#'its about being so sad and so anxious and never ever hurting someone's feelings on accident' shut the fuck up oh my god shut the FUCK up.

[anglerflsh]

ooooh in god if I have to see that "Autism on TV/Autism in real life" post one more time. Someone here is going to have their feelings hurt and then argued about only with logic and it won't be me

[telanadasvhenan]

thinking more about the psychological aspect of solavellan, and before I start, I'd like to stress that this is NOT CRITICAL of it, I actually think it's what makes part of the dynamic interesting. My word isn't the be all and end all, however, this is just my musings on the topic :] Also, REALLY long post! so, more under the read more lol

From Lavellan's point of view, I would personally struggle to see her trusting another lover or close one again for a long time, if ever again. I don't really think people ever talk about the real impact of the things she goes through, or what solas put her through, and the hurt as a result of it. The relationship is never defined between the two of them, it's always spoken about in vague undetermined words from their companions and poetic elvish between the two of them. Are they lovers? companions? partners? it's really up to the player. Leliana says that "you were close", Sera says Lavellan is "in it." Vhenan means home, heart, it's not a word said lightly imo and he tells you he loves her by their second kiss. It's never an official thing, so how secure can Lavellan truly feel?

This could go both ways when it comes to the break up. Crestwood, as a scene, is so interesting to me because the first portion seems like a man brought to his knees by weakness for the woman he loves. The two of them never cease to touch, fingers entwined, shoulders brushing, skin to skin. It's so reminiscent of how Lavellan matches his Hallelujah cadence. They're two parts of a song singing together. It's a gorgeous scene and it's understandable how so many are angry at how it ends because the whiplash between how it starts and what it leaves you with is severe. Imagine this from lavellan's shoes.

You're desperately in love with someone at odds with your people, who is wonderful and enticing and smart. Loving solas feels like loving the whole world, like being free and connected with the stars. But you don't know what this is. And, if you thought you did, how far can you presume? Is Lavellan always on edge, scared to love him deeper and richer than he loves her? or is she in a false sense of security, assuming his affection is forever hers. So when he not only breaks away your faith and trust in your history, plus potentially the vallaslin, she is clearly deeply upset. This isn't a minor fact that simply can be swept aside. The vallaslin is important. And Solas, even with the best intentions, has hurt her. He knows it and there's a reason why he apologises (bc he wimped out on the real truth). How much more does he know about her people that he has refused to tell her or kept from her by omission? Can you imagine the embarrassment, the utter humiliation of that secret? how many memories of them together where she replays his distaste for her people in her mind, knowing that he has access to knowledge that could change her perception of her past? Its ALOT. and thats even before the breakup.

Solas is not kind about the break up. It's rushed (impulsive to me) and doesn't do their connection justice. His composure cracks in places and it's very unlike him. It absolutely blindsides the player, so imagine being in Lavellan's place, AFTER THE VALLASLIN? personally, I wouldn't have been able to function. I half suspect that a sad, calm Lavellan is also in shock or disassociation. Because how else do you cope? The lack of communication between them alone is enough to raise my eyebrows. He promises answers. He confides that she saw through his mask and doesn't tell her what was real, and what was fake. He has given her a kernel truth whilst keeping her in the dark. Everything he told her could be a false, imaginary polite mask or it could be the truth. Where does it end? Where does he begin? Where does she stand?

I don't know if everyone has experienced what it's like to be ghosted or for a friend to simply disappear one day, but it changes you. I say this as someone who has both been avoidant as well as anxious, but you never recover. Someone disappearing like that makes you doubt any reassurance that people won't just evaporate from your life. So when Solas just disappears, the game's single conversation with Leliana feels a little lacking to me. I understand that they can't really dedicate a lot to it, I get that, so I'd like to fill it in. At first, it's search parties. Solas wouldn't just leave her like that. He promised her answers. He started another mural just before they left for corypheus. He didn't intend to just leave, surely.

Days, weeks and months pass. The question is worse than the truth. Is he dead? Did he use them? Was he being truthful when he spoke to her in those ruins, or another polite mask he could hide behind? Is it better if he's dead or better than he didn't deem her worthy enough to even say goodbye? We, as the players, obviously know this isn't true, but she doesn't know that. Does your lavellan assume the worst and be overcome with grief that her one love, her heart, her home, was nothing more than a lie of omission? or is there anger there at his betrayal of her trust once more? I seriously doubt it was easy to forget or dismiss. That kind of disappearance ruins your trust with people. Something. Anything would have been enough.

Again, this is all my opinion on how these emotions would play out and DEFINITELY NOT canon nor do they have to be! But I seriously struggle to see how Lavellan could even come to heal from these wounds within even a two year time skip. By the time of trespasser, almost everyone has left her side. She's almost entirely alone again, save Cullen and Josie (and leliana if she's not divine). And thats okay: they all have rich lives to return to. But that must just reaffirm to her that no one will stay. She is alone. How does she trust again?

And then there is Fen'harel. Lavellan's reaction to fen'harel has always lacked the fear I kind of hoped would be there? I mean this isn't just a minor deity, this IS THE antagonist of her entire faith. I'm assuming that she's lost hope in the gods, even though it's confirmed to her that they're real, but that message has been a part of her since childhood. So learning that he is the dreadwolf, again not from him, but from the fragments of his past must cut her deeply.

Her love was never who he said he was, she knows this, but who is the real man? She's never known him in a context where he can truly show her. Her love is fragmented between each identity he holds. Her trust that he is who he said he is fragments with it. The knowledge that not only has he been watching the inquisition, her, for years without a single hint that he lives or is okay must destroy her. Could you imagine how insignificant you must feel to him? And he essentially affirms to her that yes, in the greater scheme of things, his love and hers are inconsequential. They cannot matter to him because he cannot strive from his path. His indulgence was a mistake. And it's undeniably cruel. I love solas and I cannot argue that he was kind to Lavellan because he wasn't. To me, there is no way to see his actions as kind. Understandable, absolutely and definitely without malicious intent.

Lavellan learns that he loved her just as deeply, if not more. He loved her with all his heart and it did not matter. She changed him and it has only brought him more pain. He loves her too much to even allow her near him, to even give himself that weakness. They are apart from each other in an endless distance, only the two of them in the world. No one else.

Obviously, each Lavellan is different, and I've made a lot of assumptions, but I think it's worth considering. How do you love someone again after all of that? How much can you rebuild your faith after what you have learnt. Lavellan has loved a "god" (I know he's not a god, but for all intents and purposes, he has the power of a god and wears an evanuris crown.) and in turn, a god has loved her. And he left her with one last embrace that will leave its mark on her forever, then he leaves once more. Lavellan is alone.

Each love after is met with suspicion, distrust and comparison. Lavellan is entirely changed. How many pieces of her can be taken away until she is no longer herself? Each person wears a new mask she cannot determine. Where do they begin? Where can she find herself?

How lonely it must be to love someone like Solas and be at the other side of an endless distance.

[buckyandgeraltsupremacy]

remus x shy!reader (part 4)

author: sj

warnings: fluff; angst for remus lol; reader is in hufflepuff; uses she/her pronouns; not edited

done with finals!! now battling the want to only read fics and not write, let me know if you want a confession from rem!!

masterlist

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 5

---

it was the day of the date and remus had been up since 4 am. he couldn't stop thinking about your date. however bad he hoped it would go, he didn't want your first date experience to be horrible. he wanted you to be treated how you deserve and to have a lovely time while also never ever wanting to see the fool again. and that is why he had woken up at 4 in the morning and couldn't stop the fight in his mind.

it was 11:30am and he was laying on the couch in the common room, one foot on the ground tapping constantly. the boys had decided to stay in this morning because james was worried they'd run into you and that sirius would end up embarrassing you and ruin your date.

"moony, if you don't stop tapping your foot, i'm going to lose my mind." sirius grunted, head in his hands covering his ears from the tapping noise.

"she should be done with her date now, right? its been 2 hours. why isn't she back yet?" remus asked.

"relax you love sick dog. your precious wife will be returned soon." sirius replied dramatically, rolling his eyes at how abserd this whole situation was. "if you had only confessed your love for her when you had the chance, she wouldn't be snogging another fella while you fumed the whole time." he added. remus shot upright on the couch with a wide eyed expression and a look of dread covering his features.

"here she comes!" peter shouted, holding the marauder's map in his hands, walking into the common room where the other boys were. all of their heads turned towards the portrait hole where it swung open and you stepped through.

you were excited to tell the boys all about it, but you weren't quite expecting them to all be staring at you when you got back.

"well, hi." you said, cheeks flushing more than they already were, glancing towards the floor to not meet their eyes. you sat down on the couch next to remus like normal, not sensing the tension in his body, only feeling their eyes on you.

"WELL??? i need all the details. spill your guts flea!" sirius cried across from you.

"it was okay! it wasn't bad! but it also wasn't great. like it was pleasant but it wasn't anything to write home about. is that good? like are you supposed to know if you want to marry him already?" you rambled, entire face flushing and not meeting their eyes.

"aw, hoppers. i'm sorry it didn't go well." james consoled you.

"what do you mean?" you asked, confused why he sounded sad for you.

"well, it didn't sound like there was any chemistry, that's important if you're gonna date someone." james explained.

"flea, i know it's your first date ever, but even i thought you'd know that." sirius shrugged. at the mention of it being your first date, you tensed and shot a look a remus, hurt that he spilled a secret to the boys. remus met your gaze with a look of panic.

"that wasn't me! i swear it! i didn't tell them!" he yelled.

"oh he didn't tell us, but the way you were acting before was kind of obvious and the fact that remus would've known that you were dating someone before you were part of our group and you certainly haven't since we've been friends because of remus' behavior." sirius explained, you relaxed and reached to touch remus' leg.

"sorry for thinking that you told them when you didn't ." you apologized and remus nodded back.

"its fine bun, i'm not hurt." he said, covering your hand with his.

"so hoppers, did you snog him?" sirius asked crudely. your cheeks flushed bright red.

"that is none of your business sirius! and a lady never kisses and tells!" you exclaim, avoiding all their eyes. "i told him that it would be best if we were friends, and he agreed. i don't think dating is for me, i just got so anxious before! and the thought of having to go on another date, just makes me nauseous." you say, leaning onto remus' shoulder and resting your head.

"thats okay, bun. you don't have to date if you don't want to." remus patted your thigh, his heart soaring that he won't have to go through this again. he knew he'd have to tell you that he liked you soon, the thought of you with someone else almost killed him.

"thanks rem." you mumbled back, sinking deeper into his side.

sirius observes this going on, looking to james and mouthing, 'are they fucking idiots??'

james simply rolled his eyes in response.

[secretlilsis]

She had been crying in her room for quite some time now. It made him anxious, she had not allowed him inside to comfort her. But he was pretty sure that was and had always been his job. To be the one that cheered her up, made her smile. And now she wasnt even letting him close to her. He didnt even get to ask what had upset her so much. But sitting in front of her closed room door, he could hear her sniffle and cry. Like a watchdog, he sat there. Waiting until she gave him permission to do what he was meant to do : make her smile, make her feel better. Suddenly she shouted to him, being pretty sure he was somewhere close "Big brother, are you still there?"

"Yes my dear, I am right here."

"Its fine you can come inside now."

He didnt need to be told twice, and was in her room within seconds. The way she hugged her legs, the sight of her puffy eyes, all that filled him with empathy and a genuine need to see her feel better.

"They .. theres this guy and he..."

Oh no. His muscles tensed. He already started to get angry, feeling protective of her.

"He.. He.. He basically sexually harassed me...... I dont know... I.. and no one was on my side. I..." She looked so distraught. His head was boiling over with hate. No one got to touch his little sister, esp not in a way she did not want or enjoy.

"What is his name? Maybe I should pay him a little visit." His voice was shaking with rage. Within seconds her small careful hurt words had managed to turn him upside down. She had never been the kind of girl to play coy and pretend she didnt share his rage, all of to often when someone had stepped out of line had she told her big brother and he had handled it for her, she had not once attempted to hold him back. Instead it seemed to give her a sense of joy, and a feeling of being utterly protected by him. He was glad she indulged him in that way.

"Before that though big brother... I want you to overwrite where he touched me. I mean it was only my ass and my hair but..." She looked at him through her puffy eyes and sadness, and suddenly there was a silent kind of yearning. Like she counted on big brothers touch to undo whatever that guy had caused her to feel.

He stepped closer to her, and before doing anything sexual, he simply held her very tightly and gently petted her head, stroking her long strands of hair and whispering into her "Its alright... Ill make you feel better.. Whatever you need. Im here for you. I love you."

She hid her face in his chest, but then slowly took his hand and put it on her breast "Make me forget this ever happened, okay?" She whispered, that same yearning in her voice all over again. She felt so fragile, yet there was something powerful in her voice, something determined.

"I hate that someone that isnt you touched me with that type of intention, youll just have to do me so much ill forget all about it.. And.. Ill delight in it when you go and hurt him for me.." Her voice sounded somewhat sinister, but he couldnt help but find that cute too.

He kissed her fragile looking lips, and she returned the kiss somberly. Soon her blouse came undone, and so did her skirt and she sat there in her underwear, looking at him, needing him, wanting him. All the way through this he held her tightly, not wanting to stop comforting her... When he started to touch her pussy, he angled her differently so he could still kind of wrap around her and hold her close. Her soft moans enveloped him, and he soon was in his own little world with her. She sounded gentle, loving and inviting and she was wet around his finger.

Like in a daze he slowly went to properly fuck her, her cunt ready and open for him. She accepted him without blinking, the only difference was that her nails now were digging into his back in a way they usually didnt, there was shaking anger and desperation behind it, like she wanted to claw herself inside him to proccess what had happened. Like shed pull him inside her violently if she had to, like shed never ever want to let go of him.

When they came, she looked a little peaceful again, like he had done as she asked, like she had overwritten the foul sensation.

As their bodies seperated she looked at him and gave him one last tongue kiss, spit splitting between their mouths - connecting them still, only ripping apart as she spoke "Tell me in full detail about what youve done to him, once youve gotten around it, okay, big brother?" There was that shaking rage in her voice again. He understood it all to well, he was sure, whatever anger she felt, he felt it tenfold.

[lokorum]

Pls rant about non romance cole…he’s my favorite character in anything, ever and it feels so sad that we never got to have a deeper relationship w him. Like the mechanics/possible lore of having a romance with a spirit are so tantalizingly interesting but no…also doubting we will see him in veil guard which leaves me so so broken …

*looks at their pile of unpacked feelings about cole*

so ૮( ◡̀_◡́)ა where to start....................

first of all uh! im not good at talking! that's why i draw phphp but i'll try my best to resurrect my memories from 2014 and share it with you!! sorry if it will sound weird, english is not my native language! 

well WELL from the begining then. i remember spending hours  more like days hhhh thinking about how weird and cool the recruiting scene with cole is? later when he is already with the inquisition, our party is either on guard around him or kinda treats him like he is helpless and needs special attention or guidance or something like that? demonising someone like him or framing them as in need of help are like textbook behavior ofc and im not here to be a hater, i just noticed it? moments with solas and varric fighting over him like a divorced couple are super cute for sure!!

but i remember being confused because excuse me, out of all of them, this guy??, this feral bat that is chilling on the ceiling like it's a lounge-zone inside Lucius' head, created especially for him?

he is confident. also a little bit nervous, a bunch mysterious and just ghostly cool. but also confident. (im not saying this confidence is not misplaced sometimes btw x) he even tells you that if you'll leave your head you'll die! what a jokester (҂ ꒦ິヮ꒦ິ)

and the whole quest with templars and envy are soooo horror coded, i love it!! it looked a bit silly, sure

(even after so many years im not able to get rid of the image in my brain phphphp) 

but it's still a very interesting quest!! dorian is ✨the bestie✨ but i'm always picking templars bc the implications of the story are just so good

1. its placed at the beginning of the game and your character is probably confused and anxious and dont yet worked out the routine of how to deal with their new title\powers + not every inquisitor character would want to be in the spotlight.

imagine you suddenly got yourself into position where a lot of people looking up to you, listening to what you saying, placing their hopes on you or waiting for you to fail? this is terrible! id 1000% just jumped out of a cliff!!! a small one, but still 

2. you meeting the guy who basically came from a place you now have unlimited access to.

he is: a) almost as confused as you are b) possibly came to this world without knowing consequences of that decision c) along the way he is figuring out how to be himself in the environment that is nothing like where he used to live. wow thats just like forced immigration *nervous laugh*

3. and let's not forget that you are meeting him inside your head and you can say to him "you look familiar".

dont know about you but apparently i dont need much to start screaming ¯(ツ)/¯

also can i just spend the moment to say that this is three (3) identical dialogue options??????????

the screenshot is from here btw

how awesome would it be to be able to figure out stuff together? to find comfort in someone, with someone who barely experienced it this way? to build on your strong sides? like "hope" for cole and i guess "unhingedness" for the inquisitor? i bet they would ground each other easily as well: cole distracting inq by being unintentionally mischievous and inq would have a notepad with cole's "firsts ____" or they would just read together. oh im such a sucker for hurt\comfort\some things cant be healed stuff uaaaaaaaaa

ALSO THE "FORGET" THING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the drama the horror the tension!!!!!!!! you can fight me over this but heres the thought:

cole being so stressed that he is erasing\being on the edge of erasing the inquisitor's memories??????

i got the feeling that cole's confidence in the concept of "help" is, among other things, makes him being able to zoom in on something borderline obsessively? or vise versa - dismissively, not noticing "it hurts, its not for the better"? he thanks you when you promise to kill him, he cries when you do not. i swear this man (─ ‿ ─)

+quick addition bc im not entirely sure: so if i got it right, the anchor makes the inquisitor "too bright" to read? so among all the people we know about inq is the one that cole can't truly empathise on this lvl? on spiritual lvl you might say lsdkjflksdjflkj sorry!!!!! but jokes aside,this is like the perfect ground to build both comforting stories 

"someone from the party notices that cole is hanging near inq before inq do, and when asked he explains it by saying something like "dry warm skin. the air is stilled with quiet, easy to breathe. i followed the shining whispers and then i was followed no more" with the most plain face possible? "

and "today for lunch i have glass" kind of stories, like "the inquisitor is cornered and possibly bleeding and probably on the verge of passing out and they know that situation is bad and no one should follow/find them, "it's better to wait it out and deal with it on my own" kind of clown behavior. so they laugh tiredly at how pathetic they are, maybe remembering something similar from their childhood, remarks from their sibling for ex., and just trying their best to not think about how they need cole's help, cole's presence. the sense of safety that comes when he is around" 

uh!!! that wasnt neither quick or painless so i'll go make a tea wait a second please

im back!! so since i talked about the forget thing i must confess - i dont really like cole's personal quest???? again, im not complaining or anything but i remember feeling kinda empty while playing it? like deep inside me, there was something sad, but it was so far away,i coudn't even feel it properly?

both human and spirit versions of his ending made me feel like the distance between you and him lengthened, and maybe you could do something about it before but now? this "something" is missing and you're lost and can't even tell for sure if theres was a chance to do something in the first place? and cole just moved on? its super logical considering he is not a romance option but phphph so, i rarely romance someone in games, partly bc rpg tends to be a little horny and im that kind of ace who is not interested in this, partly bc i tend to pay attention to non-romanceable characters, so when i started to explore last da:i dlc and i saw cole having gf i was like "well ouch".

imagine your inq has a crush on cole but they never were able to say it clearly?

mb it was a melancholic slowburn, and your character was going through too much and felt like burdening cole with their problems would be unfair?

maybe they tried but the timing was wrong, the words felt stupid, and their hands felt too dirty, too guilty?

oh anon its been ten years and its still huuuuuurts!!!! if you following me for a while you know that im an edge lord in poor disguise so its not surprising for neither you or me that i ended up rumbling about inexplicable sadness and crushing existential guilt, but sorry for that anyway!! if anyone would want me to talk about something specific, or to draw something - im here, staring at the wall, listening to cole's banter :') thank you for the wonderful question tho, it was more than just nice to return back to this ship. im so agreeing with you about cole being the fave character from everything, but i also understand that this could mean being very unsatisfied with the way he was portrayed at some points or just with the fact that characters like him are rare so im sending you warm and tight hugs and a little sketch!! <3 

let's collectively accept the fact that dav gonna be a beautiful mess, we gonna love it (passionately), we gonna be hurt by it (not surprisingly) and COLE FOREVER WILL BE THE BEST DA CHARACTER EVER IM NOT GONNA CHANGE MY MIND FIGHT ME

[curi0us-gh0st]

Mama's Girl Pt.2 (Shim Suryeon)

pairings: Shim Suryeon x Fem!Reader, Joo Seok Kyung x Fem!Reader.

word count: ± 3k

genre: angst, fluffy.

summary: you don't have to do anything to make them fall into their own pits of problems.

warnings: abuse of power, revenge, anger, use of weapons, sadness, crying, suggestive of murder and suicide (?), mention of life after death (?).

a/n: some scenes inspired by the drama.

Family Line; 1 / 2

We all know the stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression. Therefore, always at a stage as forgotten as it is most often invalid. Revenge. Everyone who has ever felt the thirst to avenge both their dignity and the desire to kill that feeling.

Knowing that actions due to this thirst and feeling would bring consequences to yourself, although everything pointed to this, that karma would also affect you, you didn't care, you didn't wait for karma to do it on its own. So when you infiltrated the Palace hotel, that's how it all began, your own revenge was beginning, your own quest to avenge your daughter on the vermin that lived in that penthouse.

It was so easy to get in that I thought it would be quick, but it wasn't. Revenge is a dish best eaten cold and slowly, it took about two months to plan everything, leaving nothing missing, every detail thought out in detail, no one would be left out. Nobody.

Invitations were posted to each family member involved, placed on their desks, closets, bags, and mails, where they would find them quickly. The day was set, arriving like a storm, the atmosphere tense among the members, all suspicious and anxious, even suspecting their own shadow.

Only one person was strangely different from the others, the pain in his eyes, the inner fight that he was slowly losing, the bitter and killing feeling gnawing at his being, thoughts not so different from when he saw you in the hospital, the guilt slowly killing him , slowly dying. Why Shim Suryeon?

Excluding Shim Suryeon's depressed and silent being, other people caught his attention while in the luxurious penthouse. The tearful and muffled requests from the other side, making your heart tighten in your chest, intrusive thoughts, how could someone be so cruel?

His eyes searching for someone else in the large room, silence to the requests, his body moving towards the clamor. The metal door, the hand going to the lever and opening it, the girl fell to her knees in front of her, crying louder as she asked for forgiveness several times, her chest hurt, her maternal side pushing her body to kneel in front of the girl , hold your face in your hands and pull out a few strands of your hair.

Her eyes met, her face full of tears, her cheeks and the tip of her nose red, sniffling realizing that it wasn't the person who trapped her. Your expression went from something empathetic to amazed, looking at the girl's features, your heart racing, a nervous feeling running down your spine, the world stopping for you. It looked like her, so almost like her, but it wasn't her, Min Seol Ah.

"W-who are you?" She asked with a blurry voice, almost voiceless from asking to be released.

Her brain stopped at the question, you quickly let go of her face and stood up as if you had just seen a ghost. She wasn't much different, getting up soon after, wiping her face with the back of her hand, waiting for his answer.

"I… I'm the cleaning lady!" She lied. "I heard you and came to see what was going on. In fact, look at the dirt!"

She ran to the cart pretending to be cleaning something, the girl was surprised, not wanting to continue with that stranger, she left, leaving her alone in the room, a sigh of relief leaving her lips until she left that place, leaving no trace.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⋆·˚ ༘ *

The night came like any other, she sat on the bed, facing the door, the time was getting later and later, seeming to wait for someone who would never come through it. Missing, anguish, pain. A mixture that made your stomach turn and turn, the hope of waking up from this nightmare was lost when calls were not answered, messages were not answered, when the entrance did not open to reveal the smile that lit up your life.

The noise of her cell phone interrupted her moment, calling and seeing another of Suryeon's many messages, eager for a response, for attention, for love, wanting to share the same pain that was caged in her chest, in the darkest and gloomiest place.

“Hello, Y/N.

How are you?

I'm sorry, I should have known you weren't okay.

In fact, nothing is.

I paid the hospital bill.

I don't want to redeem myself with this, I know you're not that type.

I... Well, I don't know.

Sorry."

4:00 am

“Y/N.

Can we meet?

I want to talk.

Please.

I want to see you.

I want to know if you're okay.

Can you answer me?

Am I bothering you?

Sorry, I'm sorry.

It's not my intention.

I really need you right now."

7:00 am

"What you been doing?

Have you changed your number?

Did you leave Seoul?

Where are you?

I can go?

I want to be with you.

There are things I need to talk about in person.

Y/N, Min Seol Oh, she…

Was she happy?

How small was she?

Did she look like you?

What did she like?

Forgive me, I don't know what I'm doing..."

10:00 am

"I bought some flowers and placed them on her grave.

I didn't know what color she liked So I bought one of each.

I talked to a friend today.

He said you can see the messages.

I think you are seeing them and reading them.

Answer me.

No.

I accept your silence."

15:00 pm

"I think I owe you a lot.

I won't be able to pay in this life.

Maybe next time."

23:50 pm

"In the next life.

Where we can be happy."

23:55 pm

*message deleted*

"In the next life,

I will pay for every wrong I did to you.

I know.

I look like a teenager.

So I love being the best of everything,

Imagine when it hurts to be so mean to you...

The pain of being so insufficient.

Your forever ended after meeting me.

I healed old wounds and ended up creating new ones.

I'm sorry, Min Y/N.

It hurts too much to admit that love alone is not enough and does not solve everything.

Hurt so much. I wanted so much,

I still managed to pretend I didn't love you."

00:10 am

The dawn followed like any other, bottles of soju next to the bed, the cell phone vibrating with each message arriving. You didn't think about how she was saying that, but you know, loving is good, therefore, forgetting too, living with and living without, you can say that it healed and there was no aftereffect.

In the morning at the penthouse, that smile appeared on Shim Suryeon's beautiful face, but it no longer affected you, it no longer despaired you. You barely remember your phone number, you don't know when you met, whether it was in winter or autumn, or whether you broke up in summer, you no longer know your favorite color, the wound that formed has healed and you are no longer afraid. of farewell. She no longer dreams or has nightmares, she no longer hates or desires, her eyes no longer fill with water, she no longer feels drowned, reading her messages or letters.

It doesn't matter whoever made the mistake was left behind. It doesn't matter if there's someone else, or if he's going to give her back, if he shows up in front of her house, he'll pretend he's not there, a way of saying he doesn't want to see her or talk to her, the most polite way he's found to deal with her. Looking at her face, and not remembering the beginning, you don't know her anymore, did she really exist or was it just something you invented? How much did she feel? How much did you give yourself? When did she lose you? When did she not see? The fact is that she gave up, she didn't go after it or look for it, she didn't lose her hunger or sleep, but she didn't care who she was with or where you were, she even smiled when they asked about her love and she almost forgot your name, she didn't remember your perfume, your birthday. Stuffing her face like anyone else who just lost their love, she pretending she didn't know you when she saw you walking with Seol Ah, years ago.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⋆·˚ ༘ *

Her heart grew cold, her fists clenched and she reminded herself why she was here. Wanting to see the pain and suffering of those people, to make her feel what her daughter felt, alone.

Everyone invented an excuse to leave the house at dusk, everyone inventing an excuse to find you, in that abandoned dump, far from the city, an inappropriate place for those who didn't see where their trash was dumped. The first to arrive behind someone, entering their cage, one by one, getting scared by the presence that arrived as they went along, trying to find the reason why everyone was there.

Jumping in fright as they were about to give up when the door of the old bus closed and the fire spread around them, fear and nervousness forming a tense and agonizing atmosphere. The masked person holding a shotgun, making the rich tremble at just the sight, but that doesn't mean that even though they were nervous, they didn't feel superior. Banging against the fence, asking to leave, asking who that person was, what the hell they were doing there.

"What the hell- Who are you?!" One of the men shouted, the feeling of knowing that voice, a familiar feeling.

"Release us, now!" One of the women shouted as if bossing you, what is she thinking?

Raising the shotgun towards them who ducked for cover, a Latin smile overshadowed by the mask.

“Min Seol Ah.”

They looked at each other, now I understand what it was about, murmurs being heard in the distance. An ignorant laugh that made his hands grip the gun more firmly, determined to do his worst.

"What are you? Some kind of avenger? Is that it? An avenger for that bastard girl?" The arrogant speech making anger course through the veins.

"Shut up! You don't know what the fuck you're talking about, you didn't even know her, you little shits!" The scream was thunderous, chills running down the spines of some present.

"You wouldn't have the courage to do that, of course."

What the hell is that woman thinking? Who does she think she is to say such a thing? Damn it, her body will rot with maggots tonight. A tightening of the jaw, the weapon being positioned, aiming at its target, hatred, rancidity, making soup in your stomach.

"That's what we'll see." They stopped quickly with the speech and positioning of the masked shooter.

A noise right next to him made him look away and a pistol was aimed at the unexpected guest. The eyes behind the mask being met with frightened eyes, standing a distance away.

"Shim Suryeon!" "Are you behind all this?!" The screams and accusations were heard from a long distance now, just staring at the woman standing still, her eyes red and her breathing unsteady.

"Hey…" Her voice, low and shaky. "I need you to control yourself." Her soft tone sounded not far from where she stood, eyes inspecting the inmates and returning to her.

“I know what you’re feeling right now, Y/N…” She said your name quietly. "The anger and the pain and the hate in your chest, I know you want revenge, you want to see them pay for it. But, it's not worth it. You know." Comprehensive.

"This won't make Min Seol Ah come back, much less make her pain go away…" The head lolling to the side, trying to find some lie in the strangely familiar eyes. "I'll let them go, please, darling…"

A huff left her lips, irritated. If she were without her mask, she could see his eyes rolling at his rather famous speech. The pistol lowered, turning to those trapped people, muttering and speculating Suryeon's unexpected appearance.

"Screw this." The voice cursed, before quickly disappearing from that place, leaving them trapped, screaming for freedom. Suryeon determined to go after you, I let go once again.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⋆·˚ ༘ *

“So, Madam Oh..” The voice sounded so calm in such a desperate moment. "How it was?"

“Oh! What the hell are you talking about? What do you want?" She screamed as fear spread through her tiny body as she struggled to stop the other woman.

An almost devilish smile appeared on the lips of the woman in front of the car, she pushed some more as the woman screamed to stop.

“What was it like letting my daughter fall off that damn penthouse, huh?” The question made the woman's body stop instantly.

"No. I don’t… That’s not… How do you know?” Her eyes glazed over, fear radiating from her body.

Reaching inside his coat and taking out an apple necklace, burnt and half destroyed.

“All this for what? What should I do with you? Let me see…” A silence appeared in the air being replaced by thunder. “Maybe, I should kill your daughter? What do you think?"

The eyebrows raised, suggestive and almost funny, a dark tone hovering between the speech.

"No!" She screamed.

“Hey, why not? Isn't that what you did to Seol Ah? Pushing from the balcony?”

"No! No! No! You are crazy! That is not what happened! You crazy!"

She continued screaming, a small alarm on her cell phone waking her up at the moment.

“That’s what we’ll see, Madam Oh.”

“Yoonhee.

Was you?"

03:33 am

"No."

03:34 am

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⋆·˚ ༘ *

The man found himself in the room seeing the girl behind bars, her face a little bruised, short hair different from before she was admitted, anger flowing through her veins.

"What are you doing here?" She muttered staring at the man in the suit.

"One moment." He replied, picking up a phone as he talked to someone else on the line, the girl approaching the bar.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” She screamed and the voice on the other end of the line caught her attention, her mother's voice.

"She does not know? Why don’t you tell the truth, Shim Suryeon?” He gave his smug smile as he stared at the girl.

"What I do not know?!" She screamed again. "Mother!"

“That Min Seol Ah was your twin sister.” He said amid protests on the other end of the line, looking the girl in the eyes.

“That’s not true… That’s a lie… That’s not…” The girl muttered.

She quickly grabbed the man's tie pulling him against the bars, hurting him, the doctors quickly got him out of there while the girl screamed curses and her own thoughts.

A long moment as he processed the new information, all these years of hurting a single person to alleviate his internal problems, his wounded heart dying as time passed, Seok Kyung didn't even notice when the nurse entered the room, approaching to take care of him. your injuries.

“Hello, Miss Joo, I came to take care of your injuries.” The voice was calm, as if speaking to a small child. "Do not worry about a thing."

The woman approaches the girl who looked like a dog after being beaten, cowering in the corner of the room. She lifted a small cotton ball, placing it on the girl's cut mouth, who moaned from the sting, cleaning the blood and applying medicine immediately afterwards.

She got down on her knees, holding the side of her face and brushing away the strands of hair, taking another piece of cotton to clean the wound on her head, the girl fighting back in pain. The eyes focusing on the things the nurse brought, then focusing on the eyes, those eyes... A feeling of familiarity being prevented by the mask, Seok Kyung raising his hand to take it off and the nurse walking away.

"Ready. You look brand new.” Her eyes closing, smiling behind her mask. “Be careful not to take off the Band-Aids.”

“Wait…” The girl said holding the nurse’s wrist. “Do I… Do I know you?” The voice gradually disappears, the woman leaving, leaving the girl alone behind bars.

“I always wondered what Min Seol Ah would look like with short hair.” The woman said before leaving the room, leaving a distraught Seok Kyung behind.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⋆·˚ ༘ *

“I never thought we would be here…” The woman said with bright eyes and a pained smile on her lips.

“Maybe, I always thought about that…” The other replied looking ahead at the woman in front of her.

The car stopped on the cliff, the dark forest being illuminated by the moonlight that hit the side below, a silence filled with pain, sadness and regret.

"Forgive me for…"

"No. You don’t have to do this, I promise.”

The arms around the body tightening a little more, the desire to merge and live together, this time, happily.

“I don't blame you and I don't want your excuses, just like I don't want to give you mine which would just be lies to ease your pain and my pain now... So, life makes crazy things happen, but don't blame yourself completely for that."

Her eyes filling with tears, her heart breaking into millions of pieces, the desire to go back in time and change everything wrong.

“In the end, you will always come back to me… Just as I will come back to you. Thank you, Shim Suryeon.”

A smile in the midst of sadness appearing on the lips, a mutual feeling, the past coming together one last time, maybe it's not so bad.

“Thank you, Y/N… I love you. I always loved you."

Lips meeting one last time, a single desire, a single feeling, a bittersweet feeling, awakened since the day one of them left and only one loved nothing, a last whisper of love echoing in their lives now, without meaning. One step closer to the tip, arms around each other, as the moon witnesses the last moment of togetherness, the last moment of love, the last breath of this life.

Maybe in another life...

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⋆·˚ ༘ *

I'm so good at telling lies.

This came from my mother's side,

She told a million to survive.

God, I have my mother's eyes

But it's my sister's when I cry.

I can run, but I can't hide

From my family lineage.

“Hey Seok Kyung, come quickly!”

The girl ran to catch up with the rest of the family, holding her twin sister's hand, as a small red line passed between them, connecting them.

The looks and smiles on their faces as they ran across the large field, the smell of nature and the warm feeling that warmed their hearts, family.

“I love you, Shim Suryeon.”

“I love you too, Min Y/N.”

“We love you too, mommies!”

[terriblewomanyuri]

When I started Hoshikuzu Telepath, I expected a mediocre CGDCT and slight yuri undertones that started and ended at the forehead-elepathy.

DAMN was I wrong.

Warning: MAJOR spoilers. This is pretty much a summary occasionally mixed in with my thoughts.

In short, if you haven't read Hoshikuzu Telepath, you should read it. It's really fucking good.

In long:

First off, Umika is a believable anxious character. She doesn't just get sad or withdrawn, she'll cry if she gets too overwhelmed or worried. That isn't to say there aren't anxious people who just shut down, but it is nice to see a character who cries and is still presented as emotionally strong.

Because Umika is! So many stories present protagonists that supposedly get up after being knocked down, but there's never the impressions that they're knocked down, just pushed back. They don't cry, get frustrated, or react poorly, they just have an obstacle they need to get around and, while the progress they make feels satisfying, it never feels like they overcome the internal strife they supposedly have.

With Hoshikuzu Telepath, things actually get worse before they get better. There's almost always something stressing out one of the members of the main cast, because they're all girls with some level of trauma, but it doesn't become oppressive at any point.

To start, Matataki joining was pretty lighthearted. There were some rough spots, but it kind of felt inevitable she'd join. The subsequent competition, Umika's panic attack during her speech, and the listless air of defeat after the competition was not where I expected the story to go, but it was what got me hooked.

The heartfelt conversation between Umika and Yuu in the lighthouse... that was YURI! It also sets up the core of Umika and Yuu's relationship and it's connection to light. And, of course, the fact that while Umika thinks she's an absolute failure, other people at school think its awesome that she makes model rockets is great! Because, yeah, that's what all people in a field of expertise experience at some point, or at least what they deserve. You have experience and think you're terrible, but someone without experience thinks its cool.

To be honest, I think Matataki is my favorite character. I'm a sucker for mechanics, I'm a sucker for characters with a gay little fang, and I relate to a lot of her character. Her relationship with Haruno is great, especially when she realizes she can't blow the material down the rocket tube because that would mean an indirect kiss. And of course, Haruno coming in when she's brooding, yelling about how she's gonna beat her in a competition and make her lose, then taking her goggles... excellent.

Side note: I would not object if this managed to become poly yuri. The relationships between our four main characters are all well established and they aren't relegated to only having deep and intimate character moments with their narrative foil.

Matataki facing off against Haruno, Umika, and Yuu was great, and her losing on purpose so she could go back to being alone was an amazing character moment. And then Haruno calling that she used an engine too small? AGHHH! Matataki getting pissed off and trying to push everyone away again is great! She's not just someone who says some kinda mean things and doesn't ever mean them, she genuinely says this to hurt, not because she hates anyone, but because she distrusts them. And earlier, she made Umika cry with her words, which just makes Umika coming back and making a speech about wanting to make a place where all of them can pursue their dreams and be comfortable... it feels so genuine because we've SEEN her pursue this goal!

Umika getting sick from all this exertion is a bit contrived, but it leads to some good yuri, so I have no complaints. Also Umika's mom works at the aquarium. I wonder if we'll get the state-mandated aquarium yuri date? Umika's gay little dream about Yuu is cute, and her asking Yuu to not do forehead-elepathy with anyone else is not just adorable, but a portent of the drama to come, as Yuu immediately does whatever Umika wants due to her desperation for someone who cares for her. While it just looks like a cute, two-sided yuri crush at this point, we can tell it's sowing the seeds for something that could be seriously codependent looking back. Also, while forehead-elepathy is obviously a (debatably) platonic stand-in for kissing, it feels way gayer. This is also where Yuu starts becoming aware of her feelings for Umika.

And here is where I start going feral over the chapter taglines. "I must be the only one who noticed that our hands are touching," shows Yuu's love for Umika so clearly. Umika is thrilled to have a companion like Yuu, and while she's pretty gay about it, she does not realize the extent of her influence on Yuu. Yuu thinks that Umika is the only one who truly and wholly accepts her and thus is desperate to be exactly what Umika wants her to be. Yet she also doesn't think that Umika could reciprocate those feelings, and thus worries about how their relationship would progress. Thus, she thinks that she's the only one who notices their hands touching.

The lighthouse meeting here demonstrates this perfectly. Yuu is following a request Umika gave her while delirious from fever with immense discipline. Then, Yuu is thrilled when Umika gets better at talking to other people. Then she's terrified. Terrified of Umika drifting away from her, terrified that if Umika doesn't need her anymore, she won't want her.

Umika gets better at talking to people and gives her presentation at the club leader meeting pretty well and tells Yuu about it. Yuu tries to voice her worries, but ultimately is afraid that Umika will push her away and plays it off and tells Umika that she's not doing forehead-elepathy with anyone else because Umika asked her too. And Umika doesn't remember, she apologizes, and Yuu calls herself stupid for it.

And the ending tagline here is GRAHHH. "An arm's length is so frustratingly short." Yuu wants to keep herself away, because she's becoming worried. She wants Umika to get better, and if Yuu gets too obsessed with Umika, she might try to stop that.

Yuu thinks that it's fine if Umika doesn't get better at talking to other people, because Yuu will always be able to understand her. And she feels terrible, because she wants Umika to get better at talking to other people, so the only person she can blame is herself.

She gets worse, but lets take a diversion to look at Haruno and Matataki and their gay ol' times together. Haruno arriving to Matataki, ready to ride on her motorcycle in a skirt, only for Matataki to put her in jeans and a biker jacket is great, but the fact that they talk about it being to Matataki's "taste," is... GRAHHHHH!!!

Haruno pouring out her worries about herself, talking about how she's grown, and thanking Matataki for helping improve is adorable. Haruno leaning over the railing, losing her balance, and falling back into Matataki's arms is adorable. And then Haruno says "I love it when... you're so strong and kind, Matataki-chan!" She was about to confess, I guarantee you.

Then Matataki gives her a new choker??? And Haruno grins like an idiot when she gets it and asks if she fits Matataki's tastes more now??? And then when Haruno asks her for help finding out what her grandfather's dreams were, she says "I love you!" when Matataki agrees????? They're so girlfriends.

Anyways, they've got a radio to the aliens now that only works intermittently and Yuu is FUCKED UP. She is panicking, torn between elation at possibly meeting her people and fear at leaving Umika. When they go to the coordinates, in the woods, where they think the UFO is going to land eventually, it doesn't come immediately. Then night passes and Matataki and Haruno leave Umika and Yuu to it.

Umika is positive, as usual, but then Yuu starts getting worried about her possessiveness. And then it gets fuckin' wild. The 4koma template that's only been broken for big moments is broken again as Yuu pins Umika to the ground and covers her mouth and starts talking about how "Only you could tug at my heart like that..." Then she starts caressing Umika's hand and face and talking about how Umika doesn't need other people, about how Yuu can understand her just fine, about how they should "stay together... forever." Then Yuu is overwhelmed with guilt and says that she doesn't really want to do any of that and runs off terrified.

I was NOT FUCKING EXPECTING THIS. I did not anticipate the series would delve into an actual toxic lesbian relationship, but here we are!

And, of course, Umika doesn't give up. Her digging through the grounds with her bare hands because she thinks that what the coordinates marked was actually a piece of meteorite that could restore the function of the radio... she really does love Yuu.

I'm getting a bit tired, so I won't go into their reconciliation, but it's nice seeing Umika realize her feelings for Yuu. And the fact that they both realize and say, in front of Haruno and Matataki, that they feel jealousy over each other in a way different than from friendship... c'monnnnn canon lesbians lets go, canon lesbians.

Also Matataki is getting interested in the Cosmic language (which is Esperanto! Pretty nice.) and I'm betting she's going to confess to Haruno in it so she can admit to herself that she's in love and then pass it off as an insult when Haruno asks what she said. Of course, this is going to be followed by Haruno saying it to Umika or Yuu, who will tell her what it actually means. Investing in this now.

The series does seem to be getting lighter now, what with Matataki in a maid outfit for the culture festival. I do like the scene where the middle schooler looks at the display from the Rocket Research Association and Umika shows her what everything does. It's nice seeing someone passing on their knowledge to someone and getting them interested in the field while sharing their passion. Even if they're only 15 (Umika, probably) and 14 (the middle schooler, probably) years old.

Also the yuri is getting cranked up after that mutual confession of jealousy, with Yuu and Umika pretty much flirting in public.

Also, can't remember when it happened, but Matataki really did say "Fuck them kids." Poor teacher gets constantly ignored, too.

This ended up being more of a summary than an analysis. Ah well.

The TVTropes page is also desperate to emphasize that these girls AREN'T EXPLICITLY ATTRACTED TO EACHOTHER GUYS ALRIGHT THIS IS DEFINITELY NOT CANONICALLY YURI!

TVTropes is wrong btw. They're gay. Gay as fuck.

[manonamora-if]

i dont know if u feel up for it to answer but like... how do u handle negative comments and ratings and just people being negative about ur stuff? bc i have someone just being rude in comments or like notes and game folders on itch and its making me want to just delete everything and never show anyone anything anymore. or even have an acocunt on itch either.

Hi Anon,

I'm sorry you've been dealing with this, and that it took me so long to answer. I've been thinking about this for a while honestly. I've been writing a bunch of drafts for this one, because my answer seems to change with the day or my mood. Some of my stuff have had some strange interactions lately that's made me question whether I should stay on itch myself. I mean, I don't think I'll ever leave... there are too many fun jams I want to participate and, you know, to force people to play my weird stuff. But I've been more anxious about new stuff or updates I share recently.

I don't blame you for wanting an out. Some users will poison one's experience of a platform, that even opening the site would give them anxiety. It doesn't take much to have events or projects soured. Often, just a few rude words is enough to make accounts disappear without a word. And many platform don't have good safety nets (blocking, moderation, reports) to temper or avoid these situations. Many will have half-ass solutions that, at the end of the day, still allows interactions from blocked users. It's easy to wonder if all of this is worth it...

Anyway, the very boring and short answer to your question: it depends.

The probably as boring and long one is a bit of a ramble:

It depends on the day, or the mood I have. It's easier to deal with comments when I'm confident and things are going find; but I'd feel more hurt or have a harder time dealing with them when I'm a bit more morose (I think most people feel this way). I'll disregard any (even barely) negative points some days, only to take it into consideration a few days later. <- this especially during jam/comps time, just need time to digest criticism of any kind.

It also depends on the content of the comment, their tone, and intent of the commenter. Not all negative comments are on the same level. I've had negative comments in the past where the commenter was genuine, and really gave my stuff a shot, bringing interesting points or important concerns. And though it hurt a bit, because being told you made a mistake sucks, those helped me grow. But those are the good kinds of comments...

On the other hand, I try to disregard the trolls, and the abusive comments (towards my work or me), the ones where the engagement was clearly not done in good faith... you know, the ones who will literally tell me I've made the world worse by uploading my games on itch. Doesn't mean that it doesn't affect me at all*. Some of them really hurt or made me angry and frustrated, some have lingered for hours or days in my mind, a few made me close to delete stuff as well. Words are not just empty things without meaning... *I've had to block a few people both here and other places recently because of it, they had become so insistent on wanting to engage with me while bashing most of my work, my values or the few aspects of my identity that I've shared online.

It would be easy to say I just don't give them the time of day or any of my energy, or that I pretend they don't exist, because, if I do, then the trolls win. But that would be lying. Obviously.

Screaming to the void/a pillow or ranting to friends have helped get rid of my anger and frustration. I've laughed with others about some comments I got (usually the bad faith ones, some of them are funny in how sad/bad they were). I think what worked best for me was just turn off the computer and go outside for a bit. Or turned off the internet and play silly games on my phone. Or picked up a book. Or watch a movie. Essentially, any activity that would distract me from it and force me to take a break. And when none of this worked, because some trolls are just that insistent, blocking/deleting stuff*. *unfortunately, it's not always possible, see second paragraph again.

It does suck that you're kinda forced to grow a thicker skin to enjoy or even exist in those spaces, and I wish those would be friendlier... but I don't think social platforms/the internet is going in that direction anytime soon.

Maybe not super helpful to your decision, but borogove.io hosts IF games (without ratings or comments, though people can download the files), so does the IFDB through the IFArchive (but there are ratings/reviews there, also can be downloadable). I've seen other peeps host their stuff on neocities (no ratings/comments). None of those platforms are like itch, in the positives or the negative. Or just be old school, and email stuff.

[toinfinitywinning]

How it Began? As a kid, until something bad happens all you know is innocence. Bounce back. Resilience. Words and thoughts your growing mind can’t get its synapses matured yet. And by bad, I mean it rocks you. You’re crying. You’re asking why for the first time poor thing it’s forever; you’re confused. You cannot process the magnitude of the incident and sometimes may even require Counseling to help guide you through it…NVR goes away.

And then.

I mean it’s sad, Right? Being born isn’t your introduction “hey!” realization and rationality Day, it’s your Birth Day. Period. Everyone’s glad you’re here. But you’re not going to know anything for a Long time. Everyone’s with me. Hopefully, b/c I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout no babies. And Well, most people R glad you’ve come unless you’re..ok no not that rn.

BUT

First time you are hurt and are able to process and internalize that new feeling it’s like welcome to the jungle we got fun and games! And I remember that moment for me. It wasn’t when I smacked my head and got hit with bats and sliced my fingers open trying to whittle (Dad’s fault) to make a teepee which now I’m not sure should be a thing. Also tried to make a tornado bottle like those science fair ppl had. The ones that won. B/c they actually figured out how to puncture a hole in a plastic 2 liter top without stitches and having to explain what in the Hell you were doing (Heather u said you might be here so I know you’re with the gear Shift trauma rn). For me until now it’s never been me physically hurt or incapable that’s defeating me—defeating—adjective : defeated—also adjective but untrue. This is different and I hate it b/c of that. I was born with vampire senses at least that’s what vampire diaries says. I feel everything so intensely that often it has trickled over to affecting me physically. I suppose a Good example is a panic attack but I’ve moved onto bigger things. I’ll be one of those ppl on ppl magazine whose ღ ended hearing bad News. This could get dark so I’ll Stop at bad News. It’s funny -I have all this time. And most of the time I don’t enjoy the time but I’ve thought a lot of that time some about when I was a kid. Just free fallin’. Before I got the anxious bug again I was fine being serendipitous and sporadic. One time I put a Friends name in my calendar even tho I knew I knew the time. That stuff. So back to the carefree kid. Like, 8+ I have to clearest memories. I want to take a sec to say how sad that is!! There is no question that I was the kid with the most bandaids. There are pictures and I Love them. Pain didn’t really bother me. Not like this. And I’ve had a lot of very serious injuries and surgeries. Why can’t I be her? It’s all about control.Sometimes staying in a State of any negative, sad emotion or trying time becomes comfortable so it becomes routine. Safe. This can Go downhill quickly. But I promise something from my psych minor talks about this my sister would know. Anyways you gotta get out and can’t.

I was in this State Right before I got sick but I pulled myself out of that creepy Ass Edgar Allen poem pit and swing thing b/c I didn’t like it anymore. But this is a Choice promise. And there’s not statute of limitations on how Long it takes you or if you even get to make a Choice time which is already a Mountain.I tend to be really open and candid. I would be a horrible Celebrity. First of all they’d only have pictures of me in sweatpants. But the openness isn’t for me or really anybody unless someone does see it and be seen. I never had that. And that’s no one’s fault. We didn’t have Smart phones which ironically give us cancer and often stupidity from the crap you read due to that algorithm. A few people reached out in my DM’s and on posts to just do this I guess and throw in a Basketball time to time.I was stuck. And I had well…a very eye opening bad experience. I don’t think I’ll ever share that publicly. But I was terrified. Something came over me when I got to my car and it wasn’t a Voice it was a direction. To home. Safety. Familiar. Routine. I knew sooner than immediately that I was done. That’s it. There’s a pattern in this pattern. You see?So all that is taken care of and now we will work on my eating Disorder. Anorexia, restrictive ED/exercise bulimia and body dysmorphia. You get it. Add this in with Addiction. Talk about stuck. All I can think of to compare it to is that scary book w/ a wizard and a whirlpool and IDEK how it ends but that was always enough for me to be done w/ that story. So, You’re bound to have one after losing 150 lbs over two and a half years and now can see your bones and muscles. Hey you’re confident again Good for you. This will not sustain. You lost weight probably all the wrong ways anyway but it worked. And you’re still in control. Things have changed and u know what to do to keep your skeleton up. One gust of wind or fainting and head stitches again having to hurry and tell your Apple Watch not to call the rescue’s and you’re an inch closer to hospitalization. Doin’ fine.All I had Left was my eating Disorder to work on and I’d made so much progress. I’ll expand on this but you actually have to eat when you’re sick. I won’t thank COVID-19 for that tho. Sometimes u can follow all the rules and still get *BEEP, explicative!* sooner or later it would have risen. So that infamous Day I’d just finished my hour walk and like had been doing about to eat w/ my Parents. I remember it like it wasn’t a 26 month old toddler Day away. One sniff. Mom -please get COVID tested. I remember being annoyed. B/c I have taken all the precautions. Well so do a lot of people and things still happen OUT of our control. This became the problem. Two saddest things about that next few days is I made my Dad say Shit when I came up positive then gave it to my Mom. I cannot tell you the guilt I would be carrying had this been the other Way around.I had lived my Addiction free Life and started to heal my ED rest of my Life. For 3 weeks. I felt so light. Felt so free. Brave and proud. More authentic. B/c being stuck and not being able to fix things yourself takes a lot of deleted Pride and bad bad bad experiences apparently. Wakey wakey. Why’s it gotta be that Way? At least it’s the Gentry way. I’d rather not keep that up.Crushed. Pre healing I couldn’t Exercise for 2-4 hours daily. Wake up at 5 am still kinda dazed and do 100 push-up’s then 10lb weights, several sets. Not one thing from a video or trainer but i can see everything chiseled so gotta be doing something right. Then walk a mile and a half or 10000 steps before you even answer a call at work. All this to have your evening free. To see your ribs and sometimes ✔ the camera Cloud to make sure that 10 pound added weight doesn’t happen. Showering at lunch break. Oh it was a machine. And ppl knew. I’m very aware. I lean toward empathy as well.

I was very very sick. Different sick. And TBH as much of Hell this is and might forever be I’d rather this. Even a broken ღ that was your stupidity and blinders anyway. Although I cannot control this it’s not an intensity of emotion in those skinny Ass bones I can’t turn off anymore. Need size zero and xs. Ghastly. I can answer a question of would you rather in this Case. My ღ literally aches. It’s all of the omnipresent and then some. So intense and relentless. I could change my mind tomorrow. Right now.

This Pain is Physical. Not my fault. Wasn’t abused. Can’t control this either and I’d never wish it on all but one person but idk. I feel things that intensely. I’d be the X-Ray Report that says torn or damaged in about nine places after my ACL tear. The Report was an entire page LOL. That is not common I don’t think. Should’ve just said everything is bad take your 2nd of now Four ambulance trips with your Dad to the ER.

Let me be clear. This is very hard to put into words. It’s less I guess that I wouldn’t barter but sometimes you’re just like please give me that Pain instead, just for a while.

Right now I am comfortable in Pain. Isn’t that pathetic yet tragic? I meannn. Whole body Pain. It’s emotional too trust me but this it takes first. Imagine…the control freak. This is not acute. Feeling without Pain even temporarily is kinda scary and better word unsettling. You want to get better of course but your body has done such a 180 that it becomes what you’re worried about and what makes you nervous. It’s an evil Domino set mouse wheel. Let me also add that long-haul Covid and dysautonomia and pots all of them happened because my body had gotten so healthy again it went in overdrive to try to help me and then couldn’t stop. How nice. Kindly. I’ve learned things about my body and about what people can experience and I didn’t want to. I will never again scoff at someone for saying that they are debilitated because, they are in constant pain or too “tired”... They can’t be safely aware. I’m ashamed I ever thought that about people because there is no take a Tylenol and lay down. There is no taking a nap and you’ll wake up refreshed. That’s all bullshit at this point, and it hurts if you have to ever explain it because you can’t, like so many other things until it happens to you you don’t really know how you feel like a lot of things you can swear that you’ll react one way or the other but when something happens to your kid or someone you love (dare i say abortion as a topic) all the sudden it’s personal and you’re thinking something you never thought you would. Or not. The struggle is actually real.



There is a lot of trauma or some type of PTSD with being this sick for this long as well because you sit comfortably, you know exactly what’s going to happen. If then, then that some of which are terrifying I shake I can’t believe anyone has to deal with this and yet I’m not even one of the most serious cases if you can believe that. Then there’s the Gaslighting. Go to stone ridge and admit yourself for anxiety. NAH. Thankfully all of my docs have been first class with no doors blown off.

I want to say I’ve learned a lesson.. karma. I deserve this. I should’ve seen it coming. Let me be clear again. No one deserves this and yet we’re human and stuff still happens to good and bad people. losing control has been difficult, but I feel like I’ve learned so much about, literal heartache and pain that only someone who was going through the same thing can identify with. there aren’t words. I’m not trying to paint a picture of someone who is on oxygen and dying or taking chemo, but I think that you can hold sadness in several different ways without feeling guilty. you can own What you’re going through. it’s OK to be angry at God at anything and I’ve had to realize that and it’s taken a long time and I think I still am working on it because I think I’m over here. not famished. not taken hostage. not bombed. I have a bed to lay in when I feel bad. U can’t compare things like this and you shouldn’t anyway. I think in doing that it’s never productive anyway. I don’t like being helped which is ironic because I have some co dependencies still and yearning to stay close to what is familiar and home and safe I’ve had to put my or whatever aside and my confidence out the window because yes, you will gain weight not exercising that much but you literally can’t do things at first. I was using a cane to get to the bathroom. I would pant no exaggeration like a dog for at least an hour sometimes after walking 10 feet, ask my mom she was on the couch across from me and we’re both thinking what just happened. or you have to use spoons because you’re shaking so much. Don’t even try a fork w/ rice. or you’re so confused that you always have to have what I would say and interpreter at this point, and praise God that there r doctors surrounding me. I have needed so much help and I think part of accepting help is also allowing someone else to practice stewardship and I think somewhere possibly the Bible at some point you can’t continue to deny someone’s help because they have to have the experience of helping and we both know each feeling. Frankly need it sometimes there are things that not even Gentry will speak of that I’ve gone through but somehow I’m thinking wow Pooh bear was correct. I really am stronger than I seem and I thought that the last time I was in a bad place life is nuts except help, if you don’t have the hope or faith let your family hold it for you. It’s still there. You just can’t get it yet and I cringe to say it, but I have learned so much and whether I heal completely or not writing all this again is therapeutic one, but two when people can identify with someone else, it is a very intimate experience the kind of intensity I feel with everything. I tell people I don’t want to hear ‘you’re going to get better’ because you don’t know that. we can pray for it, but I’ve given prayer a hard time as I’m able to complain, not going to church routinely. Then again going to church is just the building. Sadly tru 4 2 many. a reflection of your yearning for community and a place of hope and routine. we know from the current state in this world that going in a church and coming back out there’s nothing Christian about it, but I’m thankful that I have been held. I’ve even asked. Dad has even had to hang onto me. I’ve been in a wheelchair. I’ve had a bed pan. things that would normally humiliate you. You get humbled immediately. You may have your arms and legs, but there will be times you will need to be pried off the floor, there will be times that your head stays on a cold marble kitchen counter for hours because you don’t have the strength to walk 20 steps to your bed. Covid sucks. it has ruined lives, marriages, people have gone bankrupt. People have died. Mistreated. People have had experiences much worse than mine, and they didn’t deserve it either even if they didn’t take precaution like I did which is part of why I was so frustrated with getting sick. and again i was at that point I had gotten healthy. So ofc, the more prone your body go into hyperdrive. Trying to heal you. and that’s still where I’m at.

[joshriku]

Hi!!! I just read how do you sleep at night, your WandaJericho fic, and I'm having so many feels right now!!! Wanda's decision to getting a break from her relationship with Jericho made me like, oh wanda!

Her getting constantly anxious that nothing big is happening after their semi breakup was so sad. Girl is having grief in her romantic and maternal life since Vision's disassembling. It happens in reality too, when you are having constant drama and trauma in your life, you can't just suddenly adapt to peace. And you just start creating the drama and the unstable ness, whether you want it or not. Self Sabotage, or craving drama, you name it.

But the consequences that come with it—what always happens when she loves too much, the things that get ruined, the life she tries so hard to keep under control—it’s all so paralyzing. It’s as paralyzing as this touch. Oh dear!

And Jericho was so supportive! He was extremely right to be hurt, but I think he must have gotten an inkling later(maybe pietro?) about why is she behaving like that. I loved their Astral plane conversations, and "simply souls waving each other hello." This is so good!!

Also pietro!!! I loved how he just knew why Wanda is behaving like this. Self Sabotage indeed. The twin sense must have gotten activated. He is actually more emotionally intelligent about people he loves and cares, so that wasn't a surprise when he knew what wanda didn't want to admit yet. Also I knew it when he said he likes Jericho! Honorable mention Wanda's thought on how easy is to fight with pietro. Hope next years mini does twins justice.

Also Happy New Year!!

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 happy new year!! firstly thank you so much for such a lovely ask it really means a lot that you'd take the time to let me know you liked my writing, i really appreciate it!!!! 🥺🫶 already made my 2024 a great year!!

second AHHHHHH THANK YOU.. I LOVE WANDAJERICHO SO MUCH. ever since SW #9 when they reveal they're inexplicably exes / still have feelings but with "no strings" i've been like. oh?? what?? 😭 at first i was like, oh thats funny they dont strike me as characters who'd do No Strings Attached thing. but then i gave it more thought and started thinking of ways they COULD be and wanda essentially growing uneasy and anxious over a relationship that was going so well, when she is so used to things going wrong, came to me and i was like ohhh yes... thats it... now we got it 🫵 i can see her cutting things out before them getting "ruined". i really wanted it to be like, this relationship is *fine* and thats whats freaking her out!!

when i wrote this i wrote jericho with the intention that he knew exactly why she did it, but knowing it didnt change that she did hurt him, and the whole crutch of this story being that theyre both unequivocally very in love with each other still. still the case does remain that jericho is also very committed to his duties in the academy, esp after everything they went through - something wanda would also know firsthand. i think all those student deaths/the death of doctor strange/mandatory other marvel events would take its toll on anyone tbh i can see them trying to put at least a pause on everything while they try to fix the world. As Usual. i didnt write jericho immediately taking back wanda too because, yknow, it takes two to tango! BUT THEYRE SO GONNA WORK IT OUT. BECAUSE THEY LOVE EACH OTHER THATS THE WHOLE POINT.. THEY NEVER STOPPED..IN MY HEAD. CAUSE I SAID SO AND THEYRE MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT SHIP...

and AHH THANK YOU.. pietro in that fic was my favorite part 🫶 he loves wanda and hes really good friends with jericho of course hed have a deeper understanding of whats going on! i think pietro is a lot more emotionally intelligent than what most writers give him credit for. and if theres anyone who knows about self sabotaging or recognizing it on someone itd be him, and ESPECIALLY on wanda. defo one of my fave scenes to write in that fic 🥹 MAXIMOFF TWINS MY BELOVED..

Anyway this was a really long reply just to say that thank you SO much and this ask made my whole year and i am really grateful that you liked my fic!!!!!!! i liked writing it too!!! 💛💛💛

[unknownjpegs]

rat and executioner

He uses his chest armor, propped up against a tree as a mirror. It hardly works—Xavier’s is dusty and dented and more than a little worn. He thinks about polishing it sometimes, but it hardly feels worth it. Just gets dinged up again, don’t it?

Still, this is a ritual for him. Never grows tired of it, even if sometimes his emotions waver over the old tradition. Days when he feels elated, hopeful, fingers working through his hair quickly. Excited. Other days when he’s staring at himself, at the dull and warped reflection, his green eyes forest like and sad, he wishes he could stop. Never would—never would. Yet, his heart grows so heavy sometimes, waterlogged and leaking.

Xavier begins by coming out his gnarled red hair. Admittedly doesn’t do this bit often enough. Uses his fingers mostly to yank through his waves. Most days, he thinks of cutting his hair short, but then, well, he wouldn’t have the braid. When that’s over with, he stretches out his back and then sits again on the ground. He pauses, wonders, will I look that different to him when he sees me after all these years?

“I could help you.”

The lady’s voice yanks him out of his reverie, pulls him instantly to a present that doesn’t smell of hay and horse and him. Xavier looks over to her as she approaches. Those softly slippered feet that are sure to be hurting in time. He thinks they’ll have to stop in a town, buy her something better. Can’t risk bringing her in, but how do you get a woman shoes if she can’t try them on? He bites his lips, still looking at her feet before she shuffles closer.

“Ser?”

“Oh,” he tilts his head back to take her in. Despite travel, Jyra doesn’t look tattered or worn. Yet, at least. Only a little tired, likely use to longer rest than he can allow them. Up as soon as the sun begins to touch the sky, orange and pink and beautiful. “With what?”

Jyra crouches, wrapping arms around her knees. Her smile is softly beautiful. She looks like all the paintings of women he’s seen, radiant, with graceful cheekbones and dainty chins. Her nose has a smattering of freckles, not even a fraction of the ones that wash over him. But she’s different, because she smiles at him. She shouldn’t grace him with such favors considering the difference in their stations, and it always makes him a little anxious.

“Your hair,” she offers, looking at where one of his hands has poised itself. “I am,” Jyra pauses and her eyes divert to the ground, her cheeks spilling beautifully pink. “Well, I am good at it.”

Truly. Her own hair was braided in fine fashion; it had been tucked up properly when they’d first started traveling together. Only now, she let it hang over her shoulder. Sometimes, Xavier had such a strong and mysterious urge to take it in his hands and feel how soft it was.

“Ah,” he replies, suddenly not knowing what to say. She looks so kind that he thinks, maybe. Wouldn’t it be nice? To have someone be kind to him? But, he thinks instead, of him, forcing Xavier onto a hay bale with those strong arms. His hands brushing into his red hair, fingers more deft than they’d seemed. Braiding from the temple back and Xavier getting to look up at him while he did. And he had looked; eyes lifted and staring, watching while he’d talked. Xavier can feel that voice. Somewhere.

“I’m sorry, my lady. It’s that—Someone very special to me used to do this. And I—” Xavier swallows the roughness in his throat, looks at the warbled view of himself in his plate armor. “I do it to remember him, is all.” And begs for it to not stay a memory forever. Can’t bear it only ever being a memory.

There’s a brief pause before Jyra leans closer to him.

“Would you like to talk about him, maybe?”

Xavier is stunned that she’d ask. So much so that he openly stares at her, with his jaw unhinged. She’s grinning ear to ear when she courageously leans in and touches his chin. Jyra gently prods his mouth close and he laughs, turning away from her because, its not right for him to stare at her like this. Nor was it for her to touch him. And yet.

He looks back to the armor and his hands begin working through his hair. He starts the braid at the same place, every time, and he follows the path it had first been braided into so long ago.

“He almost killed me with an axe, the first time we met.” He starts the story for her there. It’s his favorite part.

—

The tree blocks the path onward. The kings road has narrowed, a dusty trail between dark, thick forestry—it presses in on them, heavy and creaking with the wind. Alive and full of—well. Xavier stares at the fallen tree and already knows what’s going to happen.

“That looks bad,” Eddard says, on the other side of Hilda, his mare. His voice is flat and tired, but it has a note of knowing tension. Hilda side steps, immediately anxious and aware, nostrils flared. Xavier pats her neck softly, murmuring to her soothing words before he glances up to Jyra.

“Stay on my horse,” he whispers to her. She looks down at him, brows pinched in confusion. She doesn’t have any idea what a tree on the road means. “When they come out, turn Hilda and run. Eddard and I will come find you after—”

But when he looks down the way they’d come, the man is already there. Blocking them against the tree—and when he looks back to that, head snapping quickly to the side, she stands there now. Trapping them in. The wind rustles the leaves, a soft skittering sound as one slips over the road. It makes Hilda snort, stomp a hoof.

Xavier takes two steps back from his horse and slowly unsheathes the sword at his hip. Hilda is trained well, but still makes noises of contempt, muted nickering sounds, eyes rolling a little. He thinks for a moment to yank the horse around, to turn her and see if Jyra could make it past the man. But when his eyes return there, he watches as he hefts a poleaxe.

Horse slayer. Used to spear the poor creatures directly in the chest and bring them—and knights—down to die on the ground. Xavier’s mouth goes dry.

“Can you help us?” The woman calls out and he doesn’t want to turn his head from the man, who is cloaked and dark. Even from this distance, Xavier can tell he’s big. Not always a good thing in a fight, but—

“She’s asking for help,” Jyra says quickly, hopefully. “Maybe—”

“Yes!” The woman laughs as she begins to approach. “We’ve lost our way.” Xavier feels sweat gathering on his back, sliding down, making him shiver. His sword is a familiar weight in his hands, comforting, but not enough. She’s small, like Jyra is, but bulky with gear. Thick, padded armor and a cap on her head that nearly obscures bouncing brown curls. But they poke out wildly (remind him, distantly of curls he’d brushed his hand through, had kissed) and her face is pale and beautiful.

She has a slash of a scar across her eye and a sword on her back.

“He’s done that,” Xavier says, pointing to the tree.

“With his bare hands,” the woman replies, hands on her hips. He doesn’t like the way she says it. Not to impress; to warn. “Are you going to help us, or will this become difficult?”

“I have coin,” Jyra says, her voice a high note of frantic and Xavier briefly shuts his eyes. He wants to tell her, this is not a story. And some thieves do not just want coin.

“Well,” the thief claps her hands, laughing, looking at Xavier with big, delighted eyes. He hears the sound of heavy footsteps, but her eyes are so terrifyingly red and predatory that he can’t look to watch the man approach them. He feels prey fear skittering up his spine. Xavier thinks, he could take them. They’re underestimating him, because he’s young and he’s pretty—and they always underestimate him for that exact reason.

But Jyra. And Eddard. His sword dips slightly and the woman smiles wider.

“Lay it down, knight,” the man says behind him. His voice is slightly accented and soft. When Xavier tilts his head to look at him, he’s obscured entirely by a hood. An executioners hood, it looks like. For a brief, solitary moment, he wants to laugh at that. An executioner and a thief. Instead he slowly sheaths the sword.

“It was my fathers,” Xavier replies, slowly bending to put it to ground.

“Who gives a shit?” the woman laughs. But the executioner gently puts a booted foot on it and shoves the sword away carefully. Seems oddly respectful about it, until the sharp blade of the poleaxe comes up to meet Xavier’s throat.

“Please! No—Don’t hurt him,” Jyra is whimpering as she scrambles from the horse, as she drops down clumsily. Her stumble is caught by Eddard, quickly, whose darted to the other side of Hilda—Maker fucking bless the man, but he immediately puts himself between her and the hooded monster. A blade sinks into the ground directly between them, though. Their backs are to her now.

“Step toward my husband again, bitch—I’ll open your fuckin’ throat.”

Fat tears roll down Jyra’s cheeks—they’re pale, color drained out of her, red rimmed eyes giant which makes her freckles stand out. Xavier’s eyes met Eddard’s. Sweats collected on his forehead as his hand slowly goes to his belt knife.

“I don’t recommend tha’.” The lady thief stalks toward them. “Move away from the horse, or he’ll lose his head.” She’s barking at them now, and Eddard seems to try and angle their departure from Hilda in a way that still keeps Jyra behind him. He’s tall—not like the one standing beside Xavier, weapon cool and ready against his throat. But the kitchen servant looks capable, in ways that they might underestimate. He’d taken that knife with a hand that seemed like it understood how it worked.

But Jyra. They can’t, not with her.

“Get him on the ground. Don’t like how big he is,” the woman says petulantly. All at once Xavier’s feet are swept out from under him and he clangs to the ground, chin snapping up and sharp canines cutting into his lip. The blood is immediate and hot, tangy and slips out from his lips messy with spit. Jyra’s calling out again—a plea for mercy, but the giant’s foot pins him down. Grinds, hard. No mercy for him. Not now.

She begins her ransacking, tearing open packs, digging through things. Xavier watches the poleaxe sink into the ground directly beside his shoulder. A warning. He closes his eyes and breathes evenly. Hopes that these thieves don’t see what his thief had seen—that Jyra was someone important, of value. Otherwise he and Eddard were looking at slit throats and Jyra—well, it’d be worse for Jyra.

When the bags are done, the woman stands in front of Xavier and smiles. There is a long stretch of time where she merely looks down at him while he looks up, flat to his stomach. Blood drips onto the dirt below him. His hands grip into it. Fury slips through his bones, makes him snap his teeth together, glare at her. It only seems to make her smile grow wider and wider and wider. Then she turns and begins walking toward the other two and Xavier regrets it.

“Leave them alone!” He shouts, trying to struggle his way out from under the beast above him. “I said, leave them alone, you fucking—” the boot crushes harder on his back and makes him wheeze, makes blood spit out from his mouth in a tiny splatter.

“Leave them alone, leave them alone,” she mocks him, in high pitched joy. “Oh, Leon, don’t kill him yet. I want him to watch.” And then the brute bends, picks Xavier up by the neck of his armor and makes him kneel. The poleaxe comes up again, the thin blade catching underneath his chin. It splits his skin, only a little—but that little bit shows how sharpened it is. How much this monster must love his weapon.

“I won’t let you hurt her,” Eddard says, the��shhhing sound of his belt knife leaving the sheath loud. He says it confidently—chin tilted down, eyes hard and toward her. Xavier licks the blood off his lip, breathes haggard and hard. The executioner shifts slightly and ah. That clicks into place with husband. He does have a weak point then. It’s the little thief. And if Eddard can exploit that…

But she only laughs and draws that sword from her back. It’s polished beautifully, lovingly cared for. She hefts it a little, swings it in an arc, handle gracing the back of her hand, in expert form. Catches it deftly. Fuck, Xavier thinks. Fuck, she’s trained.

Then, instead of cutting Eddard’s head from his body, she drives it into the wet earth.

“Princess,” she whispers, leaning over it, smiling. “Little bit greedy, ain’t it? Two men and you? One on either end of ya, if I can boldly ask?”

“Do not—” Eddard begins, his cheeks ruddy, same time as Xavier,

“How dare you—”

And Jyra’s giant wet eyes look horrified with the knowledge that someone can simply speak to her that way; didn’t even need to use a blade to hurt her. The insult has cut deep to the romantic, tender girl’s heart and Xavier bites his bleeding lip and looks to the dreary, gray sky. How to get this fucking executioner to focus on his wife, to get his sword. To help.

“Chivalrous. M’killing them slow, then.” She leans further over the sword, chin to the hilt as she smiles. “Pretty girl, watch. I want to give you nightmares.” Then she swipes her hands up and over her eyes, as if playing a game with a child. Xavier watches, in mute and terrified fascination as she slowly drags those hands down her face—what was once a red brown has gone entirely milky white. Fingers hook into the lower lids and drag, make them look haunting and dead. “Bleh,” she says, unceremoniously.

Then the rats descend.

Screaming, shrieking, hundreds of them. They blanket the forest floor in writhing, black, gray, white mass. Xavier watches them, his mouth gaping open. Hears Hilda screaming, hears her heavy hooves trying to stomp, until she gives up and runs. Her gallop echoes in his ears, in his head and heart, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the pestilent horde. The plague that’s swarming them.

Eddard pulls Jyra, swiftly, into his arms—but that means he can’t use his knife. She’s clinging around his neck, barely suppressing a scream as the man attempts to shake his legs to stop the rats from worming up his body.

And the woman laughs, but her laughs slowly become an open mouth of rat sounds. Squeaks and shrills.

“Leon—kill the knight,” she says, in the voice of a thousand rodents.

Xavier thinks, no. Please. I told him to wait for me. I told him I’d come back.

***

“Need that back,” Lark says, pushing a knife into his boot. His eyes scan the room in attempt to find the last one, but the swish of his cloak draws his eyes.

“Need a new one,” Matilda sneers, in her pretty way; which would annoy him usually, but she’s wrung him out. Satiated him into submission, or at the very least, he’s not as quick to snip back at her. The cloak is perfect for him, so naturally, it’s short on her. Skims up across her shins, her pale skin revealed. And although he’s seen her stark naked, Lark perks up a little at the delicate bone in her ankle.

“Like that one just fine.” He leans back with his hands braced on the bed they’d just made a thorough mess of. “Fits me.” Lark is not self conscious of his height, in a world of tall, gallant knights. Being short makes it easy to get into places he shouldn’t—and besides. Not like it deterred her from him. His eyes linger on those pale ankles, her bare feet.

Matilda can practically read his mind—or at the very least, his perverse and open stare—so she slides her leg from the cloak. She’s nude underneath it. He’ll smell like her now; herbs and spices and something sensual he can’t name. It lingers on his tongue. She has creamy skin, soft and warm and his hands, in his gloves twitch.

“Give me my cloak,” he says and raises a hand for it. Instead, she trails to his provisions. A hint of her body is revealed from the slit in the cloak. It almost makes him groan. She puts a fingernail against an apple, half poking from his pack. She begins to dig into it. “Matilda. Do not bruise my fruit.” It makes her snicker and he rolls his eyes up to the ceiling.

“Make sure you don’t rest on the road until you’re well deep in the forest. Eat the apple when it’s too thick for anyone to see you from the road.” All things he knows—and she says it in a dreamy, soft voice that makes him think she’s less telling him thief knowledge than she’s thinking aloud. She turns to him then, the cloak opening again and making him fall flat back against the bed with an annoyed huff. He listens to the swish of the cloak, glances down as she finds herself between his knees.

“Was meant to be on that road by now,” he mumbles. She leans over him, the cloak opening, falling over her bare shoulders. Lark’s eyes trail over her collarbone, down her breasts—focus far too hard on her pert, pink nipples. The witches hands come to rest on his thighs and her gaze strays down to his belt—that he’d just gotten back on. “Matilda, I am losing daylight—ah.”

He falls quiet when her knee wedges between his and drag over what’s already beginning to harden again, not unkindly. Suggestive, even as her grin curls a little mean.

Alright, Lark thinks. Maybe another.

—

He should stop them.

Lark’s teeth sink into the half eaten apple. A bit of juice slips down his chin and he scruffs it away with his gloved hand. He should definitely intervene. Especially when Mouse does her plague thing—nasty that. Lark watches the rats, swarming, roving and loud. He bites into the apple again, gets a chunk and chews.

Then he looks at it, in wonder. Maker. Did women always know something he didn’t?

It makes Lark sigh as he tosses the core into the forest. He kneels on the branch, pulling the crossbow from its latch on his back. Steadies himself as he raises it. He breathes in, holds that breath in his chest with practiced, steady motion and when he releases the bolt, it finds the target. Straight into the tree just directly beside Mouse.

Then he has to jump, quickly, because the poleaxe becomes a spear—crashes through the branches and slams into the tree. It had only narrowly missed him, nearly caught the shoulder of his cloak, or his actual shoulder. Would have pinned him, shattered his bones. Lark has seen Leon use that weapon in ways that make men into pulp.

As he steps onto the road, Lark scoops up one of the many rats. Pinches it between his fingers. It shrieks, scrambling until he lifts a finger and pets it softly on its belly. The little creatures squirming halts a little before he can plop it into his palm.

“Hoo there, Pied Piper.” Lark calls out, avoiding more of the rats as he continues forward.

Mouse looks at him, with those horrendous white eyes. Her mouth is open and a rats tail whips from it, up along her cheekbone. The revulsion is instant, a crawling, disgusting feeling covering his body.

“Put my rat down,” she says in that layered, terrible voice.

“Hello, Leon,” Lark calls, ignoring her.

“Lark,” the giant, hooded man greets back. “Are you well?”

“As one can be during these dreary and miserable times.” He shakes a rat from his boot. “Would you kindly release my knight? Don’t much like the look of that blood on his chin.” Xavier is panting, pulling in air through a wheeze. He’s got a rib injury, an old one, that makes Lark a little nervous to look at him and see that wet red. His eyes dart toward the woman and the servant, like he’s trying to get Lark’s attention to them.

Instead, he rolls his eyes.

“Apologies about your poleaxe, friend. Needed to disarm you.”

“I am not truly disarmed, Lark,” Leon replies. Then he releases Xavier, pushing him gently away. The knight scrambles up and looks like he might go for them—but Leon raises a hand in warning.

“Mouse?” He holds the rat aloft slightly. Slowly, the rat queen unfolds from her position over her sword. She tilts her head, a white eye aimed at him. Then she grunts and slaps hands over her eyes. Upon removing them, he’s greeted by that red-brown—and the rats scatter. Back to wherever they go when they’re waiting for her. Even the cute, white one in his hand scurries, down his arm and away.

“You tryin’ to steal my mark?” She snaps, petulant and annoyed.

“This is Red Barron territory. You paying him out a cut?”

“Killed the Red Barron,” Leon says in his gentle voice. Alright then. It was Pied Piper and The Executioner King’s territory now. Pleasant.

“Then I will simply be taking my knight and leaving.”

“Lark!” Xavier seethes, stepping toward him.

“Headache,” Lark snaps back. The knight’s face turns red in anger and Lark knows that anger. Knows that, Leon without his weapon is still terrifying. Still dangerous, but that Xavier, when mad, is a thing of primal, dog like fury. His eyes slide to Mouse, who has a hand on the hilt of her sword.

The cordiality between the three thieves is not necessarily born out of having the same career—or having worked together in the past. They’re dancing around what all three of them know is the truth. Xavier could kill Leon. Lark could kill Mouse. This is why things haven’t gone sideways yet—that being the key fucking word and is Xavier get’s up in arms, if he dives for that heirloom sword—Lark snorts and folds his arms across his chest.

“The servant and the woman too.”

“I’m keeping the woman.”

“You are not,” the servant man snarls, clutching the woman closer. Though the rats are gone, he’s not yet put her down. Lark slaps a hand to his forehead in exasperation. This is why he just didn’t deal with women like this. Noble, high and mighty, snotty with noses in the air, pinching their skirts as they walked. She looked properly terrified from Mouse’s rat show, but it doesn’t make him empathetic so much as it makes him tired.

“Mouse,” he says, stepping toward her. Leon shifts and he watches Xavier’s perceptive, gleaming eyes catch that movement too. He’s not stupid, not the way they always think he is; pegged the big guy for the soft one. Of course. “You owe me.”

She stares at him, lips pouty and eyes ice cold. She lifts the sword from the earth and then swipes it through the crux of her elbow to clean the dirt. She sheaths it slowly and tilts her head this way and that.

“Their lives are yours.” She looks back at the servant and the woman, curls a sneering lip. “But I’m keeping their fuckin’ gold.”

—

When the thief duo departs, much richer than they’d started, Lark approaches the lady. Wants to see a bit what the fuss is. She’s shaking, all over, trembling like a leaf, or a wet kitten. He thinks she’s pretty, of course. They’re bred to be that way aren’t they? He can smell her noble blood and finds it lacking, but yes, she’s pretty. High cheekbones and fine brows. Truthfully, Lark would have gone for the servant before her, who he also offers a respectful brow.

“Thanks for not letting us die,” he replies, in a deadpan voice. Yes. Okay, Lark likes this one.

“Lady,” he greets, with a little bit of a bow.

“Thank you. Y-You have my gratitude and we are in your debt.” She is tucked slightly behind the servant a little, her hand wrapped around his arm. For a moment, Lark considers what Matilda might actually have done in this situation—of course, she’d probably end up friends with the Pied Piper and it’d just be a fucking mess for him.

Ah fuck. Thinking of her again. He blinks rapidly, forgetting for a moment he’s meant to respond.

“Apologies, my lady. Believe my lady cursed me—anytime I’m ‘round one of the opposite sex, visions of her flash behind my eyelids.” The woman, noble (or not, he snickers to himself) and dignified looked more than a mite mortified by him. Tucks herself further behind her servant. “Don’t feel too badly for me. She’s wearing naught but my cloak, so it is not an awful curse, I assure you, princess.” Her recoil was even harder at that.

Actually, Lark had paid a curse-sniffer to check for that; let the haggard old, sweaty man shove his nose right into his hair and scramble about him. In the end, the poor blind man had only shrugged and said, ‘Pologies, master, don’t fink you got no curse. Finkin’ you got yourself a l’il curse o’ feelings, s’all.

Hm. Well. He turned from her then, back to Xavier.

“Told you so,” Lark said as they approached one another.

“Don’t get me started—I’m very mad at you right now.” He slides his sword into his belt, adjusting it a little. The blood on his chin is mostly wiped away, but it lingers around the corner of his mouth. Lark takes his face in his hands, rubbing his thumb there, grinding the red into his pale skin. “A witch.” He says softly, pinching brows together.

“Ah, the medicine didn’t work?”

“No—it smelled awful and did nothing. A witch, Lark?”

“A very, very beautiful one.”

Xavier claps hands over his shoulders in exhaustion.

“Thank you,” Xavier says earnestly, patting Lark’s cheek in affection, shaking him slightly. He’s so tall, he makes Lark feel miniature sometimes, like he could pluck him up and toss him over his shoulder. “You could come with us, you know. I could use maybe a little extra protection.” The thief snorts and rolls his eyes skyward, looks at all that gray. Oddly enough a flock of black birds dart across the sky, smooth and agile and beautiful.

“Think I have better things to do, Baby. You finish your quest. Thieves don’t have those, you know. Just marks—and—” He blinks at the sky, watches the last bird slide away. “Hm. Forgot what I was going to say.”

“I have to find my horse.”

“She went that way.” Lark offers, helpfully, with a toothy grin as he points down the way he’d just traveled from.

[dumbbitchfrommars]

should i be getting rid of his stuff?? somehow i feel his energy is around me if i keep it. i can feel his presence all the time. like im lowkey obsessing over the thought/idea of him. its understandable and im not upset over it, he was genuinely the best i ever had. ive said this multiple times now. its not a huge deal, cause its only up from here. and he wont be the best forever. but like its a shift. a positive shift in my standards for men.

ive always said i need to experience things to really learn and the consequence of a mistake leaves me with the gift of wisdom and knowledge. so ill never regret it. but yeah... im done. so i should probably get rid of his stuff?

its crazy how much energy can stick. its literally like something is compelling me to attach to him. something so addictive and hard to resist? like almost like magic? its strange. i only knew this man so briefly and im completely sucked in. like no one ive ever experienced before.

maybe its BECAUSE it was so brief that im so addicted? it was so long ago but i cant forget. everything is so incredibly vivid in my memory. it was so exciting, like being with him was so magnetic and our energies literally bounced off eachother. like what? was that lovebombing ? it felt so real and unlike something ive had with someone.... actually, i did with my ex. i think something like it. could it be something in me changed? no. he brought that side out in me. but not many guys can...

hmm. im starting to rethink ghosting him so soon. but he was ignoring me for days! no. hes not the idea you have of him. he switched up. no grown man does that to a girl he cares about. also, hes all of 24 and doesnt know that being that kind of guy is so fucking cringe and going to leave you single for longer??? but then i come back around to my main, anxious, pointless idea - maybe he never intended to be in a relationship, and had some desire to know (insecure?) that i WOULD be in a relationship with him, and after achieving getting me to come around - manipulating me? playing me - just lost interest? textbook time waster. and then that brings me to the idea that what kind of person finds satisfaction in that? like how mentally ill can you be?? then i feel bad for him. cause thats so sad...

im literally so happy and abundant and radiant on my own, that i think guys think using their usual tactics and playing games somehow works in claiming that energy for themself. the reality is, they'll feel it for a split second, and once i leave, theyll never forget how they fumbled the most authentic person theyll probably ever meet or have the privilege of knowing. you cant steal my personality and my energy for yourself. i am smarter than that now. i know im an earth angel and my energy is so precious for the people who do matter.

you hurt me but youre only helping me in calling in the next lesson in for my growth.

okay i went on a stoned tangent there.

another interesting thing about this situation is the typical flashbacks to my ex that i get after a failed relationship. its really unlikely hed still have the exact same personality as the guy i dated, but the way we connected at the time still feels very profound and unlike any relationship i have had since. like pivotal in my development.

my heart was fully open and i was all in with him. and he was with me. like... thats crazy. and the way we'd be playful with eachother... it was amazing.

and then i meet this guy, and in one hour he has established that comfortable, flirty, playful banter between us so authentically. and by the next morning he made me feel comfortable enough to do the most crazy things in bed with him. reading that back sounds like a red flag. i dont know. it was fun.

maybe i need to consider why the fuck i am so attracted to toxicity, if that is the case and i just happened to ignore a billion red flags. i need to debrief with chloe to find out if this is true.

its not a redflag! it was fun. it was everything i needed it to be. it was everything that happened after we separated that was the red flag. im kind of just glad he was normal while we were together so i could enjoy the fun of it.

this has been a riveting, worthwhile experience.

one of my core memories is watching a late night movie as a child on a random channel where a writer was cheating on her husband with another married couple where there was a specific scene of the other man upset at her because writers care about experiences/their writing more than other people.

ever since that day... i feel like thats been central in my life. i really just was to be confident and comfortable in myself enough to do anything that will thicken the plot, or give me more understanding about life. any crazy thing. any rebellious thing. anything that might be disapproved of. because i can.

i did it because i could and it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. and it ended up being a once in a lifetime experience. and im glad it gets to stay perfect in its little bubble of one random weekend at the end of spring...

anyways. fucking hell girl. GIRL , MOVE ON!!!! in my sassy mans words, move on.

[fecundaratis]

i dont wanna write creatively about it today.

today, i just feel sad and empty.

for the last month or so, ive been having panic attacks. not every day, a few times a week at most i think. every other day maybe.

my whole body tenses up. i shrink myself as small as i can. my neck and shoulders are killing me. i dont even realize its happening.

my partner notices something off. asks if im ok. if i want a hug. and i freeze and start panicking. no, dont, dont you fucking touch me. get away. im holding my breath for minutes at a time, completely unaware that im even doing it. they tell me to breathe and it just makes me angrier. im pissed off that theyre trying to help me. pissed off that they noticed something was wrong. when they walk towards me slowly, like theyre trying to calm a feral neighborhood cat, i get this instinct to run as fast as i can. to hide. to become invisible until they stop looking for me. instinctively, i feel that once they stop looking for me, it will be safe to come out.

but i never do that. because they arent so pushy as to make me finally take that step. they tell me gently to take deep breaths. but trying to regulate my breathing just makes me hyperventilate. my lungs are sore from holding my breath for so long.

after it passes, my whole body hurts. i feel like ive run a marathon, i feel like ive lifted up a car. im exhausted and i ache so much that i can barely move.

lately, i dont leave the house to do errands with my partner. when i think about what makes me so anxious to leave, i think about people seeing me. not even speaking to me, or attacking me, or getting hit by a car or a mass shooting, i dont think about all of the things that would almost be reasonable to be afraid of. i just think about being seen.

i am terrified to my bones of being looked at right now. i feel like being acknowledged is the worst thing that can happen to me. when i think about my loved ones seeing me, my siblings or my parents or grandparents or friends, i worry theyll see that somethings wrong just as easily as my partner does.

my thoughts are so constant, so quick that they feel like tv static inside my head. thoughts so numerous and constant that it almost feels like im not thinking at all.

im trying not to. but im distancing myself from people i care about. when they try to take care of me, i want to fight them. i want to yell at them to leave me alone. i get so mad that it scares me.

im so worried about what will happen when people care about me, but i also feel betrayed when they dont. almost like, im suffering so prettily, dont you see it? i put all this effort to be perfectly tragic and you dont even notice. you arent even grateful for how i suffer. as if im doing it for them.

im terrified of what this means for me. if my symptoms are real, or if theyre just desperate bids for attention. a 15 year old pretending to be depressed for attention is sad, but im 31. now its just pathetic.

i told my partner eariler, "i dont like when you humor my delusions." they told me, "you think so many fundamental truths about yourself are delusions."

when i think about the possibility that my problems are real, i feel cold terror in my gut. like being afraid of getting caught doing something bad. when i think about maybe ive lied about every bad thing thats ever happened to me, i feel something like relief. maybe ive lied so much, that i dont even know what the truth is anymore. or how to tell it. maybe ive lied so much ive completely convinced even myself that those lies are true.

when i tell my partner these thoughts, they tell me "you include details that someone lying about these things wouldnt think to include. you leave out details that someone who was lying would add to aid the deception." they insist that they can tell im not lying about any of this. they tell me that there are things about me that retroactively made sense after i disclosed some of my history.

a part of my brain hisses out that theyre blinded by love for me. that the possibility that they couldve fallen in love with someone who was so deceitful is so harrowing for them, that they ignore the clear truth: that i am someone who lies for attention and pity.

that part is so loud sometimes. a part of my brain is so loud and verbally abusive that i cannot cope with it. i dont know if its my conscience or a coping mechanism.

im so tired. i just want to know what is real

[marvellousvictory]

From the drafts...

And I kept asking myself why does missing someone who was only part of your life for a relatively short period of time hurt so much? But maybe the amount of time you've known someone simply doesn't matter. Maybe being able to feel deeply when you find a connection with another person is what makes us human and it doesn't have to make sense.

I knew the risk of getting hurt was there from the very beginning and yet I went ahead anyway, because you have to. Relationships can't exist without the the risk of losing them and the risk of getting hurt. The risks co-exist alongside the hope that it will all work out in the end.

I suppose there's good reason why so many poems and novels have been written about love and relationships and why so many people have tried to understand it all. But I don't think reason and logic can always be applied when emotions are involved - they're too precise, too exacting, too limiting when it comes to the ever evolving wave of emotions we feel. They can't be mapped onto each other. I thought I'd prepared myself for him leaving. In the end my feelings rose up and sloshed over any rational thought that tried to find its way through.

There were moments where I was suffocated by the sadness. Yet the saddest part was that I knew that this was the end of how things were, the end of 'us'. The finality of it all kept hitting me like a tonne of bricks. Yet the minutes marched on and I'm dragged along by time passing and pushing me forwards without him.

My anxious brain ran through all the possibilities that I should prepare myself for but it's exhausting and I'm obviously not a fortune teller so it was a pointless use of my time and energy. No amount of thinking will prepare me for those eventualities or help me work out which will come true and which will never happen. 

But regardless of it all I'll be forever grateful that by chance we did meet. He was there during my limbo, we were in limbo together and there's nobody else I'd have rather shared that time with.

[skinnymeanfaggot]

oh shit i just saw you reblogged the post with the numbers ill send some of those too. 22 and 23 for javier, 9 and 12 for anim, and 29 and 37 for zora?

22. i think javier likes a lot of things about a lot of people, hes very like Humans are good and he likes how little things can make people happy, he likes people who are happy and optimistic in spite of life. he can totally understand why people Would be jaded but he just does like a lot when people are able to see the good in things. he likes animals, he likes people who like animals. he likes people who are funny but not super mean about it

23. as a therapist and also as, a decent person javier can understand having a lack of empathy but what really gets him is just the callous disrespect and harm to other humans. like in his mind theres no (very few) reasons to hurt others. just like! be nice to people. try to be good to others. make the world a better place.other than morality i think like, its hard for him to actively dislike a person, or like. he tries to repress his dislike for stuff because he believes its not important and tries to see the benefit of the doubt and hes probably just overreacting and blah blah.

but just like people who are super full of themselves and look down upon other people annoy him (anim). people who are purposefully spiteful and rude annoy him (anim). if youre an abuser he will kill you, unless you abused him, in which he will be sad but he cant really hate people who hurt him because he has issues. if you hurt someone else he will be furious but if youre bad to him he will be like hey :( and dislike the treatment but chances are he will make excuses and find a way to like you anyways.

9. yes! growing up anim lived in a like, mid, slightly mid lower? class household? they were fine but there were 6 of them. they would get hand-me-downs not because their family couldnt afford new stuff but just, you have two older brothers. it makes sense.

as an adult they went from, having Literally nothing for a brief time, then poor, and now like, very comfortable. just flat out rich. they get paid WELL by zora and they will flaunt the fuck out of it. a lot of why they work for her is the manipulation/feeling indebted/feeling like theres nothing else they can do, but like. they totally stick around for the pay. they like it. very very easy to forget your morals when you get a LOT of money for the murderings

12. bold to assume theyre ever calm. jk definitely it would be times with javier or kylin, because javier makes them feel genuinely safe and with kylin they love her and have fun with her so its hard to be anxious. unless shes like doing wild teenage shit

29. i never really ever to this day defined what zoras current "job" is besides something something probably a politician something something mob boss/underworld criminal. and she inherited that from her mom and a part of it was "my moms cool i wanna be like her" but like? as a kid? if she never got into that? like if her mom was different? can honestly see her as an artsy type. like creator of or connoisseur of fine arts. maybe a writer or poet. i just picture her as the same type of lesbian woman in pitch black but instead of being evil shes attending art shows or something

37. this is tough... i think like, she would recognize that maybe shes not "honorable" due to the horrors. like she fully believes shes in the right and has done nothing wrong ever. but in any case i think she prioritizes status. again she doesnt Entirely recognize that shes the villain but if she did she would be ok with it.

[himbos-hotline]

🤥 LYING - are they good liars? do they have tells to show they're lying?

🍓 STRAWBERRY - do they eat their fruit & veg? what is their favourite fruit or vegetable?

🙉 HEAR-NO-EVIL - what is the worse thing your oc could hear from someone?

🎭 MASKS - do they act differently around certain people? what's different between the way they act around friends, family, strangers, etc.?

🤥 LYING - are they good liars? do they have tells to show they're lying?

Jay is a very good liar. But not in the decietful way. Her and the bucks cause chaos backstage and Jay smiles ever so sweetly and "you really think nicky could do something like THAT!?" and nick pulls his best pupyy dog eyes and mox nods because he was soooo not the look out. Jay also is quick to lie about how she feels because the JAS expected her to always be there to do his bidding including hurting the people Jay doesnt want too. He just wants to be strong for people and if that comes at the sarifice of his lungs and sleep shedule thats FINE!

Jay has a habit of when theyre lying about something important to cower away from their partners; not letting kenny rub their shoulders or letting hanger look at their eyes for too long. small little tells to show that theres something wrong or something around their head that makes them feel kinda suffering.

🍓 STRAWBERRY - do they eat their fruit & veg? what is their favourite fruit or vegetable?

Jay loves fruit and veggies. Regal would make them eat their fruits and stuff to make them grow strong and now fruit and vegtables are very important in her and Hangers relationship; he cuts up fruit for jay to eat, Jay leaves behind his strawberries so hanger can snack on them during busy times or after being anxious and just needs something sweet. Jays favourite vegtable is pumpkin and their favourite fruit is cantalope.

🙉 HEAR-NO-EVIL - what is the worse thing your oc could hear from someone?

it would be something along the lines off they dont love her anymore. Jay isnt good enough to be part of their group or friend time or good enough to wrestle. that shes failed. Jay hates being told that shes never good enough or not worth things. because they tried so hard and keep trying and why? what did she do wrong? how can she help? Aslo the idea of her familys breaking up makes them feel sad. regal and excalibur arent talking over the dining table and Jay feels nausous about it.

🎭 MASKS - do they act differently around certain people? what's different between the way they act around friends, family, strangers, etc.?

Jay acts tough and strong and brave. she tries his best to be loud and what people need. So he does changes when hes hanging out with his partners. hes soft and calm and gentle. hes a small round little ball of fluff and wants to stare at them like his partners are the only thing in the world. Shes different in itnerveiws because they make zem feel uncomfortable so hes snappy and drained but still polite. Jay is more chaotic with the BCC and the bucks because they all share a braincell and its so much fun to do dumb stuff because nick dared them too.

Regal raised a polite young girl with a heart of gold and will punch people. Jay is the definition of chaotic good and if you picked them up to put zem into your pocket she will bite your fingies.