#and i refuse virtually any other explanation

[mearchy]

disney genderification of mandalorian helmet visors what if i killed you with one million hammers. why the fuck did they do that. the whole point of the gender neutral language and the ubiquitousness of the armor design is that a Mandalorian is a Mandalorian first and foremost and social roles/presentations are not based on sex/gender. they’ve got words for different genitals, probably for different biological processes. but the concept of a man being of different presentation than a woman, or a mother different than a father, a sister than a brother, is not present in the language or the culture. why would you then assert they design their helmets, the most important part of their armor, differently. in a way always associated with certain secondary sex characteristics. do you want me to kill you

[goodqueenaly]

i didn't know if you answered this before but i'm curious about what you think of alysanne and viserra's relationship. jaehaerys is a pretty bad dad to most of his daughters esp. but alysanne seemed fine to me in f&b except with viserra for some reason. she seems weirdly accusing towards her own daughter? like it's fine if viserra reminds her of saera in personality but she seemed more forgiving of the daughter that caused a huge scandal and left westeros than the one she thought of as too ambitious. like viserra wanting to marry baelon. alyssa was dead at that point, and it was possible baelon could take a second wife if he wanted. they are targs so a brother-sister marriage isn't out of the question. why was she so against it that she thought marrying viserra to old man manderly was the solution? it felt like an out of proportion punishment to me, especially because there were plenty of other heirs in westeros that were likely age appropriate. it wasn't even a pragmatic decision bc lord manderly already had a heir. what do you think?

More under the cut:

I have said before and I’ll say it again, I very strongly dislike the Viserra portion of Fire and Blood. I consider the Viserra story exceptionally poorly written, in a book that I find overall to be a subpar expression of the author’s genuine talent. Viserra exists in this narrative, I believe, only to be a B-tier version of her sister Saera, a villain in her parents’ story rather than a multi-dimensional character in her own right. Fire and Blood does not present Viserra as a sympathetic, much less heroic or laudatory, figure, but rather as a Rich Bitch, a Vamp, a “sly” schemer whose (so the story portrays) selfishness to the point of death emotionally devastated her mother and contributed to a break in the relationship between king and queen. 

I’ve also gone on the record as saying that the writing around the marriages of Jaehaerys and Alysanne’s daughters in Fire and Blood seems to me largely clumsy, irrational, and/or just plain nonsensical. Politico-dynastic justifications are almost nonexistent in these unions or would-be unions, with instead a bizarre (for the blue-blooded actors in-universe) emphasis on marriages for love. (That the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms is seen to refuse virtually any responsibility or agency in selecting spouses for his daughters speaks volumes to how absurd Fire and Blood’s approach to these marriages is.) Consequently, trying to apply anything resembling what we might call standard royal or aristocratic logic to the question of Viserra’s marriage is, I think, an ultimately futile task. While Fire and Blood makes half-hearted attempts to explain some alleged gain from Viserra’s betrothal to Lord Manderly, ultimately the explanation is at best thin and does not support Alysanne’s vehement insistence that Viserra marry Theomore 

So all that said - what do I take away at the end of the day regarding the relationship between Alysanne and Viserra? Perhaps the least sinister - emphasis on least - reading of the situation is that Alysanne wanted Viserra to have what Alysanne believed would be a loving marriage with a man Alysanne believed would care for Viserra. The argument from Alysanne in favor of Lord Manderly was largely founded on what Alysanne believed were Theomore’s personal qualities: Gyldayn notes that the queen “was very fond of him … remembering the warm welcome he had given her during her first visit to the North” and later insisted to Viserra that Lord Manderly was “a good man … a wise man, with a kind heart and a good head on his shoulders”. Having idealized the similarly much older (certainly relatively to his prospective bride) Rodrik Arryn because Lord Arryn was “a kind and gentle man” who had “loved our little girl for years”, a man Alysanne said she knew would “protect her [i.e. Daella]”, perhaps Alysanne saw Theomore in much the same light - a kind elder statesman who would watch over and guard his princess bride and whose longstanding loyalty to the royal couple was cherished.  

It’s also possible, I think, that in line with such a personal, even sentimental approach to marriage making, Alysanne was reluctant to have Viserra replace her daughter Alyssa as Baelon’s wife. Alysanne, after all, had been the one to champion the Baelon-Alyssa marriage, declaring to Jaehaerys that “Alyssa [was] for Baelon” because “[s]he ha[d] been following him around since she could walk” and the siblings were “as close as you and I were at their age”. In turn, perhaps Alysanne had decided that no one could, or should, replace Alyssa as Baelon’s beloved wife - including, maybe especially, the ambitious Viserra. Alysanne critically observed that Viserra “aim[ed] much higher” than the boys and squires she apparently teased, and that Baelon was “the husband she desire[d], but “not for love of him”, only out of a desire “to be the queen” - an objection seemingly prioritizing love over political ambition, with Alysanne clearly believing Viserra had only the latter. Having herself eloped with Jaehaerys for love, to escape an unwanted political union with Rogar Baratheon’s brother Orryn, Alysanne may have wanted to avoid a marriage made only for the political advantage of one of the spouses (while, of course, completely apparently failing to recognize Vserra’s eventually fatal desperation to do the same as her mother had ahead of her Manderly marriage)

Too, in the aftermath of both the Saera affair and the search for a husband for Daella, I think Alysanne may have been unwilling to let Viserra have a personal court of young noblemen from which to choose her suitors and/or eventual husband. Having herself censured Saera for the sexual relationships the latter engaged in with three aristocrats of an age with her, and having witnessed Jaehaerys’ brutal response to that situation (including Jaehaerys’ cruel opinion that Saera “always was” a “whore”), Alysanne may have believed that the only way to prevent a similar situation was to remove Viserra from her court of admirers (and, of course, her father) and send her to the other side of Westeros. The solution, as Alysanne had determined for Daella, was to find Viserra a great lord for a husband who give her “wealth and position” while also being (as Gyldayn described Rodrik Arryn) “a leal friend to both king and queen”, an “able lord, strong but just, affable, open-handed, loved by the smallfolk and his lords bannermen alike”.

Again, these explanations do not at all justify either the lack of apparent political value to the marriage or the seeming inability or unwillingness of Alysanne to recognize the creepiness inherent in such a union. At no point did Alysanne (much less Jaehaerys, who again inexplicably washed his hands of the matter) seem to consider that a lord with multiple children and grandchildren already could offer little in the way of long-term dynastic investment in exchange for the significant boon one of the only remaining royal children, nor seemingly consider whether the Starks would have been a viable alternative solution (or, indeed, what the Starks who apparently resented what I call the Donation of Alysanne would have thought of the king and queen betrothing their daughter to their richest and perhaps most powerful bannerman). Too, just as I previously noted how much of a fucking creep Rodrik Arryn was, (and, by extension, how disturbing it was that first Alysanne and then Jaehaerys seized so eagerly on him as a husband for Daella), so I need to emphasize here that Alysanne was actively, and equally disturbingly, championing marrying off her 15 year old daughter to a man probably at least five decades her senior (described even by Gyldayn as “old” when this marriage was being arranged), who had himself already been married four times. (Jaehaerys should also be criticized here, of course, for his complete lack of empathy for or engagement, no pun intended, in Viserra’s nuptial dilemma.) In every way, it’s a bad story.

(Those are just the least sinister interpretations, I believe. I’m not even dealing with Elio Garcia’s “Alysanne was allegedly jealous of Viserra's beauty and charm and wanted her away from court for that reason” because I can’t deal with another example of him making a bad book that much worse. Nor do I really want to engage with the much more substantively awful theories around Jaeherys’ treatment of his daughters. It would be interesting to speculate how much Alysanne feared Viserra’s eagerness to become Baelon’s wife in order to push Baelon as the heir presumptive ahead of Princess Rhaenys, but that would have required the author to care even remotely about describing the politico-dynastic dynamic around the succession.)

[theflowergothic]

The Weird Similarities I’m Finding Between the Sinder Drama and Kelly Piquet

This has been in my head the past couple days, and I need to write it out. Bear with me.

So I’m not sure how many of y’all follow Virtual Streamer/VTuber drama. I’m not really into the scene myself save for a couple streamers (Gawr Gura, Dokibird, Takane Lui), but tweets from the latest VTuber scandal have invaded my feed, and I can’t help but draw parallels to our main character: Kelly Piquet.

First, a quick explanation of who Sinder is and the controversy she’s gotten herself into from what I can gather:

Sinder is an independent VTuber who built her brand around being a cozy, kind-hearted hellhound girl. Think “saucy and scandalous, but sweet”. She showed herself as approachable, amiable, and a little mischievous— someone you could see yourself trusting or considering a friend.

But according to testimonies (most notably from artist Nanoless), there was something much darker brewing behind the scenes. The allegations include, but are not limited to:

Pressuring artists into unofficial exclusivity, discouraging them from working with others (Nanoless)

Sabotaging other VTubers behind their backs, including those she called friends (Silvervale)(Bao)

Allowing her boyfriend (Red) to serve as her manager, a relationship dynamic that blurred personal and professional boundaries (Vampeaches)

In short: the “sweet hellhound” persona hid the person Sinder truly was: manipulative, controlling, and territorial. And the setup with her boyfriend/manager created a situation where any criticism or discomfort could be spun as betrayal — both professionally and personally.

Since the allegations came out, Sinder has released an “apology letter”. She acknowledged she hurt people and mishandled her relationships, but frames much of her behavior around fear, ignorance, and misplaced trust in others (namely, her now-former manager — who, again, was also her boyfriend).

It’s the classic soft-deflection tactic: admit to some wrongdoing to appear mature and accountable, but ultimately reframe the scandal as a tragic misunderstanding where she was also a victim. And in turn, throw the person closest to you under the bus.

So how does this relate to Kelly? I’m so glad you asked: Kelly Piquet is the FINAL BOSS form of Sinder’s tactics.

Sinder’s alleged manipulation stayed mostly within the VTuber and artist communities. By contrast, Kelly is on the global motorsports stage, weaving herself into her victim’s life, career, and image.

And sure, there are differences to their tactics:

Where Sinder leaned on a “cozy hellhound” persona, Kelly perfected the act of the glamorous, nurturing, “future Mrs. Verstappen” — someone you were supposed to root for and admire.

Where Sinder shifted blame to her manager/boyfriend, Kelly used burner accounts (Serendipity1818, Bluepurplecoconut) to attack critics, manipulate gossip narratives, and quietly push Max into defending her.

Where Sinder framed her downfall as a tragic misunderstanding fueled by fear, Kelly framed all criticism of her as jealousy, misogyny, or ignorance without ever addressing the harm she caused.

But at the end of the day, both stories follow the same plot:

build trust through softness → exploit it behind the scenes → play the victim when challenged → quietly rewrite history.

Both Kelly and Sinder have hurt people through their actions. And both go to show us that h arm is still harm, no matter how soft the branding. Manipulation doesn’t become less dangerous just because it’s delivered with a smile.

And another lesson to be learned from both Kelly and Sinder is that parasociality is a hell of a drug. It talks fans into defending illusions. It talks fans into badmouthing those who refuse to play the game. It talks victims into second-guessing their instincts. And it convinces the perpetrators that they are above accountability.

Because when someone has crafted a persona that feels warm, harmless, aspirational… it’s easy to forget that persona was built for an audience and not for the truth.

That's why stories like these matter, whether it's Sinder quietly isolating collaborators behind the scenes, or Kelly Piquet weaving herself into a vulnerable young man's life. Because emotional performance is not the same as emotional integrity.

And that when someone asks you to trade your discernment for loyalty, you’re not protecting them, you’re protecting the illusion they built.

[tearwolfe]

after doing some mixing and matching, i've figured out a full cast for the monster detective AU! minus virtual singers, because i still need to figure out what to do with them. i might make them evil...

this is a world where magic and monsters exist, however, people are very hush-hush about it. monsters that go bump in the night is more of a scary story parents use to get their kids to go to bed early..

major roles in this story are detectives, monsters (mostly the shape-shifting kind like tsukasa), magicians, monster protectors, demons, and our primary antagonists! well, the state of their antagonist roles might change later on. i don't really have a chronological story for these guys, it's moreso just a world i can play with whenever i want!

since it's long, i've written everything under the read more!

note: rui is a private investigator and tsukasa is his monster sidekick. if you need an explanation on them, you can find everything in this post.

akito & an — another detective duo. these two used to work alongside rui, however rui split away from them due to differences in work ethic. also, akito and rui are exes. take what you will with that.

on occassion, they will have to work with rui (and tsukasa).

emu & nene — emu comes from a long line of magicians. she is talented in magic and uses it to put on performances at theaters around town, a large one of which her family owns. nene, a friend of rui's, befriends her and begins learning magic from her.

magic isn't a known thing in this world, however, nene learns of its existence through rui's strange encounters. thus, she suspected the use of magic in emu's shows (herself knowing how certain tricks are supposed to work).

now, nene works alongside emu as her magician's assistant in shows. with both of their knowledge of magic, though, they've been known to assist rui with cases.

mizuki & ena — mizuki is a phantom thief, operating during the night to steal riches from wealthy individuals and institutions. ena is an artist and helps mizuki, keeping their identity a secret, even from her detective brother. the two live together.

mizuki and rui were formerly friends, but rui was never aware of their thievery. though, at the time, it was on a much smaller scale.

although they are not very skilled at magic, the two have managed to accomplish some amount of dark magic.

these two are the primary antagonists.

kohane & toya — both are monsters with similar transformative abilities to tsukasa. kohane's transformation resembles a hamster, meanwhile toya's is more akin to a cat.

toya and akito were once friends during their youth (though akito was not aware of toya's status as a monster, he just thought he had a weird sense of style). a crackdown on monster inhabitants in the town caused toya to leave for a long while, never giving akito any answers. during this time he befriends kohane. the two eventually meet akito and an in the current timeline, after tsukasa and rui become a team.

honami & shiho — both girls are shapeshifting monsters. alongside saki, the two of them live with ichika.

ichika & saki — saki is a monster like her brother. however, her transformation is much more powerful than the other shapeshifters. this leaves her often fatigued. unlike the others, she does not need a hat to kick off the transformation. ichika is a monster protector under the guise of an investigator. she keeps an eye on her girlfriends and other monsters in the area.

haruka and ichika often find themselves working together, so they are good friends.

mafuyu & kanade — these two are demons summoned to assist mizuki and ena's malevolent deeds. despite her status as a demon, kanade is actually very nice and refuses to harm people or other monsters.

ena and mizuki have become considerably close with them.

haruka & minori — much like ichika, haruka is a monster protector who disguises herself as an investigator. minori is a monster that she saved from a hunter, and now has vowed to stick by haruka's side and help other monsters.

shizuku & airi — airi is a talented magician who became friends with another magician, shizuku, during her studies. she later learns that shizuku is actually a monster who was able to use a mirage to disguise herself.

finding empathy in shizuku's position, airi agrees to team up with her to help make the world a better place for monsters. the two later join haruka and minori.

[blimbosworlddd]

Nirvana: A Rock Lee Tale (Chapter 10)

Summary: After Lee helps you process the fallout of his bargain, he asks you something you never thought you'd hear. Can Sasuke deal with the pressure of a legacy on his back during his fight? Can Lee deliver that legacy during his own?

Notes: slow burn fic, afab/fem/black chubby reader.

WARNINGS: angst and fluff, graphic descriptions of blood and violence, cursing, graphic descriptions of wounds. The reader and Lee are in their late 20s but virtually any age group that is 18 and up can enjoy this story. Again 18+, minors do not interact… pls.

Word count: 5.8k

Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You stand outside of the backroom, holding yourself. The distant crowd rumbling the floor with booming enthusiasm is the only thing grounding you, keeping you from disappearing into your misery.

Why would he agree to such a deal? You ask yourself. Why would he put his own dignity– especially my dignity– at stake?

The door behind you opens and snaps you out of your spiraling, only to see that it’s Madara- to your utter chagrin. You don’t address him when he walks past you, even after he stops in his tracks.

“It either would’ve ended this way or far, far worse,” he confesses, slightly turning his head to peek at your distressed state. “Be grateful for his cooperation.”

“For the record,” You counter spitefully. “You will never have me.”

You continue glaring at him as he walks off, but your ears keep replaying his advice. Why should you be grateful right now? And how much worse would it have gotten had Lee refused the bargain? More and more thoughts continue swimming in your head, fruits of regret ripening with every passing second. 

Was nursing for this dojo… a  mistake?

A heavy hand finds its place on your shoulder. You flinch at the abrupt contact and turn to see Lee, realizing you didn’t notice him approaching you. You search his eyes for an explanation- anything- to make sense of the events that just transpired. But all you see is despondent acceptance. In your mind, defeat. That’s simply not enough for you.

“Why don’t I just walk out of this arena right now and act like none of this ever happened?” You challenge.

Lee frowns as he lets his hand fall from your shoulder to caress your arm. You hate how good it feels. You also hate how he looks at you- as if there’s still no one else in the world he’d rather look at than you.

“Because we both know you won’t,” he answers. “Look, I know you deserve better than this, and baby I am so sorry that you’ve been dragged into it. But I’m never gonna let him hurt you.”

You drop your gaze to the floor with a rueful chuckle, “Yeah, right.”

Lee lifts your chin up with a chilling quickness: a stern gaze carrying such frightening resolve, like he’s offended you would even consider doubting him. It sucks away your breath, stirring that familiar heat between your legs. 

“I will protect you,” he vows, the stark authority in his low voice sending shivers down your back. When Lee gets like this, anything he says is law. This is just your first time experiencing it at this intensity. “You understand?”

There’s a foreign hunger behind his eyes. A shameless oath to keep you safe- it melts you from the inside.

You ogle at his pretty lips while resting your hands on his broad chest. You steadily run your fingers up to feel his contours until they reach his nape, not really grasping that your tender movements are melting him just as overwhelmingly. Deep down, you know Lee would do anything to protect you. Your faith in him is simply being tested on a greater scale.

“Yeah, I… I understand,” you mutter shyly.

Lee relaxes with a soft grin at your compliance. 

What did I do to deserve you? He swoons to himself.

Your hands pull him in, relieved that you can embrace him with no resistance. Your foreheads lean into each other, basking in the closest thing to quiet you both will ever share for the day. But when you’re this close, it’s easy to block everything else out. You slightly angle your head to the side, nose swiping his cheek as you lean in for a kiss.

And when your lips slowly interlock, he happily breathes in the sweetness of your scent. He wraps his strong arms around your pudgy waist and pulls you flush against him. This is really all he needs: to encase the love of his life in his arms.

Reluctantly, Lee gradually pulls back from your lips but not too far from where he was initially.

“I know we’ve been dating for quite some time, but uhh…” He breathes while gently rubbing your curves. His eyes dart in random directions, thinking of what to say before looking at you. You stroke his warm cheek with a reassuring thumb, urging him to take his time.

And when he finally meets your gaze, you’re left haunted by the pure vulnerability in his glistening eyes.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

It’s crazy how despite the countless times you’ve daydreamed about some random guy professing to you, never in your life would you have expected it to unfold this way. Despite your career goals, despite your individual pursuit of greatness, this is truly all you’ve ever wanted in life. Maybe… maybe it’s not only magical for some. 

As you take the time to gush over your new- and hopefully last- romantic partner, Lee notices Neji approaching with carefully wrapped ice packs in hand, ultimately ripping him from his love-induced trance. 

“Our dojo will be back on the mat soon,” Announces Neji with a knowing smile. 

Lee throws his game-face on, “Right!”

Guess I’ll answer him later, you think to yourself.

Smiling hopelessly, you thank the gracious man for getting those ice packs. You and Lee hesitantly release each other and follow Neji into the backroom.

-

Sasuke opens his eyes, and the first thing he sees is a young man adorned in a red gi. The right half of his face is severely scarred. The opponent does his own scanning of Sasuke, taking note of the dark green gi he wears along with his bandaged limbs.

Sasuke ignores the sea of surrounding spectators and flashing lights, nothing more than distractions. He settles in a fight stance meticulously inspired by Lee’s signature, except he raises his fists just below his eyesight as a form of defense. The scarred opponent, however, isn’t enacting a stance. He’s just standing.

“Hey, what’s your name?” Inquires Sasuke.

The scarred adolescent’s face contorts in confusion at his demanding tone, “What’s your name?”

“Sasuke. Now tell me.”

“...Obito.”

Sasuke chuckles. He won’t know what hit him, he assures himself.

The referee raises his hand, signaling the fight will start any moment now.

“Bow.”

Obito and Sasuke lower their heads to honor the upcoming fight.

“I will not disgrace my master." Obito repeats silently to himself.

The referee casts his hand down, “BEGIN!”

Both opponents back a few feet away from each other. Sasuke does not strike first, remembering what Lee firmly advised him. He takes Obito’s stagnant figure into account: he isn’t crouching, balling his fists or making any particular weapon out of his limbs.

I will not let him read my movements, Obito tells himself. He doesn’t take his glaring eyes off of Sasuke, watching the way he moves around him in a circle. Quiet feet taking steady steps, inching closer and closer to Obito, but not quite attacking yet. And Obito takes notice of this, making sure that once he’s close enough he will not hesitate.

Obito’s hands may look like open palms, but the trick here is that his fingers are curved inwards- like claws. Madara smirks to himself, knowing Sasuke is most likely unfamiliar with such subtle dirty approaches to battle.

The Mighty Rock Dojo is all about in-your-face fighting, techniques that wow the audience with their avant-garde moves. But all it really takes is one little shift, one small positioning that changes the trajectory of a fight. What Madara fails to realize though, is that Sasuke is a big fan of details.

Obito’s hairs raise when Sasuke approaches personal space territory, and meets the warrior’s forearm with an abnormally fast roundhouse kick. Sasuke endures the heavy force, his own reflexes allowing him to counter with a powerful jab to the gut.

But Obito eats that shit and grabs his wrist. He strikes Sasuke’s right cheek with a claw, leaving four profound slashes. Sasuke winces at the searing pain before planting his foot against Obito’s chest to propel away from his grasp. It felt like a brick wall. While keeping his distance, Sasuke feels hot blood pouring from the cuts on his face.

“C’mon,” Lee grumbles. “Let your enemy fight himself.”

Sasuke takes a deep breath and recalls his teacher’s infamous motto: “Trust what you’ve learned and your body will follow.”

He crouches a bit lower than his initial stance, paying acute attention to how the angular structure of Obito’s claws are significantly more defined after that first attack. His true weapon, Sasuke realizes.

“It’ll take more than some bullshit punches to beat me,” Obito deadpans. “I hope you’re ready.”

And Sasuke knows he’s right: it is going to take more to beat Obito; it is going to take more to preserve his dignity as a taijutsu fighter; it is going to take more to defend his dojo’s legacy. The young warrior thinks of that million-dollar question he previously asked: Am I Sensei’s most gifted student?

Now is the time to figure that out for himself.

Obito advances towards Sasuke in only three steps with an onslaught of claw attacks. Sasuke dodges every swing, putting his years worth of foot-work to use. His feet never stop moving as he increases his reaction speed, making sure Obito never touches him.

“He’s adapting,” Madara murmurs.

Look for an opening, Sasuke reminds himself. As fast as Obito is, he eventually slows down at the rate in which Sasuke repeatedly weaves his violent advances. Obito growls aggravatedly as he continues to miss his target.

You will not outmaneuver me, Obito promises. I’m faster than you.

And the young man may be right, considering that he finally manages to grab Sasuke’s shoulder after such a tiresome offense. But knowing that the shape of Obito’s hands guarantees an iron grip, Sasuke does not try to break free. Instead, he balls his fist and meets the bottom of Obito’s chin with a nasty uppercut. His head falls back like a bobble-head at the impact, and the surrounding crowd roars with excitement.

In the split second his opponent loses consciousness, Sasuke restrains the hand on his shoulder and uses his other fist to bombard Obito’s face with brutal punches. He hears a small crack after a particularly hard pounding to the nose, but he doesn’t stop. Teeth start to fall from Obito’s mouth with every continuous hit.

I will protect my dojo, Sasuke desperately tells himself.

Right after Sasuke recoils his hand back for another strike, Obito projects a spray of blood all over Sasuke’s face. 

Lee’s eyes widen in disbelief as he watches Obito, “He…he spat in his face?”

Madara cackles with unparalleled amusement.

“Fuck-” Sasuke’s eyes instinctively shut.

Obito doesn’t miss a beat, grabbing Sasuke’s nape and shoulder before repeatedly hurling his stomach with ruthless knee strikes. He pummels Sasuke’s gut with a murderous shout, every blow jolting his entire body. Sasuke tries to push him away, but he feels like he’s about to vomit with every passing second.

Obito releases Sasuke, only to clasp his hands together and pound the back of his neck like a hammer. Sasuke’s body hits the mat.

The fallen young man gasps for air, but every time he breathes his ribs feel like they’re on fire, cracking under the pressure of unfathomable heat. He coughs up a bit of blood, balling his fists to muster as much energy as humanly possible, anything to get back on his feet. But he’s pinned to the floor.

My dojo depends on me. My sensei depends on me…

Sasuke strains as he lifts his head to look for his teacher, but his vision has blurred significantly.

How can I be the most gifted if I let them down this easily?

Obito towers over Sasuke's limp body. He looks to the referee expectantly, waiting for him to conclude the fight. Sasuke uses the last iota of adrenaline and seizes both of Obito’s ankles.

The opponent yelps as Sasuke yanks his feet off the mat with a grunt. Obito’s head is the first to hit the floor when he falls, ultimately paralyzing his body with pain. At the sight of his incapacitated state, Sasuke flips Obito on his stomach and straddles his back. Obito’s eyes flutter open at the foreign weight on top of him, but before he could react Sasuke puts him in a chokehold.

No, Obito denies himself. He claws at his arm, using any remaining strength to try and pull it off. 

But the more he resists, Sasuke tightens his grip.

“Yield,” Sasuke orders.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to end…

Obito’s neck feels like it’s about to be ripped clean off, like his eye sockets are going to pop open. But his hands continue their death grip on Sasuke’s arm as he continues to struggle and writhe beneath him.

“Yield,” Sasuke warns once more, and he makes sure this will be the last time he says it.

And when drool starts to run down Obito’s chin from the gagging, when the surrounding light starts dimming to black, his left hand taps repeatedly on the mat. Sasuke catches the signal and immediately releases his hold.

He lifts himself off of Obito’s body who shakes with intense bouts of coughing. The referee approaches the scene, raises Sasuke’s hand in the air, and deems him the winner.

“Tch,” Madara petulantly slouches back against his seat. “I’ll punish him later.”

-

Sasuke sits on the treatment bed, making sure he stays nice and still as you tend to his facial wounds. Pleased to see he’s not complaining this time, you’re able to do your job easier and quicker. Too busy cleaning off his blood, you don’t catch the student meeting your focused gaze.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” Sasuke confesses.

A tired sigh escapes your lips as you continue treating him, “…Me neither.”

“What changed your mind?”

The sincere curiosity in his voice halts your calculated movements.

“I don’t know yet,” Your brows furrow together. “But what I can assure you, is that treating you all after watching your hard work pay off so wonderfully was the first thing to cross my mind.’’

The teen reluctantly feels a flush creeping up his neck, “You don’t look too happy about it.”

“...And I’m okay with that.” You conclude while wrapping up his bandages.

Lee approaches you and the student shortly after, greeting you both with a graceful nod. Sasuke’s fingers curl into tight fists as he braces himself.

“How did you feel when you fought him and won?”

Sasuke’s eyes widened in a state of shock, not expecting such an introspective question. As soon as he hums absentmindedly to ponder it, Lee flicks him on the forehead- to his absolute bewilderment. You can’t help but chortle at the exchange occurring before you.

“Don’t think, Sasuke. Feel.” The master points his finger towards the teen’s chest. “How did you feel?”

Without even having to think about it, Sasuke responds on pure instinct: “It felt like I really was your greatest student.”

Sasuke’s never opened up to Lee like this since the first moment he asked to join the dojo. The teacher can’t help the smug grin threatening to grace his lips.

Is this how you felt when you trained me, Guy Sensei? He asks himself.

“You work harder than any other martial artist in our dojo.” Lee plops a rewarding hand on the top of his student’s head, ruffling his hair for good measure. “You have a long way to go, but if you stay dedicated like this, you'll become your own master.”

Lee never was and never will be the type to half-ass anything he says or does. Sasuke’s eyes sparkle with wonder at this realization, and his burning cheeks feel like they’re being ignited by a passion he finally feels safe enough to embrace. Your beloved turns to you, signaling to the student for some privacy. 

After Sasuke excuses himself, Lee’s instincts take over, and he passionately engulfs you into a hug. He’s got you melting into his sculpted arms, his firm- inescapable grasp.

“I love the way you hold me,” You whimper against his buff chest as it rumbles with that deep laughter you know and love.

“Well, get ready angel.” He warns, a low purring beside your ear. “ ‘Cause this won’t be the last time I hold you.” 

You giggle flusteredly at his teasing, as he takes a shameless whiff of your neck. He needs that saccharine-sweet smell, that feeling of your soft body pressing against him carved into his brain. You revel in this intimate moment, especially because you both know it may be the last one you share for a while.

Lee can hear the distant arena crowd booming, along with his foreseeable future. Reluctantly, your man gradually pulls away from your warmth, your scent, your love. He sighs somberly into a smile with unbreakable resolve.

“Show that bastard what you’re made of, champ.” You playfully punch his arm, a glint of mischief in your eyes.

Lee chuckles, sincerely grateful for your knack for jokes.

“Yes ma’am.” He promises with an effortless– albeit adorably corny- wink, before turning to make his way to the main arena.

You take a deep breath, and exhale with your own resolve: “I will not abandon my dream. Whatever that may be.”

-

Lee walks into the lively arena, followed by you, Might Guy, Neji, and the rest of the dojo. The bustling crowd and charismatic announcer are no match for the mental clarity Lee immersed himself in, especially after locking eyes with Madara Uchiha from across the mat.

The spiky-haired master shares the same state of mind, except he smiles menacingly- feeling giddy about all the outrageous things he plans to do to him. Madara is topless as he enters the platform, enjoying the thousands of eyes eating up his physique.

“I still got it in me,” Madara jokes to himself.

You stand by Lee, watching him untie his gi before shrugging it off. 

“Fuck,” you mouth to yourself. You remember how he looks shirtless in the videos you’ve seen of previous matches, but you could never have been prepared for seeing the real thing in person. Lee’s built like a god: gorgeous abs, thin waist, those back muscles intricately flexing beneath the soft glow of his skin. He is a walking embodiment of mastery.

So is Madara: old battle scars littered across the death machine that is his vessel. You want to say something to your man as he makes his way up the platform, but you remind yourself that he’s in the zone right now and needs no distraction. So you send him your love silently. 

This match is separate from the taijutsu tournament: it’s an inter-generational battle between two warriors who are finally settling the score. Besides no killing, there aren’t any rules applied to this fight: whoever forfeits or loses consciousness first, loses.

Madara and Lee settle into their respective stances, waiting for the referee to give the signal. They never take their eyes off one another, even after the referee begins the match. Both men take their time as they tread carefully in a circle, analyzing subtle movements while deciding when to strike.

“In taijutsu, there is no thinking.” A memory of Might Guy teaching him as a child plays in his head. “And yet, there’s no dreaming either.”

Madara anchors his right foot on the mat and propels himself in the air to axe kick the top of Lee’s head. Stunned by hearing his leg cut through the wind, Lee grunts with dread while successfully jumping backward before the force of his foot can reach him. Madara casually returns to his stance and walks back in a circle.

“Your reaction speed is impressive,” The older master goads him on with praise. “I almost put my all in that kick.”

Lee knows he can’t stay in defense forever, but he must get to know his opponent first. Madara throws a couple more experimental jabs to further test his reactions, allowing Lee to use that time to analyze: the man may not be putting in much effort, but the more he attacks the more frequently his ribs expand to accommodate air. Slowly but surely, he’s getting tired. And those cigars he loves to smoke so much are not helping.

Right before Madara initiates another attack, Lee lowers his knees and extends his arms before zooming towards him with a straight punch. The older master angles his wrist to swerve the incoming fist out of his way and uses the closing distance to yank Lee’s neck into a brutal death grip. Lee feels himself gagging as Madara starts squeezing his neck into his unforgiving grasp. 

“I know you were given your ‘master’ card early or whatever,” Madara flexes his free knuckles before encasing them into a fist. “But I’ve killed men who are faster than you.”

Lee takes three ruthless punches to the liver and he screams out. All he can do right now is take deep breaths while processing the deadliest hits he’s ever received.  You lose your breath at the sight, holding your necklace to delay any panicking. 

Knowing Madara won’t stop until he passes out, Lee roars to unleash more adrenaline and spreads his arms back. His palms are firm and flat as he swings them both towards Madara’s head, striking simultaneous blows to each of his ears. The older master growls irritantly as a painful ringing blocks out all noise, the newfound loss of balance loosens his grip on Lee’s neck.

“You little sh-” Lee frees himself and shuts Madara up with a spinning crescent kick to the mouth, causing some blood to spray on the mat- following up with a jumping front kick to the chin. It was the equivalent of a hammer smacking his face. The older warrior falls on his hands and uses them to propel himself back on his feet. He shuffles away to create some distance and re-evaluates his opponent.

“Beginner’s luck,” Madara spites.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Lee warns.

Might Guy and Neji watch the battle unfold beside you, taking in the scene with worried yet determined eyes.

“Lee may have more stamina than him,” Guy verifies with precaution. “But that man knows techniques that could render such an advantage completely useless.”

Neji sighs, “The only thing he can do is trust what he knows and adapt to his attacks.”

Lee feels a nasty bruise blooming on his stomach, but he pays it no mind- still refusing to take his eyes off Madara. The older man spits out some remaining blood and relaxes into a neutral stance with an ominously neutral facial expression. Lee’s eyes widen with alarm as he watches the man abandon his previous posture.

Why is he just standing now?

It’s just like the opponent Sasuke fought earlier...

Lee snaps out of his line of thinking and sprints towards Madara with fierce speed to charge a left hook to his chin. However, the older master already sees which shoulder he’s going to strike with and dodges accordingly. Lee tries a spinning backhand punch but Madara ducks that too.

He continues to swerve and evade every attack, watching the young opponent strain and gradually tire himself out. Madara predicts the velocity of Lee’s next strike and blocks it before trapping his arm in a compromising lock. Lee feels the master’s grip on his arm tighten uncomfortably and struggles to pull away until he hears a sudden pop.

Huh?

Lee’s elbow joint snaps in two from Madara’s merciless grip, causing the young master to shriek out a gut-wrenching holler.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Madara chuckles sadistically. “Let everybody see how sorry you are.”

You gasp in horror, covering your mouth as you back away- until you feel a firm grip on your wrist. You look down to see Might Guy’s stern, yet terrified gaze.

“He will be okay,” The veteran promises. “Do not lose hope, support him.”

The elder’s firm command lets you know he’s not asking, so you act accordingly. Sasuke feels veins popping in his forehead, barely able to contain his rage as he watches Madara pummel his beloved master so mercilessly that he’s forced to back up closer to the mat’s boundary. Madara charges a flying back kick to Lee’s chest and the concentrated force knocks Lee entirely off the platform. 

The young master expects his body to meet a cold, hard floor but is instead met with two warm bodies: Sasuke and Neji catch him with their arms before carefully sitting him on a nearby resting bench.

Guy immediately rolls his way to his student’s side, frowning with devastation at the sight of him: Lee has two black eyes, a broken nose leaking with blood, and a busted lip. Despite bringing your medical supplies, an inevitable sob comes creeping up your chest when you see his swollen face.

The referee approaches, “Do you still want to continue fighting?”

“Yes…” Lee’s hoarse voice has the volume of a whisper, so Guy has to confirm it to the referee for him.

“Three minutes,” concludes the referee.

“Three minutes?” You protest. “You tellin’ me I gotta clean his wounds, patch him up, and deal with a broken elbow in three minutes?!”

Neji opens a Gatorade bottle and pours some into Lee’s mouth. “Just stabilize his arm. That’s the only thing that needs immediate care.”

“He’s right.”

You look down to see the tender way Lee looks at you, even though he can barely see due to his injuries. The numbing pain in your chest makes you wince at this point.

“You can do it, baby,” he assures weakly. “You can do it… in half the time given.”

You huff out a shaky breath and wipe your tears, completely flabbergasted at how he can care for you so considerably in his current state. Before reaching for the bandages, your eyes widen in a panic.

Dammit! I don’t have a splint…

You look up and whip your head in opposite directions, scanning for anything— literally anything that could suffice for a makeshift splint. The gravity of this situation, on top of the ticking timer, gradually pushes you to the brink of insanity until you notice an old woman reading a newspaper.

That’s it!

You gulp and brace yourself for what you’re about to do before hastily walking towards the seated lady. As you approach her, she looks up at your towering figure with curious eyes. You kneel to meet her gaze.

“I’m so sorry for intruding, but can I use that newspaper?” You point back at Lee to guide her view. “That fighter’s elbow is broken and he needs something to immobilize it so he can keep fighting.”

The elder blinks in a puzzled daze, her jaw dropping to voice a protest. But you beat her to it.

“I’ll buy you a whole stack of ‘em after he wins,” you swear. “There’s not enough time for me to find anything else.”

The woman observes Lee’s semi-conscious state and the concerned comrades surrounding him. She reverts her gaze to you, feeling her chest soften at the desperate plea in your eyes. So, she grabs your hand and places the newspaper in it. 

“Make it count,” she orders with a cheeky grin. “I was just reading until the fight resumed anyway.”

You could cry at this stranger’s profound grace, but you waste no time and hurry your way to Lee’s side. You roll up the newspaper as firmly as possible and carefully place it along the inside of his arm. 

“Neji, I need you to hold this splint against his elbow. Be gentle.”

Neji nods his head, “On it.”

You unravel a roll of bandages and successfully wrap the fractured limb with Neji’s assistance.

“Lee,” Guy grabs his concussed student’s hand. “It’s time to take your weights off. It’s the only way you’ll end this fight.”

Guy signals Sasuke to roll up the hem of his pants. He has to remove each weight one at a time.

“Hmmm,” Madara hums knowingly. “Guess it’s time for the real battle.”

Lee’s head drops in shame, completely mortified that you and everyone he loves is seeing him in this way.

“How can I beat him?” Lee wheezes before coughing up some blood.

“How—”

“I need you to focus," Guy warns. “Look at me, son.”

Despite how much he feels like dying, the student uses all the strength he can muster to lift his head and face his master.

“Remember, all enemies hide their true motives behind something. Whether it be a facade or an idea. Destroy the facade, and you will break the enemy.”

Madara watches Guy whisper whatever useless information he knows his pathetic little student will believe. Lee takes deep breath after deep breath, allowing the circulation to send him back into the state of impeccable concentration he previously entered. 

“I’m done,” you mutter nervously after supporting his arm with a sling. “I did my best...”

Lee musters more energy to stand on his own and turns to you. 

“I know you did, angel,” Lee maneuvers his shoulder to test the security. “I can feel it.”

 The young master makes his way up to the platform and faces Madara once more.

“Are you ready for a second beating?” Madara taunts.

But Lee doesn’t respond, instead lowering his body into a ninety degree angle horse-stance. His broken arm is stiff and close to his stomach, while his healthy arm sits in front of his face. His index and middle finger extend from the fist in a sideways positioning.

Odd choice of the artform to any unfortunate soul who falls victim to it. Like any experienced master would, Madara senses a shift in the air. Lee’s breathing is calm and steady, for his ribs expand at a slower rate. Not a single thought behind his gaze. Madara’s eyes narrow with annoyance.

He’s getting serious.

“Well bring it on, fucker.” Madara challenges.

Lee jumps and twists his body into a spinning kick that pounds Madara’s neck at record-breaking speed, making his head recoil against the mat. Madara tries to get up in time, but is forced to roll away from Lee’s skull-cracking stomps. 

“Tch. I’ll be good goddamned if he ends this fight before I do.” Madara chides to himself.

The older warrior propels himself back on his feet, but that’s all he can do when Lee closes the distance once again, and jabs him repeatedly with two iron-clad knuckles to the jugular. Madara chokes on his own screech of pain: incapacitated throat blocking his airway.

Madara tightens his fists, sending an onslaught of bone-shattering punches Lee’s way. But the younger master evades each attack with unforeseen grace and flexibility, as if he’s just letting the opponent fight himself. Not only is his labored breathing audible, but Lee also sees his movements lack the speed they previously carried.

In an intense bout of brutality, Lee grabs a greedy handful of Madara’s dark tresses- holding his head in place to collide his rising knee with the old warrior’s face. He continues bashing the man’s nose in, driving in each knee strike with a carnal shout.

As soon as Madara begins to feel himself losing consciousness, he uses all the strength he can muster to block Lee’s next blow. In a split second, he sees a golden opportunity. He narrows his palm into the shape of a blade and lunges it right into Lee’s liver bruise– making him bellow out in devastation.

“AH FUCK--” Lee feels his entire body freeze with sudden agony before collapsing on the mat. 

Madara wastes no time and straddles Lee in his paralyzed state. He steadily wraps his hands around his neck, making sure to dig both thumbs into the larynx and squeezes. 

“Lee, please!” You cry out and shut your eyes, anything to look away from the horror unfolding before you.

Frightened whimpers and sobs echo through the children of the dojo. Orchid and Amanda hold each other through shared cries, while the older students drop their heads in shame. Might Guy and Neji fume in silence as they continue to watch the whole thing unravel. 

Madara watches the light drain from the young warrior’s eyes, and lowers his mouth until it's right by Lee’s ear. 

“Your sensei was my only equal,” Madara confesses. “So all you gotta do is tap. The mat.”

I… I can’t let it end this way.

Lee struggles and shoves his hand in Madara’s face, anything to delay the inevitable.

I have to fight for what’s mine…

Anything to delay the black spots forming in his blurred vision.

I have t-

Lee’s eyes rip open with a panicked gasp, watching Madara grin down at him sadistically. When taking a proper look at the older man, he couldn’t help but ask himself: Why is his right eye always covered with hair? What’s Madara so hellbent on hiding?

Destroy the facade, and you will break the enemy.

The young master stares into Madara’s left eye like it holds the secret to the universe, feeling his wrist bend and fingertips pinch into a hook. Like a snake, Lee’s healthy arm darts straight towards Madara’s face and gouges the eye until it’s plucked completely out of his socket.

The older man jumps off Lee in a mortal panic, screaming from the depths of his core once he realizes what’s been taken from him. He writhes on his back, trembling hands holding his face to cover the open wound.

Lee hacks up a few coughs as he rises to stand on his feet. His fingers drop the eyeball and let it fall to the mat, before thoroughly crushing the small organ with the sole of his foot.

“You’re right: my sensei is your only equal.” Lee takes a few steps closer to the emasculated man before lowering his legs and posture into the horse-stance.

“And that’s why he was able to take your eye. All I had to do was finish the job.”

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” Madara roars maniacally, scrambling pathetically to get up as more blood pours down his face.

“WHERE ARE YOU! YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD.”

Madara whips his head back to back, literally blinded by the physical trauma of permanently losing one of his senses. He raises his fists in front of him as a last line of hypervigilant defense, anything to delay the inevitable. Lee finishes Madara off with a celebratory war cry and jumping roundhouse kick to the chin, and his unconscious body hits the mat.

The entire crowd goes berserk: an impassioned audience of thousands witnessing history being made firsthand. The students cheer with intergenerational glee while you, Guy, and Neji feel like you’ve lost years of your lifespans.

Before the young master could even celebrate his victory, his body taps out: knees hitting the mat before everything turns to black.

This work belongs solely to ©️ blimbosworlddd. Do not plagiarize, steal, copy or repost. I worked very hard on this; reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated.

[sea-otter148]

One aspect of Night City I find really interesting in Cyberpunk 2077 is just how "alive" it feels, like it's a real city and you can go there. One thing that makes it more alive than other cities in other open world games is the Arasaka Memorial in Corpo Plaza. The design of this place is haunting. You're greeted with an Arasaka logo (the kind used for Arasaka public works projects like Konpeki Plaza) on a holographic sign whose borders are made of fissured concrete and rebar, reading:

2023

Arasaka Memorial

We shall never forget

Surrounding the memorial's main complex is a columbarium, which presumably houses the names and niches of the at least 12,000 known victims of the bombing of August 20, 2023. Inside the main complex is nothing short of breathtaking.

Beneath a tempered glass walkway and through the view of some windows, you see the ruins of the original lobby entrance to Arasaka Tower, buried in splintered stairs and balconies, shattered concrete, and mangled rebar and steel. On either side of the main causeway, recreated offices glow with an angry red virtual fire, the aftermath of the bombing. An automated announcement reminds visitors to show some respect at this site, this hallowed ground for Arasaka, this corporate Golgotha. The architecture of the Memorial is reminiscent of real world memorials to disasters, and I particularly see influence from the 9/11 Memorial and Museum in NYC, and the Nagasaki Peace Park in Nagasaki.

The stories told by some of the NPCs in conversations are no less harrowing. One woman tells the story of her grandfather who volunteered as a rescue worker at the site. The air, especially in the Time of the Red, must have been oppressive with smoke and fallout, the silence just as much were it not for the wind, the shuffling of stones, the search parties, the cries coming up from under the rubble. A classroom of children is on a field trip to the Memorial, their teacher apparently giving a history lesson, as the history, as murky as it is, still prevails despite neither of these people living through the event itself. A father attempts to console his child with the promise that their mother is in heaven, but the child says their friend's father is in Mikoshi and they can talk to him just fine. A Buddhist monk blesses one of the niches and offers some incense. What I find most interesting, however, is what isn't said, and that's by Johnny. Now, the Doylist explanation is that the devs didn't put in any lines for Johnny here, either because they couldn't come up with anything that was already said, or it would be kind of inappropriate to have a snarky comment at a very somber site. However, I think what's happening in universe is that Johnny, who seems to believe he did the bombing himself with little outside help (which, if you've played the TTRPG, isn't true), is forced to reckon with the weight of what he "did," and refuses to comment either because he'd come off like an even bigger asshole than he is, or he has to deal with 12,000 boxes of ashes around the Memorial, 12,000 names etched into metal plaques, 12,000 people who were just trying to have a good night in Night City, the city which doesn't offer happy endings, and never really did, 12,000 faces lost to time.

[mallylorelaimorningstar]

May I please ask for headcanons for the demon brothers reacting to MC having three best friends who remind them of Cerberus because they’re so protective of MC.

Oh my god! My first ask in months!!!!! Yes! I'd be happy to write that!

𝕷𝖚𝖈𝖎𝖋𝖊𝖗:

He's confused at first and a little sad, all of a sudden, you don't have any time to spare for him and he can't help but feel a sense of abandonment.

He, for lack of a better word/words, stalks you. But not by himself of course, though, he did have a part to play in it.

Because he won't get his perfect gloved hands dirty, he enlists the help of mammon and Asmodeus.

With Mammon's known jealousy and possessiveness over you, coupled with Asmodeus' knowledge of everyone in the Devildom, he figures out who it is that's been taking up all your time.

He goes from confused, to relieved, to livid. Who cares take you from him?

His confusion has been cleared and he was relieved that you had friends who were willing to protect you, but now.... He's pissed off because you never told him about these people.

He didn't understand why you'd need anyone else but him or his brothers and he desperately needed to figure it out.

After managing to corner and confront you, he drags you into his bedroom and gives you a seriously long lecture about trust and reliability, which you may or may not have fallen asleep during.

His speech goes on for hours. He had gotten so into it, he didn't ever realize you had passed out.

He sighs in frustration and picks you up. He didn't dare do much, he just placed you in his bed to sleep for the night while he went to "politely" give a "talking to" to the new friends of yours who strangely reminded him of his three headed dog that he kept down stairs.

Ⓜⓐⓜⓜⓞⓝ:

He sighed in frustration as he walked into your room. He was already irritated because of his brothers but now, upon seeing your room empty, he was dumbfounded.

Where in the Devildom were you? He searched through your room and then proceeded to look around the House of Lamentation.

There was only an hour before dinner and he'd hoped to get some "Private MC time" to himself before then. When he couldn't find you, he consulted all the brothers besides Lucifer.

He knew how irate and furious Lucifer would be if his work time was disturbed, So, Mammon left to search for you himself.

He consulted Lord Diavolo and Barbados but the hadn't seen you either.

He ran around the Devildom like a chicken with his head cut off until eventually, he saw you at a cafe laughing with three demon guys.

He grew pissed as he started over to your small group. He interrupted you and told your friends a half lie in order to drag you off.

Like Lucifer, he lectured you but he was moreso upset with himself for not being enough for you.

After hearing your explanation, because yes, he did hear you out, he felt relieved because you had other friends now but he also made it known that he refused to be replaced, he was your first man after all.

lҽѵíαԵհαղ:

Things with Leviathan run as normally with you as they would your human world friends, he wasn't overly ovssessive but he was envious, as per normal given what he represents.

It was in the middle of the day, while the brothers were at RAD, he sat in his room.

But instead of doing his work for his virtual classes, he was playing his games on his PC.

Levi got a message from Asmodeus, it was a photo of you and a small group of three guys. He felt confused because he was unsure as to why Asmo would send that photo of you.

He then quickly became envious because of course he wasn't the one sitting next to you, of course it was three other demons who looked very dark and mysterious.

Levi started to revert to his normal tendencies, calling himself an Otaku and believing quickly that of course you'd replace him.

He didn't know those guys we're your friends, all he could feel was abandoned and upset, not just at you but also at himself.

And he also noticed just how close the demons were to you, the looked very protective of you and sat so close. He started to feel reminded of another creature who was always so protective of you.

Lucifer's three headed mutt in the basement, aka Cerberus.

Instead of interrogating you though like Lucifer and Mammon, he avoided you. He didn't want to interrupt any time you had with your new friends.

ႽმႵმႶ:

One of the only demons who seemed totally indifferent to your friendships with the demons.

He did consider himself close to you in a way, but more as a man acquaintance more than a friend.

He had a pact with you and he cared for you but after finding out about the friends, he was relieved as well. He did a deep dive and his own research on the friends you have.

After consulting reluctantly with Lucifer and Lord Diavolo, he found out these demons were safe for you to be around.

He did his own research and was there reading even as you talked to him with excitement about your friends, he smiled at your enthusiasm, he found it strange that you were so comfortable being around demons but he didn't mind too much since it was your life and your choice.

He wished you luck and happiness with your new friends but he also assured you he'd be there if you needed him.

After watching the reactions of his brothers, he was definitely amused. The prospect of Lucifer being so upset by the revelation filled him with the most glee, though, he'd never tell you that.

ඞᔑᙏOᙃᙓᙀᔑ:

As the demon of Lust, he wasn't too bothered by your new friends.

He's happy you have them but will not be enthused if you abandon him.

And because Asmo knows almost everyone in the Devildom, he knew about the guys you were friends with because he himself introduced them to you.

In fact, he imputed himself into that friend group with you and the guys. He noticed how as you and the guys grew closer, they grew more protective of you.

He also began to think of Cerberus, the huge 3 headed adorable puppy in the basement. He knew Cerberus loved you and the guys that he hung out with along with you, they reminded him of Cerberus.

Asmo enjoyed the chaos that came with the new guys in your life, he couldn't help but be amused with how much his brothers acted as if they possessed you. He wasn't the best at hiding just how funny he found it either.

He could be also be very possessive because he knew just how much you meant to him but seeing you with your new friends only made him happy.

You hanging out with the guys always have him a reason to go shopping too, not just for himself but for you, your friends, and Cerberus.

𝙱𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚣𝚎𝚋𝚞𝚋:

Like Satan and Asmodeus, Beelzebub was also unbothered. He spent time with you Asmo, and those guys.

Beelzebub was actually popular among the group too, they guys loved when he'd go out with the group. Watching him eat happily even if it was a lot, it was funny to the guys.

One of them was also closer to Beelzebub because he was one of the team mates that Beelzebub played Fangol with.

He never minded your friends because when I'd they were demons, he never complained when getting to spend time with you or getting food.

Beelzebub was also okay with it because he got to hang out with Asmo. Even if he didn't always make it known, he admired his older brother. He likes the shopping trips just as much as you and your friends.

He still enjoyed hanging out with his other brothers and Belphie but he enjoyed being in your friend group as well.

Beel himself acted like a puppy dog. He was a hungry man who acted like a golden retriever, like you, he also had a bond with Cerberus so when he saw just how close you got with you, he immediately connected the dots.

The friends when introduced to Cerberus seemed to love him immediately and their affection was returned by Cerberus too.

ꃳꏂ꒒ꉣꁝꏂꍌꄲꋪ:

One important thing about Belphie, If something didn't apply to him, he didn't care.

When he caught wind of you hanging out with other demons, he had to wonder if you were crazy.

Belphie was not a human loving demon by any means but he made an exception for you because you are Lilith's descendant. You two weren't close but he did care for you somewhat.

He was known to always be sleeping in his classes so when Satan woke him up and showed him the photo that Asmo took, he was more shocked than anything.

Belphie already found it preposterous that you'd grown close to Cerberus and he was shocked when seeing you and the 3 headed dog snuggling, so imagine his surprise upon seeing the three protective demons huddled around you.

He wasn't a possessive demon by any means either, so even though he was quite shocked, he eventually just did not care. As long as his naps weren't interrupted, you were free to do whatever you wished.

And like Satan, watching Lucifer come undone by the revelation, it gave him a little bit of joy. He couldn't help but enjoy how unhappy Lucifer was.

Despite his innitial shock, he grew mostly uninterested in your new friend group. Even though Beelzebub was a part of it, he didn't want to be a part of it himself.

(This took me awhile to do, I was up all night doing it. I'm sorry if I didn't do it the way you would have preferred but I hope you like it. @crazyyanderefangirlfan )

[thesleepdeity]

“I was born knowing you.”

[[ Miquella’s other half, the one who represents his compassion and love for all that surrounds him. This dynamic is born from the desire to roleplay without bending the original Elden Ring lore. This is not canon nor do I pretend it to be. Not DLC canon. ]]

━─━────༺༻────━─━

☆゜・。TRINA’S BACKSTORY (NC)

Saint Trina was born out of Miquella's desire to have some independence while still being inside the cocoon.

Being an almost exact copy of Miquella the Kind's appearance, Saint Trina quickly gained a large number of followers thanks to their unknown nature coming from ancient deities already forgotten. Saint Trina had the power to enter the dreams of those they pursued and induce sleep in those who refused to sleep. Mothers prayed them to put their babies to sleep, merchants spoke to them in gratitude, even the animals recognized the usual purple smoke and lilies they left at their feet whenever they appeared.

However, Saint Trina suddenly disappeared from the Lands Between, leaving behind their entourage without any explanation as to why. This was because Miquella the Kind was ripped from the cocoon of the Haligtree, causing his body to die, even though he was put into another cocoon shortly thereafter: Miquella the Kind's soul disappeared, and therefore, so did Saint Trina.

☆゜・。TRINA’S DYNAMIC

(If you haven't read Miquella's dream palace post, do it before reading this section).

Saint Trina is the female counterpart of Miquella and all that his Age of Compassion means: love, kindness, tenderness.

Although many believe that Saint Trina and Miquella are the same person, and they are somewhat right about that, Saint Trina has absolute independence. Their personality and memories are different from Miquella's, so they can be considered a separate person, even though they are half of Miquella's soul. Saint Trina's feelings may be very different from the feelings of their male counterpart.

However, they cannot move at the same time.

Saint Trina moves from Miquella's energy. When Miquella rested in his cocoon, Saint Trina had freedom of movement, and when Miquella died and ended up in the dream palace, Saint Trina also went with him.

They cannot move at the same time: Miquella's energy is not infinite and trying to control a body when your own is awake is like seeing two realities interposed on top of each other. Saint Trina is independent, but still depends on Miquella for many things.

For those who role-play with Miquella, they can find Saint Trina sleeping nearby, while those who role-play with Saint Trina can find Miquella sleeping, although he prefers to hide so as not to be seen.

Saint Trina's voice can only be heard by a few, because it is omniscient. They sounds in the minds of others while their mouth does not move, which creates an effect that can be frightening to those who are not used to it.

Attention: both share memories and Saint Trina is the only one who can enter and exit the dream palace.

☆゜・。THE PURPOSE

Both received considerable damage when Miquella the Kind died.

Miquella has discovered that merging the two is now virtually impossible due to that damage, which means they will be two different people until it can be solved.

Due to Miquella's plans to ascend to godhood, called The Purpose, the search for a method to merge the two has been put on hold until another time. Miquella's priority is to ascend. Saint Trina's priority is to wait.

☆゜・。OTHERS

— Even though Saint Trina is AFAB, they use they/them and she/her pronouns.

— Saint Trina can enter in dreams, see you in the dream palace or follow you in reality if you have an object of theirs (for example, a lily).

— They don't technically have family. Being a deity is extremely lonely, unfortunately.

— Saint Trina has no real sense of what personal space is because they are often guided by instincts, as they are the most instinctual part of Miquella. This doesn't mean that Miquella can't feel love or can't be kind: it just means that the core parts of it are no longer inside him.

— Animal friend.

— Consider yourself lucky if they use their few words with you! Saint Trina is very cautious even with their own kind.

If you want to roleplay with Saint Trina or talk about hcs, send me a message! Don't be afraid<3

[protected-and-loved-by-castiel]

A reader asked: Why are there so many Autistic people with narcissistic parents?

Before I get into this topic, here's a content warning. If it helps you feel safe to vilify and dehumanize people with narcissistic behaviors, then you may want to skip this post. I'm here to humanize people, including people with NPD! (And neurotypicals too but that's a topic for another day)

If a compassionate understanding of what causes narcissistic behaviors is likely to trigger you, you can stop reading here. Debate is not welcome on this page: you're of course welcome to disagree, but you don't need to tell me if you disagree.

So, why do so many Autistic people have narcissistic parents? Why do narcissistic traits seem more common in families that also have Autism, ADHD, & HSP neurotypes?

My response: Narcissism is a misguided defense mechanism against overwhelm. NPD is a form of C-PTSD. Narcissistic behaviors can often conceal other forms of neurodivergence.

Parents of Autistics are extremely likely to be Autistic or ADHD themselves because of genetics. I have SO MANY ND peers who have narcissistic parents who are undiagnosed Autistics.

Most people who learned to use narcissistic strategies to feel safe are themselves Autistic, ADHD, or some other form of sensitive neurotype. People who are not as neurally sensitive don't experience such severe reactions to lack of control.

A common core wound in this trauma pattern is experiencing emotional abandonment throughout childhood while having external needs abundantly met. Sensitive ND children who have everything they need EXCEPT emotional connection and co-regulation tend to develop either BPD or NPD depending on their socialization and predisposition.

To use a popular example, Trump grew up with unsupported ADHD and an abusive father, so he learned to use extreme control of others to feel safe. Narcissistic behaviors are subconsciously triggered fight responses that are typically aimed at controlling relational or sensory environments.

To be clear, saying it's a trauma response does not excuse harm! If we hurt someone in a fight response, we are still responsible. If our trauma responses are harming people, we must seek help to integrate the trauma response.

"Narcissists can't heal" is a myth that comes from the fact that the resources necessary for a narcissistic person to heal do not yet exist in most of the world. People with NPD CAN heal if they are supported enough to learn how to use other strategies for building safety in their nervous system. Most professionals refuse clients who have this diagnosis because they aren't trained well enough to be able to help without becoming targets for harmful behavior themselves.

The complex trauma explanation of NPD is one that I learned from ND people who have a NPD diagnosis, are aware of their patterns, and are trying to heal but face enormous challenges around accessing help. "Nothing about us without us" applies to people with NPD as much as any other form of neurodivergence.

Occasionally, people who have experienced relational abuse get really mad at me for saying that people with NPD are neurodivergent or that their lived experience perspective is valuable just like any other group within the neurodivergent umbrella.

I believe stigmatization of narcissistic behaviors actually perpetuates the social conditions necessary for narcissism to thrive. It has been really helpful for my own healing to separate the abuse I experienced from the innate neurodivergence of the people who hurt me.

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🦎My 8-week virtual study group is a place we can discuss topics like this with neurodivergent community. Lesson topics: A Paradigm Shift, ND Nervous Systems, Mechanisms of Trauma, Sensory Trauma, Burnout and Other ND Trauma Responses, Dynamic Disability and Systemic Trauma, Individual Healing, Collective Healing. Enrollment is open for a few more weeks. Details here: https://traumageek.thinkific.com/courses/neurodiversity-and-trauma-study-group-3

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Details here: https://traumageek.thinkific.com/courses/50-vagus-exercises-in-a-year

[perpetual-fool]

-

Ostensibly I'm asking for help, but I know that's not gonna happen so I guess I'm just sharing.

I pretty frequently have daymares and I don't think they're ever going to stop. They basically all go: malicious misunderstanding (optional), violence, more violence, more more violence. Because that's just what people do, it's what they are. It probably from my experience in elementary school. In adult terms, my memory of it is that I was assaulted virtually every day. That's not accurate, I'm sure it wasn't literally every day. The threat was though, anyone, anywhere, any time. If I fought back, I was punished, if I ran away, I was punished. Be tortured or be punished, and if you don't fake the right emotions in response I'll punish you anyway. I didn't even have the courtesy of it being wrongly acknowledged with a "boys will be boys" or something. Nothing is happening and you're wrong and you should suffer.

The other children tormenting me only stopped after puberty, I got too big to push around. The adults, never. In college a teacher 'expelled' (not the term) me from her class without ever telling me anything about what was going on. Her supervisor also refused to tell me anything, only interrogating me after I kept asking about it. Went to a handful of psychs, all relentless with the gaslighting. Is brainwashing actually, literally their job? And ya' know, the constant invalidation from absolutely everyone. It's tempting to look at singular interactions and think "that went okay, maybe communication is possible". And that just never, never, never, never works.

So, maybe I can rewrite my own sense of morality, at least silence the voice in my head that keeps telling me I deserve to die. And maybe I can create a reasonable explanation for why everyone is so horrible. But I still live in a world of monsters. And I will always live in a world of monsters.

I would prefer to not. Or at least, I'd prefer to not fall into anxiety-spirals about it.

[percystreak]

Title: Scammed Out of $20,000: Betcoin.ag and Playbetr.com Exposed

In a saga of deceit and betrayal, Betcoin.ag and Playbetr.com have swindled me out of $20,000, leaving me stranded and furious. It all began innocently enough in March 2022 when I opened an account on Betcoin.ag and deposited $1,000. Over the next year, I engaged in sporadic sports betting, primarily focusing on football and basketball. Dissatisfied with Betcoin.ag's low betting limits, I ventured onto Playbetr.com on December 31, 2022, hoping for better luck and higher limits. Initially depositing $4,000, I eventually added another $1,000-$2,000 to my Playbetr account, mirroring similar transactions on Betcoin.ag, bringing my total deposits across both platforms to approximately $7,000-$8,000 in BTC.

My betting endeavors, predominantly in NBA games on Playbetr, yielded a mixed bag of losses and wins. However, the real nightmare began when I attempted to withdraw my earnings—a modest 0.65 BTC from Playbetr and 0.21 BTC from Betcoin.ag. Suddenly, both platforms demanded Know Your Customer (KYC) verification, including sensitive documents like my driver's license, selfies, and address proof. I promptly complied, believing it to be routine.

To my shock, the next day, access to both accounts was abruptly cut off. Attempts to log in proved futile, and when access was granted sporadically, all account functionalities were disabled. I received chilling emails from Betcoin.ag and Playbetr.com, accusing me of fraudulent activities and unilaterally terminating my account while suspending payouts. Their audacity reached new heights when they nonchalantly offered to refund my deposits—a mere insult considering the substantial losses inflicted upon me.

Adding insult to injury, my pleas for explanation fell on deaf ears. Since January 3, 2023, my emails have gone unanswered, and live chat support has been a paragon of unhelpfulness, robotically instructing me to "email for more information." It's infuriating to witness Playbetr.com boasting about transparency and fairness in online forums while callously disregarding my plight and that of numerous others.

The alleged fraudulent activities levied against me—syndicate play, match-fixing, late betting, and more—are baseless and ludicrous. Their list of accusations includes everything from arbitrage to money laundering, none of which I have committed or even contemplated. My betting was confined to NBA games, a market renowned for its stringent regulations and virtually impossible to manipulate due to its high-profile status and extensive oversight.

I refuse to be another statistic of their fraudulent machinations. While they revel in their impunity, I am resolved to pursue legal recourse, even if it means engaging Curacao courts and legal professionals. Their brazen disregard for fairness and justice cannot go unchallenged. I demand accountability and restitution for the $20,000 they callously robbed from me, tarnishing their reputations beyond repair.

For those who doubt my claims, here is the undeniable evidence:

Proof of my withdrawal requests showing 0.85 BTC held hostage: Gyazo Link, Gyazo Link

Screenshots of legitimate NBA bets won on Playbetr: Gyazo Link, Gyazo Link

Video evidence of Playbetr account lockout post-emails: YouTube Link

Video proof demonstrating my minimal activity on Playbetr pre-December 30, 2022: YouTube Link

In summary:

A staggering $20,000 lost due to their scam tactics.

Accounts abruptly blocked on January 3, 2023, following legitimate withdrawal requests.

Zero violations of any betting rules or regulations.

Utter silence in response to repeated attempts to contact them.

No substantiated explanation or evidence provided to justify their actions.

I eagerly await a response from Betcoin.ag and Playbetr.com. Justice must prevail.

[paulatugah]

Robbed Blind: Betcoin.ag and Playbetr.com Scammed Me Out of $20,000

In March 2022, I created an account on Betcoin.ag and deposited $1,000. For the past year, I have been betting on sports, mainly football and basketball. The betting limits on Betcoin.ag were not very high, so I also opened an account on Playbetr.com, a sister website, on December 31, 2022, which offered higher limits. My first deposit on Playbetr was $4,000, and I later deposited another $1,000-$2,000. Similarly, I deposited another $1,000 on Betcoin.ag, totaling around $7,000-$8,000 in BTC across both sites. Initially, I had no issues and was mainly betting on NBA games on Playbetr. Despite losing initially, I eventually won some bets on both sites.

However, when I attempted to withdraw my winnings—0.65 BTC from Playbetr and 0.21 BTC from Betcoin—both sites requested KYC verification. I provided full KYC, including my driving license, selfies, and address proof. My accounts were fully verified, but the next day, I was unable to log in to either site. Even when I could log in, I had no access to any account features. Both sites emailed me, accusing me of fraudulent actions and claiming the right to terminate my account and suspend payouts. They even offered to return my deposits, which I found laughable.

I have seen this happen to more people. They closed my accounts without explanation or evidence and ignored me for weeks. Despite emailing them since January 3, 2023, I have received no replies. Live chat support directed me to email for more information, offering no help. Playbetr, in particular, claims to be transparent and fair in public forums, but my experience tells a different story.

I want to understand why I have been scammed out of 0.85 BTC, almost $20,000. The accusations against me include syndicate play, match-fixing, late betting, unfaithful strategies, arbitrage, fraudulent actions, chargebacks, cheating, incorrect registration information, bankruptcy, money laundering, and using devices or software to place bets. They have not explained how I committed any of these actions. I am certain I did not. I only bet on NBA games, one of the biggest markets in the world, where cheating is virtually impossible due to the large limits.

I refuse to let this be ignored. I am willing to take legal action and pay any amount to resolve this. It's laughable they offered to return my deposits but ignored me when I mentioned it. I have seen other users contact Curacao courts and lawyers, and I am prepared to do the same. I will not let these scumbags get away with scamming innocent players.

Here are some links proving my claims:

Proof of my withdrawal requests: Gyazo Link, Gyazo Link

Screenshots of bets I won on Playbetr (FAIR, NORMAL NBA BETS): Gyazo Link, Gyazo Link

Video of me trying to access my Playbetr account after receiving the emails: YouTube Link

Video of me showing a conversation with a friend, proving I did not use Playbetr until before December 30, 2022: YouTube Link

Long story short:

Total amount 0.85 BTC (deposits + profits)

Accounts were blocked on January 3, 2023, after requesting withdrawals (over a month ago)

I did not break any rules

No reply on live chat or email (getting ignored)

No explanation or evidence to back up the accusations

[astelldreemurr]

Sistertale - Chapter 2: Return

Sis...

The last word continued to echo inside my head. Caught off guard by this little surprise while trying to take in my surroundings, I could do nothing but blink in confusion. Only after the boy embraced me was I shaken out of my daze and back into reality.

"I've missed you so much," he said, on the verge of crying.

I was at a loss, nervously looking around for an explanation. I peered at the girl over the boy's shoulder, who was wiping her eyes on the back of her hands. The boy finally burst into tears, almost losing his balance and holding onto me for support.

It was more than enough to bemuse me that a stranger started calling me “sis” and acted as if I were someone close to him. I didn’t want to upset him or anything, however, even if we were not related. Nevertheless, traces of discomfort and unease started to rise from the depths of my mind.

The boy’s weeping eventually ceased and he unhugged me.

"Come on, Astell. Mom's not going to believe this! She'll be so glad!" He said, taking my hand and setting off so abruptly that I stumbled.

I held back, and the boy's hand lost its grip on mine. The boy turned to look at me, now looking confused himself.

"Astell?" He called, "We're... going home. What's the matter?"

I slowly backed away from the two, covering the hand the boy pulled on with the other. The boy looked at the girl worriedly, then eyed me once more.

"Sis, it’s me..." said the boy, carefully approaching me and spreading out his arms, "Your brother, Asriel."

I timidly shook my head instead of answering him, looking at him in the eyes while keeping my head down. It was the most polite way I could express my refusal. I hated to break his heart, and he had virtually brought me back to life, but that didn’t change the fact that he was a stranger. It didn’t help that he was calling me “sis,” either. I quickly looked away from the boy’s moist, bright green eyes, unable to assert myself any longer.

“I... I don’t understand,” muttered the boy, holding out his hand at me, “it’s like she... doesn’t recognize me.”

I noticed that the girl’s expression had stiffened when I took a glimpse at her. Her brows furrowed, her eyelids curiously veiling her emotion and the thoughts within.

“What do we do, Frisk?” Asked the boy, his astonishment presumably subsiding.

“Huh?” exclaimed the girl, as if breaking out from a trance, “Oh sorry, you were saying?”

“Astell,” said the boy, “Something’s not right with her...”

As the two discussed my problem, I looked back at the scenery again. The ocean of green was fading into a lake of darkness, and the shadows were growing all around us like pitch-black fingers trying to snatch the three of us away. I turned my attention to the path we were about to take, and vast woods came into view, a strange site. A place of numerous possibilities, not all of them leading to desirable consequences. The risks of staying behind appeared to outweigh the benefits even further considering that I was a little girl, vulnerable to what might not be as perilous to a grown-up. It didn't take long for me to conclude that I'd have to choose the lesser evil out of the two.

I slowly approached my saviors, fiddling anxiously.

“You’re right,” said the boy eventually, nodding and turning to face me. He knelt on the ground, his eyes level with mine, which shined with determination.

The moment he held my hands in his, I could feel the fur on my arm stand on its end, barely resisting my instincts telling me to flee instantaneously.

“I understand that you’re confused, sis. You might not recognize me, but I’ve come all the way here for one sole purpose: to rescue you. I, along with my friend here, give you our word that we will protect you at all costs. You have to trust us, Astell.”

His voice was firm, and his clear green eyes stared into mine passionately. Stunned at his abrupt change of posture, I considered his words and the situation thoroughly. Bits of fear and hesitation still lingered in my mind, but after a moment of contemplation, I finally gave a slight nod.

The boy’s stern, solemn look relaxed into the same warm smile he wore when he saw me wake from my slumber.

“Let’s get going then,” he said, “before we all get lost in the dark.”

I took his hand, despite the remaining awkwardness, and the three of us ventured into the darkening woods.

​

“Did she never talk before?” Asked the girl as we navigated through the labyrinth shaded by trees overhead.

“For some reason, no,” answered the boy, “Even the doctors couldn’t tell us why, but we loved her nonetheless.”

I heeded the ongoing conversation in hopes of finding out who I am and used to be. It appeared that I grew up in a delightful family, of which I seemed to have no memory. Just hearing such tales aroused in me a flick of excitement and joy, but the sorrow for being unable to remember them weighed me down at the same time.

"Here we are, sis," said the boy, drawing the last drapes of boughs and twigs open, through which I spotted patches of light glimmering on the other side.

At the foot of the mountain were dozens of small houses clustered together, forming a sizable but cozy village. I had to make a significant effort to take the entire scenery in, but my field of view wasn’t wide enough. The houses threw warm gazes at us through their lit windows. People came and went, greeting the boy and the girl while eyeing me with great curiosity and interest. Some patted our heads or rustled our hair, and others stretched out their palms at us for us to slap. The whole surrounding was a site unfamiliar to me, but I had a strange feeling that I was welcome here. It was as though the village was letting me in for its welcoming embrace holding all its people.

“Hey sis, you wouldn’t mind if we dropped by a place before heading home, would you?” Said the boy as we neared the heart of the village.

I felt like an alarm abruptly went off in my brain telling me that I should have thought thrice before putting my faith in strangers. I had to make large efforts to calm the doubtful voices in my head, reminding myself that trusting them was my choice and it was the best option I had. Hiding my anxiety, I followed the boy and the girl to a massive pair of gates. Beyond them was a vast garden full of flowers and the largest building I had seen so far around the village. The girl pressed a button on the gate, which was followed by a buzzing noise. A deep but affable voice responded after a short while.

“Howdy! Is there anything I can do for you?”

“It’s us, Dad! We thought we might stop by... We also have a surprise with us,” the boy answered cheerily.

“Asriel, my boy! And Frisk too, I presume? Of course, you’re always welcome. Come in.”

The gates creaked open to reveal a path lined up by walls of flowers leading straight to the building. As we strolled through the blossoms, I noticed light spread out onto the garden path like a carpet. It was emanating from the open doorway, silhouetting a tall, stocky figure approaching us. The moment I saw it, I felt my insides do a sudden flip. Every single strand of fur covering my body stood on its end. My heart felt like it froze to a halt for a second, and then it started to race as though telling me to take an immediate flight. Even with a great part of my memory concealed beneath layers of murk, I recognized at once the bulk and the long, curved horns protruding from its head. My legs gave way and buckled, and I fell on my backside as the distance between the silhouette and me shortened. I frantically scuttled away from it, turning over and crawling on all fours before managing to lift myself back up and sprinting off.

It was the devil from my nightmares.​

https://www.wattpad.com/1414207155-sistertale-chapter-2-return

The second chapter of my journal is out! :33333

[batteredwarriorstillstanding]

Not pointing angry fingers, or ruffling feathers here, but there is no doubt that clarification is desperately needed on a few points. In order to avoid a further decline in understanding, which can lead to all sorts of unpleasant outcomes, it appears necessary to address them whether this task was at the top of anyone's Hope List, or not. I DID make a multitude of promises to you. TECHNICALLY, the commitments I made are not active. That's true, buuuut, frankly, these were not the "I shot my mouth off in the heat of a particular moment, but failed to consider future circumstances and how they may very well render these assurances worthless. While this was not an intentional error, I apologize and take full responsibility for my lack of maturity and foresite. I sincerely hope that no great harm will be done as a result, but pledge to do whatever is in my power to remedy any subsequent troubles my mistake may cause or assist." Those suck...can't say I have never been guilty of them. This isn't anything like that, however. Every guarantee I made was one of continued support/friendship. If I recall, I was troubled by your claim that virtually everyone who enters your life eventually leaves. You posted this repeatedly, so I assumed that it was a very serious issue that causes a lot of pain. I replied something to the effect of "I won't leave...even if our relationship never reaches a point that is satisfactory to me." Now, admittedly, I did not consider, at the time that, amongst all possible outcomes, at least one featured us never seeing one another (2005...I think.Seriously) your refusal to meet, speak to, or even exchange IMs with me. You're right. I am not going to continue to post face-first against my blog wall ad-infinitum...I am skeptical that you can possibly receive much from that, for one. Secondly, it is difficult for me because it serves as a reminder that you don't actually want shit to do with me.....and the "be patient" line has kind of expired.

ALSO.....and, I don't know if this comes mainly from you or what, buuut....when I said that I was not willing to be in an"open" relationship....at least not for very long....with someone I love, it was, again, to let you know that I care a lot about you, am not a "total" monogamy enthusiast, buuut....rest assured, you wouldn't just be doing whatever/whoever the fuck you felt like (nor would I)That sucks if it is incompatible with your philosophy, that sucks (btw, it is this sort of thing that CONVERSATIONS often assist in resolving...maybe I'd see things your way if given the opportunity to become completely familiar with it. Who knows?) But, I certainly would not feel right allowing anyone to be mislead only to endure a painful breakup of a relationship that probably never should have happened. Anyway, disappointments aside, knowing you in ant capacity still sounded awesome...and I have gotten much better at Platonic Guy role of late. I don't have ANY fuckin' idea where THIS came from...if I made a comment, at some point that was misinterpreted, I am sorry....the skin color of my prospective "co-workers" would not be an issue...just that they aren't me. And I think your ideas concerning WHY I avoid these situations are....just unbelievably ridiculous...it isn't due to an inferiority complex, or whatever the dumb ass explanation I sometimes read says....it's that I am not putting all kinds of effort into a relationship unless that effort is reciprocated....and, I don't always share or play well with others. Sorry. It shouldn't matter anyway....you won't even talk to me.

[eievuimultimuse]

     AT CLEO’S WORDS regarding Hob, he let out a laugh that rattled his body. The ache in his abdomen reminded him that it was still very much there when he did, prompting him to rest a hand over his bandages. Still, it was pretty funny.  “ I suppose I shouldn’t have believed anything less. Knowing you, you’d have kicked his ass for even trying. “

     Although she jokes, ‘Fly shrugs his shoulders.  “ He was trained t’ be a soldier. Thankfully, so was I. ‘Least we were equal in that regard. “  And he doesn’t wanna say it out loud, because he knows it’ll sound as stupid as nearly getting himself killed, but he’s GLAD it was him that fought him. Manray might not have been the STRONGEST enemy Superfly had to face, but he was certainly up there. Given that he himself was built virtually like a tank, the fly mutant at least knew that he had better chances of enduring that battle. He dared not imagine if anyone else had tried to face him.  ( Well…anyone other than the guy who bailed him out. But there’s been a silent agreement not to discuss that fact, and ‘Fly has no intention of being the first to break the silence. )  In any case, when she pats his shoulder, an appreciative smile graces his features, earning her a thankful nod. However, it soon fades as she inquires about Manray’s…motivations, the fly’s brows raising slightly.

     “ Ah… “  Even without pupils, one could sense him averting his gaze thoughtfully, trying to find a way to piece this whole mess together for someone out of the loop. After all, his answer likely won’t make sense without a bit of explanation first. It’s easier said than done…but he can certainly try. “ Well, there was never really much to report about him until now, “  he starts, taking a moment to gently shift in the bed so that he could sit up a little straighter. He spoke the truth; the ray’s presence was quieter and more subtle than that of his fellow members. That, of course, never made him any less dangerous, but it had made him one of the LAST people that anyone would suspect would go off the rails as he did. Even ‘Fly, who always had his own opinion and never fully trusted him, didn’t envision him turning against Hob as violently as he had.

     “ I’m not sure how much you heard about, ah…the disagreement going on amongst my family and Hob’s. About the whole…mutants and humans thing. “  And for her sake, he really hoped she hadn’t heard the full extent of it. Or if she did, that she wouldn’t blame Hob too harshly for any stances he’d taken in what was ultimately a movement fueled with desperation and grief. He was never big on humans, but this…this had just taken things too far.  “ But that’s basically the root of where this all started. Hob had been crystal clear about his plan, and Manray didn’t hide that he was gonna stick by his decision. The guy’s always been his right-hand, so there was no surprise there. “

     “ But Hob…dammit, “  he hisses quietly. He lifts his head, his eyes meeting hers, and he shakes his head as he says,  “ He didn’t wanna hurt anybody. I knew that the whole time. He didn’t, he’d just— LOST someone, and he was takin’ it out on the wrong people, and— “ He pauses to shut his eyes and sigh, remaining like that for a moment before continuing.  “ Anyway, to get to the point, I’d finally talked a bit of sense in ‘im. Only, I didn’t realize he’d changed his mind until he was just about to pull the trigger on all those people. I don’t think he knew he’d changed his mind ‘til then, either. “

     “That was when Manray attacked him, “  he said, finally arriving at the crux of the question.  “ From what I could gather from his rants while he preoccupied himself with trying to beat the shit out of me, he’d felt that Hob betrayed their cause by tryin’ to back down. Felt that the optimal move at that point was to take ‘im out then finish what Hob had started. “  He let out a small huff before adding,  “ Called me a traitor too, just ‘cause I refused to take their side. Accused me of makin’ Hob weak…and hell, I tried to tell ‘im that what he was doing wasn’t gonna help their cause at all. That he can’t just CHANGE THE WORLD by hurtin’ innocent people. But, y’know, he obviously wasn’t open to discussion at that point. “

" NO, BUT YOU know damn well ah' ain't gon' let'cha off easily on this one, bucko. " A lighthearted tease, though she had a feeling they both shared the knowledge that that was fully the truth, too, and that she, in fact, was NOT going to stop pestering him about it, even long after this whole Manray problem was dealt with.

" YEAH. WHAT, YOU think Hob's allowed ta' just die on us like that ? You think ah' wouldn't drag his ass back outta the ferryman's boat and back inta' the livin' world if he tried ? " Her tone remained light and jovial, carried a bit of a cocky flair to it. Seems like she was picking up Mikey's joke form of comfort. It worked for the moment, at least -- the last thing 'Fly needed right now was constant negativity, it wasn't the right mindset for someone to be in while recovering.

" YOU BETTER HAVE, Big Blue. Ah' woulda' sent yer ass back ta' training if you hadn't at least somewhat fucked 'em up. You did us good guys PROUD. " She patted his shoulder with her free hand, the other resting 'pon the hat on her lap. Going silent for a moment, Cleo took the chance to ponder something before she spoke again.

" ...WHAT THE FUCK did he even want ? The ray, ah' mean. Ah' ain't heard much 'sides him goin' postal on you guys an' threatenin' people. "

[honeyed-latte]

Something that is so overlooked in Like Minds (2006) is the irrefutable fact that Nigel was being sexually abused by his mother and, likely, physically abused by his father.

So here's my comprehensive breakdown of that. Let's start at the beginning.

(Apologies for the pisspoor quality, I sniped these off the internet.)

It's stated multiple times throughout the movie that Nigel had "problems at home" and they centered around in-fighting. Not only is that widely known, but even the Headmaster was made aware that Nigels father wanted him out of the house specifically.

Despite Nigels grades being the highest in the country, being a virtually perfectly behaved teenage boy, and his dedication to a hobby that (while unsettling) is incredibly promising as both a career and a special interest- his father still found issue with something and felt the need to pull him from day school into a dormitory setting.

When showing Alex his crawlspace clubhouse, Alex knocks over a crate of bottles and wakes Nigels father. As any totally sane person would, he arms himself and scopes his property for the source of the noise before blaming the neighbors dog and returning to bed.

Nigel is not only able to tell where the guns are kept, but the exact sound of the footsteps approaching the cabinet.

He says "He's got the gun." In this...jovial, lackadaisical way. As if this is normal, expected, as if he's done this a thousand times. He's less the not worried, he's perfectly comfortable with the fact that his father is armed.

The first time we're introduced to Helen and John Colbie is during the Beckett play.

Helen greets Alex warmly, saying that Nigel has told her a lot about him. John reacts stiffly and only grows moreso as the scene plays out. It's clear that he didn't hear anything about this other boy, and finds his wifes involvement grating. His head turning to stare at her, and his sudden silence.

As Alex leaves, Helen expresses her relief that Nigel has a friend and wraps her arm around his lower back, rubbing there hard enough to move Nigels body- this seems to catch Johns eye as well.

Helen leaves the room first, floating above the tense atmosphere between John and Nigel, who seem to glare at eachother over her head. One in discomfort and the other in some smug righteousness.

The entire scene John is uncomfortable. He doesn't know this boy apparently who is Nigels bestfriend, he doesn't like how his wife touches (or jostles) his son, and he stubbornly refuses to leave the room until Nigel does.

I could be overthinking it but as soon as we see the dynamic between the Colbie's it feels painfully clear that there is a long-boiling tension. To me, it seems like Helen and Nigel are close and this upsets John, and since we already know that there was "problems" at home, we could safely assume it's to do with Johns violent tendencies.

Well, that is until the next time we see them.

Alex arrives late one night to the Colbie home at request of Nigel, only to find a car barely pulled into the carpark, it's even still running, and enough yelling to wake the dead.

On inspection, he finds Helen and Nigel the subject of Johns ire. John who once again has a gun and is demanding the explanation for why his son and wife are in bed together.

Not seen in the clip (and easily missed) is the radio from the car playing a sermon, the clergyman is talking of a wife bearing a son.

Despite being fully clothed, atleast as we see above the blankets, it's damning enough. Added to the racey photographs John was given of his wife.

It's evident that John was away, he even confirms that. There was fighting and he believed it would be best if they were all separated for a time. Clearly, he wasn't expecting to find these photos or come home to his son and wife in bed together.

Helen defends herself, at first.

She claims his accusations are disgusting and that she's appalled by the implications being thrown at her.

Even with this reaction, Nigel sits silent and grimacing at her side.

In certain shots you can see Nigel is doing something under the blankets. People think he's rubbing his legs to self-soothe, some people think he was wringing his hands for a similar purpose, others crassly assumed he was touching himself or pulling up his pants. There is no confirmation to any of these theories, as the action is fully out of view and Alex never extrapolates.

Regardless, as he sits in silence and lets his mother weather the storm of accusatory insults, her defense crumbles fast and soon she turns to Nigel.

Begging for explanation on the photos or for him to defend her, we never find out.

We all know how that song and dance goes.

John shoots Helen in a fit of rage when Nigel refuses to speak to either of them. Flinching and shaking beside his mother. Alex shoots John in a struggle for the gun, and we see Nigel slough off the image of a victim. Though not entirely. He looks down his nose at his parents but still shakes and greets Alex with a cracking voice.

This was not fun, this was not funny, this was revenge and fear. Nigel came out on top by luck alone.

Now, his mother dead, Nigel is free to have his Maraclea as Alex has Susan. This is not conditional to the Templar loving the woman, but the woman loving the Templar. This distinction was made by Nigel himself when he urged Alex to take Susan. In love, her only love.

Nigel's abuse, sexual or otherwise, was very obvious in retrospect. They did extremely well in creating this oppressive, frightening atmosphere in the Colbie house without once being fetishistic of the abuse or voyeuristic in it's exploration.

Nigel suffered and was traumatized, Alex never focuses on this and so it's easy to overlook, but when you watch it's as clear as day.