#I feel like it's very cathartic for her once she lets everything out

[chimchiri]

The Mane 6 all going after their go to creative activity! This was directly inspired by the MLP Art/Creative Discord server we set up, since it got me wondering what each would enjoy and share of their own.

AJ making adorable little wood creatures. Rarity obviously doing some creative sketching. Pinkie doing some art - which I imagine as falling into expressionism. Fluttershy composing melodies and songs, possibly with lyrics. Rainbow doing art as well, though pure chaos and just letting out all her emotions, going for abstract until it feels right. And finally, Twilight being a writer (she will absolutely deny writing fanfiction while being completely red faced).

Also if you'd like to join the art/creative discord server @lullabyforbears and me set up, we'd love to have you! It's fun seeing everyone's wips, ideas and just chatting. You can find the invite as well as all info in my pinned post :)

[spicycinnabun]

pt. 1 2 3 5 6 7 💐

When Steve first started working at the flower shop, he had only been helping customers and taking their orders over the phone. Their small family business had grown quicker than anticipated, and Steve’s parents had needed the extra set of hands.

The shop had been a gift to his mother. It had been something she’d always wanted, but his dad had never agreed to, until finally, he had fucked up badly enough in their relationship and had funded it out of guilt.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that it turned out to be as successful as it was. Steve’s mom, Linda, was passionate and talented. She loved flowers and celebrations of any kind and maintained a big, beautiful garden at home.

It also helped that his father and mother were socialites. They had a lot of friends to support the business, spread the word, and make it b(l)oom. They had a great location in the mall with little competition around.

For good or bad, weddings, anniversaries, sickness and death, flowers were always there.

Steve had mostly helped after school, but it became his full-time gig once he’d graduated and hadn’t gotten into college. Due to the sheer volume of orders, his mother could no longer make the arrangements alone, so she’d taught Steve everything she knew.

From watching her over the years, Steve knew how to care for the flowers. He could prep them and nurture them. The creativity that came naturally to his mother took Steve a bit of time, but he eventually realized what looked good. Usually, it was the simpler arrangements. He was good at that.

Linda was very kind in general, always giving him positive feedback and encouragement instead of criticism. Steve was lucky to have her, especially since his father was so hard on him. She loved and cared for him unconditionally. While his father constantly tried to make him feel inferior, her belief in him built him up to be the strong, confident man he now was.

When his mom had to step back even more from the business to travel abroad with his dad, Steve suggested they hire Robin. Scoops hadn't been fun for her, probably ever, and Steve had missed her since graduating.

At first, Steve didn’t think he’d like working at the shop, but like a flower, it had grown on him. He liked helping people, talking to them, and most surprisingly, he liked the flowers and what he could do with them. While he liked roses—after he removed their thorns, of course—his true favorite was sunflowers.

Working there suited him. It was simple. It let him use his hands and mind in ways he hadn’t tapped into while in school or doing sports. He enjoyed the additive and subtractive aspects of flower arranging. His favorite part was the pruning. It was almost cathartic. He loved pulling and clipping off all the unnecessary parts and making them look perfect.

It took Steve a minute to recognize the man walking around the shop.

Last month, when he was working on the big window display, Steve had seen him for the first time. Guitar case, long rocker hair, enough rings and piercings to set off a metal detector fifty miles away… but Steve remembered it most because the guy had tried to say something to him through the glass. He had left before Steve had gotten the chance to go out and ask him what he’d said.

The second time, Robin had waited on the mystery man. Steve had just caught him walking out with a dozen Black-eyed Susans while he stood there, disgruntled, in his soil-stained apron.

This time—the third time—it was late, and Robin had already clocked out for the night. Steve was sick. He was in the middle of a cold and just wanted to go home and crawl into bed. But even though he wasn’t feeling good, he knew he still had to do his job. There were flowers to be sold.

So, mustering up a charming smile, Steve approached him. "Can I help you find anything today?"

🌷🪻🌻🌹

this part written by my stevie, @batty4steddie (psst, go check out her gorgeous st gifs too) 💕

[ladykailitha]

Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 10

Just two more chapters to go and then this little story is done. I'm glad I wrote it. It was very cathartic for me. I hope it brought some comfort to you too.

Here we find out who Steve has been grieving this whole time and that Eddie mourned them too.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

****

Steve was quiet and contemplative on the trip back. And Eddie let him be. That was quite the roller coaster of emotion he had gone through and he knew Steve needed time to sort out all of his thoughts and feelings.

As they neared Ashland, Eddie asked, “Are you okay? It got pretty heavy back there.”

“Sorry,” Steve murmured.

“I wasn’t asking for forgiveness,” Eddie admonished gently. “I was asking if you were okay.”

Steve sighed. “I guess I just had so many things bottled up that it all came out in a rush.”

“So talk to me,” Eddie said softly. “I know you think you can’t talk to anyone else because they’re all younger than you. But I’m not. So spill.”

Steve let out a long shuddering breath as if he had been holding it in for years.

“It’s just there have only ever been two adults involved in the whole Upside Down shit,” Steve murmured. “Well, there have been others, but either they haven’t been trustworthy or they’ve died. And I’m not going to lie and say I’m not bitter about Mrs Byers taking her family out to California and leaving me as the remaining adult.”

“Oh shit,” Eddie said softly. He hadn’t even thought about that. “That wasn’t right. I get she was trying to get Will and El as far away from Hawkins as she could, but considering the frequency of the U.D. coming back, it does seem selfish when looked at from your point of view.”

“El wasn’t the only one grieving Hopper’s death,” Steve spat out. “Why were only her feelings taken into consideration? Why was his funeral ‘a private family’ affair instead of one benefiting a hero where the whole town could attend? Why was El the first one that got to see him? Why did it take days before anyone else was informed?”

Eddie saw a shoulder and pulled off onto it, the Bimmer crunching the gravel as it slowed to a stop.

“It must have been so hard on you,” Eddie murmured. “You mentioned back at the diner that he always looked out for you and then suddenly he was gone and no one thought to ask you if you needed time to grieve, right?”

Steve nodded. “I just felt so stupid after it was announced that he was alive, you know? Like how dare I mourn someone who hadn’t even died. But I thought that once everything settled down we would get a chance to talk, but nope. He went off to California with the Byers. They’re supposed all be back before school starts, but who knows if that’s even true.”

“Steve it isn’t stupid you grieved,” Eddie murmured. “But I bet if you told him what you’ve been feeling, he’d pretty upset that he hurt you like that.”

Tears started streaming down Steve’s face. “I just want to be loved as much I love them, is that really too much to ask for?”

Eddie unbuckled his seatbelt and pulled him in for a hug. “Of course it’s not. And I don’t doubt if you stopped to really think about it you can name at least a half a dozen people who love you as much as you love them.”

Steve let out a watery chuckle. “I could probably fill up all ten of my fingers, if I was honest to myself.”

Eddie wiped away his tears. “There you have it, big boy. But it’s okay to cry and if you feel like you need to fall apart, call me. I’ll come over with beer, weed, and bad horror films to mock until you laugh.”

Steve wiped his nose on his arm. “You promise?”

Eddie leaned back far enough to hold up his pinkie. “I pinkie promise.”

Steve hooked his finger around Eddie’s and shook on it.

“You ready to face the road again?” Eddie asked.

Steve nodded. After a moment or two of silence, he spoke up. “You remember when ‘fake’ cried for Keith?” He used his fingers around the word fake to put it into air quotes.

Eddie, who was about to pull into traffic again, cut the engine. “Holy shit. It was Hopper, wasn’t it? That’s who you were remembering.”

Steve nodded. “It’s easy to cry when thinking about him, you know?”

“Because it’s new and even though he’s not dead, you never got your resolution?”

Steve nodded again. “I just feel so selfish about the whole thing, you know. He wasn’t my dad. I wasn’t related to him in anyway. But I thought I meant something to him, you know?”

Eddie turned the car back on and eased into traffic. “I’m sure you meant a lot to him, but there could be extenuating circumstances that prevented him from expressing that. Like I said before, I bet if you told him how you felt he’d be gutted.”

Steve just shrugged.

Eddie glanced over at him and then back at the road. “You tell anyone about this and I’ll tell Dustin about the time you flirted with his mom to get the brownie recipe.”

Steve’s went wide. “That was not flirting! I was just buttering her up a bit. That’s not the same thing.”

“Oh I know that,” Eddie said with a grin. “But would Dustin know the difference?”

Steve thought about it for a moment. “You drive a hard bargain, Lord Eddie.”

Eddie giggled. “You know, sometimes I forget you like ‘Star Wars’, you just aren’t great with their titles.”

“The third one is my favorite, after all.”

Eddie cleared his throat. “So back when I was just little metalhead, dealing for the first time one of my best customers was the Chief.”

Steve blinked. “Oh wait, I think I did hear something about that. I’m surprised he wasn’t fired.”

Eddie shrugged. “He wasn’t up for re-election. Sheriffs are elected. And small town like Hawkins, change is difficult. Hop would have to straight up murder babies in town hall and smear their blood over the church walls to get people to not vote for him.”

Steve snorted. “I doubt even then. It would take him being soft on homosexuals before they ousted him.”

Eddie laughed. “You’ve got me there.”

Steve smiled at him.

“So,” Eddie continued, “the reason I bring it up is that despite what people think, I’ve never been arrested for dealing and Rick hadn’t either until Hop ‘died’.”

Steve straightened up in his seat. “What do you mean?”

“Hop always said it was better to steer Rick away from certain places because he could,” Eddie said, “then it was to arrest him and have an all out war with the new supplier.”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “That’s why Rick didn’t get arrested until Powell took over because he didn’t have the same philosophy that Hop did.”

“Right in one,” he said. “And it did get bad with people trying to fill the void he left behind. Uncle Wayne convinced to stop selling once I was out until Rick was released because I couldn’t trust the new suppliers not to cut their shit with something dangerous.”

“Holy shit, yeah,” Steve agreed. “So why are you telling me this?”

“Because Hop looked out for me, too,” Eddie said. “Especially when my old man rolled into town. He would make sure he got to the carnage first and made sure I never got a record.”

Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “That makes since I always wondered why the police or Jason never brought up your arrest record. It’s because Hop made sure you never got one.”

“So this is me saying,” Eddie finished, “I get it. I get mourning him. Because in my own way I mourned him, too. Because between Hop and Uncle Wayne they made sure I could get out of Hawkins when the time came.”

“This is exactly why I pushed for a public funeral,” Steve grumbled, sinking back into his seat and crossing his arms. “I don’t know who had the final say on that, but it makes me mad that just because they didn’t have a body people in town wouldn’t want to come see anyway. It blows.”

“Here’s that,” Eddie agreed.

Too soon they were pulling up the Nelsons’ and the sun was starting to set.

By silent agreement they both got out of the car and sat on Steve’s hood to watch the sunset in a beautiful array of blues and purples until the sky darkened and the stars came out.

“Thank you for today,” Steve murmured. “For all of it. Getting me out here, taking me to my grandmother’s grave, sitting with me when I talked to Uncle Percy. Helping me with my grief even though yours is far more fresh and painful than mine.”

“Grief is grief, Stevie,” Eddie murmured. “You don’t get to decide when it heals over. You were there for me when my dad showed up, so I was more than happy to return the favor with your family.”

“Thanks, man,” Steve said.

“So...” Eddie said. “You want to tell me why you and your uncle weren’t keen to let your other uncle see you?”

Steve snorted. “He’s the one that was the most against my mom getting any kind of inheritance. He didn’t think she should have gotten anything because she was a girl child. He kept saying that she got her money in the form of the lavish wedding she had when she married my dad.”

He ran his fingers through his hair.

“He’s sued her at least three times that I know of. If he had seen me he would have started screaming about how my mom didn’t deserve that money and that I was just as complicit in its ‘theft’ as she was.”

“But he got the house or whatever it was, right?” Eddie asked.

He nodded. “Yeah and the two acres of land it sits on. If he were to sell it would go for at least a few million, easy.”

“I’ll bet,” Eddie said, whistling long and low. “Which means Percy got the business?”

“Which another thing that upset Uncle Jasper,” Steve said. “But Uncle Percy is the oldest and had the best business sense, but he can’t let it go that he thinks his siblings got the better deal.”

“I heard this quote once about how some people are content in life, but that others just can’t be. That they will always seek more. Nothing will ever be enough.”

“Uncle Jasper is definitely one of those.”

Penny poked her head out the front door. “Come on in, boys, it’s really getting late.”

Eddie and Steve stood up and walked back into the house, feeling lighter then they had since before March.

****

Pt 11|Pt 12

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @vecnuthy @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @gutterflower77 @genderless-spoon @hel-spawn @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mamafaithful @yikes-a-bee @dragonmama76 @flaming-reauxster @r0binscript @awkotaco24 @ilikeititspretty

[wangxianficrecs]

💙 Hold on to the reason that you stayed by tawaen

💙 Hold on to the reason that you stayed

by tawaen

M, Series, WIP, 62k, Wangxian

Summary: Once, Wen Qing vowed to preserve the lives of others, to rescue all living beings from their sufferings. It's a pity the Jin sect killed her. Now, no vows restrain her. (Two years after her death, the ghost of Wen Qing flees Golden Carp Tower with her brother. They accidentally kidnap Mo Xuanyu on the way out. Then, they set about collecting the scraps of Wei Wuxian's shattered soul.) Kay's comments: This series absolutely gutted me. Like, the end of the main story actually left in tears and it's been a while since I cried over fanfiction. Absolutely loved it, 10/10, would recommend, very cathartic. I loved Wen Qing's POV in the main story, how her anger and her thirst for revenge transformed the story and the cultivation society at large. Everything about this felt very satisfying and I loved how certain minor characters got second chances (via kidnapping) as well. Resentful ghost Wen Qing and martial god Wei Wuxian is such an awesome combination as well and Wangxian in this story were very adorable as well. Excerpt: She uses memories of her family as a bulwark against influence from the tormented yin energy. She needs this energy to become hers... If she fails here, A-Ning will be destroyed. Her family will never be given a proper burial. They will suffer eternally, trapped in the blood pool at the Burial Mounds and left out of the cycle of reincarnation forever. The people responsible will escape their karma. The resentment tries to crush her, wants to influence her and consumer her power, but Wen Qing has an anchor – Wen Ning's eyes widen slightly, and he reaches out to her. Pupils have returned to his eyes. “A-jie...” Her brother is finally conscious. Wen Qing will not fail him, not ever again. She pulls, letting her own will clash against the sentient portions of the power. They have suffered longer, but her resentment is fresh and fully remembered. She is not a fragment. She will not lose herself to them. The spirits go dormant – Wen Qing absorbed all the resentment fueling them. Her hand closes around Wen Ning's. “A-Ning.” She reaches out and brushes his hair out of his face with her other hand. She can actually feel the strands under her fingers. She no longer lingers as an incorporeal apparition, full as she is with resentful energy. “I missed you so much... But we need to leave quickly.” He leans into her touch briefly before nodding and pulling away. As she turns to grab a bag from one of the shelves so she can stow away the shattered pieces of the Yin Tiger Tally, Wen Ning gasps. Which is nearly impossible, since he doesn't breathe. When she looks back, she also releases a gasping sound. Hovering over the broken shards of the Tally, a nearly transparent image of Wei Wuxian flickers. His eyes glow red, as his ghostly image lifts an image of the fully completed Yin Tiger Tally, but then he disappears back to a flicker of ghost flame, fading.

pov wen qing, pov nie huaisang, canon divergence, thirteen years of wei wuxian's death, ghost wen qing, ghost general wen ning, mo xuanyu lives, rebirth, yiling wei sect, eventual lan wangji/wei wuxian, pov outsider, families of choice, cultivation sect politics, wen remnants deserve better, martial god wei wuxian, jiang family dynamics, golden core reveal, revenge

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

M6 after seeing a sad play/reading a sad book?

The Arcana HCs: M6 when MC cries over a sad story

~ I hope you don't mind my take on the prompt, anon, but I couldn't pass up the chance to have the M6 comfort a sad fiction-loving MC. This is for anyone who's read a reversed ending XD enjoy! - brainrot ~

Julian

Initially thrown into a slight panic. You're crying. Are you hurt? Where does it hurt? Tell him, he wants to help fix it!

Once he knows the tears are from emotional pain, his priority is on comforting you. Immediately pulls you into his chest and gives you one of his famous hugs

But also, why are you crying? Is the story really that gut-wrenching?

Morbidly intrigued, because it seems like a strangely cathartic way to wallow in grief and despair that doesn't involve drinking himself under the table, all alone in the corner of the Rowdy Raven while Barth counts his drinks and looks annoyingly concerned for him

Hesitantly asks if he could read it too

Devours the entire thing in one sitting, somehow gets even more invested than you do and turns into a sniffling mess when the angst hits. It hurts so good, and not even in the way he's used to!

Somehow listening to him wax poetic about the tragedy of the characters makes your own pain feel a little sweeter

Now you've got him in your arms while he works out his feelings, and you two are definitely doing this again, this is amazing

Asra

Drops everything as soon as they hear the first sniffles from your direction

He can tell from your bond that you're experiencing some serious grief, and he's so sweetly worried about you that he's not asking any questions, he's just curling up with you and wiping your tears

They do piece it together after a few minutes though - either by noticing the story in your hands or because you straight up told them

So relieved when he finds out it was just a story (he was starting to worry that somebody had died) that he starts to laugh

Which of course lands them in so much hot water, because it's not just a story, those characters were real in your heart and they won't stop giggling while they pet you and seriously Asra, it's not funny while you struggle not to join in

You both know that he hasn't actually done anything wrong, but he still feels bad for laughing so he tries to earn your forgiveness by cheering you up

Dropping little trinkets in your lap, telling you the cheesiest jokes, tickling you with kisses until they see that smile again and all is right with the world

Nadia

Goes straight into problem-solving mode as soon as she sees your tear-streaked face

Something's happened to hurt you. What is it?

Will not take silence for an answer, she'll treat you gently but she won't let up until you tell her why you're crying (even if you feel a little foolish about it - she takes you very seriously)

And it's because she takes you so seriously that she's very torn on how to react when the truth comes out: you read a sad story

It's cuteness overload for her. It doesn't matter how pretty or ugly of a crier you are, the sheer amount of empathy you're displaying right now is going straight to her heart and she is struggling

Will pull you straight into her chest to cuddle you and let you cry it out so you can't see the amused grin on her face

She is biting her lip to keep from fawning over you, because the last thing she wants to do is to make you feel small or foolish but oh my goodness you're adorable like this and it's taking all of her self restraint not to squeeze you to death right now

If there are suddenly more tragedies lying around in the library, no there aren't

Muriel

Very concerned

It doesn't matter to him how big or small the issue is that's causing you so much pain, you're clearly hurting and he's sad to see it

Will approach you very gently and quietly ask if there's anything he can do to help you feel better, or if you just want some space for a while to process whatever it is that's making you cry

Perfectly fine with letting you snuggle up to him. Hey, he has a whole big cloak that makes for excellent tear-wiping material

He's the kind of guy who will sit quietly and give you the most nonjudgmental attention, for as long as you need it to feel seen and heard and validated

Cue you breaking down and giving him the most teary, disjointed version of the story you've read while his big, calloused thumbs brush away whatever's left of your tears

Because there was this character, right? And you really, really liked him, ok? And then this terrible thing happened, and it sounds pretty bad, but when you add the backstory to it it only gets worse -

He's having a little difficulty following you, but he's listening to you and he's holding you and he's definitely hiding that book

Portia

Oh, you found a tear-jerker

She's read a few of those. You should have seen her back when she was practicing her reading while Nadia was in a coma, she had this tragedy phase and went through so many handkerchiefs

Easily the best-prepared for this. She knows how cathartic it is to cry it out, so she sets you up on her sofa with some tea and snacks and a fluffy blanket and the cat until you feel better

Now that you've recovered, and she's buttered you up ...

Tell her which book it was

Because she's read so many at this point, and she's halfway hoping it's one that she knows so she can commiserate with you and gush over the characters

And if it's one that she hasn't read yet, she still wants to know because it's been way too long since she's read something that really tugged at her heart strings and she misses the angst!

Either way, now that she knows you enjoy that she's starting a book club with you

Fictional angst sessions are so much livelier when she's sitting across from you, punching a throw pillow while she rants

Lucio

Upset on your behalf as soon as he sees your state. Why is his MC crying? Nobody makes his MC cry!

He's a little disheartened when you tell him it was just a story you read and the ending was sadder than you expected it to be and now you just need to cry about it a little

Wraps his cloak around you first and then both his arms (he doesn't want the cold metal to shock or pinch you) and asks what happened. What went wrong? Who did this to you, MC? Who does he need to fight?

Takes a moment to offer you a manly shoulder to cry on while he tries to figure out his next move

Can he read? Yes. Does he spend a lot of time reading? Not really. Can he relate to what you're going through right now? Nope

Starts listing off suggestions for how he can make you feel better. Do you want to pet the dogs? Do some magic? Eat some food?

Spots the book you were reading at one point and grabs it right out of your hands. He would shred it if you didn't ask him to be careful with it, so he settles for scolding the inanimate object that made you cry

Very self-satisfied at the giggle that gets out of you

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Careless Words

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x nameless female character (third person perspective) Warnings: Angst. Toxic/abusive relationship dynamics. Mentions of death. Allusions to smut. Word count: tbc

Summary: She has always given her best to Aemond, but they both know he can't say the same. Based on this request. Author's note: I wanted to explore the darker side of Aemond's personality and how this might manifest itself in a relationship where neither party is particularly healthy in terms of their mindset. This was a cathartic piece for me to write. Lately I've been working through some resurfaced feelings linked to a past relationship that was based entirely around trauma bonding. It may be a triggering read for some, so please approach with caution (and try to remember the story itself is a work of fiction).

Full story coming soon. Snippet below the cut.

She knows she is fighting a losing battle before she even opens her mouth to speak, yet she cannot help herself. She is a moth and Aemond is her flame, ever bright and eternal, the very center around which her entire world revolves. Nothing has ever seemed so final though, what pieces will there be to pick up and place back together once he is someone else’s husband?

Standing before him, she juts out her chin defiantly, willing herself not to cry in spite of the lump in her throat and the insistent stinging around the rims of her eyes. “You’re really going to go through with this?”

He sets his jaw, sighing, a visible dismissal of her feelings that makes her ache and wish she had the courage to simply walk away from him. “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”

“What will become of me, of us?” She asks, her voice raising an octave, threatening to crack.

“That is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. My brother’s succession takes precedence over everything. Marrying one of Lord Baratheon’s daughters helps strengthen his claim to the throne. Listening to your heedless fretting does not.”

She feels heat rise to her cheeks, swallowing back her anguish, attempting to sound fiercer than she feels. “Perhaps I shall decide to marry too then.”

Aemond’s scoff is so subtle it’s almost imperceptible. “Who would marry you? Your virtue is mine, always has been. You’re fortunate I still desire you.”

His tone of voice is so practical, only the slightest hint of irritation giving it an edge. He may as well be addressing a chambermaid who has not made his bed to his liking. She longs to grab him, shake him, beg him to give her any sort of indication that this is hurting him as much as it’s hurting her, because to think that he’d let her go so easily, after all these years, is more than she can stand.

Instead she says nothing, simply watches as he turns to leave, counting down the moments until he returns to her, his words sweet once more and eager to heal the rift between them, just like he always does. She craves the storm and the calm in equal measure, but they are always on Aemond’s terms, never hers.

[kairiscorner]

So I don’t know how to do requests😭

But I want to request some Oikawa or sugawara angst, like really angsty, school au! Where the reader and Oikawa or suga are is her best friend, but she also has another girl best friend, who knows that reader has feelings for them but stills goes and confesses to him even though she doesn’t like him just because she was jealous or something and like I don’t want a happy ending low-key hehehehe

I’m sorry I don’t know how to explain it honestly🥹

HELLO, ok so i hope i understood your req correctly, because MMMMMMM i also want this to hurt ... I HOPE YOU LIKE IT, AND IMMA MAKE AN OIKAWA VER JS BC 💓💓💓

“i love you... but you're not mine.”

🌼 (sugawara koushi ver.)

you used to love how he smiled, it was like every room he entered would light up and get a little warmer, a little more comfortable; like everything felt okay now that he was here, now that he was smiling and telling everyone that what they're doing is enough. it was hard for you to feel enough on some days, it was even harder for you to cope with the fact that you saw some undesirable traits about you–and yet, sugawara never let you go one day without feeling like you're the prettiest person in the world–and to him, you really were.

"come on now..." he'd whisper to you in a soft, loving tone and extend his hands out to you–his calloused hands that always stung after a practice match, those tirelessly doting hands that never stopped to reach out to you and offer to help you, to comfort you, to be there in any time of your need. he'd crouch down to your level and look at you with the sweetest eyes you've ever seen; he takes your hands in his so gently, and he holds you.

his touch is light, though you can feel him squeezing you every now and then. the best feeling sugawara has ever experienced is that cathartic wave washing away some of the sadness, self-deprecation, loneliness, and other negative feelings or fears you've got plaguing you at the moment. "...you're perfect just the way you are." he muttered as he ran the pads of his fingers across the back of your hands. "i know it's hard, but... i'll help you learn to love yourself; i already know you're really lovable to me, to the rest of the team, once you realize how amazing you are on your own... i hope you'll never wish you were anyone else anymore, because you're already amazing as yourself." he gushed with a comforting voice.

well, that was the most sugarcoated lie you've ever been told.

how could you not wish to be anyone else... if your bestfriend beat you to confessing to him? beat you to being his partner...?

how could you not wish to be anyone else but his?

you wished this was a sick joke, that your close friend–whom you always confided in that you liked sugawara, that you enjoyed being with him, that you felt happiest with him–that you... loved sugawara–had confessed to him out of the blue, on the very day you were going to confess to him.

it seems that they beat you to it, and the worst part is...

sugawara loved them back.

you stood there by the doors of the gym, your hands empty after you unknowingly dropped the treats you made for him and the letter you wrote that had all your love for him written out in words you could never have pictured yourself writing down to anyone before–

–all to have your bestfriend steal him away from you.

when he cried tears of joy that the object of his affections reciprocated his love... you cried tears of melancholy at the boy you loved most being taken away from you right before your very eyes.

"hey... remember, you don't have to be someone else to be loved–i love you for who you are, inside and out." he reminded you with a wide, happy grin as he held your hands in his–his right wrist donning the bracelet your bestfriend–his partner–made for the two of them; they matched... and it hurt badly to think about how cute and happy he seemed with them.

sure, he loved you, you could tell that much...

...but only as a friend.

[sahaias]

Soy Luna Season 2 Episodes 1-30 Thoughts

Okay, so I've been going through season 2 much slower than season 1 because my free time is limited and things move super fast on my days off from work.

But beginning with my thoughts on this season and its plot points so far:

It's so fucked up that Sharon is faking Ambar's past just to preserve a fortune that isn't rightfully hers. Lili and Bernie didn't die so they could leave everything to their sister/sister-in-law, it belongs to their daughter

It feels like Simon's really been on the backburner this season so far, and I miss seeing more of him.

This also applies to most of the side characters, but I don't care about them as much lol.

I noticed Luna has more one-on-one scenes with her mom than dad this season, and I feel like it's the writers trying to make up for her confiding in her dad rather than her mom like 4/5 times more in season 1.

Adrenaline is pretentious with their "we don't show up to competitions or put limits on our art like this", and I don't get why Ramiro likes Fernanda so much. I do find it funny that Ramiro starts shitting on Matteo once he joins though, it's cathartic

I know they want us to feel bad about Matteo's whole "I can't let Luna get close to me because I am leaving soon" shtick, but it's not romantic or cute. It is just stupid. Luna would be understanding if Matteo gave the whole truth. Plus, it would be much easier on her than all the lies that he creates.

Nina and Gaston are very cute, but I am worried for them with this Oxford storyline. I wish we got more scenes of them though. It feels like their only big moment was singing together.

Ambar has been clearly messed up by Sharon, because despite knowing her alleged past that fills in all of the gaps, she still feels the need to compete with Luna and make her miserable. I just feel bad for her and am dreading how she'll respond once the truth about Luna comes out.

This twins storyline is already a headache, and I am dreading seeing what it'll progress into.

Pedro looks younger with longer hair, but I think he looked better with the shorter hair in season 1

Juliana is so extra and the way she just insults people for not meeting her standards is annoying as fuck. She has very exaggerated physical gestures that make it very bothersome to look at the screen when she is on it.

I feel like this season has more drama and less excitement in it overall, which makes me less motivated to watch. I attribute this to less Simon tbh

I like the main plot/secrets of Soy Luna more than Violetta, and the show feels more grounded than Violetta. However, the side characters and romantic pairings in Violetta are way more captivating. I am hoping upcoming plotlines are more engaging tbh.

Sebastian is such a weird recurring character, and him being an actual youtuber makes him feel more weird to me for some reason

Ending this post with the fact that when I first saw Matteo in a wig imitating Luna, I was drinking water and ended up choking on it from laughing hysterically

[skyfallscotland]

I would love to hear more about your writing style and how you plan the over arching storyline. You’ve mentioned that you don’t write linearly, so how do you keep everything straight?

Do you have a cohesive idea of the big picture, or is it more of a bunch of scenes bouncing around that you need to find a way to weave together? How do you know what is chapter 18 versus chapter 10 versus chapter 4? I’ve also seen you mention that Remi is high functioning autistic, and you’ve tagged a few things as nuro spicy. I gather that a lot of your writing is deeply reflective of your own lived experiences and now I’m wondering how Remi’s going to manage relearning history if her author likes to jump around this much!

in any case, thank you again for blessing us with this work - I’m going on vacation next week and am very excited to do my first reread!

So basically I'll have an overarching idea and some scenes in my head already and then everything else will just happen as I go.

So for T&T I know

what I want to do with the Varrish situation

what I want to do at Tecarus' place

what I want to do with Melgren/Samara/the final battle

and how I want their relationship to go

how it's going to end

So there's a few pivotal scenes in my head already and then there's things like

how Papa Sorrengail died

how Lilith really feels about Remi

how Violet will react to her sister this time around

how Remi will react to RSC

and I basically just try and weave them all together as I go. I keep notes in my phone in a linear-fashion and if I think of something I'll slot it into the 'timeline' but in saying I write non-linearly, it's more like...I get demand avoidance, right? So if I'm up to RSC but my brain just doesn't want to initiate, instead of screeching to a halt, I'll write for example a scene regarding Papa Sorrengail's death, put it to the side and come back to it later and fit it in somewhere.

So when I say 10 vs 18 vs 4, it's like, I've actually written up to 18, I have 18 chapters, but my brain might later go oh wait, you want this in here, and then I have to go back and change things or weave things in, so while I have 18 chapters, 4 could then become 5 and push each one along so I have 19. I hope that makes sense?

I tend to write more of a character/emotion driven story so that definitely helps because I'm really just weaving a little plot around all the feels.

Remi is very, very deeply reflective of me and my lived experiences, more than any other FMC I've ever written. I think every writer puts pieces of themselves in their work, but Remi in particular I put so much of my soul into. Fear & Flame was a very cathartic experience, I wrote it for me and I was honestly surprised so many people liked it. I almost didn't post it at all.

I've always felt like Remi. It was only once I learned that I could be on the spectrum that I started figuring out why I am the way I am and do the things I do, and also, really, why most people don't like me. And that's not like, me feeling sorry for myself, it's just a fact, most people don't. It's why it feels kind of special whenever someone tells me they see themselves in her.

Because Remi is so logical, she's just pushing everything to the side and going 'ok, this is what I know is true because I've seen it with my own eyes' and working from there. Honestly in T&T part one, she's a little too busy to even think about it, but she's definitely asking questions. I think it's this, that separates her so much from Violet. She won't let things go and she will ask whatever questions pop into her head a lot of the time (which is tough because we don't have too much history/lore to work with).

Honoured to be your vacation reading! Haha, I hope you have a nice time! 🖤

[xain-russell]

Imma gush about the ending of GoW Ragnarok in specifics actually. Long rambling ahead.

Kratos honoring his promise to Freya and letting her decide what they do with the man who robbed her of everything and abused her for years is so good. Also the fact that Freya got to literally strangle Odin while he continued to fail and try to manipulate her with words of love was just *chef’s kiss* beautiful. All the same, I’m glad she decided that the humiliation and breaking was enough for her. Odin was effectively dead, she didn’t need to torment his soul or anything once she beat him and made sure he could never hurt anyone like he hurt her ever again.

All the same, Sindri coming in and smashing the soul marble with Odin trapped inside felt really cathartic. It’s just a shame all that hate and rage Sindri has didn’t seem to die after the fight ended. That dead look he had, even after Brok’s funeral, and refusal to let anyone so much as comfort him, is gonna haunt me for days. If anyone got completely shafted in this story, it was Sindri, and I hope there’s some closure to be had with him in the post game, but it’d be a poignant ending to his and Brok’s story if this was where it ended.

Thor and his family were an interesting tale. I loved Thrúd, hope she gets to be an actual Valkyrie. Thought I’d hate Sif but she turned out to be cool in the end. Thor though? It’s really hard to watch the broken man that Odin turned his son into. Thor is just there to be the big dumb drunk hammer that Odin swings around and it’s heartbreaking to see him choose not to stand up to his father and lets himself turn back into a drunkard. That scene where Thrúd and Atreus drag Thor out of the bar and she gives her dad a chewing out was the moment I hoped he would turn around and become the man who could be a protector. But alas, it isn’t until the very end that he finds his strength and Odin kills him for it.

Odin is a piece of shit. I’ve known people who use kindness to lure people into giving them what they want and then turning into an abusive monster when people don’t or can’t give anything. It’s cruel, and every scene with him had me on edge, wanting to stay far away from him. I’m glad he died begging for mercy, pitifully denying that he was the cause of all the misery surrounding him. And even after the three protagonists agree that destroying Odin’s soul was unnecessary, I’m glad that Sindri got the final say, and no one judged him for taking his vengeance.

Atreus is such a gentle and compassionate kid, and I’m glad he grew into fully committing himself to that compassion. I’m sad that he elected to leave at the end, but that confident and kind smile he gave to Kratos made me feel like, yeah, he IS ready. I hope we see him again. Maybe ad the protagonist of the next series of games?

Kratos getting a shrine where he’s shown to be a god that is loved and respected was the point where I started sobbing. After everything, all the pain of his upbringing, his years as an unstoppable and cruel olympian god, and his new life in the north and growth as a father, Kratos finally finds his own equilibrium, and gets the assurance that he can be a good god. I’m happy for him. I truly am.

[intubatedangel]

Awakening : Chapter 1

I know I said I was taking a break from Anna and Carl, but during the writing of Code Red this was always in my head. Between Valentines Day coming up, and the cathartic need to kinda vent some my own experiences, and the love so many of you showed for Anna’s story, I couldn’t resist. There’ll only be one more chapter on this one. My original plan was for it to be a one-shot, but as always, it got a bit out of hand and I doubt I’d have it ready for V day, so it’s going to be two chapters, one now, one soon, hopefully next week. As always, I hope you enjoy.

Story Index  

Required Reading - Code Red

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 (Conclusion)

* * *

Wrong.

It wasn't even a feeling, let alone a thought. It was barely even a sensation.

It was the first thing she was aware of, before she was even aware of her own name, of even the very concept of her. It was like being a new-born. The was no point of reference, no experience to compare it to. It was just...

Wrong.

Slowly it faded away, as did existence.

* * *

Awareness crept up again. There was more to it this time. She had a sense of self at least, though who that self was... it was beyond her at the moment. It wasn't entirely a good thing either.

Cold.

That was the biggest sensation. Literally everything was cold. From the tips of her toes to the top of her head. Her whole body, as she realised she actually had a body, was enveloped in an icy chill. The recognition of her body led to something worse.

Pain.

As soon as she felt it, the cold became background noise. Her chest and abdomen burned with white hot flares of sheer agony. It was the most painful sensation she had ever felt. Which didn't mean much, when your apparent existence could only be measured in moments.

Am... Amne... Something meaning memory loss.

That was actually a proper thought. She had no idea where it came from. But it made sense. It explained why everything felt so utterly new and horrifying. It didn't explain what had happened to her memories, or why she was feeling these particular sensations.

It was like something was just beyond her reach, some sort of understanding. But before she could grasp it, her awareness started to dwindle away once more.

* * *

Still cold, still hurting.

Not the most pleasant of circumstances to wake up too. Not that she was actually awake. She was ... something.

Vegetative state. Some distant part of her mind supplied.

Caused by...? She questioned. Frustratingly, she didn't get a response. It was like a dodgy phone call, with the reception dropping out. Which in itself was maddening. Phone call? Reception? What were those? The words she apparently knew, but she just couldn't nail down specifics.

Yet the metaphor also made perfect sense to her.

Let's start over. She deliberately thought. What do I have to work with?

The cold and the pain gave her a sense of her body. She tried to use it. Open her eyes, move a hand, wiggle her toes. But she felt absolutely no response. She sent the message, but it wasn't received.

Paralytics. Again, that far off aspect interjected, cutting off before she could even ask it elaborate. She almost expected a crackling hiss.

How about something simple? Who am I?

As soon as she posed it, she realised what a phenomenally complex question that was. Impressions bounced off her consciousness. As limited as that was, all she got was snatches. It was better than nothing.

Well clearly I'm good at irony. First I can't remember the term for memory loss, then my simple starting question is one of unrivalled metaphysical complexity. And what the fuck does THAT even mean!?

Let's try this one more time. She thought again, after quelling the frustration. What is my name?

More impressions flickered through her mind, but slower. The one that struck her the most was a piece of paper. Widely spaced lines. Grey pencilled letters in a rough, child's scrawl.

AnnA SwiFT.

She felt a wave of emotions. Excitement and loving encouragement. Someone gathering her tiny form up in their arms and giving her a hug. "Yay, you did it! That's your name see, all written out in letters!"

The memory stunned her. Mummy? She thought after it as her focus broke, and it drifted away.

It took her ... some amount of time, she had no way to tell, to pull herself back together.

Okay, my name is Anna Swift. We have a starting poi... oh     for       god's            sake!

She faded out again.

* * *

Bleep...Bleep...Bleep..Bong..Bleep...Deoo...Bleep...Bong...DootDootDoot...Bleep...Bleep...

Damn, all that noise was irritating.

Wait. She thought. Noise. I can hear.

Woosh...Hiss.

That noise was joined by pain, searing through her ribs as she took a breath.

No. I didn't breathe. Something forced a breath into me. The correct word for it escaped her. What the hell happened?

She tried to reach for memories again, but they were fuzzy and indistinct. They were there though, even if she couldn't quite take a hold of them right now. The cold and pain were still present, they seemed, lesser, than before though. Whether they had actually grown weaker, or if she had just become used to them, she couldn't tell.

With a great deal of effort, she managed to tune out the various irritating noises. Beneath it all there was a humming, rising and falling, warbling...

Not humming. Voices.

As soon as the thought coalesced, so too did the voices.

"... Stelling actually called it. Then just after pronouncing her, she went back into Vfib! One more shock and they got ROSC."

"Do they think she'll still be....her?"

There was a quiet moment that lasted suspiciously as long as a shrug. "It's too early to tell. She was down for over 30 minutes. She isn't brain dead, but..." Another shrug. "We've all seen how little might be left."

No, no, no. I'm here. She wished she could speak. Tell them she could hear them. But her body was... effectively a prop. A lifeless hunk of meat that refused to listen to her. Is that what they meant?

The words locked in shot to her from that distant part of her mind. She couldn't grasp the full meaning, but it filled her with abject terror.

"It’s only been 50 hours and she's hopped up on all these drugs. Maybe we can have hope. She's chalked up one miracle already. She might have another in her."

"I hope so." There was a sigh. "We'd better let him in before he breaks down the door."

Him? Who is him?

She got more flashes, again too fast to process. She noticed they all had one emotion in common. Love.

* * *

Carl knew there was no chance of getting back to sleep. The last two days had been nothing but a haze. Most of his time had been spent in the ICU, right by her side, or here, getting snatches of rest. He sat up, noticing he was still fully clothed. It was the same set of clothes that Roger had handed to him on that morning, nearly two days before. As if on cue, the bedroom door cracked open.

Roger looked at him, cocking his head slightly. Neither spoke for a stretching moment, yet communication flowed. The nurse sighed. "Take a shower. I'll make some breakfast." He said, before closing the door.

It was a struggle, both to simply move on the one hand, and to not sprint back towards her bedside on the other. With an effort of will that astounded him, he managed to make his way into the ensuite, and into the shower. Standing under the water, it started to gnaw at him.

He should be there with her.

Sat next to her when she woke up.

When. Not if. He simply could not allow the concept of if to exist. He finally noticed the locket and chain wrapped in his hand. He ran it between his fingers, cleaning the blood off it, unsure if it was water or tears splashing on the gleaming metal.

He dried and dressed himself on autopilot. One moment he was under the shower, the next he was striding towards the apartment door. He was only brought up short when Roger stepped into his way.

"You need to eat something." The nurse said, his voice as hard granite. He stood there as Carl dragged his eye towards him. Roger didn't yield. "What will she think? If she wakes up to a shadow of the man she loves?" Roger waited until Carl finally nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. "Besides, my bacon and eggs... only a fool refuses them."

The first bite was mechanical, food on fork, fork into mouth, chew, chew, chew. Then flavour exploded, dragging Carl back into some semblance of reality, instead of the zombie he realised he'd been.

"Told ya." Was all Roger said, as the pair consumed the early breakfast.

The sun was only grazing the horizon as Roger drove them to the hospital. The streetlights were still blazing, lighting the front of the car in shifting waves. Even though Carl had properly awakened, they didn't talk. What could you say, on the way back to not only where she was, but where it had happened in the first place.

* * *

They stepped into the hospital, walking into the hub of A&E. Technically they should have used the more general entrance, as visitors. It was somewhat ironic, but despite working there, they didn't really know which way to go from the normal entrance. From A&E, the ICU was directly upstairs.

A few steps through the door, Carl stopped walking. He didn't know if it had been there yesterday. Yesterday there could have been a twelve-foot clown and an entire symphony orchestra, and he wouldn't have noticed. His head was clearer now, thanks to Roger's breakfast. A table had been set up against a wall. It was overflowing with colourful flowers and an expanse of cards. He took slow, tentative steps towards it. It could have been a memorial. It still might become one.

He picked a card at random. We're all rooting for you Anna. You can win this. Beneath was a score of names. It took him a moment before realising it was from the radiology department. Another card was from a patient they'd had a month ago. A third was from the local police station. There were dozens more. Individuals and organisations. The fire department. Ambulance station. And so many former patients.

Carl felt the tears stinging his eyes. She'd touched so many lives. Yet, none more than his.

He didn't notice her until Trish stepped up beside him and pulled him into a hug. He didn't know which one of them needed it more. Trish and Anna were so alike in personality, that he didn't need to wonder how she was still working. Anna would have done the same, had their positions been switched. He also knew Anna would have needed that hug too. Trish finally let him go, switching to Roger. Carl glanced back at Roger but the nurse, his actual genuine friend, he realised, simply nodded towards the elevator.

He leaned against the wall of the box as it carried him up towards the ICU. Trying to hold himself together. He needed to, for her. It was a long ride, despite only taking him up 4 floors. The elevators were designed to be gentle, when dealing with critical patients, you could never be too careful. It was still agonising.

Finally, the door opened and he stepped out, walking up to the doors of the ICU. He swiped his ID badge on the RFID sensor. ICU visiting hours were weird. Patients were often that critical that having set hours didn't make much sense. Usually though, you needed a nurse or patient advocate to accompany them. He went in alone. No one had stopped him yet.

He knew where she was and headed directly there, passing the rows of beds. There was only a few individual rooms in their ICU, for the most critical patients or for those where other circumstances were involved. Being a member of staff helped, but the key factor was that her attacker was still in the building. He wouldn't be walking for a long time, and there was a 24-hour police presence on his door. And she was among the most critical of patients in the ICU, he was reminded, when he saw her through the window.

Before he could go much further, someone stood up from a chair and stepped into his path. It was Dr. Matthew Thompson, one of the consultant neurologists.

"Carl, could we have a quick chat?" He said.

* * *

Carl looked at him, apprehensive. Surely he wasn’t about to tell him that she was too far gone, or that something had happened. Thompson held up a placating hand.

"Just relax, if anything, the signs are encouraging, but we still need to talk." Thompson guided him to the window but set himself between Carl and the door. "So, as you know we've been periodically easing back on the sedation to observe for any improvement in brain function. Up til now, there's been only minor changes. But we did it again just now." Thompson made sure Carl was following, and gave him the smallest of nods and the slightest of smiles. "The EEG readings ramped up, especially to audio triggers. It's a really good sign. We're confident that she'll wake, but..."

The smile faltered; the nodding stilled. "You need to be prepared for possible problems. She suffered a significant and widespread hypoxic injury. She will wake up. But she might not be the Anna you once knew." Thompson sighed at looked down at his feet. "Her personality might be altered. Amnesia is a strong possibility, especially short term, but potentially long term too. And... and so far we have no idea about the state of her motor function, or her speech capability."

"So what? I'll be there for her, every step of the way." Carl replied, hearing an edge in his voice.

Thompson chewed his lip and looked away. He'd seen so many people give the same reaction to such news. He would be surprised if even 30% of the people who told him that actually stuck to it. "I need to level with you Carl, professional to professional. And please listen to me. You need to be prepared for the possibility that when she wakes up... She might not be your Anna anymore, and she may require 24/7 care. I know you love her and as soon as I can tell you anything better, I promise I will, but you need to be aware of how serious this might be."

"I am well aware of how serious this might be." Carl reflected back, his voice on the very cusp of turning venomous. "I'll push her wheelchair if she needs it. I'll dress her, I'll learn any method she needs to communicate. I'll change diapers and feeding tubes if that's necessary. The only way I will ever" he let that word come out with a hiss, "leave her, is if she no longer wants me around."

Thompson stared at him for a long stretching moment. Then he finally nodded. "Alright. Alright." Carl started to move past him to the door, but Thompson sidestepped into his path. "At least give our nurses a minute, OK? As you have made abundantly clear, you know plenty from working here, that includes procedure."

Carl felt his jaw clench, but finally nodded, settling for gazing through the window as the nurses finished up their tasks of cleaning and repositioning Anna's limp body.

* * *

The ICU nurses finally left Anna's room, letting him in with sympathetic smiles. He knew by now that one of them would be waiting on a stool by the window. Constant observation meant just that, but they would at least give him audible privacy.

He slowly approached her bed, taking in the sight of her. She was still wrapped in the cooling vest, wires and tubes sprouting out beside her neck running to various monitors and pumps. She still looked a mess. But she had so much more colour than she did two days ago. Her lips, what he could see behind the ET tube holder, were a little pale, but only cooling vest pale. Not cooling vest and hypovolemic pale. She looked alive. Before he sat down he reached up and gently swept a few stray strands of hair off her forehead, behind her ear.

He sat down in the chair, not even needing to move it into place, the nurses had placed it back in the same spot it had occupied for most of the last two days. He slid his hand into the cuff of the vest, taking her hand in his.

"Your parents are on the way. They'll be here this afternoon. They really wanted to get here sooner but.. well, you probably know more about your mum's boss than I do." He smiled up at her head, despite her closed eyes and stillness. "They trusted me to take care of you. I...I haven't even properly met them, and they trusted me, because of you." He chuckled a little, then sighed.

I had become almost a ritual, the last few days. "I'm sorry. I lied to you." He pulled out the small box, easing her hand slightly out of the vest, settling the box half in his hand, half in hers. "My grandfather did leave me a trust. But it didn't need managed. He left me a trust to use for three things. Education, a home, and a ring." He looked up at her face just like he had the last two times. He spoke, with every ounce of truth and strength he had. "So please. Anna. Please wake up, so I can put it on your finger."

* * *

The tones of the voice that spoke to her next made her pay attention. They felt so close to ... something ... the impressions from the distant part of her mind were reaching out, but it just didn't quite match. Yet her mind supplied her with a memory of secondary school physics. Resonance. The right tone would make everything fall into a pattern, but if it was even just a little off it became chaos. Well, that is astonishingly unhelpful! She thought, before paying attention to the words.

"Your parents are on the way."

Mummy's coming? Ugh, so infantile, yet, right now, she had a life experience of less than 2 days, that she could access at least. Perhaps I should just go easy on myself, whoever myself really is. She resolved.

"You probably know more about your mum's boss than I do."

She got a few images of staring at a ceiling, holding a phone to her ear and making 'polite conversation noises'. Well, that gives me some idea of what a phone is. And that perhaps I should have paid more attention. I hope I haven't been a bad daughter. She spent too long thinking about that, considering she had no recollection of ... oh, just about all her life. Then she noticed the voice was talking again.

"I'm sorry. I lied to you."

That's a great start. Lying to someone? Rather rude.

She felt the equivalent of a rebuking mental slap from a hidden part of her.

"He left me a trust to use for three things."

Wait... The voice was so close. Patterns were trying to form, but it was just ever so slightly off, scattering them apart before they could set.

"Education, a home, and a ring."

Gold. Five stones, in a mirrored pattern. That image was clearer than anything she had ever seen since her apparent 'rebirth'.

"So please. Anna. Please wake up, so I can put it on your finger."

The voice had been off. Tainted by fear and grief. But that last line...

Carl.

It was his voice. The connection was made. It resonated. Like a tone that could shatter glass, it shattered the walls that were holding her memories back. It was so much, it quickly overwhelmed her before she had the chance to sort them out. For once she was glad she was fading out.

* * *

Carl's attention was drawn by the EEG monitor as the spikes seemed to stretch and become chaotic, but they settled down a few moments later to what, he assumed, was a steady, literally sedated, pace.

Had she heard him?

He slipped his free hand over hers, giving it a soft squeeze.

"It's ok. We have all the time in the world. Take it slow. I'll be here." He whispered, as he settled into the position he had held for much of the last two days, leaning onto the bed, laying his head on his elbow as he kept his hand touching hers, the ring nestled between them.

[ultfreakme]

IFYLITA ep 9 thoughts

The thing that really stood out to me was the solidarity between Fongkaew and Ueang Pheung. The first few episodes pitted them against each other, these women have caused pain to one another but it is made clear to each other and the audience that it was never their fault. They are women living in a world where they are constantly oppressed. They cannot be on different sides. I love Fongkaew's tremendous development and the grace with which she's navigating everything. Ueang Pheung I think is a lot more emotional and shows her displeasure, while Fongkaew cannot afford to do that.

I loved that Maey got rescued by Fongkaew and Ming, and that Ming holds no ill-will towards Ming because she doesn't like him romantically. Love isn't just romance and I'm sure they will be good friends. Maey was so heartbreaking but I sighed from relief seeing her free.

The Maey rescue operation start to finish was about how the oppressed are coming together to help one another and face the true enemy here; the patriarchal values as represented by Robert.

It was amazing to see all of them working together and getting along! In my head, Fongkaew, Ueang Pheung, Maey and Ming are all one big group and I hope they fight and triumph in whatever way they can. Every moment in the past episodes spent highlighting the class struggle, misogyny, homophobia- it all culminates into these people finding solidarity.

On that note, suppression under those values has not always brought community. Yai's mom had very little screen time but my god, did she nail her scene during the measurements. You could TELL she does not want this for Yai and that she hadn't even wanted the marriage for Ueang Pheung. You can see the pain in letting her two children down this bad, forcing them into misery. But she can't do anything! She can only watch as the man in their life decides everything for them.

Yai and Jom this episode broke my heart. The scene before the engagement where Jom tells Yai to let go of him nearly had me in tears. Both the actors did a wonderful job of portraying the sadness.

Yai talking back against his father and declaring that he loves Jom, that he wants to make his own choices and being angry was so good. It was cathartic, it was reflective. It made me angry on his behalf it was such a good scene and I'm glad Yai talked back. Which makes the end of the episode even more miserable because he protested so much but it takes a lot of courage to break free. More than is possible at times.

Jom weeping into Prik's shoulder, losing his love once again to heteronormativity, being kept a secret once more, was heart wrenching. He trusted his heart again to Yai and Yai broke his trust, hurting him exactly where it is fatal. Hearing the way he spoke and asked what wrong he did, what he did to deserve this really hit hard. It's how queer people are made to feel. No matter what we do, a lot of the times our love and identity is shunned. We are demonized, told we are fundamentally wrong. It is terrible to see Jom, who seemed so confident in himself and his love in EP1, a man of the 21st century who is supposed to be more secure in himself ask that question.

What is wrong with me?

It's not even because it's the 1920s because I suspect Jom's had this insecurity since Ohm cheated on him. He's only saying it out loud now. The story is showing the progress, but it's also showing that we still need to undo a lot of things fundamentally.

So watching Jom apparently accompanied by NUEY, bringing their "secret life" right into the open in sunlight, making the family see exactly what they are and being proud and loud about it is going to be absolutely amazing next episode! I thought we'd never get to see Nuey again I'm glad they're back!!! It's especially impactful because we witnessed a ceremony and a dining table conversation that so forcefully insists on heteronormative bs.

Honestly? Watching the engagement scene was very difficult. That's not some fantasy distant thing for me. This shit still happens in a lot of countries. This is still the reality for many queer people and often time, it's reinforced with a lot more violence and cruelty.

Every IFYLITA episode is so filled with meaning. It's a given, the episodes are an hour long. But I feel like so much is done that the hour feels extremely well used.

This series tackles with systematic issues in a historical context with such....grace and care. I don't think I've ever seen a thai drama that's done stuff like this. With every episode, I love this show even more.

[snow-system-wol]

Finally, it's over.

S'ria insists on G'raha getting medical care after they leave Amaurot, even if he has to do it himself. (Lyna is very much in agreement.)

Ao3

S'ria's heart had been pounding since the moment the Exarch (G'raha? He could call him that now, if he wanted) had approached after the battle. Even as G'raha responded to his name with a bit of cathartic crying, S'ria wasn't really focusing as well as he'd like on the conversation. As glad as he was to simply see everyone had survived ... There was a lot else to be focusing on.

Firstly, the last echo of Ardbert's presence, proud and satisfied, before he was no longer a distinct person. Secondly, gods, everything hurt. Nearly turning into a lightwarden and still needing to fight afterwards will do that to a body. Thirdly – G'raha. What had happened there?

Though S'ria felt sympathy over Emet-Selch's last words, it had not yet slipped his mind that he was very capable of cruelty. While they all were quite low on energy, it was a relief to watch G'raha be healed enough that he would at least not drown in The Tempest. In all honesty, he was barely in the worst three for handling the swim, in the end.

He wanted to be angry, to verbally tear this man apart for trying to sacrifice himself for S'ria's sake (never again, not a second time) – but he couldn't. Not right now.

S'ria could not help but file away every visual bit of information in an involuntary log. The cuts and bruising on his face, the blood at the corner of his mouth, the heavily torn patches of fabric, the wheezy catch of air in his throat, the obvious way his legs were not really supporting his weight. It made him feel uncomfortable to dwell on, and yet, it was difficult not to.

It was a blessing, the slightly distant reverence that the people of the Crystarium still regarded their Exarch with. The swarming and bone-crushing hugs that they'd had to gently protest against with the people of Eulmore were not a problem here. The one exception was Lyna, pulling the Exarch into a hug once they were within the tower. It was not lost on S'ria or Lyna just how badly he froze in response, not quite stifling a pained hiss.

He categorically refused to be seen receiving medical treatment, despite complaints that surely he would not be judged. Lyna's jaw clenched. S'ria got the sense that if he was in any less wretched of a state, she'd probably start trying to lecture sense into him. It was very valid. Both of them were well in agreement over not wanting the Exarch to die out of stubbornness – though this seemed to not be so dire at least.

Instead, she left S'ria to accompany the Exarch the rest of the way to his private quarters, promising to meet them there with whatever curatives she could find. ("Yes, for the last time, I won't say they're for you.")

It was bizarre, for S'ria, to know how to do things that he simply did not know. At least he understood why now – but that didn't make it feel less strange to start faintly dulling G'raha's pain with a weakly channeled spell.

He didn't much like the way it made him feel dissociated, trying to directly share his body with Menphina and let her do her work, but it was worth it at times. (And got a little easier every time.) S'ria was not sure how their tenuous grasp of healing magic worked, he wasn't even sure if Menphina truly understood herself, but her assistance was appreciated.

It was probably barely helpful, just something to do while they waited for Lyna. Even still, it made G'raha look at him in awe. S'ria wanted to ask why, given that the Exarch had all but raised him from the dead in battle before and this was barely a parlour trick in comparison. He decided just to blame the reaction on adrenaline and pain delirium.

Among the medicines left with them, there were salves that would help with surface level injuries better than a consumable medication. S'ria (S'ria-Menphina? It was truly disorientingly unclear at this point, that was very helpful, wasn't it?) asked if he'd like assistance with any such wounds, should he be comfortable with it. G'raha tensed, shoulders coming up protectively, and S'ria's heart was once again pounding just as much as it'd been in the ruins of Amaurot.

S'ria had been worried that his odd metabolism with the tower would be a problem, but the potions Lyna brought back seemed to work wonders. What a relief. The tension left Lyna's shoulders as G'raha finally began to breathe like a man whose ribs were not possibly broken.

After a while, she very begrudgingly left to make sure all was well elsewhere – with strict instructions to come get her if anything happened. Given that the Exarch no longer looked as though he may keel over, S'ria hoped nothing would come of that.

Inexplicably, G'raha had still said yes. S'ria turned away to give him some privacy. When he was allowed to look again, G'raha had removed the robe itself, but re-tied the outer drapings loosely at his waist, remaining more-or-less still half clothed. He sat on the edge of his bed, back mostly turned to S'ria.

It wasn't terrible, but it also wasn't great. It was mostly just mottled patches of bruises and scrapes that were the problem, aside from the gunshot wound that did not seem healed all the way to the surface.

(Gods, S'ria hoped it had been a clean shot through, he certainly wasn't about to surgically remove a bullet. The point was to heal him, not to hurt him worse.)

G'raha was anything but relaxed, even as S'ria did his best to touch gently, but it seemed to be helping. The muscles in his back were no longer quite so locked in place with discomfort. Good. The Exarch may have thought he could simply stubbornly push through any pain, but these things tended to heal slower when you couldn't even untense. There was not so much to be done for what remained of the bullet wound, aside from hoping any pain was dulled.

S'ria sat back and asked, as nonchalantly as possible, whether there were any other injuries he may need care for. G'raha flinched at the question and S'ria put the salve down next to him before it could slip from suddenly numb fingers. The was a strange ringing in his ears, he felt nauseous, his tongue felt like lead – but he had to ask, didn't he? (He would prefer not to.) His words came out far rougher than he would've liked.

"He didn't. He–", S'ria swallowed, throat feeling very dry. "Please tell me he didn't."

S'ria could tell the exact moment G'raha understood the question, because he quickly turned around to face him.

"No, no, gods no. Nothing like that, I swear it." He looked horrified, as if the possibility had never occurred to him, and S'ria immediately regretted bringing it up. G'raha paused, looking more shy than fearful, now that S'ria paid closer attention. "I am just quite capable of treating any other scrapes myself, as opposed to removing more of my clothing, that was all."

S'ria wasn't sure whether he felt more embarrassed or more angry at himself. Of course G'raha merely didn't necessarily want to strip down and make things weird. Of course it hadn't been anything like that. The Ascian wouldn't have gone that far and normal people would not have even thought about that –

S'ria nearly jumped out of his skin when G'raha placed his hand over S'ria's clenched fist. S'ria felt self conscious about how obvious his thoughts may have just been.

Once they began to talk, to reminisce in earnest, it was difficult to stop. They ended up speaking late into the night, hopefully the first of many more nights that this Shard would see.

"While I am quite alright, I do appreciate the concern. You are welcome to keep me company a while longer, if you do not require rest yet yourself."

It was nice, to actually catch up. Even if S'ria had known his identity for a while now, it was a relief to finally openly talk to each other. S'ria had not yet forgotten the need to insist he never pull a stunt like this again, especially not for him, but that could continue to wait until a later date.

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Hello! Sending some numbers from the end-of-year book ask, I'm not sure of everything you've already answered, so if you'd like to do any or all of these: 4, 5, 12 (especially because you write about reading books with vibes related to your projects), and 17. I hope you feel better!

hiya!! thanks for the ask! referencing this post.

4. If you DNF any books, what was the pettiest reason you put a book down this year?

so one of my toxic reader traits is actually that i DON'T tend to DNF things--i'm very stubborn, and i tend to read fast enough that it doesn't feel like a waste of too much time, AND i usually flip from "Reading to Read" to "Reading to Tear That Shit Apart" (as a writerly exercise, mostly, or for a hate read, which i find cathartic because i am frequently full of rage these days).

one book that is taking me Much Longer Than Anticipated to get through, though, is DAEMON VOICES by Philip Pullman, which i started in....september. a writer friend gifted it to me, and i was pleasantly surprised by the last book she gifted me, so i'm slogging along. but. this man. grates on me. it's mostly his hot takes on religion, so i keep putting him in time out when he conflates shit he has no business conflating. some of his general story thoughts are interesting! but every time he mentions religion, he's on thin ice with me, and he keeps winding up in Time Out About It lol. (also the lectures transcribed to essays format isn't really working for me, pettily.)

5. What's a scene you read this year that sticks with you?

oof okay i LOVE the specificity of this question but it absofuckenlutely made me bluescreen haha.

after staring at my shelves about it for a few minutes (quite a few minutes), i have to confess that MOST of NETWORK EFFECT is imprinted on my grey matter (but that's my second time rereading it, so i don't know if it counts. shout out to "ART sent me" and "you little idiot," especially).

for things new to me this year: the last scene of ROADSIDE PICNIC by the Strugatskys has apparently ALSO imprinted on my brain (unexpected), and mumu's delightful narration in WALKING PRACTICE by Dolki Min has great sticking power (there's some VERY cool text formatting going on there that feeds into the voice, which i loved!).

12. Did any book inspire you to create?

first off, it made my whole week that you mentioned the reading/writing/vibes thing, i feel seen and known, thank you!!

second off: WALKING PRACTICE gave me excellent writing-related vibes and inspiration for my weird little monster child book, and i loved the cool formatting/voice things it did. (it definitely comes with content warnings, though, for things like graphic on-page sex and body horror and eating people (frequently all three of those together/concurrent), so proceed with caution if that's not your jam!)

the SKYBOUND SAGA also inspired ~creation~ for me, from the opposite direction: very much a "damn, if this can get published, mine can too, let's gooo" type of inspiration. (i am a spite-fueled being, sometimes.)

17. A book you reread this year. Did it hold up to how you remembered it?

oh! i did actually quite a bit of rereading toward the end of the year!! i reread ARTIFICIAL CONDITION and NETWORK EFFECT in preparation for SYSTEM COLLAPSE, and those absolutely held up--ART and murderbot are my beloveds, and i stayed up way past my bedtime for like a week in a row (even though i have reread both of those at least once before, so hypothetically i know what's coming and i could put them down any damn time)(reader, i cannot).

my other rereads were VICIOUS and VENGEFUL by VE Schwab. VICIOUS held up perfectly, too--i've reread it before, and this time i did it specifically to dissect her timelines, and it's just a masterpiece of tension and pacing and history and reveals.

VENGEFUL, on the other hand, was Fine™. i don't hate it, but i don't love it--i could set that one down easier (which was good for my aforementioned bedtimes), and dissecting it wasn't as helpful of an exercise. don't get me wrong, i love victor and mitch and syd, and i enjoyed eli's backstory, but. it wasn't VICIOUS.

thanks again for asking!!

[edoro]

hey, I don't know if you've done one of these yet, but do you have any fics you'd like to recommend?

(more specifically hunter focused ones? I've read some of your stuff and you really nail the horror of trauma and the later impact of it and since you have a an understanding of the topic that feels realistic/relatable to me, you're opinions matter a lot more. But no pressure of course. I hope life treats you well, you deserve it.)

my fic recs tag has a couple of rec lists and scattered individual fics!

however it's been a little while since i did a rec list and people do put out new fics frequently, so, here's some i have enjoyed recently:

(long post, a few of these fics deal with incest and csa)

enough to leave scars by Haicrescendo is an absolutely love, deliciously bittersweet look at Hunter's Trauma(TM) through his own and Camila's eyes. it's just a really nicely done character study, where there are no quick and easy answers. there's no big cathartic moment where Hunter reveals everything - in fact, he doesn't reveal anything to Camila, but it's obvious enough to her that he's been mistreated, and she does her best to show him that he's safe here. he doesn't entirely believe it, but he starts to think maybe he can.

it feels very realistic without being completely bleak. there's no quick fix, no instant resolution, no soul-baring conversation, just a very damaged boy and a woman patiently trying to show him that he's safe now, and nothing is really solved by the end of it, but you can see how maybe it will be.

also, Camila takes Hunter to the vet office with her and he gets to hug a dog.

Learned Response by The_Escaped is another fun Hunter Trauma fic - one chapter out of a projected two currently posted, and the gist is that Hunter sees Luz's uneasiness with her mother and comes to an extremely incorrect but very understandable conclusion about why that is. good look at Hunter being jumpy and defensive of his friends around a strange adult who he has reason (per his own experiences) to believe isn't safe, without being over the top or sliding into melodrama. i'm really excited to see where the second chapter goes!

Taking Off by Heyguysitsme explores Hunter's relationship with authority via flashbacks about him learning to fly his staff and a present-day driving lesson with Camila. another one with Camila POV, which i really enjoy, where once again things are very strained and awkward between them and she doesn't really know why or entirely how to handle it.

a bad taste in my mouth by Dragon_Scales_And_Fairy_Tales is a fic about Hunter having an eating disorder. now i know i have complained about the popularity of the "Hunter is scrawny and underfed" headcanon before but i find this very plausible - it's all focused around his sense of control and fear and need to keep himself safe, rather than a nonsensically imposed form of abuse from Belos. so i really like this, but beware it's a very in-depth look into one potential psychology of self-starvation.

His Broken Bones Bear Witness To Haunting Illusions by Sigmu is an interesting post-canon take on Hunter's trauma. it's a very meandering, slow, reflective fic where Hunter mentally circles around and never quite directly looks at or touches what happened. there's a lot of general trauma and identity issues going on there, people including Hunter trying to move on and adjust to a post-Belos life, and more specifically the thing Hunter never quite faces head on is that Belos sexually abused him.

it's all very vague, although clear enough in its implications. Hunter feels a lot of guilt and shame and is determined to keep it private, and in later chapters is also very, very concerned with what happened during that period of time where Belos was alone with Luz. he never quite lets himself complete a thought about his abuse, so i'm excited to see where this is eventually going, if he's going to have a breakdown and end up revealing it to someone after avoiding it for several chapters, or what.

Caricature Carving by poni is one i think i already answered an ask about but i'll slap it in an official lengthy rec post as well. this is a fic where Hunter is sexually assaulted by a group of scouts and comes to Belos for comfort; Belos responds with possessive anger, victim-blaming, invasive creepiness, and eventually sexual abuse of his own.

it's unique for being Belos POV, which most of these fics aren't, and i love the exploration of his sense of entitlement, the intensity to which he objectifies and dehumanizes Hunter, and how deliberately manipulative and cruel he is. i'm excited for the last chapter!

the safe house series by paranoid_parallax deals with Hunter disclosing his sexual abuse at Belos's hands to Eda. at first, he sees it as having been consensual and even positive, but comes to realize it was in fact abusive, and struggles intensely with that. the first fic is about him working through that realization with Eda, and the second includes him talking about it to Raine.

this fic series falls a little bit into the "everyone is talking like they just read a therapy workbook" trap, but i still really enjoyed it. it caught me at a bit of an emotionally vulnerable time and something about it was just very gripping, almost wrenching - there is an honest sense of anguish, expressed as pus might be from an infected boil, in Hunter's simultaneous denial of his own trauma, self-loathing for what he sees as his part in it as well as his responses to it past and present, and desperation for comfort that he doesn't know how to ask for or receive.

See The Worst by anonymous is one i think i ALSO did an ask for, but: in Belos's mindscape, Luz and Hunter end up stumbling into a memory of Hunter being sexually abused. Luz struggles to understand what's even going on and then to understand Hunter's response to it. this is a bleak and painful look at repression as a defense mechanism, and how from the outside it can look an awful lot like not caring, and how hard it is to help someone who's stuck in such a difficult situation.

in the aftermath by clovariia is a fic about a quiet moment between Hunter and Belos following an incident of physical abuse. in it, Hunter struggles to reconcile both his love for and fear of his uncle. Belos is emotionally manipulative as fuck and it's all very creepy and faintly slimy. there are also vague implications of Hunter being a csa victim, but that's not the main focus of the fic.

Dawning by anonymous is a genre of fic i am quite fond of, where Hunter fucks something up and tries to offer himself up to fix it, leading to some awkward conversations. in this case, the awkward conversation is with Eda. vaguely implied/discussed sexual and also physical abuse.

A Fear Reflected by Jalules is about Hunter and Luz having a conversation in the middle of the night in the human realm, where he asks her what happened during those moments she was alone with Belos, and if it's what he was afraid it was. they discuss ways Belos wanted to hurt her, and while Hunter doesn't actually openly disclose having been sexually abused to her, she gets the gist.

and call them brothers by ElectricBoomerang is a very fun and bittersweet bit of speculation on how that memory spell Gus did might have worked - he ends up telling Hunter what he thinks he saw, and he and Hunter mutually put their pieces of the Hunter Identity Puzzle together.

[bogglesgate]

YLLIS MULTIPLES OF 3 (asks)

OHO thank you so much!! <33 Putting it under a read-more because it got very long lol.

3. Did your Tav receive any formal or informal education? If yes, how well did they learn? If no, why not?

As a child, her education was pretty informal, but as thorough as it could be given that she and Ystran, up until she was about 19-20, lived fairly remotely in a forest nearby to Evereska. He did a lot of work as a guard/tough on the side, though, so he would leave for a week or so sometimes and always come back with a new pile of books she needed. It was important to him that she be educated, especially as a child when she first started showing interest in wizardry and it became clear she had a natural talent. She was (and is) a very quick study for the things that interest her.

She did receive a more formal adult education after she moved to Baldur's Gate and was taken on by a mentor, who was a small-time conjurer but nevertheless good at what he did. She only got about 2 years with him before the incident but it was very foundational and even though he was very vicious in cutting her off after she started getting suspicious, she still looks up to him and credits him for having helped make her the skilled wizard she is now. Everything else is self-taught.

6. What is your Tav’s favourite childhood memory?

It's less a specific memory and more the vibe of sitting cross-legged on a rock as a child and reading a book beyond her skill-level before Ystran called her in for supper.

9. What was your Tav doing when they were taken by the mind flayers?

Girl-rotting.

In seriousness, she was only about a year or two? off prying herself from the grips of her obsessive spiral, and so she was still in the process of picking up the pieces of her life and shattered sense of self. As for what she was doing the moment of being kidnapped, I flip-flop a lot but I kind of like the idea of her trying to relax at the park with her pipe for the first time in like 50 years and immediately getting snatched. Sorry girl.

12. What opinion does your Tav have about the Gods?

Ambivalent and often annoyed. She doesn't like any being having that much power, and she doesn't like how fickle and manipulative they are. The exception is actually Loviatar, because she did receive the blessing from Abdirak and it was the most straightforward experience she'd had with one of the gods before. Offer up pain, get a blessing. Honest and forthright exchange.

She also found the experience to be incredibly cathartic and she does occasionally offer up her pain to Loviatar in an amiable transactional way but she's also kind of a freak so take from that what you will.

15. What motivates your Tav to either embrace or resist the tadpole?

After so much time losing grip with herself, she is very leery of things attempting to tempt her into great power, especially when it comes with someone who has been lying to her from day one trying to push it on her.

18. What is your Tav’s greatest fear?

On a physical level, deep water. She loves rivers and baths and things but anything deeper than like mid-abdomen and she's checking out. She's not a very strong swimmer and she read too many stories growing up about sea monsters and things (I thought it was really fun when Halsin asked her fear and she was able to say krakens).

On a deeper level, grief. She's terrified of losing her loved ones again and the loneliness frightens her, and a part of that is that she's afraid that if she felt that kind of grief fresh, with the knowledge and power she now has, she wouldn't be able to claw herself out of another spiral. She was able to eventually let go of Ystran, but it took 50 years and who's to say it won't happen again?

(It wouldn't. She'd be able to resist it. It would be very painful and difficult, but she also has an actual support network this time rather than just the one person.)

(If they all died at once, however. Well.)

21. How does your Tav feel about love?

She thinks love, in all its forms, is the most important thing in the world, and is her motivation for almost everything she does despite her kind of reserved, seemingly closed-off mien. She also thinks it's the vital precursor to grief, so a part of her is made uneasy by the strength of her own love for people, but it's also something she refuses to close herself to because she doesn't see a point in any of it if she does. She's been deprived, she has a lot of time and loneliness to make up for, and she intends to make that her friends' problem.

24. What first impression does your Tav give off to strangers?

With her scars and false eye, and even to some extent her tattoos, she can give off a bit of a frightening first impression on appearance alone. Talking to her the first time, however, you get the impression of a quiet, reasonable, reliable woman. Both are accurate enough but they leave out that she is, at her core, a restless little freak of a woman.

27. How does your Tav feel about giving and receiving orders?

Giving, she takes on as a duty. It's a role she was unofficially placed in, and though she wouldn't have offered herself up for it, she takes it in stride and does her best. She can be a bit... unyielding sometimes, but she makes sure to be as fair and humble as possible.

Receiving orders, it depends highly on the person and the situation. She makes an active choice to trust the people she's working closely with, so if the situation calls for her trusting someone else's judgement over her own, she will hang back until her intervention is needed. The biggest example of someone she trusts to take orders from is Jaheira, and the feeling is mutual, so they're often sharing the role when they're together (it has never run so smoothly).

30. What are your Tav’s intentions/goals after the end of the game?

Reminder that this is based off of what I know about the end of the game, so it may change post-epilogue but. Firstly, she'd construct a tower in the Underdark as a home base that isn't her house in Baldur's Gate so that it's easier to stay with Astarion (though she is keeping that house, just in case, and does go back often). She'd pretty much just live with Astarion the rest of her life, researching a cure/way for him to walk in the sun, adventuring, getting into shenanigans. She'd meet up with Halsin as much as she can. I don't think she finds an outright cure, but she does manage to find a way for Astarion to walk in the sun again.