Dear diary,

Today was a bad day. Mom and Uncle Rick said we couldn't stay at the bookstore we've been camping in the last few days because the sick people found it. I don't get why they are both always so mean to the sick people. They said it's because they want to hurt us but when I had the flu last year I never wanted to hurt anyone and I made funny noises too. I thought maybe if I brought them some of my favorite books they might see we can get along and it would help them feel better? Mom always said being happy is an important part of being healthy when dad was around. I just want everyone to get along like they used to.

Anyway, I promised Mom and Uncle Rick I'd stay in our secret hideout while they got some stuff we needed but it was super boring and we're leaving soon anyway so I thought it wouldn't be a big deal to go meet a sick person without any mean adults and give them my books and cheer them up a little.

I found a nice looking sick boy and tried to give him my books but it turns out he definitely was mean. He didn't even look at my books and just pushed me over and hit my back a lot and it hurt really bad. I screamed and Uncle Rick found me and hit the boy a lot of times even after he stopped moving. I don't get why everyone is so mean all the time.

Mom and Uncle Rick were really really mean after that. I just tried to do a nice thing like Mom always told me to do growing up and now she keeps crying and yelling. Uncle Rick keeps giving me really mean looks especially. I think him and mom are talking about me because I can't hear what words they are saying except for when mom screams more. I tried to hug them and tell them I'm sorry but both of them didn't even want my hugs this time and mom never says no to my hugs so I think I'm in extra big trouble. I'm going to try and sleep now, see you tomorrow diary!

..

WHOAAA, GUESS WHAT DIARY? IT'S A SUPER SPECIAL TWO ENTRY DAY! ^__^ Mom and Uncle Rick aren't mad anymore! They woke me up and said what I tried to do was really really nice and they love me so so much. They said they weren't mad at me even a little bit! They gave me my own special sleeping spot in my own room even to say sorry for yelling and said tomorrow we can do ANYTHING I wanted. I can't wait to tell you all about it tomorrow!

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Wasn’t this in the evil overlord list?

Dnd story. Nice!

Ever have any of those moments where it just feels like life is playing one massive prank on you? Well, apparently I was 'blessed' with the power of a moon goddess for no good reason. Coincidentally, I was getting mugged or robbed at least 10 times a week. I knew the whole cadence about how it all went, and Artemis(yes, the no-man-may-look-upon-me-and-live Artemis) beat their asses. I was getting tired of this, especially with this mugger standing right in front of me.

"Hand over your wallet, phone, and keys before I shoot you in the fucking face!"

"Dude, you know what happened to the others. Take a hint and leave."

The dumbass was obviously loaded, meaning he was just trying to rob me so he could rob me. A complete mistake. And it turns out he knew exactly which goddess decided to watch over me.

"Oh really? What's she going to do, flash her ass at me?"

I heard that ever so familiar chime warning of impending doom for the poor bastard.

"Well, it's started. Ten."

The dumbass looked around, trying to find a source of the chime. He wanted to know what had started, however he saw some silver mist floating above my shoulders that got clearer as a woman's voice rang out.

"Nine."

Unfortunately, this set the dumbass over the edge.

"Zero. Time's up."

He raised his pistol up at me, however I quickly turned the barrel away from my face before wrestling it out of his hands. He pulled out a knife, however by that time I had shot him in the face. He dropped like a stone and I promptly called the police. After a while, the killing was deemed self-defense and I was let go. Soon, I went home, and there she was, waiting for me. And by the looks of it, Artemis was pissed.

"Paris, we need to talk," she sighed.

"What is there to talk about?" I was having none of her BS about being more gentle.

"Why did you do it? You know I'm here to help you."

"Fat load of good that's doing me," I snapped back. "I can defend myself as you so clearly saw!"

"Paris, you shot and killed a man—"

"Just like you would have done to me if I wasn't the one you decided to take care of!" I shouted back at her. I had enough of this. "You would have shot me for refusing to turn into a woman just because I saw you, either as a human or as a deer!"

"Damn it, Paris, I told you not to bring those times up! I was a misandrist dickhead back then, sure, but I've changed!" Now she was angry. Good, I still needed to vent to her.

"Not that much, considering you're just pissed I killed him before you did!"

"Please! Every god and goddess changes! I mean, sure, you had me, but I've improved, and hell, I even found out I'm bi, but take Allah, for instance! He used to be extremely homophobic and hateful of God and both of his religions, but now the man's supporting gay rights all across the globe! He's even helped support charities about getting rid of al-Qaeda, Daesh, the Taliban, Hezbollah, the Houthis, any group terrorizing the Middle East! He got the US to return home from there and has even helped Iran and Iraq lose their religious dictatorships!"

"Then why aren't you helping him?"

"I can't be in two places at once and I swore to help you throughout your life, so you'll have to deal with the fact that you're stuck with me."

I sighed, shaking my head. This was too much for me. I walked off to my room, deciding to take a nap. She peeked her head into my room, knowing that I was just having one of those moments. Thankfully she was much calmer than before.

"I'll wake you when dinner's ready," she gently said to me before closing the door.

[deleted]

Nice spin on it. Unapologetic and owned it.

Lmao this is the most outta pocket reply ever.

Thanks! Very steamy stuff, plus juicy worldbuilding. You've got a gift.

This is exactly why irl bomb defusers hate seeing timers

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Merlin appeared with a clap of thunder, an impressive entrance bound to impress even a swaggering bunch like the knights currently gathered for the tourney on the Pendragon's courtyard, no doubt peppering poor young Arthur with questions and his guardian Sir Hector with ill-disguised demands.

Instead, he found young Morgana Le Fay admiring the sword once in the stone, supervising three men with pickaxes, and eyeing him with a decidedly less than impressed expression.

"Give it here, girl," he said, gruffly. "I'll reform the stone and no harm done."

Her eyes and hair were raven dark. She'd grow into the sort of beauty that could enchant a king and the magic to keep him at her side even after she grew old. Unfortunately for her, she was the daughter of Queen Igraine and her first husband Gorlois, not Igraine and Uther Pendragon who Merlin served.

"I think not," she said, dark eyes flashing. "What sort of test to determine the rightful ruler is this? My half-brother is what - fifteen this year, if I recollect - and does he have the wit to solve this riddle as I have done?"

Arthur was not particularly clever, no. But he was kind and humble, unlike his father who cast covetous eyes on another king's queen. Morgana's bitterness over the matter, made plain by her deeds here, must not harm the boy. He said, "It was no riddle, but a sign to mark the true king. No one will mistake you for the Pendragon's legitimate heir and thus you have accomplished nothing."

Shouts from the tourney announced another contest at arms. A worried looking squire darted from the stands towards them and passed into the row of knights' tents.

She cried, "Haven't I? I've shown your 'true king' to be nothing more than a magician's tool. This sign was not of legitimacy but rather of he who would make Merlin his master!"

"You are a fallen witch indeed to hate your brother so and endanger his kingdom," he said, drawing himself up so darkly that the workmen dropped their pickaxes and fled. "He was entirely innocent of the wrongs done your mother."

The squire, not finding whatever he was looking for in the tents, came rushing back out. He saw the shattered rock and the sword in her hands. "Lady, good lady, have you a use for that sword?"

Merlin froze. For the boy was Arthur. In a few more years, there'd be no hiding that he was the Pendragon's son.

Morgana looked from him to the squire, and said haughtily. "I have magic beyond your reckoning and thus no need of a sword. But what need have you?"

He bowed, clearly in imitation of the knightly manners he'd learned alongside his older (adopted, though he knew it not) brother Sir Kay. "My brother, Sir Kay, broke his sword in the fray. Without another one, he cannot compete. I would not see him disappointed. And so I dare ask you: would you grant my brother your favor and your sword so he may compete to your honor and glory?"

Much to Merlin's surprise, she softened her stance, tore a black ribbon from her gown, and tied it to the sword before handing it over. "That was nobly asked, squire. If your brother asks after the ribbon's color, tell him you and I both mourn our fathers."

He blinked, his face a mask of confusion and growing alarm. "Sir Hector was fine when I left him..."

Merlin cut in harshly, "He's fine now, squire. Run along." Where he saw the Pendragon's hard features in his youthful mien, it was natural that Morgana saw her mother's just as clearly.

Arthur left as he was bid, swiftly carrying the sword to Sir Kay, with no idea that he was about to be thrust headlong into his destiny more by his witch-sister's contrivance than Merlin's magic. The wizard glared at her.

She more than matched him, glower for glower. "Of course he's an innocent, you meddling old man! You stole my infant brother from my mother's bedside as your patron lay dying. No, you never thought about how she would feel, to lose husband and son at one stroke-"

"The rival kings would have killed him-" he protested.

"My arts could've protected him better than yours - you haven't even disguised him." She accused. "And he would have known he had a mother and a sister who loved him, not a false family who are about to be ripped away from him in exchange for a dead man's crown."

The crowd noise grew dead silent. She glanced back towards the stands and, again to his surprise, her bitterness softened. "He is not what I expected."

Stiffly, he said, "I served his father and his father's father faithfully. I had a very long time to consider what sort of son I wanted to serve."

For the first time, as she studied him under lowered brows and he examined her not as an opponent but as a potential colleague, they understood each other.

She said, "No more loss and falsehoods. He will gain a mother and a sister. I will gain two brothers and an adopted father besides, even if the youngest of us wears the crown."

If she could let go of her anger, he could surrender to the inevitable. "I will remain long enough to make explanations to the court and then leave your new family alone so long as he is in no danger."

She held out her hand. As he kissed it, a vision of foretelling rose before his eyes: Arthur, old and gray with wisdom, would have no heir of his own flesh to pass on the crown. The young man kneeling before him was raven-dark of hair and eye, and he ruled as justly as his uncle was humble and kind.

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In Bungou stray dogs they diffuse the bomb at 30 seconds.

love this!!

Username checks out. Nice story!

This is great, i love it

"I'm not sorry. I did what I had to." I stared down the camera. I was ready.

A police officer asked. "Mr. Johnson, are you sur-"

"I am. We all know what I did, why I did it, and I would think the rest of you folks would be grateful enough to still be alive to forgive me." I spat.

"You know how it all started?" I spat at the closest camera. They'd already sentenced James to death, I knew what was coming. "James, my old classmate, he approached me. Said he didn't want to die in nuclear fire, he had an idea. Rodney was already in. We would forcefully disarm the world of its nukes, saving your sorry brains. I would kill Chinese leadership, make sure that they would be headless and that the Terra Firma Systems Union would swallow them. The TFSU had too many redundancies, it had to be China. Rodney would hack TFSU nukes using his insider position, and James would hack Chinese nukes. Send 'em to the moon, they can't hurt anyone there."

"They did their jobs, I did mine. No nukes meant conventional warfare, which meant everyone is still alive. The Chinese always defuse that stuff at the last minute, live stream purposes. I got past it by setting the thing to explode at twenty to go." I stared at the international court below me. "James did his thing, and I'm no computer scientist, don't ask me how Rodney got past Canada AI. Maybe she let him through, didn't want to die either.

"I don't care. I'm not sorry for the people killed in riots, the soldiers killed in the war. They would've all died anyway, in a ball of plasma, fire, and radiation. Send me to Hell, I know I'm going there; I did what I had to, and you all know it." I ended my rant breathing heavily, eyes glaring at the court and cameras above me. "So do it. Get me back to Rodney and James. But we both know what we prevented."

The judges gave their answer. "Mr. Charlie Johnson, for regicide, assassination, and high-profile terrorist actions, the International Court of the United Nations finds you guilty and sentences you to death."

I watched the officers raise their weapons. "I'm not sorry. I did what I had to."

A bang, then darkness.

Holy… if that ain’t pure love then what is

In truth, cutting through the alleyway was perhaps not the smartest choice, but I was pressed for time; something that wasn't helped by the man who blocked my path with a knife in his hand.

"Wallet. Now," he barked.

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Don't," I replied simply.

"You think I'm joking, lady?" the man yelled back almost instantly. "You think I won't gut you like a fish? Give me your wallet now or-"

His words were cut short by a loud, somewhat moist thud that echoed through the alley. The would-be mugger barely had enough time to react before he found himself laying on the ground, looking up at the tall man with fiery red eyes standing beside me, wielding a two-handed hammer that matched his already impressive frame.

It was then he finally registered the pain in his leg. He looked down and saw the bloody pulp where his knee once was.

"O- oh," he muttered before passing out from shock. I looked over at the man standing beside me.

"Thank you, Lord Hephaestus," I said politely. He only grumbled back.

"No respect for craftsmen, I say," he said, clearly dissatisfied. "Are you well?" he asked me.

"With you watching over me, always, Lord Hephaestus," I smiled.

"Good. The prototype medical brace need some tuning, but is otherwise impressive. Keep it up," he nodded simply. I bowed my head respectfully and by the time I looked back up, he was gone, leaving behind only a fiery imprint of his shoes in the pavement.

I looked back at the mugger laying on the floor and reached for my phone to dial the ambulance. As I busied myself, a small ember left behind by Hephaestus slowly descended onto my shoulder and dissipated almost instantly, yet... the second it did, my eyes narrowed at the man's mangled knee.

"Of course," I whispered to myself. I perfect idea flashed through my head - a way to improve the medical brace I was designing, adding strength while removing weight with just a couple of simple adjustments. It seemed so obvious! Why didn't I-

I noticed the tiny speck of ash on my shoulder and chuckled. It put my mind at ease; I no longer felt bad for not thinking of the improvement earlier.

One can't beat divine inspiration from the God of Craftsmen, after all.

You see, unlike someone who hasn’t been bitten, someone who has been bitten will turn into a zombie. And if your world works in a way that zombies turn slowly, then you can have your character slowly turn into a zombie without knowing what’s going on.

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My first time taking shrooms I spent a long time pondering "happening"

As I smiled for the first time in what felt like forever, the girl looked up at me…

And frowned.

Reasons I am almost definitely not a zombie:

1. Bruises can stay for weeks without clearing up. The fact that my upper arm remains bright purple and blue should have no bearing.

2. There is nothing on me that looks like a bite mark. The scratches on my arm in the middle of the bruising are from whatever I ran into. Probably a tree.

3. Just because it felt like I was holding my breath for an hour yesterday while waiting for a hoard to pass doesn't mean it wasn't really a minute and a half. Obviously I can't accurately tell time without a clock.

4. I've always had difficulty finding my pulse especially in my wrist. Not currently being able to find my pulse means nothing.

I haven't been able to work out how the whole situation started yet. Between avoiding hoards, packing and repacking my survival backpack, raiding Wal-Mart for more paint samples, and price checking DVDs, I just haven't had the time.

I like paint samples. They remind me of paint commercials on TV, the kind where the parents are figuring out what color to paint the new baby's room.

Which reminds me I've got to return the baby names book to the library. It's due date is tomorrow. Along with half a dozen other books.

If I leave now, I think as I'm shuffling through the paint samples, I'll probably make it before the library closes. And I've got another pack of the expensive index cards for the catalogue. If there's anything I've learned from the Library of Alexandria it's that a society of one still needs a working card catalogue if they're going to be able to use any of the books to survive without burning them (adult romance novels don't count). Well that and don't burn your only source of information and entertainment no matter how angry you are to be the survivor.

The library is actually the reason for my list. If I'm going crazy or turning into a zombie I'd like to leave a record of it. That way some poor archeologist in the future can make sense of what happened here. I certainly haven't managed it yet.

I pick out a nice set of greens and rub the colors as I make my way out of the store. I use the side entrance and lock it up with the nice bike chain I found in the toy section. The key goes into the drop box. My sign on the door says, "The key to the chain is in the (unlocked) drop box. Please lock up and return the key when exiting."

The other side of the sign, the one that can be seen from the inside of the door, says, "Please sign your name and then come visit me at Costco." I've taped a working pen to the sign, but the only name there is my own.

Figures.

I make it to the library without any mishaps greater than tripping over nothing. Not even a zombie to walk away from.

My sun-bleached signs on the library doors read, "Welcome to the Library! The key is in the Dropbox. Please lock up and return key when exiting."

The books are also behind locked doors, but I keep the key with me. Books useless in an apocalypse (read: adult romance novels and unfinished series) are left in the lobby. They are for kindling.

I'm halfway through cataloging the Young Adult J's when I hear a thud and some shuffling. I pause and listen more closely.

Did I forget to lock the door? I think.

A moment later I realize the answer is yes when a zombie shuffles into view. I look toward the other end of the aisle for my escape route, but apparently I'm on the one aisle with only one entrance. I look for my escape plan book. But underneath the catalogue cards is just dusty carpet. I purse my lips and sigh inwardly.

Climbing the shelves it is.

At the top I pause to examine the zombie. It looks like it had been wearing a pink dress and it's hair is a dark shade of red. It's bruised arms reach for me but can't quite touch the top of the shelf. It grunts and rasps.

Terrifying. (Please note the sarcasm.)

It doesn't look like anyone I know so I jump down the other side and make my way to the stairs.

"Hey Zom-breath!" I call, when I'm past the aisle. "The delicious definitely human flesh is over here!"

The zombie turns and starts shuffling it's way over toward me at a much faster pace. The closer it gets, the more it's jaw begins working readying itself to feed.

I let it chase me out of the library before I turn a couple of corners and loop my way back to the library.

It seems I've only left out the most important part of the list. I put it at the top and number it 0.

The zombies do not see me as one of their own.