#I am simply returning the same energy i just got from this

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part:𝟷𝟸

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 4624

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

It was quite the struggle to train with Ben for a week, especially when he took it extremely seriously and pushed you to the very limit. It was not that he hurt you; it was that in the lab you either lost your will to fight or you just got really weak.

There were moments when you stated to Ben that things might get serious about your power, but he chose to ignore you and aggravated the training, which left you worn out. But you were relieved that he could, in his own irritating way, encourage you that your strength was still there.

Ben answered, “No,” right away when you wanted to stop the exercise.

Right now, the entire home was a mess, and the hole you had made in the wall remained.

“I'm tired here, Ben,” you complained as you fell to the ground, gasping for air. You had been there exercising together since the morning, and it was nearly the sun going down. Except when you needed to eat or pee, he rarely gave you a moment's peace of mind. “I mean it. I'm done.” 

You opened your hands wide on the ground, and he looked at your body while saying, “You're a supe; you can't just feel exhausted that easily.”

You blushed as you noticed him staring at your soaked entire body and replied, “Give me some break.” There's a good chance that you were both thinking the same thing. “How on earth can you find that much energy? Even for a supe, it's too much.”

Ben stared at you and then took off the shirt he had taken off hours earlier, wiping the sweat from his muscular chest. You grimaced, knowing you probably smelled like trash. 

“It's because I am the strongest; I am not just any average Supe.” With the most arrogant way possible, he threw his t-shirt back to the ground and said, “Simply better and more powerful than anyone. But don't worry; we'll return you to the way things were, sweetie. You have my word.”

He gave you a sneaky smirk when he saw you staring at his broad, sweat-damp chest. Ben was waiting for you, literally, from above, all the time you tried to get some rest. His eyes narrowed, and you suspected his head was full of filthy stuff. 

You just muttered, “I hope so,” and avoided giving him a glance as you closed your eyes.

He sighed and went down on the floor next to you, crossing his big arms over his head. 

“Don't think about it that much. You're going to do even better than you are now. Maybe we should just do those trainings more frequently. What do you say?”

“It’s fine. I don’t have another choice anyway,” you replied, cutting it short while keeping your eyes closed. Even if you felt his intense stare on your face, you didn’t react. “What did the doctor tell you, by the way? The one who supervised Compound V's improvement for decades?”

You remembered that there was a lot of discussion following the news that Ben had killed him at his home. You kind of hoped you could have dealt with that cruel piece of shit on your own, though. He was just a monster with a white robe. He had always made an aggressive attempt to cause damage to you and showed no sympathy or compassion for anyone. You got scared and insecure when you opened your eyes, recalling the physical harm he had inflicted. 

“Fucking piece of shit!” Ben angrily exclaimed, his fists clenched over his head. “I should have killed him properly.” 

“What did he say, so you blew up?” 

“Isn't it obvious? That pussy told me how little supes are in the big picture of science, the future of the supremes, humanity, and some other bullshit. It's certain that Vough paid that cocksucker generously during all those years. He lived in luxury, torturing us, and he didn’t even regret it.”

“Did he tell you what kind of research he did on my body?” You asked as you moved your body to face him. 

Ben fell silent for a minute, enraged by what he remembered the doctor had said about you. Nevertheless, his eyes softened as he saw your expression and saw that you were excited to hear what he was about to say and that you were feeling at ease and comfortable next to him. That was all he needed. Ben recognized that if he made a determined attempt to be by your side and touch you in the way he desired, you would push him even further away and that you weren't

ready for physical contact at this time. He therefore forced himself to keep his distance from you and let you do whatever you wanted.

He just turned to face you and stated, “I didn't give him enough time to talk,” straightening his posture and sitting straight up on the floor. “He's just an animal, and he sees supes as rats for research in order to make profit. That's all.”

“When we agreed to live this life as supers, Ben, we already knew that.” You said bitterly, “People in charge always wanted to play with us like we were toys. They used us as they pleased and needed us for their own good. I wanted to leave the company for a number of reasons, one of which was that I was unaware of how serious that whole picture was. What I need to learn is what they succeeded in doing during the decades we were unconscious and at their mercy.”

Ben sighed and got up to get some weed from the nearest table, just after helping you off the floor.

“I was told by that son of a bitch that he examined you to make the future supers flawless. Though I'm not really sure what he meant, it seems to me that Queen Maeve—the woman from Seven—is their new you.”

“Do you think they might have found a way to weaken me? Don't say 'no' right away,” you said in a hurry when he opened his lips to object. “It just doesn't feel right about what's going on and everything.”

Your concerns, which were constantly lurking beneath the surface, took over when you realized that Ben had remained silent. Something was off with you, you two sensed that. Although after your first training day you felt a little stronger, your weakness remained under your skin.

You pulled open a window to let some fresh air in and muttered, “If you hadn't just killed the doctor, we could have learned about it.”

Ben offered you one of the glasses and sighed as if he regretted what he had done, filling the other one with wine. “I didn't intentionally kill him. It simply happened beyond my control. But I would still murder him anyway.”

You raised an eyebrow and sat down, realizing that your tiredness was taking over. “You need to find a way to control it since your nerves are always on edge,” you said. “And also, I need to find someone who can understand all of this.”

Ben sat beside you, stretching his muscles and leaning back into the coach while he listened to you attentively. As you spoke, you noticed that your gaze lingered a little too long on his sweating body, almost making you flush. 

He studied your expression to see how you would react to his suggestion. He said, “I guess the best option is to kidnap or torture a doctor who is in charge or fuckever who's doing supe studies for Vought right now. We can use Mindstorm to look at your memories and thoughts to see whether they have hurt you in any way.”

His suggestion caused your eyes to widen with excitement, and you exclaimed, “That's actually a smart idea. But how are we supposed to find him?”

“Remember the new technology, sweetheart. Anything is possible with these phones, Bluetooth, and GPS technology. Remember how I found you very easily?”

You gave a nod to him, knowing that what he stated was right and that you would be able to reach Mindstorm with ease thanks to modern technology.

After you had your shower, you saw Ben watching the TV with a dead serious face, and you sat beside him.

As you used the towel in your hand to dry your damp hair, you inquired, “Is there any news about us? Almost a week has passed.”

“Not much,” he replied as he continued to listen to Homelander talk about the two of you.

‘They pose no threat to the United States,’ Homelander confidently stated, grinning, as he extended his arms and turned to face the screen. 'As Seven, we've been trying to find them for a week, but it looks like they are hiding pretty well,' he continued. I, Homelander, the Seven's leader, swear to you that they shall answer for their actions. It has been proven that Soldier Boy rescued Y/N, and it's very likely that the two of them murdered the hapless doctors as well as every lab employee in cold blood and without hesitation.'

You and Ben exchanged a look as Homelander continued his speech. ‘Their families and children are in agony even though our government gives them the best care they can. These two criminals are responsible for the deaths of the orphans whose parents they killed. It breaks our hearts to see them weeping and grieving the loss of their families. There are even toddlers among them. Soldier Boy and Y/N will be held liable and made to pay for the harm they caused to the United States and its citizens. They have little time to conceal; they cannot get away.’

As the audience gave him a loud applause and he flew opening his arms out like.

Ben angrily said, “Fuck that. Son of a bitch,” and threw the remote control onto the table in front of him. “They were just another piece of shits who enjoyed torturing supes, nothing else.”

“But I didn't kill anyone,” you mumbled. “We are past the point of self-justification. Homelander is basically controlling the crowds. They would never pay to listen to us, Ben.”

Ben stared at the TV and said, “I'll teach them how to listen,” in a menacing manner. “You see? It's no longer about Butcher and his useless group. It has to do with our future.”

You could have argued with him about the future, but all you wanted was to avoid getting into another fight with Ben. 

“I think such a guy wouldn't be innocent at all. We might be able to defeat the company if we can figure out how to properly express ourselves, explain to them how Vought tricked us, and show the real Homelander to the rest of the world. There isn't another way.”

 “I know, I know,” he muttered.

As you could tell Ben was becoming enraged and feeling overwhelmed, you touched his bare chest, which had a little glow to it. “Hey, are you okay?”

He responded with, “I am,” placing his hand on yours and giving you a gentle squeeze. 

“Can you please stop getting angry for a second? I can sense the heat building in your chest.” You muttered, “You're stressing me out here,” but you didn't remove your hand from his upper body. You could feel him cooling down beneath your touch once again. It was fine as long as it worked; you simply didn't know why. 

“Well,” he said, arching an eyebrow, licking his lips, allowing you to touch him, and gently tracing his fingers over yours. His powerful, slow beats were calming in a way. “It's not too bad. Is it?” 

You withdrew your hand from his sweating chest while rolling your eyes at him and making sure he was okay. 

Ben had just showered when Butcher and Hughie showed up at the house. 

Butcher remarked in a sly manner, “Glad, I delayed for an hour coming here to pick up you two,” as you and Ben got into the back of the car. “We could have interrupted something funny, judging by the all-wet hairs and all.”

“We were just finished training there!” you exclaimed, your face heated. 

“It must be very good training, indeed. The entire fucking house was damaged like hell. You two spent a whole week all showering and training while we were dealing with the shit Soldier Boy caused.”

“Sorry for that, but it's not what you think, really.”

“I thought Soldier Boy and Crimson were having a relationship. Yet life goes on, don't they? There are always new, fine chickens and dolls all around.” Butcher smirked at Ben.

You were ready to add something about Ben and you having nothing to do, but Ben became enraged right away when Butcher brought up the Crimson Countess. 

“Don't you fucking know how to stay silent and shut your useless mouth?” Butcher was obviously enjoying himself when he suddenly made Ben mad. 

“What made you so furious now? Have I said anything untrue?” 

Hughie leaned back in his seat and said, “Butcher, stop that,” sounding distressed as Ben continued to swear at them both and told Hughie to make Buther to suck him soon, so his mouth would be filled enough not to talk stupid.

“Why even do you become irate out of nowhere? After all, you murdered the poor woman.”

You looked up at Ben, asking with disbelief, “What? Why did you even kill Countess?”

The fact that Ben never brought it up startled you even more than Butcher's statement, as though it were nothing important. You were stunned and shocked beyond belief. At that point, you were at a loss for what to think. You were not sympathetic to her, though. After all, Vought used her as a cunning evil to harm both you and Ben. She was the one who paid you a visit in order to deceive you that day. 

He tried to convince you immediately, giving you a gentle look as if he wanted you to understand what he had done. “She deserved whatever I've done,” he defended himself. 

You acknowledged, “I know she did. But why?”

He looked at Butcher and then turned to face you, almost whispering, “Let's discuss this at a later time. All right?”

You found Annie nowhere to be found when you got to Butcher's home, where only Kimiko and Frenchie were inside. Kimiko watched Frenchie play with his phone, seeming bored.

“Why did it take so long for you to come here?” Frenchie inquired in an irritated manner to Butcher. “You give me too much to deal with, though you know I have things to do. Kimiko is also exhausted.”

Butcher sarcastically remarked, “Hello to you too, baby,” as he removed his coat. “I have not even once heard a complaint from her; she is an incredible Supe. She can't possibly be exhausted, right, doll?”

Ben moved you over to the edge of the coach and sat by you, resting his legs on the table, just as you were about to strike up a conversation with Kimiko. You were fine with him being close, though, so you said nothing at all. In fact, if you were honest with yourself enough, you would admit that his behavior around you somewhat comforted you. 

“Kimiko and I have spent days looking for Black Noir and Queen Maeve, but we haven't made any progress so far. It's strange that they were absent from everything for so long. You see, something isn't quite right. According to Starlight, they have vanished.”

“The fuck you mean they are missing?” Butcher asked in disbelief.

“Why would Noir would go missing? It's not his thing to disappear,” you said. You thought you were thinking to yourself, but you had said it loud.

“He must have ran away when he saw us back together,” Ben said in am amused tone. “He fucking knows I'm going to kill him too. He’s a fucking dead man.”

You told Ben, “There must be a reason,” ignoring the way he talked about taking Earving's life. Right now, you don't need to see Ben being enraged over Noir and losing his temper again. 

“How the fuck doesn't Starlight know where Queen Maeve is?” Butcher questioned Hughie. 

Hughie took his head in his hands and responded, “She thinks Homelander did something to her. Maybe he killed Maeve.”

“How about Ninja Cunt, though? He is known as Homelander's right wing. Suppose he murdered Maeve. What about Noir?”

Frenchie remarked, “That's what I'm trying to understand,” and Kimiko communicated with him using sign language swiftly. 

“All right, we'll watch out for this and see if he shows up again.” Butcher ended it quickly and continued. “Tomorrow, Soldier Boy and I are heading to New York.”

You eyed Butcher with suspicion, asking, “Why and why not me?” 

“You two stayed at a lovely house for a week, for God’s sake. Aren't all of the showers enough? Is it not possible for you to separate for even a single day? Would you really miss this cunt that much?”

As Butcher continued to make assumptions about you and Ben, your face heated. Kimiko and Frenchie turned to face you in harmony, taken aback. 

“You're just making the wrong assumptions.” You distanced yourself from Ben and explained, “It's not like that,” acting as though you had been proven guilty. Ben didn't appear to be supportive when you stared at him, yet it seemed as though he was okay with Butcher's comments. “What I want to know is what you're going to be doing here and why I have to stay here.”

“Yes, doll. To catch up with your old friend TNT Twins, we are going to join Herogasm. It's almost like we have to clear your names first. Maybe they know anything about the specifics of those events from decades ago, and they could say something that we could use against Vought. Though things might get messy soon, don't you worry, I'm going to keep an eye on your soldier so that he won't be pouding into any supe cunt there,” he said with a wicked smile.

Ben said, “Maybe we can also find a thing about Mindstorm there,” giving you a meaningful glance and a small touch on the arm before you could respond. You nodded to him. 

“However, why must I stay here?”

“Kimiko needs to get some work done, and we need more muscle to help Frenchie and Hughie here. Let's don't take too much attention.”

“Okay,” you said, acknowledging the situation and giving up on further arguments. Herogasm was something you've always detested and loathed. Ben, the founder of it, was making it even worse. Yet the one thing about Ben's inconsistent anger—the energy in his chest—that scared you was his unpredictable temper. You weren't sure if he could find a way to control it soon enough. 

You questioned Hughie, “By the way, where is Annie?” As a member of Vought and Seven, you were aware of how difficult it must be to handle the entire company's evil by yourself. 

“I don't think she'll find Maeve anytime soon, but she's doing some research in order to locate her. She seemed to have disappeared in a heartbeat.”

You figured she was kind of involved in this too, based on the way they talked about her. 

Ben abruptly stood up and stated, “I guess all the rooms are full. So, which room are Y/N and I staying in tonight?”

“Not full,” Hughie smiled in response. “I suppose there are now two available rooms since I will be seeing Annie tonight.” 

Kimiko nodded quickly as she gave a smile to you.

Ben's expression darkened as Hughie continued to tell him and Annie that they would not be staying in this house any longer, while Ben quietly cursed. He glanced at you for a moment, but you ignored him and asked Kimiko to show you the room where you would be sleeping. 

After an hour of inspecting the room and all of the furniture within, you heard a light knock on the door and knew it was Ben.

After a minute, you said, “Come in,” startled that Ben was holding back, opening the door this time without your permission. 

He whispered, “As you wish, baby,” and carefully shut the door behind him. 

In the dim light, his hair fell over his forehead, and his white t-shirt made your heart melt just a bit. Under his large arms, his t-shirt was too tight. Perhaps you weren't used to seeing him in his regular clothes, which is why you were still excited when you were around him. 

“What now?” you muttered as you sat on the bed and observed him approach you. 

He joked, “Don't get excited; I'm just here to make some conversation,” and sat down next to you right away. 

You said, almost in a whisper, “Which is about?” while he briefly studied your body.

His darkened eyes lingered on your revealing nightgown, but you remained silent, intensifying the tension in the moment. 

Ben's desire to force your body to the covers, get on top of you, take off your sweatpants, and get you ready for some post-breakup fucking was unbearable. He was well aware that you never touched yourself when you were by yourself in the house, and that really disturbed him because he knew that he was the reason for it. Ben could tell by the way you looked at him and by the beating in your heart that your body still yearned for him, but he also understood that he had to rebuild your trust in every way. He had to take care of his meat by hand up until that point. 

After sighing and searching for the right words, Ben uttered, “About the thing I told you that we can discuss later.” He made an effort not to speak about Crimson bitch right away. She was the reason your nerves were already fragile. He had no reason to blame you for it. 

As he attempted to read how you were feeling, you questioned in a cold voice, “Why did you kill her? Was it unintentional?” 

You were curious as to whether he truly intended to murder her or if this was just another unintentional incident similar to the others. You needed to comprehend it, even though you didn't know why it mattered. 

After a while, he said, “I blew up,” and when you realized he hadn't done it on purpose to exact vengeance for you, your posture straightened. 

Ben said, “I was just trying to get information about you and your location before killing her,” as soon as he saw the look on your face. “I was cautious to do anything until she had spoken about you. But I was unable to control myself when she touched my nerves.”

“Did you kill her just because she was unfaithful?” You questioned him suspiciously, attempting to make sense of his motivations. Ben might tell you the truth or a lie, but you would still listen to him even if you weren't sure he would be completely honest with you. “In the end, it's her who deceived you. Whether Vought commanded her or not is important. She was the one who brought you there so they could capture you and then transport you to Russia.”

After pausing to comprehend what you were asking, Ben responded, “I would kill her anyway because of what she had done to both of us,” as if he had no idea how to answer properly. “Especially to you.” 

You said, your eyes softening with sorrow, “I wonder what you would do to me if I were the one to trick you, Ben,” knowing that, after all these years, loyalty was what mattered most to him. “Even if I had every right to do so.” 

“I would never hurt you,” he abruptly rejected, emphasizing each word in a hard voice. “I knew I would deserve it anyway.”

“I'm not so sure of that, Ben,” you said. “You're even more dangerous considering I'm getting weaker and you're ready to blow up anytime.” 

His smile expanding, he added, “Hey, don't say such things,” took one of your hands, placed it on his warm chest, and whispered, “You have every power over me.”

Under his focused gaze, your face flushed, and after a moment, you reluctantly withdrew your hand. 

“So, you're going to Herogasm tomorrow?” you said, attempting to change the topic. “Given how difficult it was to persuade you not to join decades earlier, you must have missed it quite a lot.” 

“Are you feeling jeaolus?” he asked with a mischievous smile, and you grimaced. 

“Why should I be? I'm just saying you might have missed the chance to join the party that you organized after all this time.”

“I'm not going there to fuck, baby; I'm not interested anymore,” he murmured, retaining an arrogant chuckle. “I'm going to call you when I get there.”

“I'm not sure.” You said to quit talking about Herogasm anymore. “I might be busy to pick up when you call.” Herogasm was the world's dumbest thing, especially since Ben founded it. 

“Why may be you even busy, anyway?” This time Ben uttered serious words: “I'll call you nonstop, so keep your phone with you every moment.”

You responded with the same heedlessness, “I might.” 

Ben smiled playfully and narrowed his eyes. “Since you too need to take care of yourself, it will actually be good for us to be apart for just a small amount of time.”

You naively asked, “About what?” as though he would make a crucial point. 

“You might as well relax on this bed while I'm away because I’m pretty aware of you're not touching yourself, knowing I'd hear you in a second, huh?”

You became the deepest shade of scarlet in your cheeks and murmured, “I can't believe you.”

“I'm not making fun,” he declared with seriousness. “It is also a bodily necessity. You don't have to reject playing with yourself a bit. Being the reason is something that irritates me a lot.”

“I don't feel ashamed of taking care of myself because of you or anything else,” you immediately argued, ignoring the heat on your cheeks. “I have no problem touching myself while you're here. It's not all that important.” 

Ben arched an eyebrow at your quick, brave, “If you say so,” followed by a sigh. 

“I'm serious here, Ben,” you continued, growing agitated by his haughty demeanor and enormous ego. “I'll prove it.”

He studied your figure and growled in a low voice, “I won't promise that I won't focus on you or listen to the way you sound.”

“Then don't.”

Next Chapter

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A/N: Comments and reblogs are appreciated very much.  They keep me going. ♡˚.

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[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter Nineteen: The Bitter Taste Of Deceit

Gates Of Hell

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: amnesia, death, horror elements

[A/N: Finally!!! I have been so busy with my degree shows that I haven't had time to sit and use my little fic as an escape but thank you to everyone still showing love to this series x This one is... let's just say I was depressed and took it out on the characters, okay bye]

The Bitter Taste Of Deceit

The metal table in the middle of a bare room was far from a comfortable environment.

Your finger taps relentlessly against the cool surface, hoping to distract yourself with the rhythmic movement.

It had only been a few days since you woke up, but rest didn’t soften the building panic. You almost felt sick. It was like your mind was racing, steering itself off the tracks to tumble across the grassy hills of your restlessness until you were nothing but a pile of unfixable damages.

You still can’t remember how you ended up here.

You can’t even remember what happened before here.

You only knew your name, that you were a person who was living a blurred misshapen life. And you knew what what you had been told. Not that words from a stranger’s lips would be trusted on your ear.

“Do you remember anything?”

You simply shake your head, the heart rate monitor rising. The hands attached to your wrists were fidgeting, twisting the sheet covering your body. You may not remember anything, but even you knew this wasn’t normal.

“No need to feel alarmed. That is perfectly normal.” His voice was weirdly soothing, his unwavering eyes making you blink horridly. How did he so easily see through you? “Your memory will slowly come back to you, I promise.”

“Why am I here?” You find the courage to ask after a length of silence, biting the inside of your cheek.

“We found you.” Brenner states, turning around to a mirror. A fake mirror, you realise. And he was smiling at whoever stood behind it. “And at the right time, too. If we hadn’t shown up when we did… well, to put it simply, you may not have survived.”

You took in a quick breath, so light it didn’t make a sound past your lips.

“Survived?”

There was that boy again, returning to your mind in a flash of blurry images. Survived. Survived? The word held such strong resonance. It disappeared as quickly as it came, so sudden you almost felt lonely in its absence. Whoever this boy was, he was important. You were forgetting something- someone- important.

“You were laying in the middle of the woods, not far from here. Do you remember how you got there?”

You try to muster up a memory, closing your eyes. All you saw was a faint red shadow of your flesh against the beaming lights.

“No.”

“That’s okay.” You open your eyes to Brenner’s smile, his hand resting gently on the bed beside your arm, careful not to force the proximity between you and a stranger, yet close enough for you to feel comforted. “We’ll figure everything out, in time. For now, you should rest, take a few days to gather up your energy. We’re here to provide you with whatever you need.”

We? You wonder, but too many questions lay dormant on your tongue. So, rather, you settle for one that required the least amount of effort to sound.

“Why?”

Brenner stands from the bedside chair, looking down at you with that same kind expression. You can’t tell if it’s forced, or if his generosity was genuine.

“There is a horrible war happening outside. We all need to stick together, do we not?”

You were told you had collapsed in the woods, in the middle of nowhere, and rescued by Brenner. Or, rather, a mysterious team. We, he had said. You don’t recall seeing anyone else here for the past few days. Brenner had saved you. And you were grateful, of course. But you had this consistent twist in your gut any time he turned his back on you, a brief moment of panic before it subdued.

You were allowed to wander freely in this place, not that wandering would take you anywhere different. All the walls and floors were grey, bright strips of bulbs almost making the light shade blinding. You always felt a sense of familiarity as you walked down the halls, peering through glass windows into bare rooms. It was as if you had done this before.

Brenner told you it was a bunker, hidden from the surface currently crawling with monsters. That much you do remember. The terrifying screeches, the traumatic swipe of sharp claws, even the dull throbbing pain in your ankle reminding you of a misfortune you could never truly forget.

Yet, still, everything was a blurred mess.

In time, Brenner kept saying. You wanted to believe him, but whatever happened to you was enough to damage your memories. What if he was something to do with whatever happened to you?

You shouldn’t trust him. He’s a stranger, regardless of what he has done to help. Not once has he ever revealed how he ended up here, or had access to such a huge underground fortress. Hopper would be so disappointed to know you trusted so freely.

…

Hopper.

“I just want you to know that… I love you, dad.”

“I love you so much, kiddo. We’re getting you out of there. You hear me? Even if I have to tear a gate open myself, I am getting you out of there-”

Your chair scrapes against the floor as you leap away from the table, rushing to the door.

The room you wanted was down the left hallway and the third door to the right, a room filled with machines and radio systems. Brenner had shown you it when you were able to walk confidently, telling you it was his responsibility to keep in touch with the outside world. And that was what he was doing as you burst in, his hands quick to slip the headphones down to his neck.

“I remembered something.” You say, breathing heavy.

Brenner only nods, turning back to switch the radio off with a key at the control panel and pocket it in his white coat, gesturing for you to leave.

He never let you stay in that room for too long. You weren’t yet sure why.

“What do you remember?” He asks as he settles into an old armchair, opposite from the couch you sat on.

Only one room in the entire bunker was furnished with items other than metal frames, a cosier living quarter you spent most evenings in. He had a bookcase down here, some board games. You think he may have prepared for an apocalypse. Or maybe it’s been longer since it begun than you thought.

“Hopper.” You say, looking to your hands. “I mean, my-my dad. I remember my dad.”

You glance up to catch something flash across his eyes, completely gone in an instant as if it never happened. Despite his nonchalant reaction, you sense he’s holding something back.

“Do you… know him?” You risk the question, though you already know what the answer will be.

“I can’t say that I do.” He says curiously, leaning forward. “What about him did you remember?”

“Just a conversation.” You shake your eyes, scrunching your face. “He sounded muffled. Or… static. Like a radio.”

“Hm.”

“And- and he said something about getting me out. Something about a gate…”

“Okay.” He says after a while, “This is good. This is progress. You’re slowly getting your memory back. May I ask, what brought on this memory?”

You take a breath. I was figuring out whether I should trust you. The truth didn’t feel like it would be received well. He obviously wants you to trust him, but you also need him to trust you, especially seeing as you barely remember who you are.

“I… I was just thinking.” You decide, nodding. You hold eye contact. Liars never look you in the eye, Hopper used to say.

“Thinking.” He repeats, mostly to himself. Brenner’s eyes flash to yours with a smile. “Keep thinking. Think as much as you can. Perhaps we can try some exercises, see if anything triggers a memory. If you were happy to do so, of course.”

“Yeah.” You nod eagerly, shifting in your seat. Anything to return you back to your life.

“Good. That’s settled.” Brenner pats his legs and stands up, already walking to the door without so much as a second glance. “I need to finish up a few things but I shall be back soon.”

“Can you-” You stop almost as instantly as you start, biting your lip.

“Ask away, Y/n.” He cocks his head, hand still hovering above the doorknob, curious.

“Can you send out a message?” You ask, straightening your posture. “With the radio, I mean. If- if I was right and Hopper was speaking to me through a radio, maybe we can reach him.”

There’s a moment of silence, long enough to have you question if you overstepped. But then he smiles again, nodding with eyes of kindness that looked a little too forced.

“I will see what I can do.”

Once he shuts the door behind him, you sink further into the couch, wrapping your arms around your body.

“I am getting you out of there.”

Where was there? Why did it sound dangerous, almost forbidden?

You try and reclaim the memory, searching and focusing and thinking until it began to hurt. You press your fingertips against your forehead, breathing to relax. The act of the touch above your eyebrows was calming, like it was used to the comforting nature of it.

You hoped Hopper was okay. And you hoped the others you have surely forgotten were safe, like you.

“Will?”

Steve taps on the door at the end of the corridor, feeling like the walls were watching him as he stood there, holding his breath to hear the younger boy’s small voice.

“Come in.” He sniffles, and Steve takes a deep breath. It was time for him to stop hiding.

“Hey.” He smiles as he walks in.

Will wasn’t sat on the bed like he had expected. Instead, he was on the ground, sheets upon sheets of paper scattered around him, a pencil in his hand.

“What’re you drawing?” Steve questions, walking over to him. As he moves closer, he sees the papers are blank.

The boy barely blinks. He just looks down at the floor, gripping the pencil tight, never drawing. Steve feels a shiver run down his spine, but he chooses to ignore it, just this once.

“The guys are missing you.” He says, lowering himself to sit cross legged beside him. Will only continues to stare at the paper. “They’re, uh, playing DnE.”

“DnD” He responds quietly and Steve smiles. He took the bait.

“Yeah, DnD.” He gently nudges him. “See? I need you, buddy, I can’t keep up with them.”

A corner of Will’s lips lifts to what could be a hint of a smile before it fades again, a dark look in his eye as he stares at a creative’s nothingness.

“I just want to draw.”

Steve frowns, but he doesn’t say anything. He only nods, placing a hand on his shoulder, knowing a losing battle when he sees one. “If you need anything, just ask. Okay?”

“Thanks, Steve.” Will finally looks at him, smiling.

The sword that had been pressed against his chest finally plunges with one small smile, making Steve feel like he was bleeding out. He didn’t deserve this kindness. It was his fault Will was feeling this way.

“Yeah.”

With that, he stands and leaves, pressing his back against the door once he gently closes it. It’s fine. It’s all fine.

Except, it isn’t.

Steve retreats to the staircase faster than he should have, gripping onto the banister with the remaining force of his strength. It should be different. It wasn’t meant to be like this.

When he was on the final step, he clocked the sudden merge of the Party sat at the only available window in the house, a viewpoint usually used to ensure the area was safe. They could only be sat there for one reason; the others had finally returned.

Both adults were situated upstairs, alongside the youngest Byers, while the Party and Steve were crowded around the corner window. Which meant four people were still left unaccounted for.

Steve peers through the glass at the giant metal gate surrounding his house. When he had arrived back on the surface, he found that Hopper and Billy had been building his home into some kind of fortress, a large barb-wired gate blocking the monsters from approaching. Not that many had appeared in this area of Hawkins thanks to the military’s bare minimum efforts to drive them away.

Now, he watches as figures approach it in the dark, not a single flashlight among them. They had to adjust to the night now, just in case light beckoned over their worst nightmares. Steve remembers you were the first to suggest this to him within the first few days of the apocalypse. He should never have taken your warnings for granted.

Billy was the first to appear, leading the way with a gun held dangerously in his grip as he scopes out the area, just in case. He’s the one to open the gate, signal that they were in the clear.

Next to run out of the shadows was Robin, her hair scruffy from a late night chop after one too many complaints her hair was always getting in the way. She was different to how you and Steve left her. Colder, somehow. Steve has been avoiding her since his return, afraid of what she must think of him to leave her best friend behind.

Then comes Nancy, lowering her shotgun to slip through the small gap in the gate, never opened wide enough in case something tries to follow. Her hair was tied back, a sunken expression. Steve figured their mission to find more food was unsuccessful. But that wasn’t the reason she was so forlorn.

The only person left was Jonathan. The boy was usually the last in, running up behind and helping Billy lock the gate, looping a comforting arm around Nancy as he and Robin continued whatever conversation they had been using as a stress relief for the way back.

Nancy locks the gate, signalling for Billy to head inside. She stands there for a moment after, staring out into the dark.

Jonathan wasn’t returning this time.

He hadn’t been for over a week.

June 1st (Day 60 of the apocalypse)

The task was simple: get to Weathertop and use the ‘Cerebro’ Dustin built to break through the static of the Upside Down. But was it ever really that simple?

“Steve, maybe we should stop.” Nancy suggests, taking in a deep breath.

It was one thing to climb to the highest point in Hawkins, it was another to do it after fighting for your life against a pack of demodogs. Steve should have paid more attention, but how much worse could this get?

“We’re almost there.” He dismisses, charging forward. He hears Robin’s murmur of protest, but he remains unbothered. They needed to send out a signal. He had to before one of those wretched things lurking in the dark destroyed his only hope to find you.

His calves burned as he climbed the unusual incline of Weathertop, driven by his poorly handled guilt. The sooner he got you home, the sooner he would feel relieved of his deceit to the others.

The sooner he could hold you and never let you go again.

Dustin’s radio monster, at least that what Steve viewed it as in the best possible sense, was swaying slightly precariously in the sudden sweep of wind, enough to have him rush to it despite his aching muscles. It felt like the sky was closing in on him, a divine entity set on there never being a happy ending. Good thing he didn’t believe in that sort of thing.

Steve rummages through his bag, pulling out the heavy weight of a brand new radio. You still had his, wherever you were. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t know if that was true until he could hear your voice blare through the microphone.

Holding the radio in his hand, he starts messing around with the display Dustin had set up, following the rules meticulously crafted into his mind with ease that even surprised himself. All that was left was the frequency.

He holds out his hand, looking beside him at where Nancy stood patiently, barely panting from the rushed walk.

“What?” She frowns slightly, or Steve thinks she does. The night time was creeping too quickly on them.

“The paper.” He states, squinting at her when she continues to look at him in confusion, “With the number thingies?”

“Oh, uh..” She starts patting down her pockets, muttering under her breath about its possible whereabouts.

Steve couldn’t believe it. Nancy knew how important this was, not only to him but to everyone eager to get you home safely. She was never unprepared, and yet the time Steve needed her most, she’s scattered.

He blinks. Nancy was never like that.

As she turns to root through her satchel, Steve’s eyes narrow. He looks further down the hill to where three shadows stood beside eachother; Jonathan, Robin…

And Nancy.

Steve immediately swings his bat, knocking the imposter onto the ground with one sharp blow to the chin, catching it by surprise. When it shifts back to its original form, a sight that made his skin crawl, he realises he should have listened to the real Nancy.

“Shapeshifters!” He yells to his friends as more start to trail out of the shadows. He’s never seen so many in one place. They didn’t seem like they would travel in packs, unusual for a creature so independent. Which only meant one thing.

It was an ambush.

Everything else happened too quickly. He remembers dropping the radio and rushing down the hill, driving his bat into the heads of ashy figures and dodging sharp black claws swiping menacingly at his face. They managed to take out one each, but it still left so many more.

“Steve!” Robin cries out, but he doesn’t get the chance to even glance at her.

The moment his feet left the ground was when he realised he was being targeted. A shapeshifter had wrapped its claws around his neck and slammed him into the grassy hill, knocking the oxygen from his lungs. And then it wouldn’t let him breathe.

He was suffocating. It was scarily similar to the feeling he had in an enclosed space, the same cold hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing until he could only close his eyes and plead it would disappear. And it would, eventually. But nothing like how the crushing feeling had been obliterated by just one touch of your hand.

Steve imagined it in that moment where his vision started to blur, blackening at the edges. He had memorised your touch for so long it almost felt like you were there, helping him breathe.

He wouldn’t feel it again unless he survived.

With his summoned siege of strength, he draws up his knees and plants his shoes against its chest, driving it away with a swift kick. The deadly grip loosened from his throat and he began to suck in painful breaths, crawling away.

Just as he raises himself on his knees, his eyes look up to meet the haunting gaze of what he thought he could escape. It was dressed eerily like him, wore a face identical to his, and it held a knife. The very same he bore on his hip.

He watched himself grin, something so unnatural to the boy he constantly viewed in the mirror. He swore his heartbeat stopped as soon as it dug its heel into the ground and charged at him.

“Steve!” Nancy shouts, but what else could he do? He wasn’t fast enough to stop this.

His eyes fly shut once the dagger is closer than comfort, awaiting the painful stretch of metal into his flesh. Unfortunately for someone else, he didn’t have to.

A pained gasp hits the air like a sobering thought, stilling his aching body. It didn’t belong to him. It belonged to Jonathan.

Nancy starts to scream as blood pours from his mouth, his legs losing their power and stumbling him back into a hoard of shapeshifters. Steve watches as they grab at him, pulling at his clothes. They throw a hand over his mouth and drag him away, looking satisfied in their assault.

Steve can barely hear Nancy’s guttural cries as she wrestles against Robin’s tight grip, the other girl trying to pull her back so she doesn’t go running to her demise. He simply gets himself off the ground, runs to them, and guides them in the other direction, the only sound his unusually steady heartbeat flooding his eardrums. Maybe it was the shock, piercing the sound so he couldn’t hear his ex-girlfriend’s screams.

Maybe he wasn’t ready to admit he was the reason they lost Jonathan Byers.

Chapter Twenty, coming soon...

[A/N: I'm away for a week now to go present my work at a really fancy event so we're gonna have to wait just as long for the next part ugh. Thank you all so much for your constant support, ily]

@toomanyfandomsimfanvergent . @sheisjoeschateau . @kthomps914 . @curled-hair-red-lips . @nix-rose .

@palmtreesx3 . @kryztalglear . @sattlersquarry . @hey-barnes-stole-a-jeep . @sadslasher13 .

@iliveonteaandbooks . @innercreationflower . @newyorkangelbaby . @totally-bogus-timelady . @pansexualhoor .

@kitdjarin1 . @chiliwhore .

[galexibrain]

Something, something ... parallels. When I was 10yo and watching DBZ for the first time, when it was first aired in Germany, this was my favourite scene in the entirety of DBZ, and it still is to this day:

When the people of Earth all give their energy for the final genkidama that's supposed to finish off Buu.

Linking the German version so you can experience the original soundtrack (I'm sorry, the US dub soundtrack (and the Kai soundtrack for the Buu Saga) can NOT measure up the glory of the original one, and I'm so grateful the German dub kept it):

I was (and am to this day) utterly in love with this particular track, so much that I simply needed to have it with me, at all times.

And here's how I got it in ye olden days before Youtube (well, before I had internet access and knew about YT to MP3 converting lmao):

I had this particular episode taped on VHS (I'm That Old)

I took my phone (Nokia that had the luxury of a COLOR display) and recorded the track. You could literally hear the people cheer on the recording

I put this recording on my phone and listened to it

Yes the quality was crappy. I didn't care

Now, I have it on my MP3 player lol. Still randomly listen to it sometimes <3

So, the things about DBZ that were the most formative to me are: this scene, and Vegeta (who started my love for reformed villains and redemption arcs).

Ok, this has nothing to do with the point I'm trying to make, I just needed to clarify just how emotionally invested I am here.

Now, two decades later, Super gives me this:

Moro Arc, DBS chapter 61

Do y'all understand what this did to me?! Do you even have the slightest idea what I am going through here?

They probably thought nothing of it, but back in the Buu Saga it was Vegeta who came up with the genkidama plan: to take the energy of everyone on Earth, and other planets too, to defeat an enemy too strong for any single person to handle.

Vegeta, the guy who's perpetually allergic to ask for help.

Now, it's Vegeta who does the opposite, and yet, the same: he takes energy that was stolen, and returns it to where it belongs, literally giving people their lives back in some cases. (The symbolism of the Namekians being the ones revived by him is CRAZY.)

And the imagery is so similar? I just. ??!?!?!?! HOW AM I TO DEAL.

ALSO:

DB ch. 515 & 516:

Goku receiving the energy from Earth, perfecting the genkidama, and he throws it.

And now:

Super, ch. 66:

That's the god ki Uub sent, and Vegeta is the one to throw it to Goku to give him the power he needs to end Moro.

And that power literally comes from the reincarnation of the very being they destroyed last time? OH WOW.

(Initially I wasn't so sure what to think about this particular point but hey, the D in Dragon Ball stands for Deus Ex Machina, so ... whatever.)

I'm like. Did they do this on purpose? Is this coincidence?

How am I supposed to be normal about any of this?

Also funny how Buu Saga was the whackiest in DBZ while Moro Saga in DBS is a goddamn fucking masterpiece.

[weiying-lanzhan-fics]

Turn Left by kianspo

Second time reading. Love this story so much!

Find it entertaining (foul jokes with a corpse!), sarcastic (LZ is the best!), heartwarming (brother love), and endearing! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

And heartbreaking - poor LZ has to go through a lot in this one. Absolutely worth a read - such a great story of pain but eventual happiness.

Quotes:

He goes to sit by the wall, not too close to a few other beggars. They all give him looks anyway, some call out, something loud and nasty. He ignores them. He wouldn’t know how to answer and has no energy to try.

He sits with his back to the wall, trying to maintain proper posture. He doesn’t have an empty bowl to put in front of him. Monks in Guanyin temples are known to share food with the beggars sometimes when they have some to spare. Xiaoxiao hopes this might be one such order. He’s willing to eat off the ground if it comes to that. He’s not picky.

He sits with his eyes closed, but no one approaches him, not the first day, and not the second. He doesn’t know if others managed to get food. He thinks he’d heard some commotion at some point, but his mind is drifting too much. He’s beginning to lose words, and what few remain refuse to form into concepts.

The only thing he’s consistently aware of is the soft amber glow in his lower belly. With what senses he can feel it, he doesn’t know, but, with his eyes closed, he can see it curling down below, burning steady but weak, and getting weaker. He’s suddenly overwhelmed with sorrow for it. In his mind’s eye, it’s like a tiny, soft animal, trusting and defenseless, like a kitten or a bunny. It’s kind, he feels. It’s kind and caring, and he’s supposed to protect it, and he can’t. His eyes burn, but he can’t produce tears.

————

Xiao Yanyi has zero desire to bow to him, but of course follows both the rules of politeness and his shixiong’s lead. The Jin disciple’s gaze slides from one to the other, and his mouth twists in derision.

“Sure, no problem, I can let you in right now,” he tells Xiao Xingchen, not bothering to return the greeting, despite being here to represent the hosts. His eyes slide over to Xiao Yanyi, and he scoffs. “But he can forget about it. Face like that, people won’t know if he’s hunter or prey.”

He laughs at his own joke, and the Wen disciples join in, gleefully parsing Xiao Yanyi’s appearance.

“What do you think, a ghost of a murderer?”

“No! A lech done to death by a jealous mistress!”

“Ha! I wonder if he’s like that underneath his robes! Maybe she didn’t just stop at his face!”

Xiao Yanyi realizes he’s frozen in place. Distantly, he wonders at it. It’s not like this is something he wasn’t prepared for or anything new. What is this paralysis? Why can’t he say a word?

Xiao Xingchen’s smile has slipped, but he’s trying to rally, ignoring the other youths and addressing the Jin disciple.

“This is my shidi. He’s a cultivator, same as I am. You can’t turn him away simply because of his appearance.”

“Can’t I?” the Jin disciple scoffs. “That he’s no beauty is his bad luck, but how’d he get them scars then? They look awfully like someone’s tried to carve a warning into his ugly mug. Was it an executioner or a butcher? What if he’s a murderer who got away? And I’m supposed to just let him in?”

Xiao Yanyi hears his own voice, though he can barely control his throat as he says, “I am no murderer.”

“Really?” The Jin disciple leans back in his chair obnoxiously, eyes narrowed in malevolent glee. He’s been bored stuck with this job, Xiao Yanyi realizes. He’s been spoiling for something like this. “Prove it then. Strip where we all can see. If there are no embarrassing brands on you, then maybe I’d let you in. But if there are, the guards are right here.”

“Young Master Jin—” Xiao Xingchen starts, frowning, but the Jin youth isn’t listening.

“Come on, stop pretending to be some blushing maiden!” he taunts. “If you’ve got nothing to hide, strip so we can all see!”

Noise is rising in Xiao Yanyi’s ears, the same overpowering, ringing sound that had been such a plague on him back in his days at Madam Ji’s brothel. Fighting resentful spirits is one thing, but this type of attack is debilitating, too much. His vision is becoming spotty, and he’s losing control of his body. He can vaguely feel Xiao Xingchen moving closer, and yet not close enough, afraid to touch him. Xiao Yanyi is drowning, surrounded by people and all alone.

Suddenly, a clear cool voice cuts in.

“What is going on here?”

————

“You don’t want to tell me?” Wei Wuxian pouts. Pouts. “But I’m very trustworthy! Huh. No, wait, never mind that, I know who you are!”

Xiao Yanyi stares.

Wei Wuxian is grinning at him, alight with his discovery. “You’re that cultivator who cleansed the entire river valley further upstream! They told me in the village. I rushed over here when I heard about the flood—ripe time for water ghouls and all—and they told me I might as well not bother going further up, that some cultivator in white, with—uh, with a distinguished face, had already cleansed the entire basin. I just didn’t expect you to be so young!”

Xiao Yanyi bows his head slightly. He didn’t miss Wei Wuxian’s near-slip, and he can’t say he feels any better about the hasty edit. After such a long time, he should be used to it. Why does it still hurt every now and then? Why can’t he learn to not let it?

“But this is perfect!” Wei Wuxian barrels on, oblivious. “After going to that place, I didn’t think there was a match for me in my generation, but now you’re here. This is brilliant! Want to work together to get the rest of the ghouls?”

Xiao Yanyi blinks, tripped up again.

“You… wish to work with me?” he asks, feeling his way. After all, working with him would mean staying close to him and his ‘distinguished face.’ Surely, this bright young cultivator could not have meant—

“Yes!” Wei Wuxian beams. “You can make it up to me for ruining my perfect ambush—no, it was perfect, I’ll accept no arguments on it! But uh…” He rubs the back of his neck with a rueful grin. “Maybe, we can think of a new plan. For the sake of originality only, obviously—can’t just be living off old masterpieces. What do you say?”

Xiao Yanyi stares at him some more, unable to utter a word. Slowly, he nods.

M, 204k

Summary:

“Make me so ugly that no one will ever want me,” he says. “Please.”

Or: Lan Wangji is kidnapped from the Lan Clan when he's still a small child. He retains no memories of his real identity, and only knows himself as a servant at Madam Ji's brothel. When the clients begin to look at him with interest, he finds someone to curse him and take away his true appearance, and with it any chance of ever finding his family.

(Not a brothel fic, that's only the starting point. A Wangxian story. A Twin Jades story.)

[animeloverskylarmoon]

Byakuya Kuchiki (Bleach)- Oneshot

“Did you see him, it’s Kuchiki-taicho!”

The squeals were the only indication you needed. Whenever new reapers came in this is typically how it went. They’d gush over the captains.

Especially him.

At this point you should expect it. Standing at attention, you watch as the captains walk pass. Truthfully you admire their strength. Your ultimate goal was to someday obtain such a position. It was far-fetched, but you couldn’t help it.

There’s a powerful aura that seems to emit from simply their presence. Your eyes follow every movement. When they connect with a pair of steel gray hues, your body froze. It’s just a glance, nothing more, but it holds much more than you expected. You break eye contact hurriedly, looking down at your feet, flustered.

“What the hell am I doing..”

Why the hell would you look directly at him?

It felt quite the same as declaring a love confession. You huff, agitated and you keep your eyes planted down for the rest of the time that they are there. Once it’s finally over, you feel as though you can finally breathe easy. The lieutenants begin ushering the reapers to their designated squads and you follow as people begin to divide up.

The rest of the week is preparation and training. You’re grateful that you’re a member of the thirteenth squad. Being as far away from Byakuya was ideal. He’s too much of a distraction. You know it’s wrong to harbor any feelings for him. He’s emotionally detached. His views are of duty and protection of the integrity of the Soul Society. Even though that’s the case, you can’t help it. You’d seen him in battle one time and you haven’t been able to get over how effortlessly extraordinary he is.

“This is aggravating.”

Jushiro chuckles and you straighten, flushing. You hadn’t realized that you’d been talking to yourself. You’ve been doing that a lot.

“Is there a reason you are aggravated (Y/N)-san?”

You scratch your head with a laugh.

“I-I was just rambling, it’s nothing really.”

You hope that’s enough for him to drop the topic. There’s a part of you that wonders why you couldn’t have fallen for someone like him. Even if he had rejected you, he probably would have done it so nicely you would end up apologizing. You laugh internally at your thoughts and Jushiro gives you a curious look.

“Ukitake-taicho, is Rukia-san back yet?”

“Ah, no she hasn’t returned. If I remember correctly she should be coming in a few weeks. The head captain has asked that she stay close to Ichigo for the time being to ensure his powers have fully returned.”

“That sounds so cool! Rukia-san always gets the cool missions.” You mumble.

“Given her relationship with Ichigo, I believe the head captain was just trying to avoid the inevitable. Abarai-san has a bad habit of getting into fights when he’s there. He wanted to avoid damage to the town.” You giggle.

“I suppose you are right.”

It’s funny to watch the way they bicker, you’ll admit that. Renji would never say it, but he respects Ichigo. You would too if you’d survived the things he’d been through.

“Do you think that-”

The fluttering of black and crimson wings startles you.

“Ukitake-taicho, there is hollow activity in the tenth squad.”

The alert makes you clench your teeth. It’s not a shock that hollow activity is increasing. With the recent shift in energy, the head captain has accounted for just about everything.

You both take off without so much as another word. There’s a part of you that expects chaos when you land. But Jushiro is wearing the same comical expression at the sight before you.

“We got them Taicho!!”

“Take that stupid hollows!!

“Leave some for me!” Kenpachi calls.

There was obviously no need for cavalry, because members of squad eleven are handling the distress call.

If anything you feel a bit sorry for the hollows. A few of them appear to be running for their lives. One is grabbed by the leg, and you sweatdrop when Kenpachi grins down at the very large beast.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

It’s sweating profusely. All he does is swing his hand. It’s flying into the air. You know he intends to go after it. At least you think he does. There’s nothing but a glowing light in the distance like a star of its descent into another world.

“Kenny you threw it too far, he’s gone.” Yachiru comments.

“Damn.” He looks unaffected and you just sigh.

“I don’t think our services are needed.” Jushiro sheaths his blade and you do the same.

“We should do a sweep of the squads around to ensure no others have breached.”

You nod.

Jushiro goes left and you go right.

With your eyes fixed ahead, you’re ready for anything. You’re jumping from building to building, but you don’t see a thing. You’re a bit relieved that there isn’t any damage. At least none that the hollows made. Kenpachi is definitely going to leave a mess wherever he goes.

By the time you make it to the sixth squad you realize that the area is clear. You intend to keep going straight up to the first, but the pink petal drifts into your line of vision and you turn your head. Your eyes widen when you spot him. He’s standing next to a tree and the entire atmosphere feels as though it has changed. Your arms drop slowly and your feet touch the ground quietly.

All he’s doing is standing there. You’re possibly fifty feet away at best, but you can’t stop staring.

He just looks so..

“Beautiful..”

Apparently you said that aloud. His head turns and once again you’re completely frozen. That harsh gaze is fixed on you. You should say something, inform him that you’re only doing a patrol. Words refuse to form and when he steps away from the blossom tree, your heart is going much faster than it has ever gone.

Even in battle.

His steps seem to echo, and you want to swallow, but you can’t. None of your usual body functions are working.

He’s right before you and he stops.

“Were you referring to me.”

He’s talking to you, he must be. But you can’t formulate a sentence, much less respond.

“I asked you a question.”

You flinch and bow fully. It’s an instinct.

“G-Gomen!!”

Why are you even apologizing, it’s not like you’ve done anything wrong. You just feel like you have.

“I-I was just doing a sweep for hollow activity. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You’re almost afraid to lift your head.

“You said that I was beautiful.”

The statement made your eyes widen. You feel absolutely embarrassed.

“Gomen!!”

That’s all you can get yourself to say at this point.

“Are you so superior that you refuse to meet my gaze.”

Just the insinuation makes you panic.

You jolt upright.

“O-Of course not Kuchiki-taicho I-”

Your words come to a stop, because you expect his eyes to hold irritation, or at the very least anger for saying what you did. Yet, his expression looks almost…soft..

How could such a stoic person look so effortlessly attractive?

“I was right, you are beautiful..”

The slight change in his eyes alerts you that you’ve once again opened your big mouth and blurted out something that should never leave your lips. Your face heats up immediately as you begin to stutter.

This is mortifying.

“G-G-Gomen!!”

He says nothing. He just watches you as if trying to make an assessment. Without so much as another word, he turns.

“Let’s go.”

“G-Go? G-Go where?”

He just glances back at you, and a pleasant shiver rushes up your spine.

“Y-Yes Kuchiki-taicho!”

You prepare to follow and he takes off. You’re so consumed in your rushing thoughts that you don’t take notice of the small smile that briefly crosses his lips. 

[chevelleneech]

Sapporo is tomorrow, and I’m so intrigued on whether or not the episode 1 & 2 vibe will be back. Because as much as I personally didn’t dislike 3-5, being on the other side of those episodes now does feel like AYS didn’t actually happen. For three weeks it was easy to fall back into the mindset of anticipating ot7 content. Yes, it just maknae line, but their energy is pretty much the same as when all seven are together, so that’s what my mind went back to being used to.

Episodes 1 & 2 though, came as a bit of a surprised, because I anticipated something mildly different from RUN/In the Soop, but nothing too wild. And the episodes weren’t wild-wild, but they came with some domesticity that I didn’t think we’d see from them. The comfort and ease with which they orbit each other. I mean, they’re completely fine being still (as in, sharing space without feeling the need to fill it with conversation or movement) with one another in a way that wasn’t shown almost at all in 3-5.

So I’m not getting my hopes up, but I am very curious if they’ll return to that dynamic. Because if so, it’ll speak even more to the connection they have and how protective of they are, even around the other members. Not saying they’re afraid of them or don’t trust them, as I’m sure they 100% do, but with Tae around it was almost visibly noticeable that they changed their dynamic a little to include him. Which is normal. We all act somewhat different going from a one on one interaction to a trio+, but at the same time, Vmin do not have that same soft and still connection. Neither do Tkk. And when Tae wasn’t around in 3-5, we got glimpses of JM and JK returning to their bubble, even in front of multiple cameras.

I don’t know where my thoughts are going entirely, as I’m more so just thinking “aloud”, but if their best friend takes them out of their bubble yet cameras don’t… it becomes harder for me to believe they’re not simply editing stuff out if not just turning the cameras and mics off entirely, lol. Not to do anything, but whenever they don’t want to be seen or heard, they aren’t. Which is probably very natural for them. They tell the crews to cut, so they do and probably leave the area (likely anywhere the group films and stuff, except Bangtan Bombs.)

I would imagine it’s easier to maintain their bubble when it’s just the two of them, no matter how it comes across on camera. Because again, they don’t have to film it all. They can have complete privacy when it’s just to two of them, but a third party means they have someone else to entertain, which pops the bubble. Thus, I’m interested to see if the bubble returns.

[ria-writes-stories]

Title: Mirrors

Ship: Vuzi

Genre: Romance, Cotton-glass

Description: They have one thing in common, right? Loving the same fool who could never see them

I SUMMON THEE ANCIENT SPIRIT OF THE SOULS REALM!

-------------------------

(No one's pov)

Life isn't a piece of cake. It's not a piece of cake at all, indeed it is made out of layers but each is more bitter than the other instead of being sweeter. Everything is simply absurd, absurdly complex and bitter. Nothing makes sense! The concept is easy but when you get to dissecting it, there are so many elements that have to be put together to make everything, it feels idiotic. Not everyone knows how to bake, and not everyone likes sweets.

She loved him, she loved him so much, her heart bled out for him and what did he do in return? Not a quarter of the sacrifices that she had done, and he wasn't even able to recognise them. Yes, he has 'sacrificed' himself sometime, and now look where it got them because unlike her he acts irrational.

She trusted him, she trusted him more than anyone else she knew, her first ever friend and he wasn't even able to recognise it. She has given so much and he has given none. 'A man should this a man should that' that didn't apply to drones! So then why was she vulnerable in front of him but he not once showed any intention of being vulnerable with her? To protect her? Oh please.

V was looking at the sky with a tired look on her face, her arms crossed across her chest as she stood on the lone cold roof of the building. Nothing made sense anymore... She was a drone right? There's no afterlife for drones... what would she loose if she fell down? What was she fighting for now? She could never get a grip on anything anymore.

Uzi banged her head against her desk with her fists clenched tightly before her hands went limp as she sighed heavily. Was she doing something wrong? He didn't seem as happy as she was... It didn't feel like it... She waited her whole life for someone, anyone, to understand her, to accept her, to want her, but, it felt one sided. It wasn't fair. IT WASN'T!

Uzi punched her table before holding her head in annoyance.

Strolling in this cold ruthless wasteland of a planet all alone.

Or that's one would like to think, for whenever you are the loneliest someone else finds you, without them even acknowledging it. It just happens.

Uzi found V on the edge of a rooftop, and once she spotted she tried to turn around in her tracks but before she even got to V landed in front of her blocking her path with her wings spread like a demonic being coming to reap her soul. "And you're going where?" V asked as her face wasn't yet visible for her head was turned down. "BITE ME! It's none of your-" Uzi cut herself as her eyes widened when she saw V's tired lone eyes look up at her with a familiar look, a sickening familiar look, because she also had it. "It's not hard to see you're in the same place as me." V said simply as Uzi stood there unable to move, speechless. "It's he isn't he?" V asked with a knowing look as Uzi felt something drop inside of her heart. Was she that obvious?

"I saw you from the rooftop...I've been watching you for the past twenty minutes or so, you're walking aimlessly at a fast pace, as if you want to tire yourself out, get your head off from something constantly haunting you no matter what. Am I right?" Uzi wanted to be mad, she wanted to be angry, an angsty rebellious teen, but being angsty means pain and misery and never before has Uzi felt this stronger.

She looked away as she clenched her fist as her other hand stayed limp at her side as she looked at the ground unable to muster up any amount of energy to fight. She was frozen in place. She couldn't just walk away, she couldn't just disappear from there even if she wanted to.

Before she kenw it Uzi felt something she hasn't felt since the time before of her memories, the warmth of another. V warped her hands around her in a gentle soft manner as she kept Uzi within her embrace with her wings warped around her in a soft manner to let her know that she can leave whenever without needing to fight for it.

But Uzi couldn't fight, not anymore, not like this.

She quietly broke into tears as her face rested on V's chest as her hand gripped onto V's wings as she shivered softly as V gently held her closely to her, with one hand resting on the back of her head as her other one rested on her waist, her tail softly warped around her torso.

The last people we expect to find comfort from end up being the ones we needed from the beginning, it's so funny, isn't it? Yeah...hilarious.

V hushed her softly as she kept while Uzi's face got stained with her own bitterness. Such awful salty tears shouldn't rest on her perfect face's cheeks. So V did the most rational thing. She couldn't take her hands off Uzi, she couldn't leave her to feel helpless. She knew the feeling, back when she was a shy little maid, she had no one to hold her, but if they did, the moment they cleaned her tears they'd be gone as soon as they appeared because they'd think the problem was solved. She didn't want to do that to her, she couldn't, it would be so cruel. V kissed away her tears. Soft butterfly kisses covered all of Uzi's face as the salty contents of her tears made their way inside of V's mouth and tastebuds.

Uzi looked at her puzzled and confused not knowing how to react as V simply looked at her with a knowing look. She has been through this, she felt all that Uzi has felt up until now. She had no parental figure to hold her, she had no friend to understand her, and the boy she liked deserted her more than once, more than he realised despite his best indentions and wishes.

Uzi looked at V sadly as she slowly began to see more and more all of the sorrow and grief within her eyes. All this time one was at the other's throat and for what? For a blind fool and for their own selfish desires. Why fight on your own when everyone can get what they want by making an alliance?*

Uzi slowly raised her hand, making it's way to V's cheek, in response V closed her eyes and held her breath. "Don't." She said in a cold distant and serious manner.

She couldn't deal with this. She couldn't allow herself, not now, not when she could leave behind not now when... when...

Uzi flinched, keeping her hand at bay, before hesitantly making her way back to V's cheek, softly caressing it as V exhaled sharply with her fangs slightly visible as she caved into Uzi's hand helplessly.

Each deprived of warmth, each deprived of attention, each deprived of appreciation, each deprived of love. Mirrors, that's what they were, but who was mirroring who was a line that could never be found for it had no trace to lead to it.

In the darkest of times you are left stranded only to find your corner of heaven that'll forever keep you fueled to the end of time regardless of what comes next.

That night V slept in Uzi's bed, holding the shorter purple haired female closely to her chest with her wings warped around the two of them, keeping them in a cozy warm cocoon, as both were far too tired to think about how they'll act tomorrow morning after this interaction.

Uzi nuzzled herself into V's chest closely, hiding in her arms and wings like a small little mouse hiding from the big scary world, while V embraced Uzi as if she was her sole source of comfort and safety after such a long time of endlessly running around like, wounded, bleeding, left to die, abandoned like a dog, now finding shelter and safety.

A strand of silver hair tickled Uzi's visor, causing her to wake up, realising that it was probably late morning, something along the lines of 10 AM, a time where V most likely couldn't leave the colony without risking overheating to near death.

Uzi's eyes gently caressed V's face, she looked so tired but, for once she looked at peace, at least for once.

V woke up to the soft feeling of someone holding herself close, pushing themselves into her as if wanting to combine their beings into one, and before she knew it Uzi had her legs tangled with hers as her hands tightly warped around her upper waist affectionately.

Uzi was hiding her face in V's neck.

A soft blush rested on V's face as her arms softly warped around Uzi's torso as her tail stayed limp outside of the bed as to avoid accidentally running the moment with an unintentional sting.

Her wings brought Uzi closer to herself as she softly kissed her forehead.

Freshly awoken yet tired like never before, that's what it feels when you get a good rest after so long, you feel like you didn't get enough and that you'll never get as much as you need but that's alright, because now that you know what it feels like, knowing how to get it, you have higher chances to soon feel it once again.

The end

[theportuguesewolf]

AMERICAN PAIN

Umberto Eco once said (and I'm quoting from memory): North Americans are the only people who can worship Snow-White and Jaws with the same fervour. 

Yesterday, at the Moonspell Q&A, I got many questions about returning to the US and tour. Please take this with a pinch of salt, yet we have a private joke running in the band which is that all our North-American fans can fit in a plane and should come to Europe where they could see us properly, with a show based in more than mere energy of surviving through the night.

When we are at odds with life in America and read these "come to America" comments ,we, jokingly, add: Come to the US so we won't show up.

Last tour alongside Eleine and Oceans of Slumber wasn't fun for me. The venues were kinda empty, the streets were dirty and dangerous and the motivation simply wasn't there. Sure, we can still deliver the goods; naturally I can still have fun with the many things 'Merica has to offer from the amazing landscapes, to crazy Vegas, and libraries, bookshops, and street food and I will for sure miss it ( I already do) but I can't see at the moment taking another trip to the States and loosing money and time and being very depressed again, about it all.

Last night, I told you a little of my unfortunate encounter with a "gang" in NY in the hotel we're staying prior to our return trip to Portugal but the shortage of time made me default on some details and I'd like to share it more completely, if you don't mind:

I was minding my own business and ruminating about the past month on the road, while keeping an eye on our gear , when I was approached by a black young man who asked me, rather rudely, for my phone number which I promptly refused to give him.

Used, so it seems, to get his way around things and people, he immediately started to be aggravated, while I tried to explain to him, to no effect, what was I doing there and that I was okay in giving him the number of our bus driver as he "needed" to have all the phone numbers of the proprietors of the vehicles parked in the hotel lot.  Fair enough.

But, seeing the way this young man escalated things on his own, no more explanations could I offer and he just started to act out on the parking lot and shouting threats at me. I went to the reception to call security and indeed there was a "guard" there, who tried to approach this angry person nicely, but the die was cast. I went to him myself (again) and tried to reason with him and even offered an apology because we were, definitely, lost in translation, but he started to offend me, calling all the names in the book that I shan't repeat here.

He added: "You'll get what you deserve" and in 10 minutes time, a van parked near the hotel reception and a Gang of four black individuals came out of the car, while the previous guy was shouting at me, constantly, that he wanted to see what I was going to do now.

I am a father, a husband, a singer, a writer, an entrepreneur but , above all, I am a simple man. And it was a simple man that I went to the gang "leader" and explained him who I was, where I came from, what happened, what could happened if they attacked me (they did have masks on and their hands in their pockets meant guns) because I was a Portuguese citizen and while his little brother kept screaming threats and improperares and my band watched in panic, I could reach out to the gang leader which not only told off his brother but also shook my hand, telling me words I will never forget: "Have a blessed day, brother." And we both went to our homes.

I could now stop to observe a lot what's happening to one of the most beautiful and spectacular countries in the world: the 70.000 people who died of drug abuse; the tent cities all over the place; the misery and the chaos but I won't go any further. 

I just wish to extend an olive branch to the people who almost attacked me, and yes, we are brothers and maybe victims of a cruel, money-oriented world, a world without a shred of value to show for.

Also, I want to embrace all the Moonspell North-American and Canadian fans and ask them for their empathy and forgiveness, while I offer, hereby, my best explanation of why I dread the thought of another tour in the States.

I never went public with this but I felt it was the time, so we can keep watching for ourselves and respect one another as I respected that gang leader and he respected me back. 

Goth help America, happy holidays y'all, don't forget to follow my new blog for more of this and that.

[the-spaced-out-ace]

Lautski Week Day 5 (Alt prompt: Fairy Tale)

(warning: i am sucker for fairy tales, so this one is LONG. putting most of it under a read more, OR if you'd rather read it on AO3, here it is)

Pete really had to have had the worst luck in the world, the more he thought about it. Being the spare in heir and spare, though his birth hadn’t exactly been planned in the first place, and being such a sickly little thing he’d nearly killed his poor mother trying to arrive. Then to carry that same ailment for the rest of his life, a dizziness he could never quite name if he ever found himself too overwhelmed or overworked, and could only hope to cure with a little rest and food if there was any available. Spending his whole life knowing he could get away with anything since his elder brother was the heir, being grateful he was out of the court’s watchful eye and hurting over lack of conversation with his parents nonetheless, feeling isolated from the castle staff and having no one his own age to ever talk to, being so on the outside from the rest of the world he’d wish he could flat-out be invisible instead. It’s not like things would be any different. But then he just had to go and offend the wrong person, during one of his daily walks in the courtyard, when he bumped into an odd man in a yellow coat. He briefly assumed the man to be a gardener, but as he tried to at least know the names of all the people employed at the castle, it irked Pete that he didn’t recognize this man specifically. Pete asked him, “who are you?” and in response, the man laughed, “a bastard!”

All at once, Pete felt a rush of energy flow through him. He looked down. His sleeves were there. The cuffs were there. His hands were not.

“Got your wish, haven’t you, Petey?”

Pete began to apologize to the man, the warlock or demon or whatever else he could have been, if he caused any harm walking into him or speaking so curtly, but he refused to listen to a word of it.

The rules were laid out to him simply: the young prince was now invisible, doomed to roam the world faceless for the rest of his days unless someone loved him above all else for his heart and mind alone.

And there he was, five months later, still wandering. 

He’d slipped away from the castle that night, assuming no one would notice, though by now, rumors of the missing prince’s whereabouts were engulfing the people of the kingdom, some even claiming that the crown prince himself would pay a hefty sum to anyone who could deliver the safe return of his younger brother.

Perhaps if he’d stayed home and told his pitiful story to his family, they would have hosted a matchmaking ball just for him, inviting all the young noble ladies of the land for a chance to meet the prince and win his heart. It wouldn’t have worked, of course. He would need to be the one winning someone’s heart, and the game of love was never something he excelled in—seemingly another curse, a family one. And when people did see him now, they always screamed and ran in fear upon seeing his faceless and undefined form, convinced he was a specter, or in extreme cases, a demon. On two separate occasions, a priest would be dragged back to where he’d tried to take camp, and the party would attempt to exorcize him. By sheer stroke of luck did he come across a cloak abandoned in a tailor’s scraps, and thanking whatever benevolent force was out there, took the coak and made it his new shield from humiliation and window into the world.

Often, he found himself drawn to the marketplace nearest wherever in the woods he’d chosen to make home. He used to simply buy what he needed, but after enough time, funds were low, and he drew enough attention to himself when he had gold coins on him before. Now though, he’d trade or barter, plants he found in the woods and sticks for kindling in turn for fresh food and water. And because no one ever saw his face, nor questioned the hood of his cloak, he was never given much more than a second glance. Some merchants had taken an appreciation—dare he assume fondness—for the quiet boy who emerge from the woods once a week, knew just enough about medicinal and edible plants to barter for his needs, and disappeared again just as soon. He wasn’t quite invisible to them. But he was nameless, which was in many ways, the same thing. 

One day, a girl he’d done business for a few times but never truly talked to spoke up to him. 

“What’s with the hood, anyway? It’s not that cool out.”

From what he’d picked up, this girl was very wealthy, given the hundreds of dollars worth of goods in her little corner. More often than not, a man that resembled her or a red-headed woman took the reins, leading him to believe she was from a rich merchant family, or a noblewoman whose family was somewhere in the middle of the ranks. 

“It’s to hide myself,” he finally eventually answered. He extended his gathering of wild mint to her. “I have the usual request from here. Your father said next time I came with some I could trade for some of your chocolates.”

He didn’t think it was a very fair trade. Before, he could access those soft, sweet treats whenever he wanted. They were even one of the few things that could ease him quickly when his mysterious illness struck. Surviving on his own with dwindling funds taught him how expensive it was to the common man. And he knew enough about bartering now he didn’t think he could ever pay enough, physically or in gratitude. 

The girl took the fresh herbs and gave him a whole handful of the candy. “I put him up to that, actually,” she said. “You’re one of our best customers when it comes to sweet things.”

“My tooth for a bit of sugar can never quite be satisfied,” he admitted, “and they’re one of the few things that can help me get past my ailments when I’m dizzy.”

“I see,” she said. “But let’s go back to the original topic. Why do you hide your face?”

“People always scream when they see me.”

“Surely you’re not so frightening under there.”

Pete shook his head. “If I saw someone else like me I’d take quite the fright, too.”

“And that is because…”

Pete stayed silent for a moment. “It’s hard to explain. And impossible to believe.”

“Mysterious. I like it.”

If Pete had a visible face, he’d be blushing. “Forgive me,” he said. “I’ve been coming by this market for the past two months and I’ve neglected to learn your name.”

“Stephanie,” she said. “Now you have to repay me the favor.”

“Peter,” he said. “My name is Peter.”

“Well, Peter, enjoy your chocolates. Though I hope you don’t have to eat them all next time you’re sick.”

“I hope the same thing for myself,” he said. And with that, he was off and onto the next errand. 

The next week, Stephanie was at the booth again. She flagged him down. 

“I have nothing to trade to you today,” Pete started. 

“I hoped you’d give me a chance to just talk, learn a little more about the mysterious boy who shows up and disappears like clockwork,” she said. 

“There’s not much to me,” he said. “I left home to see if my luck would change, that’s all.”

“And?”

“And it hasn’t.”

Stephanie nodded, smiling a sad and sympathetic smile. “At least that means you get to be a little closer to here. You’re quite welcome around town.”

“I have my own shelter set up in the woods.”

“Well, would you ever consider one cooked dinner in a warm house?” she asked. “Just one night away from there?”

“I can’t risk it,” Pete said. “Wild animals or bandits could get to my resources. And I’d still rather not reveal myself.”

“I’m sure with a gentle demeanor like yours, no appearance could be as bad as you think it is.”

Pete thought for a second. Stephanie did not come across as scared of anything, though he still couldn’t guarantee that she would be still if she did see him. 

That headstrong nature and generosity seemed to win him over, though. 

“…do you really wish to see what’s underneath this hood?” he asked. 

“Yes.”

“Then meet me at the edge of the woods, tonight.”

He waited. And just as the sun finally sank beneath the horizon, she appeared to him, lantern lit. 

“I understand if you scream or run away,” he warned her, “But please don’t bring an exorcist or angry mob to me. I’ve made my new home here.”

“I don’t understand,” Stephanie told him. 

Pete only sighed, pulling down his hood. Stephanie stared. 

She did not scream. She did not run. She seemed not to react at all. 

“How did this happen to you?” she asked after what could have been mere moments but to the young prince seemed an excruciating lifetime. 

“…cursed by upsetting the wrong man,” he said. “It can only be broken if someone loves me for my heart and mind. I know that will never happen, so I’ve made my peace wandering the world this way.”

Stephanie drew closer, outreaching her arm. “Give me your hands,” she instructed. Pete, with some effort, trying to remember where each finger was, eventually interlocked his own hands in hers. She smiled. 

“You are not a monster, no matter what you think of yourself,” she said. “You’re a gentle and intelligent boy. And my favorite customer.”

“You’re my favorite merchant,” he said. 

Stephanie blushed and grinned. 

She came back to him every afternoon he did not come into town. They’d talk for hours on end as she helped him gather supplies and they would talk about whatever came to mind. About science, and the market, and home. About how he missed his and she resented hers. 

On one of the days, they talked about love, how Peter was sure that if it existed, it was not his destiny. 

“My parents were betrothed at a young age. They never got the chance to choose what they wanted themselves. My brother is a hopeless romantic, convinced he must be Romeo Montague himself, but can never find himself a beloved. Surely it must be in my blood. My fate, even.”

“Perhaps you could be the one to break fate itself,” Stephanie said. “You’ve got your own charm. I think you could do it.”

Pete shrugged. “I’ve accepted my fate. I just feel fortunate I have you as company.”

“It’s my greatest honor, Peter.”

Some more weeks later, on the summer solstice, she snuck out just to be with him at his camp as the stars glowed above. 

“I even brought you a special gift,” she told him. 

She held out a large bar of chocolate to him. He took it gratefully. 

“Thank you,” he said, and instantly, he broke it in half, handing one of the pieces back to her. 

She shook her head. “Peter, I could never—”

“I insist,” he cut in. “That’s all I’d like to do. Share with my most cherished friend.”

She took the other half, smiling fondly as she did. “Most cherished?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’re in agreement, then,” she said. “You’re not so bad, yourself.”

He sat. She slid down next to him. Staring up at the stars above them, the company of their respective cherished one was all they needed on that sweet, warm summer night. 

Pete couldn’t stop himself at one point, when he noticed a particularly bright star in the sky. He gently took her hand to gesture to her what he would have pointed out. “That one’s called Vega,” he said. “It’s one of the brightest named stars in our sky.” 

“Really?” she said, seemingly mildly impressed by his sudden show of knowledge. 

“Mm-hm.” He moved her hand carefully to point out its surrounding stars. “And all of these make up Lyra. The myth goes that the sun god Apollo gave his son, Orpheus, a lyre because he was one of the most talented musicians in Greece. When Orpheus lost his wife, his music alone was enough to convince Hades to go into the underworld and free her.”

“And did he?”

“No,” Pete said. “He looked back before she was in the light and so Eurydice had to return to the darkness.”

Stephanie sighed. “What an awful story.”

“It’s a beautiful one.”

“It’s tragic.”

“That’s what makes it so special, I think. A man, so in love with his wife, that he would literally walk into hell for her, and so desperate to hold her again he turned even if he could see her but for just one moment.”

“I’d rather see a happy ending for young lovers,” Stephanie said. She glanced over at him. “You know a lot about that kind of thing.”

“It was part of my education.”

“Only the especially wealthy think to teach that.”

“Yes.”

A long beat held the two quiet for for a long time. Stephanie spoke up again first. “You’re the missing prince.”

Pete knew he couldn’t really deny it. “I’m the missing prince,” he echoed. 

“…y’know, your curse might have done one good thing.”

“What’s that?”

“We didn’t have to worry about titles. We get to be ourselves around each other.”

He wouldn’t deny that, either. 

Deep into the night, when the only other creatures still stirring were the fireflies, she bestowed him another gift: a simple kiss. A token between two new young lovers, only desperate to not face the same tragedy as so many others. As sleep conquered him, Pete half-sensed the most wonderful rush coursing through his body. Though of course, that could have been just a dream, or pure elation to be there with Stephanie. 

He woke early in the morning, just as the sun only began to rise, like he’d done his whole life. 

Stephanie had made her own camp, sleeping just three feet away from him. She really could have gone home. He still appreciated that even in rest, they were able to keep each other company. 

So he rose, preparing for his daily routine, foraging for plants for both himself and the marketplace, and reaching out for his satchel, a change had become obvious. There was no empty space or missing pieces, but instead, his form had a definitive end. His hands. 

His cry of shock and elation jostled Stephanie awake, already prepping to look for him. 

“Peter?! Peter are you—” She looked up then, seeing the smiling, if not somewhat awkward prince in front of her for the first time. She grinned at him. She stood, slowly at first, only to then rush over to give him a proper hug. 

“Welcome back,” she said. “It’s good to finally see you.”

“It’s good to finally be seen,” he said. 

The prince and his lover had a decision to make, on what to do next. Peter thought it would be for the best to at least go home briefly, to assure his family that he was alive and well, but he didn’t want to force Stephanie to leave her own home behind. To his surprise, she insisted on making the journey with him. Not for the reward, but for Peter’s own sake. 

When they reached the palace he was once sure he’d never see again, they were allowed in, Peter and Stephanie finally getting to tell the king, queen, and crown prince the long story. But when Stephanie was asked about the prize for returning him, she politely declined. All she wanted was Peter himself. His happiness, his safety, and his mind. 

Though not quick to marry their younger son off, the king and queen did allow the romance to continue. If it had saved their son, then a love like theirs was one of the most precious things in the world. 

With the prince restored and the young couple happy, the tale ends like any good fairy tale, with happily ever after.

[persepor]

Let's talk about my favorite villains pt 1

Let's face it, sometimes the villains are better than the heroes or they are just as compelling as the heroes. So I want to go over some of my favorite villains which spans back to my childhood, I'll also put villains in quotation marks because some are framed as villains when they really are not (you'll see why).

So let's get into this!!

Eris

Eris is first on my list and- hoo boy! Do I love her so much. I need to re-watch this movie because the last time I saw this was when I was 8 or 9. First off she's a badass and I mean that, she has a plan and she'll do whatever it takes to make that plan work.

Eris is the goddess of discord, and she strikes a deal with Sinbad for him to get the Book of Peace for her. He backs out of the deal though, so she uses her powers to frame Sinbad for stealing the book. Sinbad must now track down the book and return it.

Eris' design reflects her personality and how she stirs up discord and chaos. She's designed as if she were simply smoke, with her form constantly shifting and being able to change her shape and grow. She can make herself tower over humans or make herself the same height as humans.

I always loved her for how she was simply herself while being an unforgettable villainess, her personality is unmatched and adds to why i love her so much.

Ramesses

If you haven't seen the Prince of Egypt please give it a watch it's really good. As someone who doesn't care about religion I feel DreamWorks struck gold with their adaptation of the story of Moses. They paint Rameses as a complicated villain with conflicting emotions.

Rameses doesn't want to let Moses' people go because he wants to uphold the legacy their family's dynasty has built. But, he wants his brother, Moses, back. This culminates in their sibling relationship shattering.

Rameses is not a black-and-white villain, he is 3 dimensional. But, he is still evil in wanting to keep the Hebrews as slaves. He is the reason all the plagues are set upon Egypt, resulting in his sons death.

Rameses is an interesting villain you'd have to watch the movie to really get what I'm saying about his character.

Ratchet and Madame Gasket

Putting these two together because they are a Mother-Son duo. Ratchet deals with things on the outside while his mother, Madame Gasket, deals with things on the inside with her chop shop. They both want to take over Big Weld Industry and the whole city.

These two are HILARIOUS, Ratchet acts as a sophisticated, well-put together person with a plan, but is actually a scared mama's boy. He has very hilarious scenes and lines, his interactions with his mother are also hilarious. One of my favorite scenes of his is the one where he knocks out Big Weld and says this: "Oh my god I'm as crazy as my mother!!....HYAH"

Madame Gasket used to terrify me as a child, and I can see why. She is ruthless in her approach while also being a doting mother to Ratchet. She collects 'Out modes' with her sweepers to turn them into metal to create new, shiny parts. She even got her husband out of the way so she can focus on her plan of taking over Big Weld Industries. A villain who will get rid of anything in their way is terrifying.

They are both defeated with Ratchet being chained up by his father and Madame Gasket being thrown into one of her machines.

Tatiana

A character that's posed as a villain but is put into that light. Yes she is wrong for Vinyl City's power outages, but she knew what kept the city going. She used to be Kul Fyra, leader of the rock group the Ghoulings.

I won't go much about her her because I want to talk about her in full but she is so well written. Am ex rock star that switched to EDM now has to deal with a musical revolution. She sees B2J's revolution as irrelevant because nothing will come of it.

As she points out they made the same amount of energy as EDM and that they went into this without a plan. They would put people out of jobs and cause a revolution from people who live EDM. She's the common sense B2J needed.

Fairy Godmother

You should not be surprised she's on here. She is an icon when it comes to DreamWorks villains. When DreamWorks villains are mentioned, she's the first one to be brought up.

She is portrayed as a caring individual but is a selfish person who wants her darling son Prince Charming to be king. She uses the fact Shrek took a potion to make him and Fiona human to her advantage. She makes Charming pretend to be Shrek so he can get closer to Fiona.

She also is a master manipulator, basically threatening the king to do what she wants him to do. She wants Shrek out of the picture because "Ogres don't get happily ever afters." She wants Fiona to have the picture perfect happily ever after married to charming.

Yes her entire scene at the ball is stunning. The red dress is so good and fits her character perfectly. The rendition of Holding Out for a Hero is absolutely a banger and is a go-to song of mine.

Iconic villain and has had a lasting impression on me.

Mother Gothel

I grew up with Morher Gothel as a character. Both her Disney and barbie version, which I'll talk a bit about here and in a dedicated post about early 2000s barbie. I love her character very dearly. We are talking about a gaslighting, manipulative person.

She kidnapped Rapunzel because of her hair, she doesn't love Rapunzel she loves her hair. Meanwhile, in the Barbie version, she's a cold, distant person who kidnapped Rapunzel as revenge. But we're focusing on the Disney version here.

She makes Rapunzel believe she loves her, makes the outside world to be dangerous, and manipulates her into thinking Flynn Rider abandoned her. She was willing to murder to keep Rapunzel's hair to herself. As all she cares about is her beauty and youth.

She is a master manipulator and an amazing villain as well.

Preminger

Ah Preminger one of the best Barbie villains. A villain with a great plan that fails miserably. A villain with hilarious scenes.

Preminger wants the crown to himself amd at first plans to marry Annaliese. But when that goes wrong, he tries to marry the queen. But that also goes wrong.

He has hilarious scenes such as him knocking on the cabin door to see if Annaliese is still locked in there. To the hilarious scene where he almost faints when finding out the princesses wedding will be next weak.

Preminger is the most loved barbie villain for a reason. He's dramatic, funny, and cunning. His sidekicks are hilarious and give a lot of laughs. His dog is also a great component of his character as he is an extension of Preminger.

End

Well that's the end of part 1, I have 4 more I'll discuss in part 2 so keep an eye out for that.

[aena-blue]

Manifestation - How I 'Cure' the Common Cold and How That Applies To Everything!

Hello everyone! It's been a minute but I am back with another post as I am feeling inspired today to write it! This post is about manifestation as per the teachings of Neville Goddard, Joseph Murphy, Florence Scovel Shinn and the like. This is not a post for beginners so if you are not familiar with the works of the above, this probably won't make much sense to you I'm afraid.

So on to the topic at hand. How I cure having the common cold and how this translates to essentially anything you want to manifest! This morning I was having dreams about being sick, having a cold, a sore throat, all of that. I woke up in the morning feeling tired AF and before you know it, I felt my throat sore and a fever.

Damnit, I thought. Sick again, another cold (or Covid that's making the rounds again!) and I quickly fell into the state of "being sick". I mean, of course I did, the symptoms were all there in my 3d!?

But then it hit me, that's just a state, that is just how I am identifying myself in this reality in this moment. But I know about the law of assumption, therefor I can change it. So I did. All it took was for me to decide that I am feeling just fine. That's it. I affirmed once "I am a beacon of health" and then I simply refused to pay attention to my illness and stopped identifying with it.

I got out of bed, went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, made a morning coffee and then leaned back into my bed and before you knew it. I didn't feel sick anymore. I could still sense my illness vaguely in the background, it was still there, but it wasn't affecting me the same way it did as if I would have kept identifying myself as someone who was sick with a cold and a sore throat.

As the hours passed, it went away completely. I am typing this post in the evening of that same day and I feel perfectly fine, no sore throat, no fever, no tiredness, nothing. Simply because I took myself out of that state, refused to identify with it, refused to acknowledge it and refused to feed confirming thoughts and affirmations to it. I decided to feel just fine, so I feel just fine.

Now having a cold is just like occupying any state in your life, such as "I am poor", "I am single", "I am (whatever)". The difference being that we all pretty much accept that a cold is temporary, and thus, we usually let it 'run it's course', knowing that in 2-7 days, we will feel much better.

But a cold is not different from any other state you occupy. It is a temporary identification of self, and all states are. (or could be). What if you could know that being poor is just a temporary state? Or even better, what if you could decide, today, that it is no longer part of your identity?

See we tend to over complicate manifesting with techniques, but in reality, if you can get a grip on it, it's just about deciding who you are, in this very moment, 3D circumstances be damned.

I feel just fine, I am rich as hell, I am in an amazing loving relationship. Decide who you are, not who you want to be, what you ARE right now. Catch that feeling, accept it as your reality, and it will become your reality.

I hope this helped and if you want me to make a post on anything in particular, comment or send me an ask me (can be done anonymously!)

I now offer email coaching on my Etsy Shop for anyone who needs help, assistance, guidance or just a cheerleader for their manifestation journey.

You can email me or use the “ask me” function for anything that might be on your mind, or on your heart. I am here for you all, always. Please note that the Ask Me’s are only open for dream interpretation, general questions or advice at this time.

Please consider supporting my intention & affirmation art business in return for my time and energy by making a purchase or sharing my shop on any of your social media, every page click helps my business grow and I appreciate all of your support.

You can get a sticker for about $2 and if you make a purchase and send me an email to let me know what you bought I will happily give you a free 3 card reading for a question of your choice or 1 free email for manifestation coaching, regardless of the cost of your purchase! 🧡

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For anyone that feels so inclined I do have an Etsy Shop for tarot readings.

Much love and light to you all and to the universe 💛💜

~ Lady Blue 💙

[3raaaachachacha]

9:24 pm

Seo Changbin x female reader / 813 words / angst / fluff

Warnings: none

⊱ ──────────────────────── ⊰

You had been best friends with Changbin for as long as you could remember. People would always say you were like two peas in a pod since you had experienced nearly everything together. Final exams, first relationships first kiss, first break ups, everything. Through, Changbin couldn’t help but adore you more everyday he spent time with you. You were his source of energy. He woke up in the mornings and the thought of you got him through the day.  

He had a huge crush on you to the point where he was sure he was in love with you. Though the thought of telling you scared him. He didn’t want you to reject him and make things awkward. He never wanted to lose you, even if that meant never confessing his love for you. He was okay with that, to a certain degree.

“You really need to tell her man,” Chan stated, while pouring him a drink at the bar counter, “You’ve liked her for years now, and what better way to tell her now? It’s a new year for god’s sake. Plus, I’m sure she’ll return the feelings. I mean look at you man, if I were into dudes, I’d be into you,” Chan chuckled, making Changbin choke on his drink from the cheeky remark.

“It could be the best way to begin the year or one to forget and restart,” Changbin mumbled more so to himself. "I mean not a day goes by that I don’t think about what it would be like in a relationship with her,” He sighed, “I’ve done my best to hide it for so long, but I don’t know if I can continue doing this. She’s my ideal type and we know everything about one other. I feel as if it's my job to keep her safe.”

Chan nodded at his words before handing Changbin another shot to take together. He threw it down in seconds, groaning at the foul taste before slamming it down on the countertop.

“I am in love with Y/N. I wish she would like me back, but I’m too much of a pussy to even confess to her,” Changbin whisper shouted as he ran a hand through his messy hair, "What if this ruins her start of the New Year? She had a crappy year, and I can’t be the reason for her going into 2023 hating me."

“Well, what if you just did confess?” Chan asked with a smirk on his face as Changbin gave him a confused look, “Relax and turn around.”

He did as the older boy said, only to be met with your speechless face right behind him. No words were said between the two of you. The only sounds heard were from the people around the bar. He didn’t know what to say, he felt the fear inside of him eating him away. What did he just do? Were you going to reject him? He couldn’t think right now, opting to leave and forget that this ever happened, but the way your body moved towards him made him jump back to reality.

“Y/N, I,” You quickly cut Changbin off with your lips, meeting him in a passionate, yet soft kiss unexpectedly. The way his lips melted against yours, feeling like they belonged made him intensify the kiss. It became even more passionate from the way he bit at your bottom lip as his hands situated themselves low on your waist.

“I’m in love with you too dummy,” You mumbled against his lips as you rested your forehead against his, “I just didn’t want to say anything for the same reasons,” You giggled softly, which confused him as to how you knew, “I heard everything. I was here with friends,” You grinned happily as butterflies roamed your stomach, "Besides, you didn't ruin my night. If anything, you've made it more special and I can't wait to start the new year by your side, in a different way this time."

It was as if both your dreams had come true, but neither of you knew what to do. Instead, Changbin did what he had been wanting to do for years now, properly this time.

“Can I kiss you, again?” He asked as he placed a hand on his neck out of nervousness. You simply smiled and nodded, letting him bring you flush against his chest as he kissed you more passionately this time, forgetting he was in a room of people.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Chan called out, “None of that in my bar,” He jokingly gestured towards the two of you, which you happily obliged, taking a hold of Changbin’s hand, and leading him towards the exit.

“We can stay at mine tonight,” You smirked as you practically dragged him out, “It’s quieter there, no distractions, and maybe, I can use my new gift to myself for you."

⊱ ──────────────────────── ⊰

- Admin 🌶️

[trishyeves]

For the 'I will write a kiss' ask game: Design/Khriss for #1, pretty please!

For the kissing ask game, found here. Setting this in the same Modern Urban Fantasy AU for Khriss/Design as Trish's oneshot fic The Perfect Mistake.

(Sorry for taking so long on this, Vez, Trish honestly just completely missed it in her inbox somehow)

Design/Khriss, rated Teen, 600 words

"I got into magical research because it is fulfilling," Khriss reminded herself with a mutter, "not because it is easy."

While she sat at her desk, eight different moldy tomes open across the surface mocking her attempts to divine some sort of reason from their depths, her eldritch being of a girlfriend was tidying up around the office space.

Or, rather, Design was doing her own special version of "tidying up", which sometimes ended up leaving more of a mess than when she started.

"What time is it?" Design asked suddenly, apropos of nothing.

Relishing any reason to take her eyes away from the faded ink that had held her attention for so long, and took a moment to savor a glance at her partner.

Thanks to the complex illusion wrapped around her, Design didn't look like a symbol-headed creature pulled from a dark grimoire, but like a very pale woman in the prime of her life, her hair dyed an entire rainbow of colors all pulled back with the help of a bandanna.

There was a lot of jiggling going on with each hop and skip of her movement around the room, sorting what she found by whatever arcane process guided her thoughts, thanks to the lack of bra and the presence of extremely tight leggings and a t-shirt several sizes to big for her which read, "Got Milk?" and featured a positively pornographic character from some Japanese manga.

"The time?" Design asked, meeting Khriss's eyes and pouting.

Reminded of her task, Khriss pulled out her cell phone and checked. "It's... 11:58." Nearly midnight, the witching hour, et cetera et cetera. No spells to be worked tonight, at least none that cared about the dull Western concept of timekeeping, so Khriss hadn't paid the approaching hour much heed.

Without another word, Design sauntered out of the office, her work in tidying up only half finished.

Khriss paid this no heed, for she was the one who had chosen to date an extraplanar entity made of conceptual concepts, and thus she had gotten used to the many ways her girlfriend defied understanding.

Just as Khriss was settling back into the difficult work before her, Design returned to the room, approached the desk, and kissed Khriss on the cheek. "Good morning~!"

"..." Khriss slowly contemplated that, before looking up past Design's breasts to meet her eyes. The cognitive girl was absolutely brimming with excitement, and Khriss couldn't help but indulge her. "Why?"

"You explained yesterday that couples frequently greet each other with a 'good morning' kiss the first time they see each other in the time of day called the 'morning', and so, I wanted to try it out!" Her bubbly energy was truly infectious, rendered adorable by the dimples in her soft cheeks.

Remembering suddenly her question about the time, Khriss checked again to find it was now a few minutes past midnight. "Dearest, it's not morning."

Once again, Design pouted. "Yes it is! I have heard you describe times to come as 'one in the morning' or 'seven in the morning', and deduced that 'morning' simply refers to any time during the 'am' designation." She was holding her arms behind her back now, standing on one foot and leaning down towards Khriss.

She knew the power of her breasts, damn her.

Rather than attempt to dig further into the semantic melange before her, Khriss half rose from her chair to kissing Design back, this one on the lips, then tell her, "Good morning to you too, love."

[lashysdomain]

Sing me a Song of Sentiment: Shattered

Book of Songs Solitude | Sympathy | Success | Scrutiny | Sentiment: Saccharine • Shattered | Severing

Tw for manipulation, emotional abuse, and gaslighting

Artinos' senses are muddied and dull when thought returns to him, a faint gasp of air escaping as blurry eyes wander the interior of his home. His home being dead silent would make him uneasy if it weren't for the dull ringing echoing around skull.

Throbbing like that of a limb that's been asleep for hours pricks its way through his nerve endings inch by inch sending the violet stumbling against the nearest surface of the kitchen island. The pain of movement rips through any thought that makes its way into his ringing skull as he sinks to the floor, waves of that dull numbness spreading across limb and organ.

And then— In an instant— it’s all gone, replaced with the feeling of Isatol's hands cupping his face. His muscles give from the relief, left only upright by the lime bloods hold on his head.

"Oh Arti.... What am I to do with you, cuttlefish...."

His words cut through the fog in Arti's mind, eyes turning upward to meet his mates. Giving a half mumbled apology he sits up proper, running a hand down his arm to make sure that prickling feeling is truly gone.

"Guess I was more tired than I thought..."

"This is why I told you to come back sooner... You're going to overexert yourself..."

"Oh, nah, I've done that before, I know my warning signs for it-"

"Is fainting not one? You looked like a man possessed when I came in."

"Naaah, just... Start drying out real bad. I feel f-"

A wave of dizziness strikes the seadweller mid sentence pitching him forward into Isatol's chest, that same fuzziness he'd only just gotten rid of returning.

"Or perhaps you're feeling so bad you aren't even noticing it.... Lets get you into bed to lay down, Artinos."

With a nod Isa helps Arti stand, keeping him close as they move deeper into his home and toward his room.

"I... But I.. I really was feeling fine...."

"Artinos.... You need to lay down."

"I... Need to lay down."

------

For hours now the seadweller laid at the bottom of the pool in his room, the faint buzzing of his phone from his nightstand never reaching below the waters surface.

He felt so odd... So off... Like his mind was running on autopilot and he was sat in the passenger seat waiting for his destination to arrive. Finally having enough energy to open his eyes, the ceiling Arti had last seen dark blinked with the familiar light of a notification. Through more strain than it would normally take he swims to the surface, hauling his heady body onto the surrounding tile of the pool to grab his phone from the nearby table to answer the incoming call.

"He-"

"Where the hell are you?" his moirail hisses into his ear, the phones sound having been up so high from his drive earlier that he cringes back from the speaker for a moment.

"I'm… At home…? Oh- Shit-- I'm so sorry I didn't text you. I'm fine; I laid down for a nap. I. Think."

"For six hours? You think?"

"S. SIX!?" In a confused panic Arti immediately pulls the phone away from his face, setting his rail on speaker to check the time. Six hours. Six whole hours he's laid at the bottom of his pool simply breathing and unable to think straight.

"I didn't think I'd laid there for that long.... I got home with snacks for Isa and when I got inside I was feeling woozy so I laid down.... I'm so sorry I worried you Justya.... I was going to head to the garage tonight too but now it's... So late..."

"It's fine. I'm just glad you're alright." There's a pause between the pair as Arti slowly takes in Justya's tone- She's worried still, he can at least tell that much from just how irritated she sounds. "You are alright, yeah?"

"Ah-Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine now... I've still got like. A brain fogginess to me, but I'm alright!" He knows his tone betrays just how uneasy and desperate he is for this to be true. For this to be nothing to worry about, just his body being. Weird.

"Right. Well. Do you need me to come by? You don't sound like you should be alone."

Silently he thinks for a moment, Arti knowing with her tone what Justya is saying is more a declaration of her arrival than asking. It would be nice to have her over so he has someone so impor—

His train of thought is cut short when Isatol's hand sets down on his shoulder, the seadweller jumping as the deep rumbling growl of his voice in Arti's ear sends a shiver up his spine.

"I'm here, he's not alone."

"I uh... Maybe you should still come over. I'll coo-"

"Artinos."

The violets ears begin to ring from the boom of Isatol's voice in his ear, that fog slowly taking back over his mind as any line of thought other than being alone with his mate leaves him.

"Yeah, it might be... Best it's just the two of us tonight, huh...?"

The air feels heavy as Artinos becomes extremely aware of his own breathing, his lungs almost struggling to gain air as Justya's last remark cuts through.

"Yeah. Sure."

Beep

[kayleezra]

A Sunflower and Their Encyclopedia // (Ezra x GN!Reader)

Word Count: idk like 500-600

Summary: Modern AU? idk but we're on Earth so you decide. Ezra tells you he loves you.. in some less than normal ways...

A/N: FOR MY WIFE @writer-darling WHOSE BIRTHDAY IT IS TODAY (it's short and shitty because I just typed it up after work but I couldn't not post something!) BUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY I LOVE YOU MOSTEST

oh and this is like not at all accurate because sunflowers use circadian rhythm to face and follow the sun but… we’re going to pretend we don’t know that and believe the social media myth

“You’re my sunflower,” Ezra's smooth voice brings you back to reality. 

“What?” You ask, not sure you heard him right in your trance-like state.

“You are my sunflower,” he annunciates, “or Helianthus as it’s scientifically known” he adds as if that would clear everything for you. 

If the two of you had been talking about flowers, it would make some sense, but you were simply enjoying each other's presence in silence. 

“What?” you ask again, clearly confused. 

“Well when it’s overcast and sunflowers are looking for the sun, they often face each other. Claiming each other as their own personal sun, sharing each other’s energy. You’re my sunflower, you’re who I turn to in dark times to keep me going.”

“That is… incredibly sweet,” tears brim your eyes, “Then you’re my sunflower too. What brought that up?” 

A slow smile creeps its way onto his face, the corners of his mouth lifting with love and eyes warming. 

“I was simply enjoying the view, of you. And how captivated and intoxicated I am from the sheer joy you exude. How my infatuation and devotion to you knows no bounds. You’re my life source, my light and my love.”

A cheesy smile is plastered on your face, “And so the obvious conclusion was sunflowers?”

“Perhaps sunflowers didn’t properly convey all that.”

“No it did I was ju-” but before you can finish he interrupts by continuing his thoughts.

“You’re the Acacia Tree to my ant colony,” he finishes with a proud smile.

You stare at him dumbfounded.

“Acacia trees, commonly found in South Africa and Australia, grow hollow roots, structures that allow ants to use as shelter and even feed from. In return, the ants defend the tree from herbivores. The ants larvae also feed off Beltian bodies, which are small pouches of important proteins and nutrients and in return the ants protect new acacia seedlings from being eaten by other small critters.”

“So… I’m a tree,”

“An acacia tree, yes”

“And you… are a colony of ants,”

“Mhm”

“That share a relationship,”

“A symbiotic relationship, yes”

“That share a symbiotic relationship. But why am I the tree and you the ants?”

“Easy. Because you’re a life-giving thing that is much greater than I. A beautiful great standing of Mother Nature.”

Then it dawns on you. Where Ezra is getting all this random nature information. Weeks ago while thrifting he came across a tattered nature encyclopedia, his nose was stuck in the book before he even purchased it. He returned it to the shelf claiming he did not need it but something tells you he went back…

“Did you get that encyclopedia?”

“Is it that obvious?”

You laugh, “I take it you're enjoying it”

“Thoroughly”

“And how many more métaphores do you have for us?”

Ezra looks up and cocks his head like he’s actually mentally counting them, “at least another hundred.”

You laugh again at his absurdity born of love.

“Although I don’t think I could even run out of ways to tell you I love you, my dear. And if I did then I’d learn more languages. And if I ran out of those, I’d create our own language that never runs out of ways to express my love for you.”

And you know that this man in front of you means every damn word he's just said. You can't help but wonder how you got so lucky, while he wonders the same.

Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @littlemisspascal @writer-darling  @avengetheunnatural @louderfortheback @currentobsessionrabbithole

[leam1983]

Disney Dreamlight Valley - Thoughts

It's like staring into a portal into an alternate dimension where Disney and fucking Gameloft are actually design-conscious devs in their own right, and will somehow package the Most Corporate Shit Ever with the single strongest distillation of the Life Sim formula I've seen yet.

I'm shocked, seriously. The premium elements are strictly cosmetic, the required commitment is minimal and none of the Valley's inhabitants adhere to a schedule that hampers your progression. Goofy's downed something like sixteen Adderall and cannot stop pacing up and down the central plaza, when he isn't stuck in a stumbling loop while fishing in one of the meadow's three lakes. The last I spoke with him, his shop was open and fully available by 3 AM.

Everything's accessible. Nothing's gated, except what should be gated in the context of a Life Sim, to induce a sense of progression. You've unlocked pathing tiles for the Village? You're free to cover the entire plateau in cobblestones, if that's what you want.

What the actual fuck. Coming out of Gameloft, devs who consistently paywall parts of their offered content, this feels like a Twilight Zone episode in its most positive form.

I mean - Yes, the quest-givers don't shut up and pester you for a constant downpour of menial shit that supposedly ties into reviving the Valley, but that's only if you do decide to interact with them. If you don't, you're free to spend entire days tweaking the Village's layout.

So, how different is it from Animal Crossing, exactly? Well, first of all, the whole damn thing has a Copyrighted symbol in full-view. If you're one of the staunch anti-Disney posters on here, this is a definitive mark of avoidance for you. Past that, it's basically a name-swapping affair: Tom Nook is split up between Scrooge McDuck (for personal housing needs) and Goofy (for exterior farming resources). Isabelle is more or less handled by The Sword in the Stone's Merlin, and Mickey eventually serves as your Blathers analogue. The one outlying mechanic is an Energy system, which asks you to either keep some food on you at all times to keep topping off, or that simply suggest you return home for a few seconds. Considering how most of the game will take place within walking distance from your personal plot of land, this is an extremely generous implementation of that mechanic.

If I had to dock Dreamlight any points, I'd mention the lack of obviousness of certain quests. I've reached one of the themed Realms in my current save; Realms being tiny instances themed around characters that aren't part of the House of Mouse's main stable. Take, for instance, WALL-E, from the movie of the same name. I've ended in his tiny little pocket world, and was asked to find something to repair one of his treads. I went looking and only found scrap that the game did define as quest items, but never specified what I should do with.

I'd assume this is just a matter of taking five to go check out a walkthrough online, but I really shouldn't have to do this. Even Crossing's most annoying event, like Gulliver's visits, typically include clear cues in the character's dialogue. WALL-E only spews "Directive?" at the player and disengages. Your 'toon somehow immediately grasps what's going on and realizes the robot needs repairs, but the process involved is never made clear. There's a crafting bench nearby, but no amount of fishing around got me close to anything resembling gear or tread blueprints.

Past that, color me pleasantly surprised. The farming mechanic is even more forgiving than Crossing's, the game's client-side currency is generously doled out, and the server-side token is actually not accessible in a Cash Shop!

At this point, it's sort of hard to figure out what the game is doing online. Apart from analytics, the occasional ad served in the Store page - which you can entirely miss - and the gatekeeping of Dreamlight (the currency, not the game itself) to structure player progression and avoid abuse, it behaves entirely like your average PC offering, complete with a flawless response rate on the Steam Deck and a gaggle of easy exploits accessible with a trainer. Can't pay back Scrooge's loan fast enough for your liking? Just pick a trainer producer of your choosing or hex-edit yourself a berjillion coins, and move on right ahead! No online-only bullshit as you would've expected from Disney and Gameloft!

It's a very pleasant surprise, overall. Skip it if you're allergic to remixes of When you Wish upon a Star or if Disney's older stable feels so saccharine to you that you'd rather jam sporks in your eyeballs - but it's actually a very competent Life Sim that's surprisingly lenient and pleasant. It's the most pro-consumer flex I've seen the Mouse pull off in a long time, and a great alternative if you're looking for something to fill in that Tom Nook-shaped divot in your heart, in the absence of a Nintendo Switch or a copy of New Horizons.