriental rose: friendly, uncomplicated, powdery, and soft, as if headspaced right off of a living blossom still nodding on the vine. Balkis offers almost zero sillage -- unusual for a rose -- but having this scent stick close by your side is hardly a drawback. Above all, there's not a single trace of nasty guest-bathroom soap smell or any of the other demons that plague this genre.

Finally, a rose without thorns!

During a December many years ago, just on the cusp of a barrage of snowstorms which kept the Eastern seaboard paralyzed for months, I found my relationship with Balkis deepening. I cannot stress enough how much I welcomed its optimistic theme in the midst of frigid darkness. I asked it to absorb some of the sadness I was feeling, and it generously complied. Now Balkis has been discontinued-- but I no longer feel as sad or needful of succour. Life requires movement, and I am moving on.

Still, sadness -- like winter -- always comes back around. Before it strikes again, I think I will seek a new, rare rose as as an anodyne to strengthen my soul against the darkness and cold. I'm sure there will be perfumes that startle, delight, and captivate me as much, if not more. But none may comfort me quite the way Balkis did… and for that, I am profoundly grateful.

Scent Elements: Raspberry, Turkish damask rose, black pepper, coffee extract, iris, benzoin, vanilla

#balkis #parfums de nicolaï #perfume review #parfümieren

[neosphytezine]

Writer’s Block

There used to be a time where I could sit down with a blank doc and type away for hours. Whether I ever finished any of the stories I wrote is a completely different question but, at some point I used to have an arsenal of words I could put down on paper. Now…there’s nothing. Even as I write this, no part of what I say feels genuine anymore. It doesn’t hold the same weight and power that it once did. Each word is airy and cheap, just there to take up space so I can say that I wrote something.

I feel a lot of anger lately; towards myself and towards other people. I used to have so much to say but now everything seems so meaningless. The world used to seem limitless to me. I used to seem limitless to me. Now, I feel confined; trapped in a cage of my own design. Every time someone reads my writing, I retreat further and further into my cage in an attempt to hide from all the criticism. I don’t want to think about grammatical structures or my “audience” when I write. I don’t want to put each sentence through a logic filter. I want to slice myself open and allow whatever falls out onto the page to remain there forever. Raw and untouched. Why must everything be “good”? Why must everything make sense? What has happened to the ability to decipher meaning for oneself.

Like a senile politician, I blame TikTok. Now, all art must be spoon-fed and accessible. It must be good and virutuous. Every main character is right and you should agree with them. There is no such thing as an unreliable narrator. I even find myself falling into this trap. I can’t enjoy books with “problematic” main characters because that means I’m problematic. I must hate them. I must spend every second reading the book assuring the watchful eyes of the public that exists in my head that I too condemn the main character and I am a good person.

There is no more gray in the world. I am the art I consume and it is a reflection of my character. So why consume anything? Why create?

I am not a good and right person. I am a person. My flaws will bleed into my work and I will be condemned.

I don’t want to write about good people doing good things. I want all the worst aspects of myself to be heightened in each person I create. I want all my worst nightmares to reach a fever pitch. I want to create worlds that are bizzarre with characters that make puzzling decisions. I want reality to bend underneath the weight of its own rules and fold into insanity. I want a release from myself. I want to write for myself.

I crave the bizarre. I crave the unusual. It is so exhausting pretending as though I can fit in. No matter how hard I try, I will never be in. I will never be liked. I can never be digestible. So, I hope to make myself the most potent poison there is.

[neuromantis]

doing much better than i expected, but i still might go on a digital detox for a while.

other than that had to explain what marfan syndrome is to another doctor. she also asked me would i be okay undertaking the procedure with the medication i take for my sza. and i didn't know. i thought it is the doctors job to decide whether or not i am okay to cut up. like, i am pretty sure it's your job. i couldn't say anything conclusive and she waved me off to surgery. like. i know what my pills do. i know most common adverse effects and i know signs of withdrawal. things i can actually use in my daily life. not really whether it's okay to operate on a person who's zoinked out on psych meds 24/7.

the operation itself is nothing really worthwhile describing. i just had to take very very deep even breaths because i felt like slipping into a panic attack because i have a deep phobia of anything coming even close to my eye, not to mention cutting my eye and burning the inside of it. like, the clamp they used to hold my eyelids open was the most uncomfortable thing, i just couldn't blink and felt pressure for like 10 minutes until everything was done. the suction thing that opens your eye feels like someone pinching you on your cornea, which was extrmely weird but lasted like, a couple of seconds. the laser itself is completely painless and the only thing i felt was the clamp and the smell of hair burning. like that terrible smell when you burn your arm on an open flame and you smell searing flesh and burning hair. but also like, if you burn your arm or something, it is usually a minor thing. here it was so potent i have no idea how i didn't retch. but i like weird smells and it was certainly an unusual one. someone told me before it smells like bacon. but no, it smells like a whole piece of raw pig on fire - skin, hair and all.

i think i was over and done with the procedure itself in like 15 minutes. so i didn't have time for a panic attack. also i spent days before having a complete mental breakdown so i had nothing in me to continue panicking and fretting. like i am still pretty numb all things considered. i think my emotions will recover for longer than my eyes. because i realized something absolutely terrible (and really obvious) about myself and i can't just keep on living with myself like that.

i can see very clearly far away and i lament that it's overcast because i don't doubt i would have been able to see the stars for the first time in forever. for the first time in like 20 years i think. but closer to my face my vision is still murky and doubling. i am well enough to type this whole book out though (and forgive me if there're typos) on my computer (can't see shit on my phone) so it went better than expected, so much better really. they told me i would get my entire new vision back tomorrow and i have a followup appointment so we'll see.

it fucking blows my mind how well i see without my glasses and i would have cried, but i think i cried a lot today as it is and will be unable to muster up the emotion either way.

that's it for now.

#i am getting really terrible intrusive thoughts though and i wish i could just go to sleep to not deal with that #but i can't sleep on my back (like they told me to do) because i simply can't fall asleep and get sleep paralyzis #so i doubt i will have a good night's sleep today

[myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants]

A/N: I would like to preface this by letting everyone know that I am in no way knowledgeable about actual science things. That being said I am amazed that in a random draw I actually managed to get a prompt that had to do with flowers lol. This is my contribution to the BakuHarem Collab! Please take a second to check out the other contributions here!

Warning: bad science, no protection, swearing, overs!mulation, accidental exhibti0som, intoxicated smut? idk sex pollen is a drug i guess.....

W/C: 3.5k

“Bakugou, dude. We should not-”

“Shut up Kirishima!” Bakugou walks through the sterile hallways checking every corner for signs of other people. “That bitch took my top spot with some bullshit flowers?!” He finally gets to the lab that was granted to you for your research. After winning first place, stealing first place in the UA university science expo. He walks into the observing lobby, looking through the large window to make sure you weren’t working in the lab after hours.

“Just keep quiet and listen for any one coming this way.” He walks over to the security door and holds his key card up to it, the light on the scanner turns green and he hears the dead bolt slide open.

Kirishima is lingering behind him, hovering in the doorway. He turns to Bakugou to talk him out of this again but his friend has already entered the lab. “Ahh geez.” He didn’t even wear any safety gear.

As the door clicks shut behind him, Bakugou stops to examine the lab. Several different species of flowers in full bloom behind temperature controlled enclosures. Some of them are recognizable; lavender, chamomile, and jasmine. “I thought it would smell like the perfume department, this fuckin place smells like heaven.” Guess it wasn’t a new shampoo she was using then.

He walks through the aisles turning his head this way and that, trying to find something, anything that he can fuck up without it being overtly obvious. He gets to the back corner of the lab and sees a piece of familiar equipment. “Perfect.”

*****

“He said WHAT?!”

Your roommate flinches at your reaction to her news. “He told Professor Aizawa that your ‘Viagra flowers’ are a joke to the science department and they should ‘wither and die’.”

You’re fuming. That fuck tard Bakugou, mister my shit don’t stink is ridiculing my research? “All that man knows is how to blow shit up! Just cause I beat him in the expo this year, he thinks my research is a joke?!” You stand up from the couch, pacing in front of it and you can’t decide whether to scream or cry. “Why did I ever like that twat?”

Cause he has wide shoulders, big hands and scarlet eyes that -

“Oh for the love of god shut up.” Screw your inner thoughts.

Ochako watches you pace, worrying in her eyes when yours line with silver and your neck flushes bright red. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that.”

You stop moving and look at her, guilt flooding through you as she slumps forward. “Don’t apologize, I was talkin to myself babe.” She nods her head weakly and you stand up straight “I’m gonna go.” You walk to the door grabbing your coat and key card.

“W-where are you going?” Ochako follows you to the door and grabs your wrist gently. You turn to her and smile, she was always so sweet but you knew that if shit went down she would be right beside you, kicking ass.

“I need to blow off some steam, so I’m gonna go check on my ‘Viagra flowers’.” She huffs a laugh and let's go.

“Alright, don’t stay too late.”

You nod, put on your shoes and leave the dorm. It’s a bit of a walk to the building the lab is in and hopefully the cool breeze will calm your mind.

*****

As you walk into the building you are grateful that your professor is more of a night owl than most students. Considering how many naps he takes during lectures it is no wonder he can’t sleep at night. You contemplate going to his office to say hi but think better of it.

Don’t wanna end up venting about Bakugou to my professor of all people.

You walk down the hallway and notice the door to your lab is cracked. Not unusual, a lot of students from your class have been coming and going to see the different species of flowers and plants you are growing. Assuming someone didn’t shut the door behind them you take your phone out of your pocket to check the time. Out of the corner of your vision a quick flash of red and you walk right into Kirishima, Bakugou’s friend and one of your classmates.

“Hey! How- how's it goin?”

You take a step back, rubbing your nose from face planting into his giant chest. Does this guy eat boulders for breakfast? “Hey Kiri! Just gonna do some late night tests! You checkin out my garden?”

“Yeah! Flowers are pretty.” He laughs, it’s high pitched and obviously forced.

You take in his nervous appearance, the fact that he is still standing in front of the door and your mood sours.

“Where is he?”

Kirishima looks like he is gonna try and stall but one look at the fury in your eyes and his head hangs down. “He’s in the lab,” you rush past him and punch in the code to open the door. “I tried to talk him out of it!”

The door clicks shut and the spiky blonde huffs in annoyance somewhere in the back of the lab.

“I told you shitty hair, if you’re gonna keep a look out you have to stand outside.”

You clear your throat and his head shoots up. You walk over to him, taking note of all of the plants and equipment, taking note of anything that looks different. As you get closer to him you notice that he smells particularly good tonight.

Keep it in your pants idiot

“Really Bakugou?” You stop a few steps away from him, noticing the various disassembled parts on the counter top behind him. “What were you gonna do, break my extraction equipment and make it look like a malfunction? Are you a B-Movie villain?”

He stands up and you are reminded of how small you feel next to him, wide shoulders, arms barely fitting the t-shirt he was wearing, strong chest that tapers to a toned waist. He laughs and you look at his face. What I wouldn’t give to just lick from your navel to your neck.

“A B-Movie villain huh? That’s rich coming from the fanfiction cliché scientist.” He crosses his arms, your eyes quickly dart to the sight of his biceps flexing with the movement then back at him.

“Fanfiction cliché? What the actual fuck are you talking about?” You take another step towards him, softly inhaling his scent. Why does he smell so good?

He laughs at you again, the sound caresses your skin and you realize your feeling very, very hot. You drag your fingers through your hair, your eyes zeroing in on a bead of sweat running down the side of his face. When you lick your lips and shift to take another step closer a small part of your brain connects the dots. “What. Did. You. Do?”

Bakugou looks at you, noticing your flushed cheeks and eyes that show you aren’t quite your normal smart and sexy self. Reaching behind himself you hear the unmistakable sound of clinking glass, he grabs a beaker, an open beaker. “Just grabbed this from your equipment, I know how long it takes to extract this stuff. Would suck if it were to suddenly go missing.”

“You idiot! Do you know how potent it is in that form?!” You reach for it but he pulls the beaker out of your reach. “Why do you think I keep it enclosed? You have to close it up now!”

“Why should I?”

Honestly how stupid can this guy get?!

“Put it back in the enclosure first and I’ll explain it to you!” Your breathing is getting heavy, the closer you get to Bakugou the hotter your body feels. You lunge for him again and trip, he hurries to put the beaker on the table behind him and catch you. Put off balance from the position you both crash to the floor with him underneath you. Sighing in frustration you lift yourself up only to bump your head on the table, knocking over the beaker and spilling the extract over you both.

“Shit!” You scramble off of him and run to the door, pressing the exposure button and effectively locking it. You turn to Bakugou and back up trying your best to keep your distance. “Stay on that side of the room, if we’re far enough apart the effects won’t be as bad.”

“What are the effects?” The question is spoken so calmly that you almost convince yourself he didn’t speak at all.

“What are the fucking side effects!?” His shirt is soaked, sticking to his tanned skin. The outline of his chiseled body makes your mouth go dry. You look back at his face, his mouth twisted in frustration at your silence but no less attractive. The sharp angle of his jawline, pink lips slightly chapped, aristocratic nose, scarlet eyes that-

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Shaking your head to clear some of the fog in your brain, you focus on him again.

“It’s an aphrodisiac so obviously it enhances sexual desire.”

“Yeah-yeah, sex pollen I get it. But what else?” he rings out the bottom of his shirt, lifting it slightly and you avert your eyes.

“It is not sex pollen, I don’t even use the pollen of the plant.” the last part coming out in a mumble. “The aphrodisiac only works on people who are consenting adults that are attracted to each other.” You clear your throat.

Bakugou freezes for a moment and looks up at you, examining you. The flushed skin, short breaths, and how you keep as much distance between the two of you as the small lab provides.

“So why are you so far away then?” The smirk on his face is sinful as all hell.

Cheeky bastard.

“Surely I don’t have to spell it out for you.” Resisting the urge to turn your face away from him like a pouty child..

“HA!” The smug look on his face momentarily lifts the cloud of lust and replaces it with anger. “Of course you’re attracted to me, who wouldn’t be?”

“Well, aren't you a cocky bastard?” Hoping you're not about to embarrass yourself you take a chance and muster up some courage. Slowly walking up to him you notice that his forehead is glistening with sweat, his breathing heavy, ears and back of his neck flushed with pink. “Tell me, Katsuki. How are you feeling?”

A few steps and you can see his hands balled up in white knuckled fists, a few more his jaw clench and unclench. Once you are only an arms length away you can see him swallow harshly, Adam's apple bobbing, nostrils flaring. You push your breasts against his toned chest, the light friction causing a moan to escape your mouth, the sound going straight to his cock.

“I’m - I’m fine.” Bakugou clears his throat, the sound of his first name from your lips sweeter than it should be.

“Lookin a little flushed, you feeling hot?”

He doesn’t answer, his attention captured by the closeness of your body, your lips, the tops of your breasts peeking out of the v neck top you’re wearing.. He stops breathing when your tongue flicks out to lick your bottom lip.

“Cat got your tongue?”

On impulse his hands move to rest on your hips, eyes never leaving your lips. “What was the question again?”

“How. Are. You. Feeling.” you walk your fingers up his chest with each word before pulling his head down so you can whisper in his ear, the anger fading fast. “Katsuki.” You hear him growl, the sound reverberating through your core, then you're being picked up.

“I’m gonna ruin you.” Bakugou crashes his lips to yours, pressing you up against one of the walls and bracing you with one hand so that the other can wrap around your throat. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.” He bites your lip, licking it to soothe the hurt. “Smart, funny, sexy, beautiful.”

You whine at the words and grind against the bulge in his pants, your pussy throbbing with need. “Need to feel you touch me Bakugou.” He stops moving and you shift to try and grind against him again but he holds you tight, slightly squeezing the sides of your neck.

“What happened to calling me by my first name, baby girl?” Loosening his hand and crouching down as if to put you down you sputter out “Kat-Katsuki Please touch me.”

The feral grin on his face has your pussy drooling and you all but sigh in relief when he stands up straight and slips a hand under your shirt, cupping one of your breasts. “Oh god yes.”

“You’re so soft baby,” he pulls one of the cups down and rolls your nipple in between his fingers. “Take off your shirt, wanna see those pretty tits.”

Katsuki keeps playing with your nipple when you rip your shirt off, making short work of your bra and tossing it. As soon as the other nipple is in view he dives down to suckle it, his mouth hot. You throw your head back, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pushing your chest out to give him better access.

He is merciless in his teasing, alternating between breasts, making sure to suck each nipple till they are both hard peaks. Kissing the top of your soft globes, your collarbone and neck, everywhere his mouth goes is left with a mark in varying shades of red and purple.

You grow impatient with him, needing to make him feel as good wanting to feel him with your hands, mouth, teeth.

“Wanna feel you too Katsuki.” you whine as he pinches one nipple while nibbling the other one. When you pull on his hair a little he groans but lifts his head, pulling both nipples with him before letting them go.

“What do ya wanna feel, baby girl?”

With all your inhibitions throw out the window you lean down and whisper in his ear. “Wanna feel you fuck me.”

You pull away and he quickly sets you down, you’re about to object when he takes his shirt off in one smooth motion then starts unbuttoning his jeans. You rush to follow, unzipping your pants and pulling them down, before you can pull down your panties he grabs your hand stopping you. “Leave ‘m on.”

Katsuki picks you up again before you can get a good look at his cock, but when it's pressed against you there is no need to see it. “Fuck you’re huge.”

He smirks at you, smug pride in his eyes. “Glad you approve.” Reaching a hand down he pulls your panties to the side and runs his fingers through your wet folds. “This all for me?” bringing his fingers up to show you the slick dripping down them he puts them in his mouth and sucks. “Gonna have to enjoy that tasty treat later.”

Your body is burning up, breathing is heavy as you both watch him drag his cock along your wet slit before pushing in. Your moans echo in the lab and neither one of you cares as Katsuki's cock drags against your inner walls until bottoming out. Right now is not the time for slow strokes, not with the aphrodisiac flowing through both of your bodies, so he starts a pace that has your ass slapping against his thighs.

“C-cumming!” You scream out before your body bows in on itself and you're creaming around his cock.

“Already?” a sideways grin on his face Katsuki starts moving you up and down in time with his thrusts, his cock reaching that much deeper. “Gonna cum for me again? Come on baby, wanna feel you milk my cock.”

Your mind is going blank, the only thing running through it is Katsuki. “Please don’t stop,” you dig your nails into his shoulders. “M Gonna cum again.” His thrusts go shallow and the head of his cock drags against your walls, hitting all the right spots.

You’re repeating his name endlessly, the only word that is in your mind then you’re cumming again. Your legs tense around his waist and your pussy clenches down hard enough that he has to stop moving or risk hurting you. He watches your face contorted in pleasure and starts thrusting as soon as he feels your orgasm subside.

“One more.”

Your head fuzzy, body limp from two orgasms. “I can’t!”

“Wrong,” Katsuki pulls out for a second, setting you on the floor and pushing on your back. You obediently bend forward grabbing the edge of the counter top and he wastes no time in rutting back into you. “You want me to stop?”

“NO”

“Then you got one more beautiful thing.” He sticks two fingers in his mouth, getting them wet then reaches around rubbing soft circles on your puffy clit. His other hand gripping your hip, before moving up and grabbing your shoulder using it as leverage to fuck into you harder.

“Come on, cum for me.”

You turn your head to the side trying your best to look in his eyes, yours tearing up at the overstimulation. “You cum too, fill me up Katsuki.”

“Oh fuck yeah.” Bending his knees he thrusts up into you and with the new angle, teasing circles being rubbed on your clit and the feral moans coming out of his mouth you cum one last time.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck

Katsuki cums after you, rope after rope of cum coating your fluttering walls.

You both stand there catching your breath. Katsuki pulls out and you whimper, “Oh don’t worry beautiful,” he picks you up again, walks over to a chair and sits down with you in his lap “not done with you yet.”

By the time you are spent both of you are exhausted and lost track of how many times either of you came. He helps you stand up, quickly pulling your panties back in place. “Don’t want you leakin.”

You giggle and pick up your clothes from the floor, he helps you get dressed and you both walk to the door. Making sure to check the air quality before leaving the lab you confirm that nothing is left in the air and unlock it. Before opening the door you turn to him opening your mouth to ask a question but he talks first.

“Let's go back to my room, yeah? I’ll help you clean up.” His voice rough from moaning and growling but you can see a small smile on his lips. Even though you know that the effects of the extract have worn off you can’t help but worry that he is still under their influence. Nodding your head you turn away from him again and open the door, walking into the lobby.

“I assume you're finished with the lab?”

You stop dead in your tracks, Katsuki bumping into you. “P-professor Aizawa?” Red hair peeks out behind him and Kirishima looks at you both with a nervous sharp toothed smile and red face. The fog of your memory clears and you vaguely remember hearing knocking on the window and door while you were… indisposed.

Katsuki steps in front of you, from the lack of red on his face or neck you know he isn’t nearly as mortified as you. “How long have you been standing there?”

The tired eyes of your teacher examine both of you. “Long enough.” He sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are both to meet me in my office tomorrow morning.”

And just before you can’t get anymore embarrassed he walks out and says over his shoulder. “The labs aren’t sound proof, and these walls echo.”

@doinmybesthere @patchworkpuzzle @eyebagsbutglam @sugarspiceanddynamight

#bnharem collab #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x reader #bakugo mha #bakugo katsuki #bakugou x you #lilliths masterlist #lillith writes

[xrux]

Bare Minimum ⨾ Hawks ♡

prompt. Lazy, hot summer afternoons where you want to go and do something but at the same time, don't

genre. fluff, suggestive

more info. 500+ words, gn!reader

author’s note. for ji, @ara-mitsue + @heatwave2021! I really debated on doing akaashi or shinso for this but as someone in L-word with hawks, I couldn’t help myself!! ANYWHO I hope you like it (◕‿◕)♡

— bnha masterlist

The afternoon sun fills your shared bedroom through a half-open curtain, illuminating his golden locks. He lies on his stomach, golden eyes softly fixed at your figure like a humble bowerbird staring at his shiny possession. His muscles tense against your palm as you draw soothing strokes across his wing and all that fills the room are both your easy breaths mixed with the faintest white noise.

It’s unusually quiet. Must be that phase of the summer heat entering its peak. It’s not too uncomfortable but he still refuses to wear a shirt. Not that you’re complaining or anything. If it’s not the heat that’s keeping him quiet—and evidently, distracted—it’s probably the loose tank you’re wearing as well as the traces of sweat that trailed the dips of your slightly exposed chest.

It’s probably both the heat and you.

He’s known as the guy who’s a tad bit too fast, and so, days off with Keigo aren’t rare. But there’s something about today feels extra comforting. It sure as hell isn’t the heat alone.

“What’s on your mind, pretty bird?” he asks, cheek leaning against his propped hand. “You’re not bored, are you?”

“Yes and no.” You chuckle, unable to miss how his brows furrowed at your answer. “I am bored but like… the good kind.”

He shoots up, head slightly tilting to the side as his expression turns into a half-kidding scowl. “Huh. Elaborate? And you don’t mean bored of me, do you?” He raises a brow, answer better, he probably thinks.

“A little— no, I’m kidding,” you’re quick to say before he got the chance to reply. “Well, bored as in the ‘it’s hot and I want to do something with you’ kind.

“Never the ‘bored of your company’ kind, baby,” you add.

“Good.” He smirks, relaxing his stance as he returns to his former position. “Well I’m bored too. Bored as in the ‘I love you, I’m bored, let’s be lazy together’ kind.”

It’s embarrassing how it never takes much for him to make your heart flutter. With him, all it takes is a phrase, a small gesture, a look. You couldn't understand what it is about him exactly that made you weak in the knees. He barely ever has to try. He sure as hell knows it, and he prides himself for it.

“And what a coincidence, I’m never bored of you either,” he adds, wearing a soft grin, again with the bare minimum—but still very much potent—attempt to woo you.

“What I had in mind was better but that works too,” you hum as you move closer to him, prompting him to scoot over to his side of the bed. He wraps an arm around your waist as he lets you nestle into his bare chest. A discovery you found some time ago, absolutely nothing compares to the sound of his sleepy voice drumming through his ribcage.

He rubs small circles on your shoulder before tilting your chin up, soft lips meeting yours as he pulls you into an open-mouthed kiss.

At the last second he pulls away, suddenly looking inquisitive. “What did you have in mind?”

“Something to do with the heat.”

“That’s an idea, let’s go with that.”

#!love letters #!hawks #heatwave2021 #hawks #hawks x y/n #hawks x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hawks fluff #bnha fluff #mha fluff #hawks x you #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #mha x you #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami x you #keigo x reader #keigo fluff #takami keigo fluff #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo x you

[senju-sekhmet]

'Hot’ is just a matter of definition

Summary: It felt like any other morning - you surely felt like every other morning - except for a certain kind of warmth. Perhaps some soreness that made your muscles ache? Of course you wouldn't slow down simply for feeling a bit hot - Tobirama strongly disagrees. 5600 words I really wanted to do a funny comfort piece, so this is a little self-indulgent! It sat on my shelf for a while before I was happy with it, smh. Thanks for all the help, @avversiera-writes 🥺 Warnings! Illness, fever talks, and slightly suggestive undertones (SFW though!) Read on AO3!

The first sign should’ve been this awful chill that ran through your bones the moment you opened your eyes. It was an early rise, like usual, but something was different. Blinking slowly, your lazy gaze found the window and the brilliant, red sunrise that was hinted at by how the crimson hues were hitting the buildings you could peek at. 

And unsurprisingly, the man whose arms were wrapped around you, legs intertwined with yours gave a rather disgruntled huff as he registered your movement. Tobirama would fiercely deny being clingy (That’s ridiculous!) but despite the two of you usually falling asleep on each side of the bed (that is, if you went there at the same time or haven’t been down to friskier activities before), he’d  always  find his way around your body during the night somehow to completely enclose it with his. No, he wasn’t just a bit clingy, he was a real cuddler. One time you dared to make a small tease about such being the case, but you were only met with fierce denial, a bright red face and incoherent mumbling (Childish… I do not  cuddle…). It was adorable, really.

Honestly though, you wouldn’t deny loving it, either. To know that in the privacy of your bedroom, one might argue the most private room of a house, he’d become this relaxed was endearing - charming, even - especially considering in public, he was vastly different about physical affection.

Except when you wanted to really rise up; then the complaints started. Unless Tobirama got up before you did, his limbs would tangle yours more and he’d make miffed grunts. All within the time limit the two of you had for the morning, of course.

This morning, though?

You shifted a little bit from your position to lay more on your back, to which Tobirama gave yet another unamused sound. Your muscles ached slightly. Maybe you needed to stretch a bit today. 

“Nnnghn…”, he mumbled, and the arm that was wrapped around your chest to hold your shoulder tightly snuck a little higher to caress your neck.

“Tobi…”, you sweetly began, a whisper. 

“Hm,” came the answer, but this time a lot more conscious - and ponderous. One scarlet eye blinked open and Tobirama’s forehead was worried by fine wrinkles. “Hmmm,” he hummed again, the hand on your neck trailing up even higher, to your cheek.

You chuckled a little bit at the comical embrace he was giving you. “What’s up?”

His other eye opened and out of nowhere - “You’re hot.”

You blinked. “Why, I wasn’t expecting such unabashed, eloquent flattery in the early morning.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly. “Your body temperature is above average. Quite a lot, in fact.” You let your eyebrows tilt up in a rather hurt pout. “That is the least sexy way I’ve ever heard someone say ‘You’re hot’.”

Tobirama gave a low growl then suddenly and you only felt the bed shift - then he was above you, steading himself with an arm on each side of your chest, legs still tangled. If it wasn’t for the deep frown etched into his mien, you’d find this, in fact,  hot  . “That is because I am in no way referring to your looks, Y/n!” Although momentarily - momentarily - his gaze flickered down your body, covered in nothing but a light nightgown.

You raised an eyebrow expectantly. 

His scarlet stare was right back at you, burning in intensity - and yet there was a glint of something in them. “I am, of course, not saying you could not be considered metaphorically ‘hot’,” he began then, his baritone voice low and sultry, clinging to something.  Something that was wiped away in the blink of an eye when it became stern only. “But right now you are also hot  literally.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at him and tell him that has got to be the second worst way of being told you’re hot, but before you could get a word out, the man had plastered his hand on your forehead and you felt his chakra connecting to your network; smoothing over it gently in an inward caress you reciprocate swiftly, tenderly. You’d never grow tired of this. Of course, it lasted only a moment - he intensified the connection to gain a closer look at your body, his presence inside of you growing stronger as he took to examine you briefly in order to ascertain the origin of the ‘hotness’ you chose to flippantly call it.

Except you were not having any of it. “Tobirama, I’m fine, honestly.” Your hand moved to grasp the wrist of his arm to gently remove it from your forehead.

His presence inside you instantly flickered - bristled. “Y/n,” came the prompt, stern answer and you could swear the pressure on your forehead, hips and legs increased slightly.

This was getting ridiculous. “This is absurd. I feel good, so what if I’m  extra hot? Might be getting a cold, there is no need to fuss.”

His eyes flew open again to spare you a furious glare. “For a common cold it’d be very unusual to be burning up as you are,” he began firmly and you had to forcibly bite back on commentary or another eye roll lest his lecture would grow. “Now if you’ll keep your smart mouth closed for a few more moments, I could finish this.”

You jutted your lower jaw forward. “You love my smart mouth.”

His eyebrows rose slowly and for a few seconds, he seemed entirely impassive. Suddenly, you felt his chakra inside of you jolt, zigzagging through your network so abruptly you gasped. It wasn’t unpleasant so much as it was unexpected - and intense. Momentarily his presence within you was so strong, so potent, you felt you could nearly grasp his thoughts and emotions with your own chakra - and yet at the same time, he was so active, so seizing - it felt quite possessive.

“You’re-”, you huffed, ready to retaliate letting your chakra swell to retort.

“Quiet, let me work,” he grunted, closing his eyes again, focusing on the connection you two shared. The smirk in his voice had been unmistakeable, though, as was the slight tilt of the corner of his mouth.

Unfair. He was being unfair. However you weren’t swayed, either. “There’s no need for this. And you need to relax.” Again you felt the connection swell though, much more gentle as he continued the examination and you were given just a low, warning rumble to let him get it done. Only a moment later he gave another disgruntled hum, his scarlet gaze now mustering you now.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Well? Happy now?” you snapped, perfectly miffed. On the one hand the concern was endearing, on the other hand...

His face was scrunched in deep ponder. “I’m unsure. I can’t pinpoint anything for sure, but perhaps there was something about your lungs-”

You felt yourself bristle. “I’m not staying here on some cryptic ‘perhaps’ from my very overprotective husband. May I, now?” Already, you wriggled beneath him to free yourself and get up. Your muscles really did ache a bit - you definitely needed a stretch.

Tobirama’s gaze narrowed again. “I don’t think you should be moving around today, Y/n.”

That did it. Darkly, you articulated every word perfectly clear: “Tobirama, I’m not joking. Move.”

Reluctantly - as you could tell by his stiff body - he shifted to the side to release you. His intense gaze never left you, though you couldn’t spare him more than another roll of your eyes at this point.“This might only be the tip of the iceberg," he warned, you could  hear  the frown in his baritone voice still.

However, you had already gotten up and were standing, staring down at Tobirama with equal sternness. “Or you need to rein it in again.” You shrugged as though that’d ease the soreness in your muscles - it didn’t - and then tilted your head a little. “I feel a bit cold, in fact, so how about that.”

His scarlet eyes widened slightly at that statement. Promptly he scrambled to get out of bed himself. “Y/n-”, he began, downright chastising - but you had already spun around and were heading for the bathroom of your house.

“Enough fussing, dear husband, we have a lot of work to do,” you reminded him in a playful tone. Talking of work was bound to get his focus elsewhere than your imaginary symptoms.

_______

Or so you thought.

Once you finished in the bathroom (admittedly, you did feel a little bit lightheaded) you headed to join him in the living area for a small breakfast (and maybe, just maybe also a bit shaky?). The heady smell of tea hung in the air; you couldn’t help but smile lightly. However the room felt quite cold - had he opened the windows? Tobirama already was sitting cross-legged at the low table, reading documents he had strewn over it last night. When you entered the room, his head snapped up and the scarlet gaze had you pinned, eyes narrowing again.

“Don’t,” you sternly cut him off before he could even say anything like ‘Get back into bed’, shaking your head before sitting down across from him, pouring yourself a cup of tea for yourself.

Tobirama rested his chin on his balled fist. The frown must be etched into his face at this point. “You look pale.” His baritone voice was deceptively smooth.

Your hand clenched around your cup of tea, eyebrows furrowing. “You know, I could say the same about you.”

A single white eyebrow arched up. “Unsurprising, as my complexion is rather pale.” The fine smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth again.

You crossed your arms defensively. A shiver ran down your spine. Since when was the room so cold? “I am very well capable of judging myself to see if I am fit for work. Which I am.”

The smirk faded and he dropped his hand to the table, straightening himself. You had to drag your hand over your face in order to keep yourself from rolling your eyes at him again. As you did so you couldn’t help but notice - your face  did  feel a bit warmer.

“Why are you being so stubborn about this, Y/n?”, Tobirama began, his deep voice stern again. You blinked to find his scarlet eyes staring at you intensely again, his facial features hard as ever. Maybe it was your imagination, but there might have been a tinge of worry to his tone. “I’m not imagining anything. If I had to take a guess, you’re actually not telling me everything.” He tilted his head. “Are you feeling dizzy?”

An exasperated groan escaped your mouth before you could help it, but this time you did roll your eyes. Your hand slapped down on the table. “For the last time, Tobirama - I’m fine. It’s just a little fever - did you open a window or something? It’s so cold in here, I’m shivering.” You ran your palms over your arms, feeling the chill creep into you.

You didn’t think this was possible, but the wrinkles of Tobirama’s frown became even deeper. “I did not, Y/n.” 

You blinked in surprise. “Huh.” As much as you hated to admit it, Tobirama’s fever theory might hold more merit than you wanted to give him credit for. Worse yet, you had to tell him.

Tobirama’s intense stare was wrought with worry at this point, bereft of any of the smugness you might’ve been expecting from him. “Are you ready to believe me now?” he inquired drily, his voice carrying a caustic note.

You sighed and crossed your arms in front of your chest, leaning back slightly. Momentarily you dared to close your eyes - when you did, your eyelids felt weird against your eyes, the ache in your muscles seemed worse - you couldn’t help but sigh. “Maybe.”

Tobirama was rubbing his temples with his thumb and index finger when you were eyeing him again, the fingers of his other palm were drumming impatiently against the table. “A monumental progress, compared to earlier, I’d say,” he commented, still rather drily.

“I’ll just work on what paperwork I’ve left at home, then.”

His palm slammed so swiftly on the table you jolted in shock, concerned for the paper under his cup of tea. Luckily though, he had drunk enough of it already. However his gaze - the scarlet stare was burning from intensity again. He didn’t just look pissed - he was furious. “What is it going to take to make you rest? Lie in bed? Sleep?”

Your mouth hung slightly open at his sudden outburst. Of course, you had guessed he wasn’t  pleased  with your negligence of your symptoms, but this right now seemed rather over the top. “I can… read in bed?”

Tobirama continued to stare as though you had just suggested to strip naked and run through the village.

“It’s just reading, Tobi.”

“What’s so difficult about staying in bed and recovering?” he snapped, perfectly exasperated now. Suddenly he sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, ran a hand through his white, spiky hair and rose to his feet swiftly. “Alright. Let’s get you to bed first.” The tension in his tone was tangible and briefly, you contemplated just… humoring him. For a bit?

He rounded the table to offer you his hand in order to get up, which you gingerly took. With a courageous tug he helped you to your feet - and your vision blackened momentarily. You swayed forward; Tobirama already seized your waist with his free arm pulled you flush against his body to steady you. His deep voice was next to your ear when he spoke; your hand grasped his black shirt for support. “Y/n?”, he was done veiling the concern in his tone with fury.

You shook your head. “Just a brief dizziness.” Already, your vision cleared; though your heart still pounded in your ears. “I’m - I’m okay.”

Tobirama didn’t take time to comment that but rather started guiding you towards your shared bedroom. His frown was etched into his forehead again, his lips a tight line. All the time he’d glance over to you with his sharp glance, but the tension never left the taut muscle of his jaws. His arm remained tight around your waist for the whole way back to bed too; he wasn’t letting go at all. Not that you minded. You did feel a little bit wobbly, and even if it just was to humor him, you wouldn’t take any chances now. Once in the bedroom his grip turned utterly tender; carefully he helped you lie down and pulled the blanket up to your chin. 

You gave a wistful sigh as your sore muscles finally got their rest again and the blanket was warming you. “Maybe… this isn’t such a bad idea, after all,” you mumbled, hopefully quiet enough Tobirama wouldn’t hear you.

He did, of course. With a dry chuckle he was already turning towards the window. “You’d be astonished how many good ideas I have, Y/n,” he quipped, closing the blends of the bedroom to render it a lot darker.

“How am I going to read like this?”, you promptly inquired, propping yourself up on your elbows again to rise in protest.

Tobirama cast a dark glare your way and instantly stalked over to your side again; sitting down on the bedside to push you back down onto the mattress with a certain kind of stern finality that still held a marvellous amount of gentleness to his touch. “You aren’t. Sleep now. I’ll leave you water and tea here and get you your documents later.”

With a sigh and yet another roll of your eyes you allowed him to pull the blanket up again once you were back on your back. “Are you, now.”

Tobirama rose to his feet again and simply regarded you with one quirked up eyebrow. “You are correct. We should wait and see how you are feeling later, actually.”

“You’re impossible. As if you’d be lying in bed just because of a little fever rather than work,” you bit back, perfectly miffed again.

Tobirama was unimpressed, though. “I’m being realistic. And unluckily for you, I’m not the one running a fever. Now, I have to drop off some documents for elder brother and check some other things at the office, then I’ll make sure to stick around,” he announced, but before you had any chance to tell him how truly, utterly, lucky you felt to have him hound your recovery, he was out of the door - which he closed, of course.

He had all but ignored your notion that he, in fact, would never stay in bed.

Well, maybe some sleep really would help you.

________

 Tobirama’s steps were spurred on by the same urgency that he had coaxed you into bed with earlier in the morning. He despised that out of all the days at the Hokage’s office, today seemed to be tedious and slow going. Naturally, everyone around him was subject to his mood, but right now his patience was thinner than usual. As a result, everyone kept out of his way - which was good, because then he’d work quicker - but also bad, because some of these things he couldn’t finish alone. Did he feel bad for snapping at someone for a simple slip up in the inbox? Absolutely not. Order was vital. Or shouting that some instructions for the training regimens at the academy still had not been finished? Please, these things had been due for one day already. 

If everyone just worked a tad faster -

It was futile.

He had to blame himself in part, really - he had been foolish enough to think he’d be done here swiftly and therefore had not left a shadow clone with you. Better yet, sent a shadow clone here to deal with these  menial tasks as he had dubbed them by now.

But that admission of guilt didn’t exactly do anything to improve his mood. Right now, he was standing in front of his elder brother’s broad desk while he was signing off permits for the growing commercial district of the village. Once that was done - Tobirama could finally use his hiraishin seal to get out of here.

That also most likely was the reason he was staring Hashirama down like a hawk, arms crossed in front of his chest, muscles tense. The scarlet glare was dark enough, bystanders might think he’d go for his brother’s throat any time.

Hashirama wasn’t fazed in the slightest, though. Tobirama’s moods have long since stopped to really impress him. Now, he didn’t make a point of being extra slow, but he made sure to keep track of all these things he was supposed to sign.

Even so - “You seem extra sour today, Tobirama.”

“Really? Whatever made you notice, elder brother?”, he answered drily, physically restraining himself from barking at his brother to just keep reading and not talk to him.

Hashirama raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me, or will you keep spewing sarcasm?”

Tobirama rolled his eyes and gazed at the ceiling momentarily - was there any point in delaying proceedings to tell him? But then again, maybe his brother could help. His gaze swept back to Hashirama. “Y/n is sick. I want to get back home quickly.”

Hashirama sat down the paper he’d been holding and furrowed his eyebrows. “Sick? What’s wrong?”

“She’s running a fever. Now, the quicker we finish, the quicker I’ll be back to check on her.” Tobirama’s grip on his arms tightened. While his brother’s concern was charming - it was just delaying his return to you. He was late anyway. What if you were worse off now? Inadvertently his mien darkened a fair deal, and the glare he regarded Hashirama with was nothing short of lethal now.

Hashirama’s concern wasn’t subsiding, either. “Then go. I can finish this alone. If I have any questions, I’ll ask you later. Do you want me to come by in the evening?”

Tobirama blinked. The suggestion was convenient - too convenient for his liking, almost. His duty towards the village came first. Hashirama’s even more so. You, on the other hand…

He pinched the bridge of his nose, clenching his teeth. Why was nothing ever easy? He hated himself for it right now, he didn’t want to say this - no, he wanted to say, ‘Very well, yes, thank you’ - but no. “The village comes first.”

Hashirama sighed - and then smiled. “Very well. Then I order you to get back home.”

Tobirama’s eyes widened slightly. His brother couldn't seriously be ordering him to - but no, actually he could. He opened his mouth to protest - but with a wave of his hand he dismissed himself. He’d take this gift for what it was. “Thank you, elder brother. It would be good if you visited later.”

He simply nodded. “Give Y/n my well wishes.”

Already, the world lurched around Tobirama as he invoked his hiraishin seal in your shared living room. And in the blink of a second, he was standing in it - heading straight for the bedroom. Finally. He should have been here much sooner.

Before he entered, he could hear it - wheezing sounds. Quiet, but laboured breaths from the room you should be resting in. And by the sounds of it, you had been - a miracle. He frowned. Or, a very bad sign. Your adherence to medical orders was almost as bad as Tobirama’s. He quickened his steps, his heartbeat uncomfortably fast now. “Curses,” he muttered under his breath - why, why had he not left a shadow clone with you? 

With more force than intended he slid open the bedroom’s door. You still were in the bed, tucked in - and a fine sheen of sweat glistened on your skin. Your breaths were sounding rattled.

“Y/n,” Tobirama called, chastised almost, as though somehow it was your fault it had gotten this bad. The truth was he was shocked - utterly shocked - and worried. This wasn’t just a fever anymore; he didn’t need to examine you to know his hunch had been correct this morning: Pneumonia.

“Tobi…?”, came your slurred reply, the sheets rustled as you were sitting up.

Instantly he crossed the room to sit down at your side on the bed, his forehead drawn into a deep frown. You were glancing at him through glazed eyes, blinking a few times just before a coughing fit wrecked your entire body.

“M’sorry… Tobi…,” you whimpered after you were suitably recovered.

He had to blink at that. Were you apologizing? “What?” Tobirama’s hands grasped around your upper arms, he shook his head. “Lie down again, alright?” Your skin was scorching now. You whined uneasily again, tilting your head a little. “Y’sounded so mad right now… you were so mad this morning, too…”, you murmured, but you allowed Tobirama to coax you into lying down again, pulling the blanket over you. If the paleness was anything to go by, your blood pressure was low.

This wasn’t looking good.

“I’m - I’m not mad, love,” he churned out as his hand moved to your forehead to assess your condition again. What nonsense-

But before he could place it there, you had seized it with both palms and pressed it to your chest, your eyes comically wide now. “You’re… not mad? But… you were right… I think… I am a little sick, Tobi. Maybe?”

Tobirama couldn’t have prevented the coarse grunt he gave even if he had wanted to. “Not just a little, Y/n.” Gently, he tried to move his hand out of your grasp, but it only served to tighten it around it.

Your gaze was trained on him, and for a moment, you did nothing but stare. Tobirama’s frown deeped - then suddenly, you shook your head so slowly, he wondered if you even registered the movement. “Nah… You’re right… but I’m not  that  sick. You can be so… smug when you’re right…”, you mumbled - no, you …  giggled?

Tobirama’s gaze widened slightly as you spoke. Had you taken any medicine that didn’t agree with you? Was the focus of your infection perhaps not the lung, but the brain? “... Y/n? May I examine you?”

Your lower lip quivered. “Tobi,” you wantonly moaned now. “I don’t… want you to be mad ‘cause I didn’t… believe you, though,” you gave a sigh - at least that’s what Tobirama thought you wanted to do - but it ended in more coughs.

With a cocked eyebrow he continued to observe the theater that unfolded before him, your grip on his hand was steely. At least your strength seemed to be faring well. The same couldn’t be said for your mind.

“You get so… snappy when you’re pissed,” you continued suddenly, your gaze sweeping down to the hand you clutched like a stuffed animal. Your thumbs started caressing it and your lips formed a small pout. “That’s kinda… exhausting… but also funny sometimes, you know? … your sarcasm, mhm…,” you continued, trailing off into more incoherent mumbling.

Tobirama restrained himself from rolling his eyes at your nonsense and simply opted for using his other hand if you weren’t going to relinquish the one you were  cuddling  now. Softly, he placed it on your cheek and closed his eyes. Already, his chakra began to graze over your network -

Except then you  nuzzled  into his touch, throwing off his focus. His eyes flew open. “Y/n,” he reprimanded sternly, “Let me focus for a moment here, alright?”

You hummed contently, though. “You’re always so… focused, Tobi… Super focused...”

Tobirama really fought to say his next words in the nicest way possible - “Y/n, you aren’t just hot right now, you are burning up, please let me-”

You giggled then suddenly, your face turning so the tip of your nose would brush over his palm. “You said it again.”

Tobirama huffed exasperatedly. “What?”

“I’m hot. You said I’m hot.” More giggles followed - which were interrupted by another coughing fit of yours. Surprisingly, you had the decorum to turn your face to the side Tobirama’s hand wasn’t facing.

However, Tobirama’s patience was running seriously thin - and the last thing he wanted to do was snapping at you of all people. Not to mention in your current state, you probably would not take it well. He didn’t think he could stomach you crying on top of all this.

But then you were nuzzling into his hand again as your hands kept coddling his other to your chest and Tobirama seriously wondered if there was no way to just… gently knock you off whatever trip you were on.

“Y/n,” he began sternly, “You’re seriously ill. I need to examine you now, alright? Will you please let me do that? And stop doing… that?”, he tried to keep his voice even, calm - pleading - but what came out was annoyed.

Your eyes widened instantly. “T-Tobi,” you stuttered, “I’m… s-sorry… you don’t think I’m hot…?”, you asked, as if that was the most important thing in the world right now.

With those doe eyes you were giving him, Tobirama was sure you were convinced it was.

He gritted his teeth.

His dignity didn't want to do this. His logic considered this a stellar idea, though. 

“My love, you are the single, hottest being in the world. Nothing, not even a volcano, compares to your hotness. I see you, I feel you, and every time I’m in awe because of said hotness. I’d never, ever question just how hot you are,” he retorted instantly, with ground teeth, comically tilted up eyebrows and sheer desperation made him fall in line with your utter nonsense if this was what it took to make this work, somehow. 

It did the trick. Your eyes lit up as though he’d just recited a love poem he’d carefully written, no, crafted just for you - in fact, he was surprised you weren’t reaching up to try and kiss him or something like that. Tobirama on the other hand was proud he hadn’t choked on the sheer idiocy he had just uttered.

“Tobirama,” you sobbed happily, grinning broadly. “I knew you do think so…”, you continued, nodding fiercely, “You sometimes give me these… stares… and when we-”

Tobirama’s eyes flew wide open. “Y/n?”

You stopped mid-sentence, your mouth open, eyes wide. “Yes?”

“Can my very hot wife keep still for a moment?”, he inquired, mustering all the pitiful shreds of his patience - and pride - that were left to make his baritone voice sugar-sweet.

Luckily, it worked. You smiled broadly and nodded before stilling completely.

Finally. His hand rested on your cheek more firmly now and once more he closed his eyes. Usually he’d let his chakra caress yours first, but right now he was convinced that’d just do all kinds of  funny  things to you, and before this could get any more embarrassing, he increasing the connection right away to begin examining you. His chakra pelted your network as the workings of your body were revealed to his inner eye: what had been subtle, and easy to miss this morning was a roaring fire now. Undoubtedly the source of your ‘hotness’ - your left lung’s upper lobe was ridden with infection. The whole area was stuffed with mucus. Your heart beat with an elevated frequency, and your blood pressure had dropped.

Surprisingly your brain showed no abnormality at all. It must be the fever talking, literally.

Providing serious medical support in cases of infection went beyond his combat medicine skills. All he could do was support your lung a little by clearing the alveoles a bit - letting his chakra chop away at the stuffed airways that were supposed to be free. Tedious, straining work that wouldn’t help permanently unless the root of the problem was tackled effectively, but it should make breathing easier and lower the burden of infection. 

You on the other hand were making satisfied hums that barely reached his ears as he was sunken in his concentration, entirely wrapped up in the microscopic surgery he was performing, basically.

When he was finished - rather, when the labyrinth of your lungs’ smallest airways was beginning to drive him insane for how his chakra always seeped into yet another corner that was ridden with disease - he retreated.

By the time he opened his eyes, you were sleeping soundly - a fact he was thankful for. He needed to organise some antibiotic medicine for you, and somehow he had a distinct notion you wouldn’t take well to him leaving.

 ________

 Luckily, medicine was easily available as was his brother’s aid - Hashirama came swiftly when a shadow clone of Tobirama’s informed him of your state. With his brother’s medical jutsu and the medicine, your recovery was fast. Around evening, your fever had gone down substantially.

By the next morning, the fever’s haze had cleared. Tobirama was sitting on the edge of the bed with a scroll in his lap as you were blinking slowly at him, wiping sleep out of your eyes. You felt uncomfortably warm - too warm. With a sweep of your arm, the pushed the blanket aside.

Tobirama looked up and his scarlet eyes mustered you intently. He raised an eyebrow, but the smirk that was plastered on his lips was reaching his glance. “How’s your hotness feeling?”

You rolled your eyes and groaned. “Too hot.”

The smirk became a sly grin as he bit back on laughter. You could tell by the way the corners of his mouth wrinkled. Already, he began to sit up, setting his scroll aside. “To think such a thing was possible - I’m in  awe,” he supplied ironically, heading for the door.

Your eyebrows shot up. Time to strike back - it was one thing to quip about your silly remarks during your high fever, but he'd get his share, too. "And to think I made the very eloquent Tobirama Senju say things like not even a volcano compares to my hotness." The smirk on your lips grew as you watched the blood rush to your husbands cheeks.

It did the job. Instantly, his jaw was taut. "Y/n you are well aware I only said so because-"

"Everyday you are in awe because of my  hotness. How  lewd, Tobi," you continued, licking your lips.

He balled his fists, his expression darkened. "You were seriously ill and all you were concerned with was cuddling my hand and being complimented on your looks." Slowly, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his own smirk returning to his lips as he raised one eyebrow. "What does that say about your priorities?"

You turn up your palms and grinned boldly. "I'd say my priorities are damn fine. Just like my looks, as you testified," you winked and raised your hand to blow over a kiss at Tobirama. 

Who caught it, entirely unfazed. The fine eyebrow arched even higher. "I'm glad at least one of us is thinking of the important things then," his tone was perfectly sarcastic now. He turned to leave again. "I'll still see what I can do to tame that incredible amount of hotness."

You whistled to call him back quickly. "Can't you come and lie here, use your calm and cool body for that?"

His head tilted to give you a glance from the side again, an eyebrow rising slowly. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

You flashed a grin. "I'd love it."

For a moment, Tobirama was silent. A fine, sly grin spread over his lips as he dipped his head towards you - his baritone voice soft. "Well, too bad for you. A couple of wet towels will do a lot better to lower your temperature than my body, which, by the way, is just a few degrees less, ah, hot than yours." With a wink of his own he was out of the bedroom’s door.

With a dissatisfied grunt, you slumped back into the bed.

Did he just call himself hot?

#tobirama #tobirama senju #tobirama x reader #tobirama senju x reader #sekhmet writes

[k7l4d4]

Danny Phantom AU: ParaNormal

Hello all, I am a huge fan of Danny Phantom, but I often found myself disappointed with how underutilized certain characters and aspects of the show were before its conclusion. This AU is based on how Clockwork, the ghost in charge of overseeing time and the future, witnessing the formation of a NEW Timeline Parallel to the main. Everybody clap your hands!!

The basic premise is based on this: What if the Fentons had support for their research, like a proper laboratory? This is essentially based on the thought that the Fentons managed to publish and profitize some of the side-benefits of their research, such as Ectoplasm powered gear and weaponry, specifically the viability of Ectoplasm as a fuel source itself! After getting this revolution out there, the Fentons managed to reel in some support for their research, even partnering with a few groups in order to conduct more tests than was feasible prior. Let’s be honest here, in canon they were basically operating off of a shoe-string budget and their own ingenuity for their inventions, along with whatever devices they could repurpose to make more.

However, all that success comes at a cost, particularly when it attracts enemies. During a tour of their main lab building by the local elementary school, with support and supervision from local parents and industries, a disgruntled employee decides to cause some trouble after he’s fired for his conduct on the job. He destabilizes the prototype portal, while a young Danny, Sam, and Tucker, all of whom had snuck away from the class for their own reasons, are in the room. The resulting explosion changes everything.

Danny, Sam, and Tucker disappeared that day, presumed dead. The explosion devastated the town, random portals and specters appearing on an almost daily basis. Life as Amity Park had known it was irrevocably altered. A prominent side effect of the explosion was the emergence of Half-sides, people who had been exposed so deeply to ectoplasm that they had become essentially part ghost, though not to the extent that Danny was in Canon. I’ll detail some of the prominent ones below.

Paulina Sanchez: Half-sides typically are regarded with a mix of suspicious caution at best, paranoiac fear at worst. For emergent Social Butterfly Paulina, this essentially crippled her. Paulina has always been lethally self-conscious, particularly about her worth, often seeing herself as nothing without her beauty, the one thing that people outside of her family seemed to care about in regards to her; she wasn’t athletic, she wasn’t a very good student (at the time), she was just the pretty face on the playground. When she became a Half-side, all of that went away. While still extremely self-conscious, Paulina is more comfortable in her own skin, and genuinely kind to others, though she certainly has a vindictive side to those who cross her. Paulina’s primary ability is the ability to travel through mirrors, as well as communicate through them, and store things in them. It’s rare to see her without at least one form of mirror on hand. Paulina is also something of the local conspiracy theorist, albeit one who’s usually right; her ability to spy on others through whatever reasonably reflective surface is nearby aids in this immensely.

Star: While many often confuse her ditzy attitude with genuine unintelligence, Star is sharp as a tack, easily the smartest kid in her generation. She just rarely cares enough to show it, preferring to live life without the extreme expectations of the exceptional burdening her. Star is Paulina’s oldest friend, some have even speculated they might be more, and is always willing to stick up for her when she gets grief for being a Half-side. Star herself possesses an unusual power, in that she can capture past and future events of anyone she takes a picture of. Star is never seen without some form of Image Capturing device, often carting a Polaroid Camera around her neck. She’s occasionally wondered how her powers would interact with film and video, but she so far hasn’t tested it.

Dash Baxter: Once having a future as a promising Athlete, the emergence of his Half-side powers sealed his chances at a successful future. Dash gains in strength, speed, and endurance proportional to his stress or aggression, entering a complete berserker state when sufficiently enraged. The sheer chaos he’s caused in the throws of his anger, as well as the slew of ruined property and broken objects whenever his strength flared up has turned him into a lonely outcast that no one is willing to tolerate being around bar his small circle of friends. Dash occasionally tries to bluster and act like a tough guy, but his isolation has ruined his self-confidence, leaving him starved for interpersonal contact and validation; you could literally just tell him good job, being a random person on the street, and he’ll act like he won the lottery.

Kwan: An all-around nice guy, Kwan has served as the peacekeeper among his peers for years, even as his parents worried about his behavior taking a turn for the worse if he strayed into the wrong crowd. Kwan is a sweetheart, regularly volunteering at local shelters and charities, as well as soup kitchens, he’s single-handedly done more for the reputation of Half-sides than anyone else. Kwan’s power can essentially be summed up as weaponized Empathy; anyone he comes into direct physical contact with feels the accumulated emotions of everyone their actions have negatively impacted from the perspective of said victims. His abilities are so potent that, during an incident in Middle School, when he attempted to stop a man from assaulting a woman, his mere touch sent the man into screaming hysterics as the sheer amount of pain and suffering he had inflicted to others hit him all at once, literally driving him mad. As a result, Kwan always wears a pair of gloves. ALWAYS.

Well, here’s the basic idea. Let me know what you all think!

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #paulina sanchez #dash baxter #star danny phantom #kwan danny phantom

[maddiviner]

What the fuck is twilight language? Is it sappy vampires?

Hi, and thanks for writing to me. Twilight language has nothing to do with sparkly vampires, I assure you! It’s an interesting topic! It’s difficult to find information about it online, though..

You tend to see the twilight language concept discussed in Fortean writings. The term Fortean refers to research into cryptids, UFO, and other such topics.

There’s some overlap between Forteana and the wider occult community, though. Concepts like twilight language straddle the line between Forteana and the occult.

Above, you can see a snippet of Joshua Cutchin’s book (Thieves in the Night) about supernatural abductions. In it, he discusses twilight language Fortean researchers like Cutchin use the phrase to refer to bizarre language-based synchronicities. These happen with unusual frequency once you start investigating strange things!

For example, my (married) last name is Bajsicka. This relates to the Polish word “Bajka” which means story. Some people venture that the name Bajsicka itself might mean “storyteller.”

I myself have always done a lot of storytelling, in RPG-related and oral formats. I didn’t pick my husband because of his last name, though. Some would say that it’s a mere coincidence that I (somewhat) embody the meaning of my last name.

When viewed through the lens of twilight language, though, it’s more akin to a synchronicity. Language and names hint at connections that might not otherwise be obvious.

Some Fortean researchers believe that they glean potent information from these synchronicities. The general idea is that true coincidences are rare. Such researchers believe words have symbolism that connects them to related concepts

If you’re involved in the occult community recently, you might know about the “11:11” clock phenomenon. In that concept, one interprets repeating numbers in daily life as synchronous messages.

Some consider this kind of synchronicity a message from God or the universe itself.

Twilight language functions much like to this. Instead of repeating numbers, one looks for repeating names, words, and phrases. .

If you ever took an Advanced Placement English class in high school, this will be familiar to you. It may also remind you of college literature classes.

You know how English teachers are always going wild over the symbolism in books?

As an example, if you’re studying Catcher in the Rye`, one might assign significance to Holden Caulfield’s name. A “caul” refers to the membrane surrounding a babe after birth. Thus, “Hold-on Caul(field)” implies the character wants to remain a newborn and not grow up.

Twilight language works exactly like this. Rather than analyzing novels through that lens, it focuses on the real world. It supposes that the universe (or God, or... etc) creates reality with a certain amount of symbolism, much like an author writing a book.

Now, some Fortean authors take this concept a step further. Some don’t believe that “twilight language” consists of organic synchronicities.

Instead, they argue that there are powerful human groups that work behind the scenes. They believe the Illuminati reveals their agenda via twilight language in popular culture.

I myself don’t believe that. I’ve never been one for conspiracy theories. I’m skeptical of the Illuminati or deep state or whatever. I see twilight language as a symptom of reality’s interconnection. They occur independent of human design.

One more thing, though. The phrase twilight language has a specific meaning within Buddhism, too. I am not a Buddhist, nor part of that culture, so I can’t speak about it. I hope someone who does know will chime in on this article. I do know that the Buddhist idea of twilight language has very little to do with the Fortean version.

I hope this clears up the issue, at least somewhat. Twilight language remains controversial even inside Fortean (and occult) communities. I’ll admit that it’s one of the weirder things I’ve studied (and that’s saying a lot). I take it with a grain of salt. Still, the connections you’ll see when you first become aware of this kind of thing can be startling.

#occult #witchblr #witch #magic #cryptid #aliens #alien #twilight language #eliza.txt #Fortean #Forteana

[emerald-amidst-gold]

I'm not immune to the fluff 💖

Hand-holding 32. not really paying attention, both doing something else, but still holding hands Touching 22. falling asleep on the other’s shoulder

AWWW YES! My fluff trap has worked! >:D

Some drabbles! Just for you, friend! <3

Their relationship was confusing for some. Well, most, if Fane was being honest, but he didn't really care what anyone else thought. Not many relationships in this day and age held a candle to what he and Solas had fostered, and that wasn't the fault of those who didn't understand. It was how the world was, and their relationship was complexity incarnate, so confusion was a typical reaction.

And many, many people didn't understand the concept of intimacy in sheer presence. Not all love was shown through acts of intercourse or raw carnal desire. Sometimes, it was as simple as an open palm and a small smile as two hands became as interlocked as a masterwork lock. Even better was when neither party thought of combining tumblers, the act instinctual, the purpose wanted in thought.

And that was very much what depicted their acts of intimacy.

"If I get one more letter from Halamshiral talking about my eyes, I will seriously gouge them out.", Fane growled as said eyes flitted across a piece of parchment; a letter in the most refined and disgusting filigree he had ever seen. He didn't get paid enough for this job.

"I would advise against self mutilation, vhenan.", Solas quipped from beside him, the two of them situated side by side as the mage's desk in the rotunda. His sky was currently reading his own text, but from the view of a small smirk and lax expression, it was far more calming than what Fane was currently having to deal with.

"Just try and stop me.", Fane said with a sneer before flicking the letter away unceremoniously, sighing. "What time is it, anyhow?" It felt late and he knew that because of how his marked hand felt numb and heavier than a dead weight, but also...warm?

"I am unsure.", Solas responded, throwing off his confusion from gentle heat. "The candle is worn down to about half, so I would hazard a guess and say close to midnight." The assessment even, concise, even as the voice that sounded them held the desire to sleep in its lilt.

Fane blinked. "Midnight?", he balked, the mage only letting out a hum in affirmation. "By anything that's holy, Solas, why didn't you--", he went to raise his left hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation, but found that it was...heavy? And again, warm? "What the..? Why are we holding hands?", the question slow as his gaze shot straight down to their loosely joined hands and then back up and then back down.

When had they interlocked?

Solas let out an airy chuckle, his head lulling to the side, eyes picking up from his book to give him a look that said, 'Truly?' before the hand adjoined to his own gave a light squeeze.

"Truthfully, I don't know the answer to that question.", Solas admitted, looking down at their joined hands, too with a small smile. "Perhaps it was merely instinctive. I find myself reaching for you without thinking.", more admittance falling like the freshest rain upon a warm brick.

"Do you now?", Fane teased as he looked back up to gaze into the only sky he would ever know from now until the end. Solas hummed, lifting his head back up, the same small smile still in place.

"I do.", he said without hesitation before something akin to shame flashed into blue and grey, blessed warmth beginning to unravel with his slightly larger appendage. "But I can stop if you--"

Fane shook his head, cutting Solas off. "Don't start with that.", he admonished, pulling the retreating hand back to entwine them tighter together before picking up the next letter in his small pile. "You can hold it for as long as you want, my sky.", he said before shifting his gaze away from slightly wide orbs. "...And you're not the only one who finds themselves reaching out. You beckon for the dragon above to land, and I yearn to draw the sky near. So, don't worry about making me uncomfortable because I'm anything but that."

Heat blazed across his cheeks as the words left his mouth, intensely screwing his eyes on the letter in his free hand, but not retaining any of the words. Damn it all! Why did he always get so flustered?! He was just saying the normal shit he always did! So, why did it--!

"Thank you, my dragon.", the words of gratitude sounding like a literal prayer as the voice that uttered them dropped to a reverent whisper, the hand around his reinforcing its grip around his own like molten silverite. "Thank you.."

Fane huffed out an amused breath of air, giving his molten encasing a reciprocating squeeze, further solidifying the bond between them.

"No, thank you. For everything."

****

The Emprise du Lion was cold, that much was a given, but wasn't so bad for Fane. Two layers of fur was more than enough to keep him comfortably warm. Anymore than that and he would melt, his inner core still inherently the same as the one he had possessed as a dragon.

However, others were far less fortunate. Namely, a creature, that for all intents and purposes, should have insulated fur of their own.

"Cold?", Fane asked plainly as he meandered his way over to where Solas was sitting on the log by the fire of the Inquisition's latest reclaimed camp, face calm, but a light shudder through strong, but slender shoulders betrayed the true state of his sky.

"Not terribly.", Solas responded easily, but subtly tried to shift his furs around so as not to make Fane aware. Sadly, keen observational skills and a pinpointing nature were his aces in this particular deck of veiled strength.

"You're cold.", Fane stated matter of fact, stretching one long leg over the log to plop down next to his sky, chuckling a bit when a lightly shivering form instinctively leaned into his own, seeking warmth. "How you think you can hide shit from me is a mystery."

Solas chuckled, actively resting his head against one of his fur pauldrons with a quiet, but content sigh. Fane only rolled his eyes, smirking. For an elf that prided himself on keeping a poised and reserved demeanor, he sure did crumble when around him. Though, that was exactly what Fane sought every time he and Solas managed to get some time alone.

"Old habits are hard to kill, ma'isenatha. Ir abelas.", Solas murmured from where he was nestled on his shoulder, the sun setting in sky-like orbs as they shut, blocking out the orange glow from the fire before them. "It is simply more frigid than I expected."

"I imagine for you, it is.", Fane murmured back, rolling his head to the side to rest it against the top of Solas', who let out another, more tired sigh in response. "Tired, too?" It was a foolish question, he knew, but he was trying to use his voice more. Even if to state the obvious.

Solas nodded a bit. "The red lyrium is especially potent here. It makes it hard to concentrate, thus I expend more energy pulling magic through the Veil.", he explained, no longer shivering form coming closer to where their knees were touching. Fane didn't even flinch, the layers of his armor and cloak making his scars blessedly numb.

"Then sleep.", Fane ordered softly, lightly nuzzling his cheek against the mage's head. "I've been asking a lot of you these last two months, so rest. I'll take first watch." He wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon, anyways. The red lyrium was causing him issues as well. Murmurs in the back of his mind, and echoes of blackness with crimson lights in the distance making it hard to keep his rage in check.

"No, that is unfair on--", Solas began to protest, as per usual, but Fane silenced him with a growl and with a jerk of his arm, fluttering out his cloak to wrap it around his stubborn wolf. The reaction was instantaneous as the mage practically melted into his side with a truly exhausted sigh.

"Go to sleep, you old fool.", Fane said, leaning down a bit to lay a light kiss to a lax temple. "I'm fine. The cold doesn't bother me, and neither does less than two hours of sleep. So, relax and dream." Solas needed the rest more than he did, and he would grant him that.

The mage sighed. "I do wish you would stop calling me that.", the words slurred with approaching sleep, but still held gentle teasing in silk.

Fane shrugged, lightly so as not to jostle Solas too much. "I state what I know.", he said. "And you're old."

"You are older than I.", his sky replied, inching closer and closer to the Fade as his form leaned into him more, the cheek buried in his fur going lax as usually calm breathing slowed even more. Fane smiled a bit at that, bringing his emerald cloak in more to shield his wolf from soft gusts of chilly air.

"Only by about two thousand years. Give or take.", he quipped quietly before laying another soft kiss to Solas' temple. "Now, shut up for once, and sleep. You can glare and raise your eyebrow at me later." Solas only let out a noncommittal hum at his words before Fane saw his face go completely lax, sleep wrapping around a tenacious mind like how his cloak was his physical body.

Fane smile a bit more. "Sleep well, my sky.", he whispered in a voice he only reserved for the one of utmost devotion. "Ar lath ma.", unusual Elvhen rolling from his tongue as he repositioned his head to lightly rest it against the top of Solas' again.

And sadly, he missed the tender smile that rarely graced a stoic face, his words reaching far past the boundaries of the Veil, the Fade, and perhaps, even the Void. The sky would rest in the wings of a dragon. No matter where their mind would take them for their heart, their soul, knew what the mind sometimes did not.

#drabbles! #why do i write so easily like this?! #it comes so easily when i do it through asks! AHH! #i give you two because i had two ideas! X3 #thank you so much! this was a ton of fun! <3 #solavellan #solas #oc: fane lavellan #dragon age #these two give me so much life #take that canon! >:D #my writing #writing #asks

[blackwaxidol]

i in my body and in a manner of speaking, we, took something strong enough to see dragons and forget reality and in a frenzied moment in the shower all of us greeted her, whatever had become the body of which we left for a moment. she is a shy girl, but for a moment she puts on a stupid smile and continues to dance in her shower and then argue with towel placements from something else. i go elsewhere. and in 30 minutes i return to compel her to rest on the bathroom floor so she vomits in the toilet bowl and nowhere else. and i leave. we were the only two responsive, now it is just her. i leave until she makes a frenzied mess of herself on a draft asking where i am because i left. she closes the draft to get up and retrieve the earrings i intended to have because i want her to get those earrings and as i sit on this bed with my earrings in i wonder which part of the monotony and precision of threading metal through flesh brougt me forth. i had seen a name i recognised in words on a notifications upon here but i forget how this contributes. i am sure it does.

i cannot remember what happened today, was it my mother and me who talked back and forth on someone being trapped? or did i talk of it in some forgettable corner of the mind? my vision is doubling and i am sure my mother will find my lack of restlessness infuriating. i am still sad i think. but i feel very distant. clinically so. i did not know ambien could affect dissociative disorder, we did our best to try correcting the bathroom but the one from the shower tells me about the fight she had with an "Aleks" because he wanted to wash a foot individually and i felt his shame when he could not do it so i understand this event but never remember an Aleks before. i dont know these people and i dont want them there.

i want my friends but i am an anxious creature in spirit. at least i believe i have control again. i would just like to be treated wirh kindness or something, there is something i forgot that i hate and when i try to focus on what it is i forget it. ah... there was a question i wanted to answer with yes but i did not know how so i put it to the side in fear of honesty. nothing really is fine. i am disappointed in myself for losing hours of sleep to this nonsense i am disappointed in myself for losing days of interaction because i am terrified of it and i am disappointed with myself for wasting a very potent sleeping pill and i hope i do not make my mother sad because of it. i miss things. a few days ago i disappeared because i got anxious and then suddenly even more anxious. the first made me nauseous and scared and the second one made me cry so i ran off and my organs already hurt. i tried expressing what i felt in that time but i deleted the draft because it made me feel even worse. neuropathy and brain fog come in and i decide to just leave.

i forget the days, i come back one evening to read something that makes me feel a terrible sense of anger and betrayal and upset and after i am done being angry i simply begin crying my eyes out until i stop doing that. i forget everything else until now. i write many things in my notes. i realise they will likely not see the light of posting ever. i write more things in my notes. i realise it is all truly worthless. i sit i remember some things and i feel rage again and the need to defend myself because i am dreadfully afraid of being misinterpreted. i then feel fear because i wonder how many things are looked at and never let known to me. i sit here writing this and i'm having the most unusual tremours and then i begin crying.

all worn off now... i come here to say that i think it would be nice to be asked if i was okay. but the words themselves are enough to make me want to throw myself from a river. how can i respond but "fine"? it is impossible to use other words the scaffolding of my existence is to never inconvenience with emotion because the concept of being a human with feeling that is allowed to be upset at or towards or aimlessly so is completely unthinkable. i do not have the energy to do anything but cry and struggle to say things such as "i find the use of the verbalised actions to relay intent disingenuous and upsetting and i don't know how else to say this i just wish i could be talked to" it HURTS all of it HURTS. i HAVE to be fine because across all channels my clearer memories are that of being scorned for wanting any to express any kind of feeling and then being discarded for it. i can't do it! i can't be a person! there is... i write this in different lenses, one that has carefully and monotonously prepared words for itself to say and one that is purely emotional.

sometimes i do not have the... emotion or empathy inside me the human feeling to look or read something and respond to it. i see absolutely nothing i scan the words i see the image my mind is blank. and that blankness upsets me so deeply that i must run away and mourn the loss the selfishness i feel others find of me. i do not want to be selfish it hurts me the thought of it. but i cannot will myself to speak words i have no joy to speak and when i force myself to i think it is obvious it is forced. the enthusiasm shown is syllogistic to a robot waving hello. you know it is just doing it because it is told the human shape wants this response, but it feels no joy in doing so. i feel nothing i have days where i feel nothing.

and it culminates, i do not have the energy for the interaction either. i think perhaps i could look at it. but then i must indicate i have seen it with a like because this is an action i partake in and enjoy when it is shown to me. and if i like something so well thought and grand then it is only correct that i too make a response. but i feel nothing. and if i feel nothing i have nothing to say nothing to contribute no way to be a person. and i sit there and the feeling i do encounter is one of deep anxiety and worry and upset. every day that passes means i miss more opportunity and sometimes i am brave to attempt a few explorations of posts but can go no further and then i feel terrible again. i am upset again but i don't want to cry anymore i have done it too much today. it is 7:30. i wanted to sleep by 4 and at 4 i wanted to sleep by 2. earlier i felt more angry. i have such moments. i took the pill and thought "i hope it kills me" in a sense that is not suicidal but vengeful. i do not want to be vengeful. what would be the point? another voice points out that to die is to go ignored further and it agitates me. i do not wish to be transactory i want human interaction and i think perhaps i am so incompatible or broken that it is better to simply be left to rot and it breaks me. i cannot do this! i cannot do any of this!

the... whatever it is, it wants me to finish my piece so it can attempt to deliver the words it wanted. i let it now. whatever. goodnight.

#viktor.txt

[septembercfawkes]

Vulnerable Vibes vs. God Mode

As you probably all know by now, I do a lot of editing. I also do a lot of writing. Every once in a while I find myself looking at a story where the protagonist is overly sensitive and vulnerable for most of the time. On the other hand, I also sometimes find myself looking at a story where the protagonist is too . . . well . . . powerful or maybe even invincible too much of the time. But often, the best protagonists and stories show some of both. And I would surmise that by tapping into both, you can write a more powerful story, because as I've talked about before, it's not hitting the same concept over and over that makes a story more emotionally powerful, it's hitting it and its contrast. It's crossing opposites that makes a story more powerful. Sameness can actually dull the impact. While I try to avoid gender stereotypes, I will say from my experience, that GENERALLY speaking, if a protagonist is too sensitive and vulnerable too much of the time (and often needs help and rescuing to boot), it's usually written by a female (and just so you know, I've been guilty of this as a lady). And that GENERALLY speaking, if a protagonist is too powerful and invincible too much of the time, it's usually written by a male. However, most stories I look at are rather well balanced.

So why am I talking about this today?

Well, because even if you aren't in the extreme, I believe any writer can benefit from being aware of the two extremes and learning how to utilize each end of the spectrum. Ideally, we should be seeing your protagonist be both vulnerable and powerful. While there are some particular points where this is most effective (which I'll get to), it's usually a good idea to have some of this throughout: the beginning, the middle, and the end. And in a lot of stories, each aspect may become more . . . potent, as the story progresses. So in a sense, the character may face more, stronger vulnerable moments as the story progresses, and simultaneously more powerful moments as the story progresses . . . possibly (you know how it is with writing 😉) In the Beginning

In the beginning of a story, it can be helpful to identify one thing that causes your protagonist pain or one thing that he or she regrets. This lets the audience know this person isn't perfect--they're vulnerable. It also helps raise sympathy for him or her.

Likewise, it's often a good idea to introduce one thing that the protagonist is especially good at--like a special skill or ability. In fact, these two components may even be tied together somehow. Perhaps she has a magical talent that she's really good at but that also brings her pain. In the Middle As the story progresses, your protagonist will face new challenges and have to make new decisions. This should include moments of risk and vulnerability as well as moments that demonstrate skill, competence, and growth.   These may not always be tied to the exact same things as what was in the opening (but typically they at least connect together, cause I mean . . . it's an ongoing story 🙃)

In the End Structurally speaking, each of these sides of the protagonist will hit hardest near the end. Usually, at the end of the middle or the beginning of the end (depending on how you prefer to slice and dice stories), during what some may call The Ordeal, All is Lost/Dark Night of the Soul, or Plot Point 2, the protagonist hits a critically vulnerable moment. This is often his or her lowest low, where it feels like everything is lost. This can be a great moment to tap into and render how your protagonist is vulnerable.

Even with protagonists who may appear indestructible, there is usually a moment where they are stuck, tied up, tortured, at the mercy of the villain, must rely and depend on someone else, or must seek help, or healing . . . or at minimum, it seems their goal is now out of their reach. It's a great moment to lay on the vulnerable vibes.

Soon after this (or because of this), or near the end, the protagonist will become empowered in a way he or she wasn't before. This may be literal--like literally becoming stronger--but it can be a number of things. He or she may acquire new knowledge, a new skill, a new object, a new perspective, a new love, and enter what I like to think of as "God Mode"--not just because it's fun, but because in many old myths, this was often the point where the protagonist actually became a god. Over time, that happens less often, and instead it's more likely the protagonist will somehow become more godlike, because they have become more empowered. This is when it is great to see the protagonist at his or her strongest, where the story serves well to highlight the hero's special abilities and skills. Sometimes, like say in a superhero movie, God Mode will be obvious. But for other characters, it may be more subtle, such as magically burning the antagonist into blisters when you are an 11-year-old wizard, or solving a legal case as a Harvard student, or being able to confess you love someone and get that long-awaited kiss, or simply, surviving death from a monster.

Through the climax there will be moments of each aspect, but these are two moments where it's typically very effective to hit each end of the spectrum, hard. Exceptions

Like all writing rules, such guidelines can be bent or broken, and you will find exceptions.

It's not unusual for a protagonist to lean a certain way. You may have a protagonist that starts off already very skilled and powerful, like BBC's Sherlock.

Or you may have a protagonist that starts off very vulnerable, like Harry Potter. But in each case, the audience is still exposed to Sherlock's weaknesses and Harry's powers, even if neither protagonist is fully aware of them at the time. Because of the nature of plotting and genre, some characters will lean more one way than the other through much of the story, such as 007 vs. Bella Swan (if I'm allowed to say that).

But even 007 will have moments where he is at the mercy of antagonists and even Bella will have circumstances where she wields the most power. Consider Costs

Often the vulnerable moments are more powerful when the heartache or pain comes as a cost to the protagonist's journey. Sad things happening to him or her is one thing, but having to endure them in an effort to reach a goal is more effective. This also means that to some extent, the protagonist bears responsibility for whatever difficulty they are facing. Likewise, God Mode is usually more satisfying and cooler when it is earned--when the hero has to do something to obtain it. It's like a reward for whatever effort they put in, whether that's working out, learning magic, putting in study hours, saving money through a job, scouring for years for the love of their life--whatever. These costs can come from the backstory, but there should be additional costs along the journey. So if you start with a protagonist who is already very empowered, it's usually more satisfying and likable if we learn that she had to make a bunch of sacrifices to get to that point. However, perhaps the story is about how she's been handed everything by her parents on a silver platter and she's about to have a wake-up call. That's fine too, just a different effect. And a different story.

So, make sure to be aware that you hit both sides of the spectrum, that you don't get stuck on one side for too long, and that you consider how to write each effectively.

#writing tips #writing tips and tricks #writing reference #writing help #writeblr #fanfic #writing advice

[thegirl20]

Witcher Femslash February - Decay

Prompt from @bamf-jaskier’s list.

Also on AO3.

When Tissaia does not return to their apartments after her meeting, Yennefer grows bored and goes to find her. She's not in any of her usual haunts and eventually Yennefer sends out a telepathic message to ascertain her whereabouts.

Tissaia. Are you hiding?

There's an unusually long pause, during which worry starts dripping into Yennefer's mind. Could something have happened to her? Could she be hurt? Surely she would have called out? Or Yennefer would have felt someth-

An image of where Tissaia is, rather than a spoken thought, enters her mind. A dank cavern, lit by the chaos of dozens, hundreds, of girls who didn't make it. Yennefer shudders. It's nearly time for those decisions to be made, but she thought they were still a few months away. Even though she hates the place, she decides she needs to investigate. Tissaia must have sent her the thought, so she won't mind.

---------

The smell is alway what hits her first; like the sea but more potent, more contained, like the air has circulated for too long. She peeks through the gap in the wall, as she had done all those years before, and sees Tissaia standing by the water's edge. She's alone, and there are no empty robes where girls had once stood.

"I know you're there, Yennefer," she says, without turning.

With a sigh, Yennefer carries on into the cavern, casting a glance into the water. As she draws closer to Tissaia, she sees a small pile of dead eels by her feet. Yennefer wrinkles her nose as she sees Tissaia pluck another one out of the water using the same implement Yennefer had used to push Anica and the others into the pool.

"What are you doing?" Yennefer asks, eyeing the dead, slimy animals with distaste. Some of them are fairly fresh, but a few look to be rotting and must have been dead for a while.

"I clean out the pool every year around this time," Tissaia says, turning and setting the tool aside, wiping her hands on a rag hanging from her belt. She nods to the pile of eels. "No point in them taking up space when they're of no use."

Yennefer shakes her head. "I- I had assumed-" She shrugs. "I never thought about them dying."

Tissaia smiles, sadly. "Everything dies, Yennefer." She turns to regard the pool, lifting a hand and making it glow. "It's true, some of them will live for decades, even centuries. Others burn out in a matter of years. It depends on the level of chaos they possessed as humans."

"I see." Yennefer moves to stand beside Tissaia. "And how is this a job for the Rectoress of Aretuza? Surely you have people who could do this for you?"

Tissaia's eyes are fixed on the water. "I choose to do it." She looks up to meet Yennefer's gaze. "I am the one to put them there. I should be the one to remove them." She lifts her chin, returning her eyes to the pool. "Do you know, when I first became a teacher here, I was...excited, enthusiastic."

"I cannot picture that," Yennefer says, bumping her shoulder against Tissaia's.

"Well, I was." Tissaia swallows. "I enjoyed seeing my girls do well. I loved their excitement when they finally mastered a spell or learned a new skill." Her hand comes up to her medallion, her thumb worrying the jewel in its centre. "And every time the ascensions drew near, when half the class would disappear, I would mourn for those who were lost."

Yennefer nods, opting to remain silent.

Tissaia sighs. "And then, when I became Rectoress, the decision became mine. Who would ascend, and who would be sacrificed to keep Aretuza going." She closes her eyes. "All those bright, young faces who'd looked to me for guidance…"

Reaching over, Yennefer takes her hand and squeezes. "But you did it," she says. "You made the choice."

"I did." Tissaia nods once. "And I have been making that choice ever since. But after that first time-" She squeezes Yennefer's hand, before letting their fingers slide together and interlock. "-I stopped allowing myself to get attached."

"So it wouldn't hurt so much," Yennefer says for her.

Tissaia turns to her and nods. "It was easier if I just...closed myself off." She sighs. "And over the years, I probably went too far in the other direction. I became cold and distant to the students."

Though Yennefer knows, now, that she is anything but, she cannot deny that's how she felt when she was a novice here, desperate for some sign of approval or affection.

"You did what you had to do to keep going," Yennefer says, finally. "I understand."

With a sigh, Tissaia turns back to look at the water. "So that's why I come here to carry out this task. It's something of a penance, I suppose. To see where my actions lead." Her fingers tighten around Yennefer's. "I grieve for every single one of these girls, Yennefer. For the girls they were and the women they never became. But I bear it, because it is my duty."

Shaking her hand free, Yennefer takes Tissaia by the hips and turns her so that they're facing each other. Tissaia looks up at her, something like shame in her eyes and Yennefer longs to chase it away.

"Luckily for me, the not getting attached thing didn't quite stick, did it?" She smiles, hoping Tissaia will too.

"We didn't speak for thirty years, Yennefer," Tissaia says, eyes shining. "I'd say that it stuck fairly well." She lifts a hand to Yennefer's face, stroking her cheek. "Though, I must admit, you always had the ability to get under my skin." She smiles and shakes her head. "You were always different."

Yennefer grins. "I was, wasn't I?" She slides her hands from Tissaia's hips to her waist, tugging her closer. "And so desperate for you to notice me."

"I always noticed you," Tissaia says, taking Yennefer's face in both hands. "I always knew you were special."

Dipping her head, Yennefer brushes her lips over Tissaia's. She glances over her shoulder at the pile of dead eels. "Perhaps you should finish your task here and we can move this somewhere more appropriate." She peers into the pool. "I feel like they're watching."

"I doubt that," Tissaia says, with a soft laugh. She kisses Yennefer once more and steps out of her arms. "Go on. I'll join you shortly."

"Don't be too long." Yennefer heads back out of the cavern. She stops at the gap and watches Tissaia approach the pile of corpses and crouch down, bowing her head and closing her eyes. Yennefer leaves her to make her amends.

#yennaia #the witcher #fic by me #wff #femslash february