#i can't even begin to describe my anger right now

[eneabastianini]

It's been almost a year since my last post but I can't not talk about this.

F1 is trying to make a big deal about being more progressive, making a safe place for women. And how do they do that? By grossly mishandling a potential sexual assault case at the start of the season. Allowing Patrick Mahomes to buy shares of Alpine after repeatedly defending his brother's sexual battery case. Allowing James Charles into the paddock, someone with multiple allegations involving underage boys.

AND INVITING DONALD TRUMP.

edit to add: Camila Cabello is a racist and so is Jake Paul who are also at this race

[clownery-and-fuckery]

As promised, my commentary on Hunter.... to the people that like him, im sorry.

Spoiler warnings and the like, this is pretty negative aside from like maybe three sentences?? Feel free to leave you're own opinions on this too ofc !!! >:)

I dont like Hunter.

Actually, that's not entirely true, I liked him in TCW season 7, when he was that silly man who fucked droids around the place, took no shit, and loved his brothers. I like the Hunter who, not putting this nicely, had a personality.

This is not a dig on him as a character, it's a dig on how he was handled, writing wise

Listen, I totally get that the "rugged-man-adopts-a-star-child" trope is popular, and I do LOVE that trope, really I do- I just don't really think it was done that well here? It's bothered me since s1 of the Bad Batch, and I don't think it's going to get any better this season....

My only real problem with the writing inconsistency of Hunter being an older brother of three to "Omega this, Omega that" and while I agree childcare is SUPER difficult at the best of times, Hunter had four brothers who were equally capable of taking care of Omega, too. It just never sat right with me that taking care of her became his ENTIRE personality

Hes a soldier, who despite being completely out of his element, had a routine he strictly followed for the whole war. Yet he seemed to completely forget about that ?? Stressed or not stressed, that worn in routines and LIFELONG LESSONS should not have left his head as quickly as they seemed to.

The most obvious and frustrating example of the oversimplification of Hunter's character is with Crosshair. I cannot even BEGIN to describe my anger when it comes to Hunter and Crosshair. It mainly stems from the way he just FORGETS his brother is with the Empire. Conveniently never bringing it up unless someone else did it first.

As the oldest sibling and squad leader, I personally think Hunter should have been the one to bring him up. It should not have had to be specifically mentioned by another character for Hunter to discuss it. He loves his brothers, he loved Crosshair, broody or not, he should have brought it up AT LEAST once, imo.

We also see this complete disregard for Crosshair AGAIN in s3, now that we have seen Hunter looking for Omega and not ONCE mentioning Crosshair. Has he forgotten that they were originally going to find Crosshair??? That they never actually FOUND their brother ??????? Annoyed me so much, tbh.

What else annoyed me was the singular language he used during the whole episode. "She's part of our squad." "Hemlock took SOMEONE from us." He's completely and utterly disregarding the OTHER TWO SIBLINGS that the Empire took away from him !!!!! It genuinely frustrates me so much.

I know I'm DEFINITELY nit-picking here, but even when Hunter looked to Tech's goggles, it was in a "He should've been here to do this." Way, not a "He should be here." Way. That's his brother, who died looking for another that Hunter has forgotten.

Hunter's tunnel vision is probably one my least favourite things about the Bad Batch, if I dare even MENTION that- and I love this show. It means so much to me, but I just can't handle this particular part of it...

I have so SO much anger directed towards the treatment of Hunter by the writers. I want the Hunter who was devoted to his WHOLE family, who fought for ALL of them, who would have NEVER allowed Crosshair to leave in the first place. Give me that Hunter back.

(Saying this- I do not mind Hunter and Omega's father/daughter and brother/sister relationship !!! I do really enjoy it- in small amounts. The fact that Hunter became nearly an extention of Omega really just- threw me off his whole character, really)

I specifically pick to ignore this when I'm making anything. Hunter has been a sergeant of three idiots(named endearingly) for the entirety of the war. One child who wanders around should not have taken up 100% of Hunter's attention, ESPECIALLY when he was surrounded and supported. It just bothers me, idk

Anyway, thats my rant !!! Back to some positives soon, promise !! I just had to get this off my chest, it's been BOTHERING me.

[sugarbbgrl]

Got Yourself a Bad Habit

I'm tipsy, h word and hoping this doesn't come out too shitty :3

WARNING: MDNI, 18+

cw: enemies to lovers, pnv, insults

wc: 1355

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

It’s a constant battle between the two of you, every damn day. No amount of peace in the world could get you to stop irritating each other from your respected apartments.

The first week he moved in was the last time you knew tranquility. You’d think you would make peace with each other and then move of with you lives. But then, BAM, two years later and there still seems to be a problem everyday.

You can't play your music without John hammering his fist into the wall adjacent to you. It interrupts your spring cleaning and is more obnoxious than the music itself. But the volume doesn't falter no matter how much he complains

Until a knock at your door disrupts you. Well, more of a bang on your door.

"What?" You say, opening the door to see a red faced John Price at your door with his hands on his hips.

"Did you not hear my complaints to turn that shit down?" His chest heaves in anger as his voice booms through the air, his British accent more gruff than usual.

“Oh.. That was you?." You smirk and lean against your door frame, taking a sip from your coffee. “Thought is was someone’s dog yapping.”

“It’s nine o’clock in the fucking morning, Y/N.” John point s finger at you. “Turn that shit down.”

“Mmm..” You trail off as you fake a thought, tapping on your chin with your free hand. “No.” You slam the door in his face.

“You’re a right cunt!” His muffled curses could be barely heard through the closed door as you turned the music up a little bit more. Banging continued against as Bad Habit by The Kooks began playing, until your front door was slammed open by a, now, fuming John Price.

“Hey! You’re going to pay for the damages, asshole!” You screamed at him as he stormed into the threshold. Price made his way to your speaker and hit the power button, you music coming to an abrupt halt.

"I told you to turn this horseshit off, Y/N!" He yelled, solid chest heaving from the short and angry breaths.

"What's your problem, John?!" You scream at him, walking closer to him. "It's just music! I'm allowed to play whatever I want and whatever time I want and there's nothing you can fucking do about it!" You poke at his solid chest, digging you finger in harder more each time. You stare into each other's eyes for a few seconds longer before you mauver your way around him and turn your speaker on once more

"You're so fucking infuriating!" He barks at your back as you scroll through your songs. You smirk as you settle on Something in Your Mouth by Nickelback, really trying to elicit a reaction out of the fuming man behind you.

Suddenly, large hands twist your around by your waist. You're now chest to chest with John, both breathing heavy and tension to light around the both of you as he crashes his lips against your mouth.

A muffled yelp escapes you cover lips, eyes widening sightly before squeezing shut as you kiss him back with the same amount of force. Your hands move along his broad shoulders to the back of his head, gripping the soft strands in your fist.

You can't lie, you've been dreaming of the day you get to have some physical interaction with your neighbor, John is a sight for sore eyes; wide, muscled back, pretty eyes, and a slight sense of humor when he wants it to break through. Even with his annoying "rules" of no music past a certain time, you've always been attracted to the Brit now roaming your body with his rough hands.

The kiss was more than you could've ever imagined. Intense was the best word to best describe it. Teeth clashing lightly, tongues intertwined and short breaths between.

"You piss me off far more than you could imagine." He speaks into your mouth, ending the sentence with a tight squeeze of your ass in his hands. You can feel your pussy begin to soak your underwear at the rough action, causing a quiet moan to push it self against his lips.

"Fuck you.." Your mumble, his kisses trialing form your mouth and to your neck.

"Yeah? You think so?" John stops his attack and spin your around, pressing your body against the nearest wall. "Why don't you try me, slut."

John spreads your legs with his knee and yanks your shorts down with lustful force, taking no time to cup your cunt with his large hand. You sharply inhale at the sudden contact, your pussy clenches against him as he brings his hand to your clit, taking two fingers to rub circles onto it. You force your ass against him at the feeling, your arousal drenching his fingers.

"So fucking wet.. All for me?" You hear his voice from behind you trail and an unzipping of his jeans.

"You fucking wish." You exhale as his tip lines up with your entrance, running it along slowly with his fingers still focusing on your slit. John pushes himself into your opening slowly, hissing at the tightness of you.

"Jesus fucking Christ." John bottoms out into you, nuzzling his nose into your neck and kisses the back of your neck once more, "If I would've known you were this ready I would've done something sooner."

He slowly pulls himself out of you before pushing back in with just as much force, as if savoring the warm feeling of you around him. You sigh as he bottoms out once more, pushing his chest to your back, more heat roaming around the both of you, His fingers still touch your small bud, retracting and thrusting once more.

"You wouldn't know what to do even if it was in front of you." You breathlessly chuckle, savoring the feeling of his thick in your. A locw growl emanates from deep within in, his other hand snaking its way through your hair and grips the crown. You look at him as he forces your head back, mouth open and doe eyes capturing his attention. John keeps a steady pace now, sliding in and out of your with ease and rests his mouth on top of your head.

HIs cock grows harder as he impales your harder, hushes moans pushing past his lips with every movement. You can feel yoursekf growing wetter as he tightens his grip on your scalp, closing your eyes to fully immerse yourself in the pleasure.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to fuck the living shit out of you." He breathes, picking his pace up more and more as time rolls by. "Watching you take your trash out in skimpy little shorts and a tank top without a bra. You could make any man forget everything.

You can feel your climax approaching faster and faster, opening your eyes once more to meet his.. Eyes linger longer this time, breaths quickening pace, He places a quick yet gentle kiss to your forehead, lips lingering a bit longer than expected. His cock hardens further at the moans you shamelessly let go, finally letting yourself feeling everything in this moment.

Your orgasm rip through you, a yelp and a shiver running through your entire body. Your legs shake as he keeps the same pace causing your eyes to roll back. He pushes your head against the wall as your body gives into the intense feeling coming over you.

"Fucking shit,," John hisses, releasing our head and running his hand along your back before landing on your waist, gripping both side with force. He comes not to long after you, puling out to spray his ejaculate along your backside. Deep moans ringing in your ears as you attempt to recover form your own climax.

Banging on the wall from your neighbor on the opposite side sounds through your place, breathless chuckles coming from the both of you as you both sit and process the interaction between you two,

"Well, maybe you should turn your music up louder next time."

[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

A BREATH OF FIRE × Min Yoongi

[Hybrid gods AU]

INTRO

Run little girl

Warnings: mentions of blood, death, killing.

Keep breathing. Don't slow down. Run. Run. Run.

I hear their disgusting laughs behind me as i take a turn to the forest. How stupid of me thinking this was the best decision. But how could i know? I've been careful all my life, never going to parties, never staying up late after work and always making sure i wasn't alone at night. But today, it felt uncanny from the beginning of the day. I can't find the words to describe how it felt like some thing was going to happen, from the moment i woke up to me walking to my silly job at a coffee shop and then to my coworker asking me to work her late night shift, i thought why not? Nothing ever happen, why would it now? Right.

Wrong.

One moment i was waiting at the bus stop to go home, the second moment a car pulls up and two men are now following me non stop.

Why?

Why did i agreed to do a late shift tonight?

Why?

More then anything I was angry with myself for thinking i would be safe at night.

My chest was hurting at this point but i couldn't stop. I just kept running. Even when the trees would cut through my skin as i blinded made my way deeper and deeper inside the darkness of this endless forest. I would fall on my knees and go back to my feet, even if i was bleeding the fear and adrenaline keeping the pain away and i knew that if i survived this tonight tomorrow it'd probably hurt even more.

I can't keep going like this.

Defeated and tired, for a moment i stoped and looked around me, checking my surroundings i couldn't hear a thing. No bird. No wind. Nothing.

Everything was dark and the fear of what might happen to me now was suffocating.

I refuse to become a victim like this. I refused to die by the hands of those pigs.

Turning to my left i stared running again. Their laughs and disgusting comments were getting closer.

I had to do something but nothing came to my mind. Running was all i could do now.

My breathing was so loud i almost didn't hear it. But then the sound of water falling went through my ears and i decided to fallow it instinctively. From where I was i could already see a bit of the moon light ahead of me, lucky for me it was a full moon tonight and it's light was shining bright.

So i let it guide me.

Until I fell right in front of a lake.

A low groan came from my lips as i used my hands to stand up, the pain from the fall pushing me back down but i held on, my hands now even more bruise then before. An angry puff of air came out of my lips as i saw blood on them, how fucking lucky. As i slowly averted my eyes up to look at my surroundings the two men were standing behind me i saw their reflections on the lake.

They both stood stood there looking as if i was a fool, a victim, the prey they've been waiting for.

I was sick to my stomach at the sight of their disgusting smiles.

- well well... - one of them said.

- aren't you a runner huh?! - the other laugh, he was holding a baseball bat. They were old and looked like pigs - too bad is over now.

Quickly i made sure to stand up and grabbed whatever stone i could that felt sharp enough to cut while doing so. I would fight to the end of this.

- it was fun... - one of them said approaching slowly - but the hunt is over. Now is time for the real fun...

- you can do this the easy way and... start stripping, or you can do it the hard way - the other one took a knife out of his pocket and pointed at me, a wicked smile on his face - And let us do it.

Anger was building inside me as i watched them looking at each other as if they won, as if I was a mare piece of meat.

I knew my chances were low, for that i had only one choice to make. They were two and stronger then me, there is no way i can win. But at least one i can take it down.

- i would rather die... - i said holding the stone against my neck.

Even if it meant me.

They only laughed.

- come on princess... you don't have to be like this - the one with the knife started to approach me making me held the stone tighter against my neck.

- we all just wanna have some fun...

Looking over to the moon and the beautiful night sky, what a sight the moon must have of me.

I... would really...

How many death as have you witnessed in silence dear moon?

Rather die...

His sickening voice was cut out and silence by the sound of a slash.

I felt the wind blow against my face slowly and the smell of blood.

All it took was one breathe.

So fast that I almost didn't saw it happening.

So quietly.

In a flinch of a movement, his head was cut off so easily. Right in front of me. Still my eyes could not believe what i was seeing.

Until the body of the man fell right in front of me.

The moon was shining so bright now i could clearly see every inch of his features, the way his black hair fell over his eyes. They were made of a golden yellow color that just didn't seem real, nothing i have ever seen. And the scar on his right eye. A bloody scar.

He licked the drop of blood on the corner of his mouth, smirking at my direction. A devilish smile, yellow eyes shining even brighter under the moon light. He looked like a God, shining in his fancy clothes and unbiased by the blood on it.

All i could do was watch.

As he moved towards the other men holding his sword towards him, the man didn't move all he did was stare as the creature in front of him killed him in a glance with horror in his eyes. The mysterious creature didn't spare him much time as he slashed his sword against the man cutting his head off too.

So much blood. The smell was suffocating.

From the back i saw his ears standing behind his head falling down as he breathed, slowly looking up and smiling.

He was not human. I could clearly tell.

Have I really died already?

The smell of blood was so clear and the wind now blowing against my face, finally I could hear the trees and the birds singing again. As if all nature knew that now it was safe.

Slowly he looked at me not moving, a smirk on his lips. Then he guarded his sword walking in my direction.

- you owe me now human... - he said coming closer, nearly inches away from my face  - how are you gonna repay the fox for saving your life?

His voice was calm and low, almost a whisper. Taking the stone from my hand that i didn't even knew i was still holding hard against my skin, his touch was cold and it woke me up from the dream i thought i was in. This is real.

- breath little human... - he said and softly caressed the strand of lose hair off my face. At his command i finally breathed.

- you are in shock... - he mumbled, almost sounding like a cat purring. His golden eyes looking stray into mine made me feel warm.

Then slowly he lifted one finger and pressed on the center of my forehead, and i felt the heaviness and tiredness took over me in a second.

With one hand he held me by the waist, as i slowly feel into a slumber. The other hand he used to push my hair back so he could whisper the last part before i fall completely asleep.

- now... you owe the fox two wishes.

Next?

Note:

Sorry for any grammatical errors hehe. It's a rough post.

[emepe]

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: A journal entry. Meanwhile, Armin does what he can to help Eren out.

— Content warnings: mentions of murder and torture of a woman, misogyny.

— Notes: Hello, hello! Thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged chapter 1 of this series. I really appreciate it <3 Happy reading, bubs!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

just friends

September 8, 2024

There’s nothing I hate more than arrogant women. That’s why I had to kill her. 

All I wanted was for her to smile at me. She wouldn’t. I filled her room with all her favorite things and even loosened her handcuffs. But she was so fucking hard-headed it drove me crazy. The little bitch even dared to spit at me. I had to teach her a lesson. I had to let out my anger somehow. 

For a while, it was exciting to watch her writhe in pain. I can’t even begin to describe how thrilling it is to see how much a human can tolerate until they break. I told her it was compensation for the look she gave me the day we met. She kept lying and saying she didn’t even remember having bumped into me on the street.

I really wish she could’ve bounced back this time. I’m so lonely without her now. I miss her.   

Humans are social by nature, it's what all the books say. When one is young, we need protection and love from our caregivers. As we grow, our world gradually expands and we bond with other people — friends from school, teachers, neighbors, coworkers. If one must stick to tradition, there's bound to be a romantic relationship to develop at some point. But for some people, that imposed path doesn't come naturally. Or rather, there have been blockages throughout the years that resulted in stunted social growth. 

That's where you find yourself. It's not your fault. When one grows up forced to believe she's nothing but a burden, it's only natural to try to take up as little space as possible. But again, it's not your fault. One doesn't acquire those thoughts on their own. 

You ruined my life!

As much as wellness and self-help gurus will preach there's a place in the world for everyone, self-awareness keeps you from blinding yourself toward the baggage you carry. It wouldn't be fair to lay that on anyone else. 

So you've shrunk yourself. No making yourself seen, no making yourself heard. No talking outside of what is strictly necessary to survive. No inserting yourself into other's lives. For the most part, it's worked. Albeit, you've been deemed unlikable, weird, and rude. It's better this way. There's no use in putting yourself out there if there's so much to feel ashamed of. It's too much to trouble others with your pitiful self.

Who in the world would want to put up with you?

After the usual snarky murmurs and judgmental glances, you're rarely acknowledged save for when someone — usually a man — tries to “take a crack” at you and the whispers float in the air for another while. Other than that, you're at peace with yourself. You're almost convinced you've developed invisibility powers. 

That is until Armin came along. At first, you sighed at the prospect of going over your routine yet again. Cementing boundaries and erasing any hope that it just takes the right guy to “loosen you up”. It was disgusting to have your quietness be misinterpreted for arrogance by the men at work. Even if that were the case, who was anybody to assume you needed to be knocked down a peg through sexual advances?

But Armin proved himself to be different. He tore away at your skepticism by simply being kind with no ulterior motives. Men can be so stupid. They'll believe a girl can't pick up when they're being slimy. It must've shocked them when you started having lunch with Armin more frequently. 

It was thanks to him that you slowly expanded your world's limits. It was because of him that you began to question the voice that rang in your ears. After receiving the housewarming party invitation, you wondered whether to step forward or back. There was no denying Armin's expansion had awoken something in you. You wanted company — craved it — but you didn't want to risk bringing trouble into the group. What if Armin was an anomaly and the things that echoed in your head were true? Maybe Armin wasn't an anomaly at all, he just didn't know enough about you. You certainly didn't let him in enough. 

In the end, your heart overruled your brain. You wanted more. With a hopeful heart, you went to the party. 

A heavy sigh slips past your lips as you pick at your dinner on Sunday night. Your hair is still damp from the shower and it rests uncomfortably along your neck. Your phone lies next to your plate, buzzing every few seconds to match the texts that come into the group chat — arrangements are taking place for the next get-together with Armin and his friends. 

After your moment of realization on the balcony, you faked a yawn and went back inside to pretend to fall asleep.

This morning, you avoided being alone with Eren. Not out of fear of something happening, but you needed to sort out your feelings on the situation.

There's no denying Eren is an attractive man — but that doesn't faze you. 

Catching Eren's eye wasn't something you planned. Your world suddenly expanded outside of your will — out of your control. You're not annoyed, just overwhelmed. 

Being the center of someone's attention means more expectations, more to live up to — he has no idea you're not the kind of girl he needs. Nobody needs someone who's a burden. It's not as if you're open to reciprocating any special attention, anyway.

If history has taught you anything, it’s that love isn't in the cards for you. It's best not to entertain any silly ideas.

Friendships are tricky, but no more than romance — or whatever crossed Eren's mind each time he looked at you. Keeping to oneself is easier than either one. But with the latter idea being too late to return to, you'll have to nip this problem in the bud.

The few hours before lunchtime seem to drag slower every Monday. Given that sparing time to eat was nothing but another task to check off your to-do list, you never used to pay much attention to the clock. But since Armin, lunchtime means more than bringing food to your mouth, methodically stretching your pace to fit the length of your lunch break.

Now it means meeting with a friend, having someone fill in the silence with tales from the accounting department, and occasionally going on quick drives to Kuchel. 

So when you venture off to his cubicle, only for him to tell you he's swamped with work and won't have lunch until later, you're mildly disappointed. You don't let it show. After all, work trumps your trivial need for company.

So you wish him good luck and return to your desk. Without any conversation to fill in the minutes, you finish your food fairly quickly. When you glance at the time on your phone, barely fifteen minutes have passed. Your fingers tap rhythmically against your desk before you decidedly stand, grab your bag, and head for the elevator. 

The coffee shop on the corner of the street has been your go-to spot since you started working here. You've been there alone and with Armin. It's where your feet take you on the rare occasions when Armin is too busy. There's nothing wrong with the in-house coffee kiosk from your office building, but you find more comfort in being surrounded by strangers who keep to themselves than bumping into someone who doesn't like you. 

The early September days serve as a transition into cooler temperatures. A light breeze has added to the warmth leftover from summer. The leaves have yet to develop a clear change in color, but some yellow streaks are popping up here and there. The beginning of autumn pushes you toward all things cozy. By the time you reach the shop, you've got your heart set on having a warm cup of cinnamon tea.

You settle at a table, place your order, grab a book from your bag, and wait. Before you can reach the second paragraph of your read, a shadow casts over your left side, forcing you to look up in confusion. It's too soon for your tea to be ready. 

You're met with striking green eyes and plump lips that pronounce a bashful hi.

It's a strange coincidence. You wish you could say you've never seen him around here before, but you've never bothered to commit any face to memory if it's not necessary. 

“Eren, hi.”

The tint on his cheeks you remember so well from two nights ago resurfaces. A nervous swallow pulls at your throat. You never did map out a plan — then again, you weren't expecting to see him again so soon.

“I wasn't sure if it was you. Are you here with someone?” he asks, taking a second to look around the shop.

You shake your head. 

“No. Armin's busy so I came here alone,” you explain.

He nods, rocking his weight on his heels. A question seems to linger on the tip of his tongue as his gaze flits between you and the floor. It takes him a moment for him to find his voice, though. In spite of yourself, you have to admit it's actually a bit endearing. It's different. It's refreshing.

“Is it okay if I sit with you?” His eyes are overflowing with hope. 

You nod. He sits. The book in your hands is put away.

For a while last night, you debated the validity of your theory. Maybe Eren wasn't interested in you in the way you thought. After all, it was your first time meeting and he might’ve been nervous. You know enough about the way you present yourself to acknowledge you're not the most approachable person. Maybe all he needs is time to get used to you.

“Do you want to order something?” You ask, prepared to wave over a server. He stops you with a dismissive hand.

“It's okay, I already had some tea.”

Your eyebrows rise in surprise.

“Not a coffee guy?” 

He shakes his head, sputtering a nervous chuckle.

“Not really. I don't like bitter things.” His nose scrunches as if he can savor it on his tongue.

A server brings over your tea along with a small tray of additives. You thank them before returning to Eren's statement.

“You can always add sugar,” you point out with a shrug. 

He shakes his head again. This time you're relieved to find a playful smile dancing on his lips.

“Nothing can beat tea with honey.”

Your hand pauses mid-air on its way to pick up the wooden wand half lost in a jar of golden syrup. 

You hum in thought as you reach for the sugar spoon instead. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. That's how my mom made it for me when I was little. I'd get a stomachache or a cold and it was the first thing she'd make for me. I feel like a kid each time I drink it. It makes me think of her.”

The corners of his lips tug into a smile. You find yourself mirroring his expression as you look down at your hand stirring the sugar into your tea. 

“Your mom sounds nice,” you murmur.

“Oh, she's the best. I love her.”

Eren's shoulders relax. He feels at ease talking about his mom. He feels even better knowing he's successfully carrying out a casual conversation with you. In the light of day, everything is less scary. There's less to worry about. That carefree feeling blankets over everything. Suddenly, the motive he walked into this coffee shop for seems doable. 

Then a sinking feeling comes over his stomach. 

“Sorry.” The word bounces off his tongue without thinking.

“What for?”

He doesn't want to say it, but he hopes his apologetic gaze is enough to convey an explanation.

Your eyebrows shoot up in realization at his hesitance. Then they furrow as you press your lips into a fine line and shake your head dismissively. 

“Oh, that.” 

The recall of Saturday night when you drunkenly talked about your mom causes your cheeks to flare with heat.

Guilt settles in Eren's stomach. He didn't mean to bring up his mom. He also didn't mean to be so quick to apologize. It just made things worse now that you know he's tiptoeing around you. That's probably the last thing you want — to feel purposely pitied.

Flustered, he rummages through his brain for a solution — a way to get back on the track he was on. 

You fix your gaze on him. It's obvious he feels troubled. It's a foreign experience having someone worry so much about if they've caused you any harm. You're unsure of what feelings to associate with it other than guilt. He's not at fault for your crappy family life.

“So you and your mom are close?” you ask.

The crease in his forehead smoothes over. 

When he shyly reconnects with your gaze, your eyebrows raise ever so slightly in encouragement. The movement is so subtle it's hard not to miss — but not for Eren, who takes in every detail of your face with so much care. For Eren, the small shifts in your features are so interesting to look at. You express so much with so little. And yet there were times when you would accentuate your expressions as much as you could. What you held back vocally was compensated tenfold through your face. It's fascinating to him.

“Yeah.”

His voice is soft — a trace of his withering embarrassment.

“She's my best friend,” he adds with a little more confidence.

You take a sip of tea. The drink warms your stomach, mirroring that of your chest elicited by Eren's words. The fondness in his voice taints him with a childlike innocence. 

Eren Jaeger isn't worried about looking cool. He's honest and clumsy. It's charming.

A light shake of your head keeps your thoughts from drifting further.

“So not a coffee guy but a mama's boy, for sure. Got it.” You nod along with an overly serious expression painted on your face. 

He laughs, the sinking feeling in his stomach now dissolving into nothing. Had he not been on the receiving end of your bluntly spoken teasing the other night, he might not have laughed so easily.

A blush spreads across his cheeks. 

“Come on, don't tease me,” he mumbles.

You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling. Eren falls back into his previously relaxed state. 

The conversation continues to flow in between every sip of your tea.

“Do you come here often?” you ask as you prepare to take another sip. 

Your eyes are locked on his. He struggles with the intense eye contact. At least, it's intense on his end.

“Not really. Armin mentioned it to me so I thought I'd try it out.” 

The pads of his fingers drum a nervous beat on the table.

You nod, relieved. You'd feel silly if it had turned out he was a frequent customer and your disregard of the people surrounding you kept you from noticing him. It would've piled onto your embarrassment from the Kuchel incident. 

“Ah, so are you on your lunch break, too? Do you work around here?”

“Um, kind of. I do media production and marketing for a museum, but I do a lot of hours at home. My place is just a few minutes by car.” 

“That's so cool.” 

The amazement in your voice in addition to its sudden turn up in volume is enough to make him blush. 

“It's nothing special. I'm definitely not raking in the big bucks like Jean.” 

“Still, it's cool. It's a lot more interesting than being an office manager.” 

Your eyebrows scrunch together with newborn disdain for your job before you finish the remainder of your tea.

“Well, I can't argue there,” he says, imitating the sliver of bitterness in your voice.

You gasp in mock hurt. 

“Hey, only I can say it.” Your tone is serious, but he knows you're joking. He can tell by the twinkle of amusement in your eyes.

He laughs.

“How long until you have to get back to work?” 

You peek at the clock on the wall across the room.

“I still have some time. It's a short walk back, anyway.”

Despite your wording, your answer triggers his nervous antics. You're bound to part ways eventually and he swore to himself he would get the words out. He runs a hand through his hair to distract himself from the anxious flutter in his stomach. 

It's no big deal, he thinks. She's just a girl. 

He regrets not ordering something else when you asked him. It would give his hands something to do. Then again, he can't keep them from shaking as he gathers the courage to pronounce his next thought. So it's better he doesn't have any breakables in his hold.

He pronounces your name carefully. His heart skips a beat when your eyes meet his. It's strange to think that you hold so much power over him within just a couple of days since meeting. He wants to get closer — he needs to. Again, that feeling of wanting this moment with you to stretch farther squeezes at his chest. 

“Do you want to hang out sometime? Just the two of us?”

He can feel himself growing numb to his surroundings as he awaits your response. It's similar to the feeling he gets after stepping foot off a rollercoaster. The adrenaline is pumping furiously through his veins while his mind goes blank. It's a weird moment of chaos and bliss all at once.

You clear your throat. 

“So… a date?”

He swallows thickly and nods.

He watches you contemplate his proposal. Your lips are pressed in a fine line, your gaze low and brow furrowed.

It's too much to hope you're equally attracted to him — he's aware. But he hopes you like his company just enough to say yes. Or at the very least, you're curious to know more.

Your mind is in conflict. This is more than you've bargained for. All you wanted was to get along with Armin's friends.

“I'm sorry, Eren. No.” 

He instantly deflates to your firm tone. 

“It's nothing personal,” you explain. “You're a really nice guy. Really. But I'm not interested in dating… at all.” You sigh, dreading the pending words on your tongue. “And I don't really see you that way. I just want to be friends.”

He remains quiet, chewing on the inside of his cheeks as he processes your words. 

The situation is uncomfortable for you, but his defeated form weighs heavier on your heart. He looks so small. It's definitely worse for him. 

“Eren?”

Your voice grounds him. 

“Sorry, I really spaced out there,” he nervously laughs. “Friends, though. Yeah, friends is good. Friends is perfect, actually.”

The word leaves a bitter taste on his tongue each time. He can pat himself on the back for shooting his shot later but, for now, his senses have been blurred by the disappointment of being turned down.

“I really like talking to you, Eren. Really.” 

Your attempt to lighten the defeat on his shoulders works — a little. It's a relief you're not entirely opposed to having him around, at least. Eren finds comfort in that. Maybe it'll suffice while he fights away at his attraction. 

“I like talking to you, too.” His voice carries a tint of helplessness. 

Your eyes soften. 

“I should get going.” 

You pull out a fresh bill from your purse and place it under the empty teacup before standing.

He stands with you and holds the door open. It's not until you're both out on the sidewalk, bidding each other goodbye, that he forces a smile. 

“I'll see you around.”

“Bye, Eren.” 

“Sorry I couldn't make it to lunch,” Armin says. He leans against the edge of your desk with his hands in his pockets.

It's been an hour since you got back, and you've been typing away, replying to emails. 

You shrug, tossing a small reassuring smile his way before focusing back on your computer screen.

“It's fine. I wasn't alone this time.”

He perks up.

“Really?”

You hum in affirmation.

“I went out for tea and bumped into your friend Eren.”

Armin's jaw falls open.

“Huh. Well, what do you know? That's a crazy coincidence.” 

There's something suspicious about Armin's theatrical tone, but you're too engrossed in going over your email for typos to notice. You only manage to murmur a simple uh-huh. 

“What'd you talk about?”

You send off your email with a satisfied click and look up at Armin as you lean back in your chair.

“Just this and that,” you reply nonchalantly. 

His lips press into a dissatisfied line.

“Well, what do you think of him?” His eyes light up expectantly. 

“He's…” You lose yourself in thought for a moment. Images of blushing cheeks, boyish smiles, and shimmering green eyes flash through your memory. You remember the honey and his simple confessions. “... like a little kid.” 

Armin's face bears a mix of confusion and amusement.

“What do you mean by that?” 

A soft pensive hum vibrates through your throat.

“Dorky,” you reply firmly. 

Armin snorts, readying himself to come to Eren's defense, but you continue.

“He's… honest, like a little kid would be. And he's a little clumsy with his words but it's… Kind of endearing. He's a sweet guy.”

Armin nods along, his face serious. Finally, he smiles. 

“Sounds like you had a nice talk, then.”

Date proposal aside, your moment with Eren was enjoyable. Even taking your rejection into account, you didn't sense any resentment directed at you and that just further proved your pure perception of him.

It's not the first time you've been asked out. It's certainly not the first time you've said no — that's always been your response, albeit for different reasons. A few guys in the office have tried getting closer to you but, even if you were open to dating, you can always tell it's nothing genuine from their approach. Their overly kind performance just makes it easier for you to decline. Once that's been done, their creepy narcissistic truths come to light — you're stoned with sexist slurs and disgusted looks. It'd hurt more if you were still the kind of person who craves approval from the wrong people.

There's a clear difference between them and Eren. So even though you rejected him, you still wish to be close as friends. He's a nice person to know.

“I did,” you tell Armin.

There's a shimmer in your eyes he manages to catch. Your features are soft and serene as you prop your chin on one hand while you mindlessly scroll through your emails with the other. Your lips are shaped into a discreet smile. Like a kid.

On his way back to his cubicle on the opposite end of the floor, Armin hums a cheerful tune to himself. There's a proud bounce in every step he takes. 

“Armin, check your phone. It was buzzing like crazy a few minutes ago,” a female coworker says in passing before grabbing a manila folder from her desk and rushing off to a meeting room across the hall.

“Thanks, Mina!” he calls after her.

Armin taps the missed call notification on his screen and brings the phone to his ear, grinning expectantly.

“You suck,” Eren's voice comes through the speaker after the first ring.

“Woah, woah, woah. What did I do?” Armin laughs as he steps out onto the empty smoker's balcony. 

There’s a groan on the other end.

“What do you think? I crashed and burned.”

Armin’s face contorts in confusion. From what he could gather on your end, the coffee shop incident went well. You were smiling, and although the things you said about Eren didn’t seem like it, you meant them fondly — Armin knew you well enough to confidently confirm that. At the very least, it meant you weren’t completely repulsed by his company. Even if there are different sides to every story, the discrepancies shouldn’t be anything major.

“What are you talking about?” Armin sighs.

Another groan on Eren’s end. If Armin wasn’t so patient, he would’ve hung up. 

He really is like a little kid, he thinks.

“I asked her out and she said no.”

Armin’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. How could you keep that part out of the conversation you had earlier?

His shock doesn’t stem from your rejection, but rather because of Eren’s unexpected bravery. Although Eren was tough on the playground when they were kids, he grew up to be a fairly meek guy. When it comes to a girl he likes, he’s never been the bold type. Armin found it a bit strange at times. Eren’s had a track record of being popular among women, so his confidence should be over the roof and his personality, unbearable. But if he’s honest, it’s a good thing he doesn’t pay much attention to those things. It’s easier to root for a friend who only acts on more honest feelings. Even if that confidence didn’t stick with him.

“This is all your fault, Armin. So much for having my back.”

Even through the phone, Armin can tell his best friend is pouting. He has to hold back from rolling his eyes — it feels deceitful to do it behind his back when he has to play the role of a sympathetic friend right now. 

He rubs at his nape, unsure of whether he should feel proud of Eren for making a move or apologetic for not contemplating what seemed like a far-fetched risk. 

“To be fair, buddy, I didn’t send you over there to ask her out. I just thought you would like the chance to talk to her and get to know her a little better.”

“You couldn’t tell me that before? I don’t think I can ever face her again!” Eren half-yells.

Of course, Eren chooses to focus on the negatives. Armin cherry-picks the situations he meddles in. Even if it’ll serve as a confident boost to reveal to Eren what you said about him and how you said it, it could do him some good to bounce back on his own — and learn to pace himself. 

“First off, you have to relax an—”

“I can’t.” Eren’s voice is reduced to an embarrassed murmur. “She makes me nervous. I can’t help myself.”

There’s a long moment of silence. 

It’s been obvious from the start that Eren is attracted to you, but the near confession pulls at Armin’s heartstrings. It’s times like this when he’s reminded how cute Eren can be. 

“That bad, huh?” Armin smiles down at the people walking on the street.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not in love with her or anything but…”

There's a long pause on Eren's side, only disturbed by some light rustling as he moves his phone around.

“... I like looking at her… and I like hearing her talk. Do you ever notice how soft her voice is? There’s just something about it… There’s this thing with her eyes, too, it’s crazy.”

“Well, as long as you’re not falling in love with her.”

Eren releases a third groan.

“Armin, please. I just want to get closer to her. And I don’t want to make myself look like an idiot each time we’re alone. I wish there was something I could do to make her like me.” 

“I don’t think she dislikes you if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“She said she doesn’t see me that way. She just wants to be friends.”

Eren’s desolation is seeping through the phone now.

“Maybe I jumped the gun by asking her out so quickly.”

When Armin suggested Eren find you at the coffee shop during your lunch break, he figured it would help him get used to you. So that when the time came, he could ask you out without being more anxious than he needed to be. Had everything gone accordingly, Eren wouldn’t be moping now and wondering what would have happened — if anything was meant to happen — if he had just given you a little more time.

“Maybe,” Armin echoes.  

“Do you think I blew it?”

Armin shakes his head even though there’s no way for Eren to tell.

“I think you just got a little excited. You never know how she might feel later on.”

“I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. I hardly think she’ll like me any better if I act like those guys who can’t take no for an answer. I should just try being her friend.”

Armin wants to beg him not to feel discouraged — that there’s a reason why he was so excited to introduce you to each other, and why he teased him at the housewarming party after he caught him blushing while doing the dishes with you.

It didn’t start that way but, the more he got to know you, the more he thought you and Eren would be good together. 

Soft-spoken girl who keeps to herself meets the most dependable and kind-hearted boy.  

Armin would be lying if he said he wasn’t swayed by the promised satisfaction of playing matchmaker in the fantasy playing out in his head. Not that he felt you absolutely needed to get together. But he could feel it in his gut. You and Eren could do each other a lot of good. He already knew Eren would feel a pull upon meeting you and, if there’s anything he gathered from both sides of the coffee shop incident, it’s that you like Eren enough to let him stick around. It was a good call on your end, though he may be biased.

If you happen to fall in love along the way, then so be it.

“You’re a good guy, Eren. Everything will turn out fine.”

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[hinatastinygiant]

1 | Vdekja

Pairing: Uzui x Fem!Reader

The Emptiness You Left

"Y/N, I'm scared," your little sitter whispers to you as she clings onto your arm. The two of you and your younger brother sit in a small crate, listening to the sounds of screams and moans echo through the night.

"I know," you tell her, "I am too. But you can't cry." You put a finger to your lips to emphasize your point, looking at her tear-filled eyes. "Just look at Inosuke. Look at how brave he's being," you then say as you look at your brother who is sitting in the corner of the crate, his knees pulled up to his chest.

She nods, wiping her tears.

Suddenly, a loud shriek rings in your ears and the sound of something being dragged away follows. She begins to sniffle again and you have to shush her once more. "Hey, hey, look at me," you tell her. "Everything will be okay. Just trust me, alright?"

"B-but we're going to all get separated!" she exclaims.

You're about to tell her that's not true when the door to your crate suddenly slams open and a pair of hands reach in and grab you by the hair. You're pulled out and meet face-to-face with a blond man with the wildest eyes you've ever seen before. You're pretty sure they look like rainbows, but you're probably just seeing things.

He pulls you to your feet and pushes you against the outside of the crate. He then stares at you in what you can only describe as hatred and anger.

But when he speaks, you hear the complete opposite, and it makes your head spin even faster. "Who are you?" he asks softly.

"Y/N, sir," you answer.

"What are you doing here?" he then asks.

"M-my family got evicted from where we were staying and we had no choice but to go out on the streets. We've been there for almost a week, and then some people came and grabbed us," you explain, hoping that he'll understand why you're in the situation you're in. Maybe he's not as bad as you thought.

"And your parents?" he questions, leaning so close to you that you can see your reflection in his eyes.

"They're...they're dead," you whisper.

He pauses and looks back to the crate. "You have two little ones with you, too? Such a good big sister you are," he says.

Your face begins to heat up. "It's my duty as an older sibling."

"I understand," he sighs, taking a step back. "I'm not going to kill you, Y/N. You don't have to be so afraid. In fact, I am going to take all three of you with me. Does that sound okay?"

You nod slowly, your hands shaking. You don't have any reason to doubt him, so you'll just trust him. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," he tells you, grabbing your hand and dragging you along. "Come along, now."

"But...what about them?" you ask.

"Don't worry, they're coming with us," he reassures. "Come on, now you two! Hurry up or you'll get left behind!"

As the two of you walk away, your little brother and his sitter crawl out of the crate and follow behind the two of you. The four of you then make your way into a car, and as soon as you're all inside, the driver takes off.

"So," the man starts, "where do you live?"

"Nowhere," your brother scoffs quietly, earning a nudge in the arm from you.

"What my brother means to say is that we were living in an abandoned building. It's gone now, though," you explain, hoping that the man won't question any further.

"How tragic," he mutters. "And your parents? When did they die?"

"A long time ago," you answer as you look down at your little sister. "Right after my sister was born. There was an attack. Both of our parents died and we were sent to an orphanage. Until they kicked us out because of my age."

The man nods, "I understand. You're an adult now, so you're no longer a child."

"But Y/N is my sister," your little sister cries. "You can't just sell her off like that!"

The man laughs softly and leans forward to pat your little sister on her head. "Don't worry, dear, that's not what I intend on doing."

"I-it's not?" she questions.

"Of course not," he smiles, and you can't help but feel slightly uncomfortable. "You three will be staying with me until further notice. I have a big home, too. It's called Eternal Paradise Faith."

"Woah," she gleams. "What's it like?"

"Well, it's a big building for people who have nowhere else to go," he tells her. "I'm the leader of it."

"So...we'll be working for you?" you ask.

"Only if you want to," he replies just as the car goes over a bump. Your stomach churns, and for a second you think you're going to be sick. "Do not worry, this is just a short ride. We're almost there."

Sure enough, you arrive at a large building shortly after. When you get inside, you are all given the same clothes and brought into separate rooms to sleep.

The rainbow-eyed man comes to check in on you that night with a plate of food. "I know you must be starving," he says as he sets the plate down next to you.

"I'm not very hungry," you mumble.

"You don't have to lie," he smiles, his hands in his pockets.

"I just want to see my siblings," you explain.

"And you will, after the three of you get a good night's sleep," he says, walking to the door. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Wait," you call out just as he reaches the door.

"Yes?"

"What's your name?" you ask.

"Doma."

You pause for a moment. "Thank you, Doma."

"No need to thank me. You should be thanking the one who gave me this opportunity," he tells you before disappearing into the hall. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

That night, you struggle to sleep. Although the mattress you're on is extremely comfortable, your mind is racing and your stomach is twisting and turning. You can't imagine how your younger siblings are feeling. So, you decide to sneak out of your room and quietly sneak down the hallway to find them.

It doesn't take long until you hear the sounds of your little sister crying. You whisper her name and quietly step in her room. Immediately, she wraps her arms around you and begins to cry harder.

"It's okay," you soothe, hugging her tightly.

"I-I'm scared," she sniffles.

"Don't be. We're going to be alright," you tell her. "This is a good place for us to stay for now. It's like living with a rich person."

"But..." she hiccups, "will we still see each other?"

"Yes," you smile, remember that's what Doma promised you earlier. "After we get some rest."

"And what about Inosuke?" she then asks, referring to your brother.

"I'll check on him next," you promise. "I'll make sure both of you are alright."

"Okay," she smiles. "Can you stay with me tonight?"

"I don't think so," you shake your head apologetically. "I'm sorry."

"No, please, Y/N. You have to stay!" she shouts, grabbing tighter onto you.

"Let go! Stop being so loud. We're going to get in trouble!" you say.

"No we're not! No one is even out here," she says.

"Just let me go. I'll come back, I promise," you say, trying to remove her little hands but she continues to dig her nails into your arm so hard that you begin to bleed.

"Get off of me!" you yell.

"No!" she cries.

You sigh, "If you don't let me go, I won't come back!"

"I don't care!" she screams, letting you go and falling onto her bed.

Just then, you hear a rumbling noise grow closer and closer until the door flies open and Doma appears. He looks taller than he was before, taking up more space in the doorway than you remember. His multicolored eyes glow down at the two of you.

Instinctfully, you grab your sister tight just as Doma comes bounding closer, his face twisted and demonic. Your sister screams and Doma reaches for her. You try to shield her with your body, but you're thrown aside by his strength and land on the floor.

He grabs your sister by her ankles and drags her towards the door. She kicks and screams, begging for help, but he doesn't seem to care.

"Stop!" you shout as you stand back up. But before you can get close enough, he's holding her up in the air with one hand. You feel disoriented by the horrible sight before you. Your sister isn't just hanging upside down, her head is completely turned backwards and she is completely covered in her own blood.

"No!"

The Emptiness You Left

[lokis-army-77]

Summoning part 7

Demon!Eddie Munson x female reader

Word Count: 2120

The reader faces the cruel consequences of saying "I love you" to the demon.

Warning: 18+ angst, Demon Eddie being mean, unprotected sex,

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I let out a shaky breath, looking up into his hardened stare. It was amazing how fast his whole demeanor had changed.

"I-i love you." I gulped out, eyebrows furrowed in worry. 

He visibly recoiled, pulling himself away from me and climbing off the bed.

"You are not allowed to do that." He stood tall in front of me.

"But I can't help how I feel." 

"Then put your feelings in check." He snapped, facial features hard. 

"Please," I reached out to him.  I could feel the tears of rejection pooling in my eyes. 

"That is not what this is. This" He gestured with his hands between us, "this is not a relationship or whatever your puny little human mind has conjured up. This is you serving me as I told you you would be from the very beginning. You are were to obey me, not developed feelings."

"Then what was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to not fall for you when you saved me from being sacrificed or when you talk to me so sweetly like you aren't a demon from the bowels of hell like you're just a man?"

Tears were flowing down my face now and even though the morning light was warm against my bare skin all I felt was cold.

“It is not my fault you misunderstood.” He turned away from me, looking to the door of my room then turned back around, eyes boring into mine. “I henceforth release you from your servitude. I will no longer visit you.” 

It was like an arrow had been shot through my chest. A pain so unreal filled my body and I cried out in agony. I could feel that invisible bond that had drawn me into him disappear and yet the feelings of love remained. 

Gasping through the pain, I cried out to him. “Severing me from you will not make me stop loving you. What’s done is done, you have my heart completely, just don’t go.”

He stood stiff, wings flaring out behind him in anger. “Stop it. Stop saying that.” He hissed, bearing his teeth. 

It was scary to see him like that but I held my ground even as tears fell down my cheeks. 

“Why? Why is it so bad if I love you?” I maneuvered myself up onto my knees so that he would not be looking down at me so severely. 

Rage marred his features as he spits out his next words. “Because I do not want you to.” 

He didn’t give me time to argue back with him, instead, he vanished like always, leaving me to stare into the empty space which he once took up. 

I was angry more than I was sad. Who was he to dictate how I felt about him? Standing from the bed, I stomped my way into the bathroom across the hall and took a shower in seething silence. 

Pissed could not begin to describe my mood for the rest of the day. Thankfully no one was home to witness my dramatic slamming of doors and cabinets. Nothing could calm me down as I sat and my thoughts festered around how much I absolutely hated the demon right now. 

My thoughts had not stopped even when it was time to go to bed. 

I tossed and turned in my sheets, body hot under the covers. Sleep did not come easy, looking at my alarm clock on my bedside table it was 3:15 A.M. Groaning, I buried my face in my pillow.   

Hesitantly my hand reached out to the necklace the demon had given me. It was now the one thing I had left of him. The anger which had boiled in me all day simmered down, leaving me a sad and empty shell. 

I stared out into the darkness of my room, fist clenched around the red jewel. The tears I had worked so hard to get under control in the shower sprang forth again and cascaded down my cheeks. I cried and cried until my head hurt, clinging to the thoughts of the demon and our last night together. 

I missed him desperately, more than the times he had left before. I knew now that I was alone, that he was never coming back to me, all because I had to tell him how I felt. 

“I’m so fucking stupid,” I said aloud into the night. “So stupid.” 

Sleep finally came in the early hours of the morning when the sun had yet to pierce the horizon. And with sleep, came dreams. 

…………

The edges of my vision were blurry and the world look familiar yet strange all at once. I was in a dark hallway with a singular door standing shut at the end of it. My heart beat fast in my chest as my instincts told me not to go any closer than I already was but my feet had other plans. They took me further and further down the hallway only stopping when I reached the end. 

Hesitantly I reached out for the golden handle, even though it was dark, it still gleamed as if light were shining directly on it. With a twist of the wrist and a small shove, I opened the door. Blinded by a flash of white light, I stumbled backward only to be caught by a pair of large hands. 

I could not turn my head to see who had caught me. The hands pushed me gently through the door into a dim candle-lit room. The red brick of the walls looked intimidating in the flickering light of the many candelabras scattered about the room. In the center of the room, on a dais between two large pillars, was a humongous bed pushed back against the wall. Black and red curtains flowed down around the bed from a rather gothic-looking canopy. 

Although the room looked like something from medieval times and gave off an eerie look with all the blacks and reds, I felt comfortable. Like I belonged here in this room, with whatever had its hands gently pushing into my back. 

I was led forward by the unknown hands and helped up the stairs of the dais. Then, I turned around, eyes meeting with an all too familiar pair. 

The demon smiled at me in what coil only be described as a loving way. “Hello little one,” He said, taking my hands in his, rubbing the backs of them with his thumbs. 

My heart lurched for him and so did my body. In an instant I had my arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into me for a tight hug. He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist and nuzzled his nose into my hair. 

“You left me.” I cried into his chest, tears tickling my cheeks as they fell. 

His hands smoothed over my hair and he shooshed me quietly. “Do not be a sad little one, you are here with me now.” Then his fingers slowly moved their way down my body. He undressed me one article of clothing at a time as opposed to his usual magic snap of the fingers. 

I looked up at him and allowed his thumbs to whip the tears away. Leaning up on my tiptoes, I kissed him. We moved together in the fuzzy haze of the world until we were lying on the bed. I placed my hands on his chest and pushed oh nim slightly. He followed my silent direction and fell over onto his back, pulling me on top of him.

He stared up at me straddling him, eyed bright in the dim lighting, and hair tousled about the duvet. Even though everything felt dreamy and unreal, the hardness which was under me could not be mistaken.

Hesitantly I started to rock my hips back onto him, feeling every bump and ridge of his cock against the wet slit of my pussy. Never had he let me ride him before, I had never really tried to or even asked, but in this real world, he was all too eager to have me atop him. 

His long slender fingers held tightly onto my hips, helping me to grind down onto him. I couldn’t help but gasp as his tip pressed against my clit. I used my hands to balance myself, using his chest as sturdy support. I was entranced by the feelings stirring in me; want, need, love, the complete and utter mesmerization of his dark comforting eyes, and the glint of the rings piercing his nipples. 

I skimmed my fingernails over his pecks before pinching each nipple between my fingers. He grunted as I gently tugged on them, bucking his hips up into me as I continued. He also gripped me tighter as I rubbed the hardened buds, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on each of them. 

“Quit playing,” he growled, I just shook my head and giggled, latching my mouth onto him. My teeth nipped at the skin and metal before I began to suck as he once did to my own nipples. 

I grinned around him in triumph as he writhed under my touch. Hips bucking upwards in search of more friction as well as hands working me down onto him. 

“Fuck.” I mumbled, “Need you inside me.” 

No later than I had let those words fall from my mouth then he hand his cock in hand and went in search of my entrance. I lifted myself up off of him, mouth leaving his skin with a lewd pop. Reaching between us, I helped him to find where to go and once he had, I lowered myself down. 

Reaching back behind me, I supported myself on his thighs. My head lulled back as he filled me, his tip reaching some place far inside. 

“You always feel so fucking good inside me,” I moaned, chest pushed out, nipples pert and aching in the surprisingly cool air of the room. 

“And you always feel like heaven around my cock, little one.” His fingers scraped up my thighs, over my stomach, and landed on my breasts, cupping them, fondling them. 

I arched more into him, loving it as he let me rid him and he played with the pillowy flesh of my chest. 

“I love you,” I cried as I sped up my movements. I was only brave enough to say it aloud again because this was a dream, a dream that felt like every touch of his skin against my own was as real as if I were awake. 

“I know,” he cooed, grunting when my cunt clenched around him at his soft words. 

My climax was barreling its way to the surface as I continued to spear myself onto his incredibly hard cock. With toes curling and fists secured tightly on his thighs, I let the high flush over me. It felt like it reared its head quickly and yet felt like it took years to pass by. 

His hands held me as my body shook over him, cunt creaming around his cock, spasming with every little movement of him inside. Gently he unsheathed himself from he and leaned on his side to watch my tired body. 

I watched him through lidded eyes, shivering as his fingers traced patterns into my skin. I did not realize I had been frowning until his thumb smoothed over my brow before his lips kissed the spot he had touched. 

“Do not fret, I will be back.”

“When?” I asked, anxious to know. 

“In time. I can not stay away from you for very long.” 

..........

As he spoke the blurry edges of my vision started to expand and in a blink, of an eye, it was like I had tunnel vision. He was still talking though as I reached out for him, his word was becoming more and more muffled. The last thing I heard as his voice became unclear was, “I do lo-” He was cut off and my vision went completely dark. 

I woke with a jolt, hands reaching out across my bed in search of another body only to find the sheets cold and void of any life. Sighing I thought about the dream I had just had. The details were foggy but I remembered being with him, with my demon. 

New tears began to well in my eyes before I blinked them away. No, I would not cry, I would be strong. If he was too much of a coward to stay then I would not waste my thoughts on him. 

“He does not care for you,” I told myself as I began getting ready for the long day ahead, “Don’t dwell on him.”

Eddie Taglist: @loveofmylife12@ellabellabus07@wickedwitchofwest@siriusstwelveyears@ameliakf13 @milly-louise @darkscrossfire @harrypotter-posts @dedeinspire @ccosmic-illusion @eddiesbirdie @castiels-gracex @luvwanda @whimsywisher @wool-hat7 @callsignthunder @corrodedhawkins @stefans-wife @wool-hat7 @bookfrog242 @hellv1ra@f4erietaless@kenzi-woycehoski@mandyjf @harrys-tittie

Summoning Taglist: @alana4610 @ghostqueenofthedamned @simp2537 @sammararaven @akiratoro420 @my-malachai-stilinski @izhetttttt @raptorbait529 @e0509 @munsonxmayhem @yappydoo @boofy1998 @sleepy-bunnie

[bookofmirth]

Since you think ACOTAR5 may be Azriel's POV at the start of the crossover (and you make a very good case for this), but I'm curious how do you think Gwyn's POV (or Elain's) would work in between his chapters? Both of them were completely absent from the crossover events. We know the next two novels are traditional romances with alternating POVs, similar to ACOSF.

Hello! Since @myfriendscallmeraba had a similar question about pov on my prison post and whether we would "need" Nesta's pov, I thought I would tackle both issues here!

First off, here is my post about how acotar5 might begin, for reference. I know this is what you were responding to, I'm just throwing it out there!

So, I use the term "pov" pretty fast and loose because that's how the fandom refers to it, and because saying "third person close, omniscient narrator who focuses on specific characters" is too much of a mouthful to say every time.

Since acotar is now in third person, there are central characters and the narrator follows some of them more closely, but it is not limited in the way that it was when Feyre was the first-person narrator. In fact, in acosf, we were privy to Gwyn's thoughts:

Roslin, Ananke, and Deirdre were close on their heels, propelling Gwyn to push her group harder. She wanted to be the first. Wanted Nesta and Emerie and her to be the ones who wiped the smirks from Azriel’s and Cassian’s faces. Especially Azriel’s.

This whole section is actually quite removed from most of the characters and is describing the Valkyries' experience of going through the obstacle course. The sentences I have highlighted above are Gwyn's thoughts. They are not being told to us because Nesta is hearing them, and in fact, the whole scene is being told at a remove. It's not being filtered through any one characters' perspective, but is "above" them, so to speak, discussing them all:

More of the priestesses cut the ribbon—Roslin. Deirdre. Ananke. Ilana. Lorelei. Everything Azriel and Cassian threw at them, they took and threw right back.

Since sjm has switched to this narrative style, it's not outside the realm of possibility that the narrator back away from the action a bit, providing us with a specific character's thoughts at one point, and then giving us a broader view of the scene in the next.

In my completely gwynriel and elucien-biased opinion, I think that Gwyn is actually going to be present in the crossover parts, when the narrator follows Az. In that original post, I noted that we have a few gaps in our knowledge right now:

How the IC reacted to Bryce landing and how they decided what to do with her (she went from the river house and with no discussion, UtM?)

How they make use of Merrill's research (which Gwyn is familiar with)

Rhys telling the IC that he had been aware of this possibility

How they react to this new info about their history

And in all of those instances, other characters could/should be present in, besides Az and Nesta.

I definitely think that it's possible for sjm to bypass that whole bit and just give a "previously on acotar: other planets are real" infodump. But even if she were to do that, she could easily incorporate Gwyn and Nesta into the story in the same ways that Emerie, Gwyn, and Azriel were incorporated into Nesta's.

So then the implications for Nesta having such a huge presence in Azriel's book are pretty simple to me; she will be a friend to him in ways that the IC has been unable to. They clearly approach him with kid gloves and are super hesitant to ask him questions they think will trigger his anger. Nesta has proven that she understands Az on a deeper level that perhaps the IC can't. They are too close to him and have been for a long time.

We also saw their closeness in hofas. Az and Nesta's friendship has reached a deeper level than we saw before.

Then there is the fact that the Valkyries and Illyrians are going to keep training together. And my idea for the Prison in the next book.

I think that even though yes, each book focuses on one couple, and yes, there is one main character with a love interest, that doesn't preclude other characters from being important. We wouldn't say that Eris was inconsequential to acosf, or Emerie, or Feyre, or Gwyn. They all had a role to play, and by using third person omniscient, sjm has made it much easier for her to incorporate them without it having to be filtered through the main character's pov.

I hope that this makes sense! I think there's a lot of confusion in the fandom about voice and perspective, but if anything, the way sjm has switched to third person for the series makes it more possible for us to see the bigger picture - including other characters' involvement.

[personasdestinyy]

Sorrowful Love | Ch#4 | JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; All he desires is vengeance.

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: thriller, angst, love at first sight, au! sexting

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x Sena oc!

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: This story contains explicit language, graphic violence(murders, blood etc), and other mature content, If you are easily affected by such themes, it might be best to avoid reading it.

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.8k+

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭⇢

Jungkook's Pov:

After my encounter with that weird girl, the first thought that crossed my mind was, 'What a strange girl!'. Despite my efforts to suppress it, a smile involuntarily crept onto my lips. It was as if her eccentricity had a contagious effect on me, leaving me both bewildered and amused.

'Fuck'

Women don't usually bewilder me, and I'm not easily amused by girly things or their peculiar behaviors. However, against all odds, she managed to bring a small smile to my face. I can't believe how?

Later on, I decided to buy Geworin tablets, for myself. As I paid for the medication and walked out of the pharmacy, I just hoped that this medication would provide some relief, a glimmer of hope to lift my spirits.

After buying medicine, I make my way back home through the familiar streets. I unlock the door, step inside, and head straight to the kitchen to fetch a water bottle. With the pill in hand and a glass of water, I swallow it down and feel a sense of relief washing over me.

Feeling slightly better, I make my way to the art gallery, constructed in the basement. Bending down, I retrieve the hidden key from beneath the carpet and walk over to a large canvas. With a bit of effort, I lift the canvas and set it aside, revealing a hidden door. Inserting the key into the lock, I hear the satisfying click as it opens. I then tuck the key back into the right pocket of my pants and swing the door open.

As I step into the room, my eyes immediately gravitate towards the images that I've meticulously taped on the wall. These images represent the people who have caused me immense pain and anger. With a mix of hate and disdain, I take a moment to glance at each one, feeling a surge of emotions coursing through my veins. It's as if the mere sight of these individuals ignites a fire within me, causing my blood to boil and wanting me to end these people's lives right now.

With a sense of determination, I reach for a file sitting on the table nearby.

However, before I can even open the file, the familiar ring of my phone interrupts the moment. I place the file back on the table and smoothly retrieve my phone from the right pocket of my pants. Glancing at the caller ID, I see an unfamiliar number flashing on the screen.

Considering the limited number of contacts I have saved in my phone, I deduce that this call must be related to an order I've been expecting. I answer the call, And a soft voice greets me on the other end, belonging to a girl who seems eager to speak.

"Ah, hello," she says, her voice carrying a sense of excitement. "I'd like to order a painting."

Intrigued by her request, I find myself momentarily forgetting about the images on the wall and the file on the table. Instead, I focus my attention on this individual on the other side of the phone.

I asked the girl on the phone, "Can you share with me your emotions?"

In response, she started to speak rapidly, expressing, "I am overwhelmed with emotions at the moment, and I find it hard to put them into words. I am also curious about understanding my emotions, which is why I am interested in this artwork. I am eager to explore the range of emotions I am experiencing. Let me begin to describe them to you. Please make a note of them, okay? I am feeling a mix of despair, happiness, and fear right now. I crave love in my life, yet there are moments when I feel like I can do without it. I am puzzled by my own emotions. Just capture all of this," she paused, taking a deep breath.

I couldn't help but chuckle as I jotted down her array of emotions.

"I will do my best. I will let you know once it's done," I assured her.

"Oh my goodness, thank you so much! I am beyond grateful. I don't know how to repay you. Oh, I almost forgot to ask, how much will this painting cost?"She immediately exclaimed, and her words made me giggle for some reason.

"Why are you laughing?" she inquired with a soft voice. "Is the cost really that high that it's beyond my means?"

Responding to her concerns, I offered reassurance, "No, it's not as expensive as you think. Depending on how you feel, the price ranges around xxx ."

Relieved by my response, she let out a sigh and said, "Thank goodness, I can afford it."

"By the way, could you please share your name with me so I can recognize you when you come for the painting?" I asked.

After a brief pause, she ended the call with a contemplative "hmm." Meanwhile, I found myself simply staring at the screen of my phone, unsure of what to do next. Suddenly, a message from her appeared on the screen, breaking the silence.

Curiosity piqued, I eagerly opened the message and read the words,

"'Natasha' is my name."

Reading those four words repeatedly, I sensed that she had given me a false name. Her peculiar actions brought a chuckle to my lips as I securely tucked my phone back into the left pocket of my pants.

5:30pm

I decided to take a leisurely stroll through the nearby neighborhood park. As I step outside, I inhale deeply, allowing the fresh evening air to fill my lungs. The park is bathed in a soft golden glow as the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the grass.

I start my walk, my footsteps echoing softly on the pavement. As I make my way through the park, I take in the sights and sounds around me. The chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze, and the distant laughter of children playing in the playground.

As I continue my stroll, my gaze sweeps across the park, taking in the various scenes unfolding before me. And then, something catches my eye. A young child, full of energy and excitement, dashing towards his parents. His tiny legs carry him swiftly, his face beaming with joy.

I watch as his mother, with open arms, scoops him up into a warm embrace, showering him with kisses. His father, standing nearby, can't help but pinch his cheeks affectionately.

Unbeknownst to me, a single tear escapes my eye, rolling down my cheek. I quickly turn my head, hoping no one notices, and take a few deep breaths to compose myself. And decide it's time to head back home.

After arriving home, I made my way to the room that I had meticulously designed to resemble the gallery. As I entered, I couldn't help but notice that my heartbeat was racing at an alarming rate. The mere thought of them sent shivers down my spine, making me want to let out a scream. I desperately tried to push them out of my mind, not wanting to dwell on the memories.

However, it seemed that my heart had a mind of its own today. It stubbornly refused to listen to reason, reminding me of just how much I missed them.

As I swung open the door, a heavy sigh escaped my lips. Once again, the sight of the pictures I had taped on the walls came into view, causing my heart to boil with burning rage. The sorrow of losing my parents because of them, the anger towards these fuckers who took them away from me, makes me want to rip their hearts out from their chests.

I clenched my fists, my knuckles turning white as I fought the urge to tear my hair out. The anger pulsated through my veins, turning my face a deep shade of crimson.

I took a deep breath, hoping to calm the storm raging inside me, but it seemed futile, but memories flooded my mind with fragments of cherished memories. Each glimpse brought forth a rush of emotions, reminding me of all the wonderful experiences and time I had shared with them. Unable to contain my sorrow any longer, a tear escaped my eye and trickled down my cheek, mirroring the intensity of my pounding heart.

Tears cascade down my cheeks as I release a loud scream, scattering every file which is on the table, unable to control my patience, my beating heart, my boiling blood. I collapsed onto the floor, my elbows resting on my knees, my hands still clutching at my hair. The tears continued to flow, my other hand automatically moving to cover my heart. "Mom, Dad, the pain of missing you is too much to bear," I cry uncontrollably.

"The idea of facing this harsh world without you fills me with dread and hopelessness."

I clench my fists and begin to hit my chest, as if attempting to physically ease the emotional pain.

"Mom Dad, the agony is overwhelming. It's tearing me apart," I murmur, my voice quivering with each word spoken to them, even if only in my mind.

After what seems like an endless period of tears and grief, I eventually pull myself together and try to regain control of my emotions.

It was the final moment that my tears fell for them, my heart consumed by a single, intense emotion: hatred. Hatred for those who snatched my parents away from me, who tore apart the fabric of our lives with their cruel actions.

I made a solemn vow. I vowed on the memory of my dead parents, who had taught me the values of love, loyalty, and justice, the emotions I think I've lost now that I would not rest now until every person of his family met their end.

I reach into my pocket and retrieve my mobile phone. With a trembling hand from anger, I wipe away the remnants of tears that have stained my cheeks, a testament to the pain and anger that have fueled my desire for revenge. The time has come, and I can no longer contain my eagerness to witness their fear, to see them tremble before me.

Unlocking my phone, I navigate to my contacts and search for the person who has trained me for this moment of revenge. In the past, I had severed this connection, needing time to heal but I didn't heal. And now, I am ready to unleash the fury that has been brewing inside me.

With a deep breath, I press the call icon next to their name. The sound of the ringing fills my ears, echoing the anticipation that courses through my veins. One ring... Two rings... Three rings... Finally, the call is answered on the other end.

Taking a moment to steady myself, I speak into the phone, my voice filled with determination and resolve. "I'm ready, Suga hyung."

© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲𝐲 (𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝)

[starbornsoulrider]

once again thinking about the Halo Fucking Dies scene that I made up in my brain where Halo follows in Aideen's footsteps and sacrifices themself to restore life to Jorvik and THIS TIME!! i'm thinking about the dark riders' reaction

in the Halo Canon (TM) the dark riders do get redeemed im not sure how yet. but somehow, Halo managed to make them think that maybe earth wasn't so bad, maybe they could have a life here after all, and maybe they were fucking Tired from fighting for so. so long for a being that doesn't even give a shit about them. either they help in the fight against garnok, or they finally realize they don't want this halfway through and turn sides in the middle of the battle. like i said still not. exactly sure how it plays out and it'll probably be better than how i'm describing it rn but THAT'S NOT THE POINT!!

once the battle concludes, there was just too much damage done to the fragile barrier between Jorvik and Pandoria, and at this rate even with Garnok gone they're both bound to just swallow and destroy each other. everyone thinks they've failed, until- Halo slowly begins to disappear, slowly dissipating into tiny bits of light. Fripp sadly realizes what is happening, and tells everyone that in order to mend the tears and restore both worlds Halo must sacrifice their life-giving light the way Aideen did.

the soul riders, of course, are devastated. they crowd around Halo as they start to fade away, holding their hands and beg them not to go. Halo's accepted it, so they're thanking everyone for everything.

in the background, the dark riders stand, just. watching. not sure of what to do.

Katja feels empty. nothing unusual for her, but somehow this time the emptiness is different. heavier. this feeling she doesn't like settles in her as she watches Halo disappear. she can't put words to it, but she can't make it go away. so she just continues watching.

Jay looks confused, frustrated. this can't be fair. her composure falters. this can't be right, can it? the brat fought so hard for this stupid island, for their annoying little friends, only to die for it? it sparks this anger in here, but she knows she can't do anything about it- so she, too, just watches.

Sabine’s hit the hardest. she doesn’t look like it, but she is. out of all the dark riders Halo’s relationship with Sabine was the most complicated one but also the deepest running one. they went from bitter rivals, to full blown nemesis’s after Sabine tried and almost succeeded in killing Buddy, to mutual respect, to having a sort of “maybe we could’ve been friends in a different life” thing. and then, before all this, it seemed like maybe it wouldn’t have to be a in a different life after all. but that chance has been ripped away, and she’s still processing it. for the first time the full brunt of realizing Halo matters to her is hitting and she doesn’t know what to do about it because it’s too late.

and idk about Elise/whatever the fourth one’s name is now I’m not. super attached to her. I’ll think of smth when we actually get to know her in game ig

anyways I’M INSANE!!! and for the record I’m not allowed to clarify whether this scene is canon or just an idea :)

[jd104]

Sibling Relationships in "Walking on a Star Unknown"

Like Segawa's other games, "Walking on a Star Unknown" is heavy on themes of trauma. Despite the relatively light tone of the game, the natives of Calpucca still haven't forgotten the Starling War, and spirits still linger in Yunerium and Fort Baobab, unable to move on due to their hate, fear, and anger. Some Calpuccans are still wary of aliens, like the king himself, Giera Toph.

Some traumas, however, are present on a smaller — yet no less significant — scale, such as the death of a parent. (Now that I think about it, where are all the parents in this game??) In this meta, I will examine the parallels between three sibling relationships, the way Segawa integrates trauma into them as a theme, and how the relationships present by the end of the game.

Spoilers ahead!

Eddie and Fukuro

First up, our main characters. Right off the bat, we can see that the two of them have a very healthy relationship: They address each other with terms of affection, complement each other's abilities and weaknesses, and have each other's backs no matter what. They're nearly inseparable throughout the main game, and in the bonus room, if you ask Eddie as Twelam whether he's lonely without Fukuro, he readily admits that, "to be honest," he is. The two even sleep and bathe together, which Twelam is shocked by.

The Owul siblings rarely get mad at each other, except for when Eddie apparently takes food from Fukuro. Overall, they exhibit secure attachment to their late mother (in whose memory they're travelling the cosmos) and each other. Attachment styles describe patterns of how a person interacts with their relationships, beginning in childhood and extending into adulthood; as adults, individuals with secure attachment:

Have trusting, lasting relationships

Tend to have good self-esteem

Share feelings with partners and friends

Seek out social support

(VeryWellMind)

Given the sheer amount of friends they make on Calpucca, their trust in one another, and their deep love for their mother, we can see that Eddie and Fukuro fulfil points 1 and 4. They rarely ever show self-doubt or low self-esteem and are always up for the challenge, demonstrating point 2. And the Owul siblings pretty freely express themselves to others even with Fukuro's naturally reserved nature, demonstrating point 3. The Owul siblings are a really healthy pair of siblings, which has undoubtedly helped them prop each other up after the loss of their mother. Thanks to the immense love and care they grew up with, they are happy, healthy kids who protect each other from harm and difficulty. Even when things happen to them that are frightful or disturbing (such as the hallucinations in Yunerium or Nuage), they don't appear to remain fazed after the event. One can only imagine the methods they have of cheering each other up if the other ever feels scared or down.

Rius and Toph

By contrast, Rius and Toph, the royals of Calpucca, have a somewhat tense relationship at the beginning of the game. Part of this may be the much larger age gap between them — Rius is 27 while Toph is 13, so there's nearly a generation between them — but as we learn with each passing day, the real issue is Toph's distrust of aliens. Rius, of course, is married to one.

Rius and Toph's relationship is, in my opinion, particularly fascinating due to the role trauma plays in it. Pretty much all of the hurt lands in Toph's court, which we'll discuss later on — but also, intergenerational trauma plays a big role in why they can't see eye to eye. Rius, an independent-minded, optimistic woman who self-admittedly lives for love, forfeits her royal privileges when she marries the alien Daios after he wins the Gourmate Cooking Tournament; in her opinion, it's high time they adopt a more progressive outlook, in part because she wants Toph to accept her and Daios for who they are. Toph, on the other hand, would have been taught as the future ruler of Calpucca what aliens had done to his people and his planet during the invasion of Megalopolis, and from what I understand, xenophobia has been a recurring theme with Calpucca's rulers, not just with Toph. With this history lesson firmly established, Rius eloping with Daios must have been a confirmation of the things he had learnt. "Aliens are dangerous. One has even stolen my sister!"

At the time Rius left, Toph would have also been eight — a tender age to be abandoned by an older sibling, one he obviously looks up to. As children, we are often ill-equipped to process everything we're feeling, and we see that in Toph, too. We see that he does feel abandoned, because he keeps muttering to himself that he wishes Rius would come back to live at the castle. He asks — borderline demands — this of her whenever they meet, and she draws a firm boundary every time: "I love you, but I can't lie to you or myself about what I want." Just like how his understanding of the past prevents Toph from showing goodwill towards aliens, Toph's desire for how things were before Rius left prevents him from seeing the potential of reconnecting with her in the present. It's not until the Owul siblings lend a hand that the situation is able to change, and Toph himself remarks on the nature of the Owuls' relationship several times, unable to help being reminded of his sister.

Happily, the two are able to reconcile by the end of the game due to a family crisis (and some cats) pulling them together, and we see the surest sign of progress between them in the Bonus Room: Rius and Daios have a daughter, the result of love between a royal and an alien, and "Unca Toph" is just as concerned for her well-being and future as he would be his sister's.

Guntram and Twelam

Where Fukuro and Eddie are close siblings, and Rius and Toph would be close if not for Toph's stubbornness and unwillingness to change, Guntram and Twelam are completely dysfunctional and probably always will be. These two are my favourite, as will soon become apparent, but just so you know, I have a personal hypothesis that Segawa designed these two to be foils to the Owul siblings. After all:

Both sibling pairs have incredibly similar designs to each other. (Rius and Toph too, but the resemblance is lessened by the age difference.)

Both sibling pairs are four years apart (Eddie and Fukuro: 17 and 13; Guntram and Twelam: 32 and 28).

Both have an older brother and a younger sister.

Eddie and Fukuro's main colour is red, while Guntram and Twelam's is green (complementary colours).

Both sibling pairs have recently lost a parent (the Owuls their mother, the Hamelins their father).

Eddie and Fukuro have a stable, securely attached sibling relationship, while Guntram and Twelam... don't.

Despite their many similarities (music as a career, love of children, taste in style/fashion, the same tendency to get lost in thought, deep loneliness), there's no sense of warmth or intimacy between the Hamelins at all. Where Eddie and Fukuro are inseparable, you meet the two of them conducting their own independent investigations on Day 2 in Sirene — they even view each other as competition! Though they live in the same house, they rarely occupy the same room, and they don't intersect much in their professional careers. Eddie's and Fukuro's differences make up for where the other is weak or not as skilled; Guntram and Twelam's differences are sources of tension, with Guntram thinking Twelam is too wild and impulsive and Twelam thinking Guntram is stuffy, timid, and gloomy. To really hammer it in, they live in the always-cold northern town of Eluta, where their parents' legacy haunts them.

And yet — one gets the sense that they do care about each other, if they can't exactly show it. Guntram nags Twelam, trying to look after her in his own way. When she has complaints about Guntram, Twelam will air them, but she's not so straightforward when she's concerned for him: "Oshino misses him," she'll say. Or she'll lash out in anger, threatening to burn down everything he cares for so that he can move on.

Because there is something for the two of them to move on from, an intergenerational trauma on a smaller scale than Toph and the Starling War: their relationship with, and the death of, their parents. After his wife's death, Guntram's father became punishing to the point that Guntram abandoned his own interests and dreams out of deference; he loves, fears, and respects his father, as even at 32 he's struggling to find a direction in life he can call his own. The siblings' mother died shortly after Twelam was born, meanwhile; she grew up emotionally neglected, with her brother being the main focus of their father's tutelage and no memory of the same warmth and kindness her brother remembers of Meryl. The two are not close because they were never taught to be; Guntram was pushed and pushed to become the best musician he could, while Twelam took off in her own direction and was praised for her assertiveness.

As you get closer to the Hamelin siblings, their arcs involve little of each other at all: Instead, Guntram realises his dream of putting on a children's concert, while Twelam is finally able to grasp the piece in her family history she always felt was missing (just like the music box was missing its key). Twelam is envious of the Owuls' closeness, while Guntram thinks far more about his father than his younger sister. There's potential for the Hamelin siblings to reconnect, but they don't by the end of their stories like Rius and Toph. Probably they'll have to really work at it to get anywhere, but the game doesn't give us, the audience, that guarantee. Their problems are larger than Fukuro or Eddie are capable of mending: They're so independent of one another that it's up to them to approach the beast on their own.

Conclusion

There are three main sibling relationships present in "Walking on a Star Unknown": the Owul siblings (Fukuro and Eddie), the royals (Rius and Toph), and the Hamelins (Guntram and Twelam). Of the three, Eddie and Fukuro are the closest and the most secure, able to work in tandem to address challenges and overcome obstacles. Rius and Toph are divided by their differing perspectives on aliens, largely based on Toph's personal feelings of abandonment and distrust in the aftermath of the Starling War, but Fukuro and Eddie are the final straw in his acceptance of them (and Rius's marriage to Daios). Finally, Guntram and Twelam have the most dysfunctional sibling relationship in the game, something that stems from the vastly different treatment they received from their father: Guntram was overly controlled, while Twelam was left to follow her whims.

While all three sibling pairs have experienced sadness and hardship, Eddie and Fukuro are so supportive of one another that their mother's legacy has been turned into something that brings joy to themselves and others, not pain; Rius and Toph can't see eye to eye until Toph is made to break out of his preexisting beliefs and see the error of his ways; and Guntram and Twelam, despite coming to understand themselves better over the course of the game, have only begun laying the groundwork for the improvement of their relationship. If there's anything the game tells us, though, it's that Eddie and Fukuro's relationship has had a positive influence on the other two — they may not have fixed everything overnight, but even three days is sufficient to make changes, one that will make a difference in the others' lives forever. Really, that's a theme that runs strong in all of the character routes in Walking On A Star Unknown: There's a sense that, however brief the contact, how far away they are in the universe, or how long it will be until they see each other again, Eddie and Fukuro lit up their friends' lives just as the Langturns did their paths through Calpucca. Because of their status as aliens and their strong familial bonds, they are able to show the others that there are other ways of being, other ways of seeing. In turn, the residents of Calpucca have indelibly left a mark on the Owuls, as well.

[cf56]

Ripping them a new one

What. The. HELL?! I can't even begin to describe the depth of my anger and sorrow right now.

The following profanity-laced rant represents only a fraction of my true feelings on this.

If you don't know what I'm referring to, I'm talking about the line to start episode 8, where Yakko and Dot say, in front of him, that Wakko is the worst sibling and they don't need him. Well, I thought it'd only be a line, but it turns out they did it MULTIPLE TIMES!!!

And then the stupid fucking cop out that feels like it's mocking us for giving a shit.

I was spoiled on this line over a month ago because someone talked about the storyboard leaks in the Animaniacs tag. Reading about it almost killed my fandom. Right there, instantly, my love for Animaniacs came this close to dying. It took me weeks before I felt anywhere close to where I was before in regards to loving this show. Why? Because the main and only reason I remain so attached to Animaniacs is the Warner Siblings' love for each other. What's the point in angst if there was never any love to test? What's the point in fluff if that love is hollow and empty, if it never really existed at all? Now, I'm glad I was spoiled and had time to recover. If I saw this bullshit raw, in the show for the first time, there's no telling what it would have done to me. I might have just stopped watching.

I don't care about Yakko's flimsy cop out. This is not what you say to someone you love. This is not something you say about someone you love, even if they didn't happen to be sitting right there. You realize what these words mean? They think they'd be better off without Wakko. THEIR BELOVED BROTHER. It's not so much that they joked about him dying and coming back. I can excuse that as sibling jabs, even if I would still hate it. It's that Yakko said he's always thought that their act would work better as just him and Dot. No, you didn't always think that. You BETTER not have always thought that.

Wakko has suffered emotional abuse before. He's been paraded around as the least popular sibling, as smelly and uncultured, as a gluttonous pig. Through all of that, what did he always have? His siblings, boosting him up, protecting him from the noise. Now the noise is coming from inside his family. That's unacceptable. There was one instance in the original that came close to this. When Yakko tried to sell Wakko in their Jack and the Beanstalk parody, because he gets less fan mail than Dot. That was still miles better than this. For one, it wasn't in their base reality. It was in a parody that would clearly be non-canonical. Second, Yakko didn't go out of his way to verbally abuse his little brother and try to make him feel less valued as a member of the group. It was just a hard necessity, as callous as it might have been.

Yakko would never say something like this. The thought would never even come close to crossing his mind. Dot would never agree to a statement like that. If she heard Yakko say it, she'd wonder what alien came in and replaced her older brother. Least of all would they say it right in front of Wakko, as if they're deliberately trying to hurt him.

It baffles me. It truly baffles me. Was this the writer's first day on the job? How do you go three fucking seasons and not know the first thing about the characters you're writing? The way Yakko and Dot are portrayed here is ten times more out of character than they've ever been written in any fanfic ever posted. Worse, this had to go through producers, storyboarders, animators, the showrunner, and they all looked at this and thought it was okay. I can't truly blame the voice actors, because they're under contract and have to do their jobs, but they should have known their characters well enough to know they would never say these lines. That they shouldn't say these lines.

I truly can't wrap my head around it. Where does this come from? What could possess anyone to think this is a good idea, even an acceptable idea, for even a single millisecond? Does it come from the Family Guy writing culture, where absolutely nothing is sincere, even relationships between friends and family? Do they just not know how to write sarcastic characters that also truly love their closest family members?

They had the audacity to claim they were listening to fan feedback for this season. Tell me, look at all the most popular fan compilations on YouTube about the reboot. Are they filled with moments of the siblings being cold and callous to each other, or are they filled with the opposite? How blind do you have to be to misunderstand the soul of your show and your fanbase so fucking badly? It almost feels malicious. Like someone on the writing staff had a bad experience with their own siblings and made it their personal mission to destroy and pervert the bond between the closest set of siblings on TV. I thought they were starting to get it right with season 2. Season 3, they had to look at what all the fans were saying and realize that they could go even further, right? Give us all the sibling fluff we could ever need? Instead they went the opposite direction. It's becoming clear to me that "listening to fan feedback" really meant listening to "Pinky and the Brain fan feedback." I don't mean to drive a wedge between certain parts of the fandom, but that's just how it seems to be. It's absolutely not the fault of any of the fans who talked about the show.

People will tell me to just forget about it, to consider it non-canon or as something the Warners had to do as part of the script. I literally cannot. Have you ever wondered why all my headcanons are so close to canon? I have freaking OCD. I need everything to be in order, I need there to be a way to make sense of everything together. I can't just ignore certain parts of the show and pretend like they never happened.

I can't even make angst out of this. I can't explain it away in a fanfic or with theorizing. This is the only thing in Animaniacs I can say that about. That's how unforgivably bad it is. It just goes so completely against everything about the characters of the Warners and the spirit of the show that it might as well be foreign to it.

This will affect me for a long time. Some might look at this rant and think I care too much. Yes, I care too fucking much. Look at my blog, for God's sake. Being aware of that doesn't change how I feel. Normally, I try to be courteous. I try to give the reboot the benefit of the doubt, because I truly do value many of the things it's added to Animaniacs. In this case, I don't care. Fuck whoever wrote these lines. Fuck every single person who saw them along the way and gave them their approval. Congratulations on a job well done. This hurts my heart and it will continue to do so for years to come, if not my entire life. I am devastated.

[aurorarouge8]

Writer's Block

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Ratchet X Reader (Platonic)

Reader has writer's block.

*I do not own gif*

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"Write," I muttered to myself snappily. Despite my mind being filled with a century's worth of ideas, I could hardly find the words to translate them into stories. Let alone have a solitary idea for where I should take my current story. "Write," I muttered again, this time louder than I'd previously intended, catching the attention of Ratchet.

"It doesn't write for you," Ratchet quipped from his workstation, grumpy as ever. I knew logically that his tone wasn't directed at me, rather a project that he was working on. However, in my sour mood, logic had been thrown out the window, and this was obviously a grump with me.

Pursing my lips together, I held back a snappy comment about technology and that it probably could with text to speech or AI. Nevertheless, I stayed quiet, bubbling with my frustrations that eventually popped into the sad relief of disapair. It was better than the alternative of anger and saying things I shouldn't, but it never seemed better as I slouched into the couch.

After a brief moment, I finally spoke up, "I know," I said while sighing and rubbing my eyes tirelessly. "I just can't write. I haven't been able to for months. I've tried, but the story I'm writing feels disconnected from the other chapters, and it's been months without an upload!" My frustration began to bubble again towards myself, "the one-shots that I've come up with, well I can't find a way to write them. I have these ideas, but they're all crazy, and how do I even begin to put them down to paper? Or detail the events that lead up to that point, Ratchet? I just can't write," I cried out, grateful that it was just us in the base.

Taken aback by my sudden declaration, Ratchet stared at me for a moment before shaking his head. He wasn't upset by my outburst or believed it to be silly (to a certain point). He'd heard every human and/or bot snap and cry out in displeasure at some point, and he was familiar with it within himself. He also understood the frustration of having blocks in work. "It'll go away, give it time," he told me in response to my simple problem.

"It's been months!" I reiterated tirelessly. It was becoming overwhelming, I had so many ideas with no way to release them. Every time I tried to write, it was all wrong; too many details, too little detail, wrong word, wrong sentence, it makes no sense. It was dreadful.

Hanging my head low between my knees, I gave up. I couldn't possibly find the right words to describe what I wanted to say. The soft clanging of his footsteps trodded over, stopping as he stood by the human loft area. I didn't bother to look up. "Tell me a story." He said, a careful softness to his voice.

At his words, I lifted my head in confusion at the request, "What?"

"Tell me a story," he repeated. "You've always described writing as telling a story. So, you talk, get out of your own way, and I'll scribe." He explained, his usual grumpness now back in his voice as he described what he thought was fairly obvious.

Although I would be willing to give it a try, I grumbled to myself, "I'll just pick it to shreds like I always do." The words wouldn't be right, or a sentence would be wrong. The tale would be garbage.

Ratchet rolled his eyes, closing my laptop with the tap of his finger. "Probably, but you could give it a try," he reminded, "a try not taken, is a chance unlived."

With a sigh, I nodded my head and crossed my legs while turning to face him. "Well... I suppose so... there was once a town..."

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"[Once in solitary confinement] you start thinking about what to do now. A false sense of energy and hope seizes hold of you. Wasn't it my friend Laurie who devised about fifty different things you can do in a cell to keep your mind occupied? I can only remember two of them. [I could do] exercises. ... but it doesn't keep you going for long. Oh then, there's the Bible. Why not make up your mind to start reading it from beginning to end? Or make a study of one book? The book of Job? The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord. But Job wasn't in solitary confinement. Good God, he wasn't even in prison, the lucky soandso.

You start reading, but you find you can't concentrate. Your mind wanders away to the people outside. I suppose the V.J. [Visiting Judge, who ordered punishments like solitary confinement] is looking forward to sitting down to a nice lunch. Meat and white bread and pastry, I'll bet. I hope it ties knots in his guts. Jesus Maria. How did you ever let yourself get in this position? And you make a resolution then. Never again. If it ever looks that you might get arrested, rather shoot your way out. They took you away, the police did, and locked you up. And now the screws have done it again. Take him away and lock him up. Theme song of all authority for 1,900 years. And getting worse now. Take the derelict away and lock him up.

Outside, in the world which you left behind you ages ago, there are people actually walking about the streets wondering what they'll have for lunch, worrying about some silly business problem, thinking what a time they're going to have that night with some girl. Girls, my God. While you squat here, like some bloody animal in the half-dark.

Or in the country. Actually in the country near birds and trees. Grumbling about having to milk cows. It's almost unbelievable. They ought to throw their arms round the cows' necks and hug them for the privilege of being free to milk them. Of being free to touch them. Of being free.

I'm so tied to my farm, writes one cow-cocky in the paper, that the only difference between it and a concentration camp is the height of the boundary fence.

You damn fool, you crazy bastard, you lying hound. You can go out and eat grass, can't you? You can drink the milk, you can get down on your knees and suck the cow's teats? You can do anything, you fool, you're FREE.

Try sitting in a cell in semi-darkness reading the Book of Job on an empty stomach. Try praying to God for the minutes to go, just a little quicker. Try having the smell of your own pisspot in your nostrils night and day. Try waiting through interminable hours for night to come so as you can steal a little enjoyment from a smoke as thin as the lead in a lead pencil; hoping to God a screw won't pass by and smell you out. Try being a derelict in solitary confinement. Try getting into such a degraded state that a bit of cheese, shoved under the door by a friendly cleaner, seems like one of the miracles of Christ. Try those things just once. Then get down on your knees again, but instead of sucking teats, thank God you're alive and on the right side of the walls."

- Ian Hamilton, Till Human Voices Wake Us. Auckland: Auckland University Press, 1983 (first published by private subscription, 1953). p. 65-66.

[I've read a lot of prison memoirs this year, with many more to come. This may be one of the best. Hamilton was a conscientious objector in New Zealand-Aotearoa during World War 2, a pessimistic socialist humanist, a playwright, and sheep farmer. This may be one of the best, just raw but well-directed anger, utter contempt for polite New Zealand settler society and for what he viewed as a growing bureaucratization and dehumanization of society. I thought this bitter anger directed at people who use metaphors of imprisonment lightly to describe minor incovencies.]

[bondsmagii]

Does ireland have a more plausible path to reunification now that football fingers is in charge?

literally being 100% serious here but Ireland is going to reunify sometime over the next decade or so. here's how I think it's gonna happen.

Brexit has fucked over Northern Ireland exponentially. there's a border in the Irish Sea, effectively cutting off the whole island anyway, and any hard border on the land itself is going to be impossible. it's just not practical, because when Ireland was partitioned they did such a stupid job of it. I mean, the border runs through towns, farmland, and even people's houses. a hard border (with customs and immigration control and all the expected shit) would just not be feasable. what are you gonna do? stop people bringing their sheep from field to barn because one's in the EU and the other isn't? stop people from bringing their grocery shopping from the front door to the kitchen because the kitchen is the EU and the meat is from outside the EU? come on.

so Northern Ireland has become a pain in Britain's arse again, and this time they can't shoot at the problem or unlawfully detain and torture it, so they're going to go for the other tried and tested British reaction to a problem: they're going to listen closely and think practically. ha! no. they're going to ignore it. so Northern Ireland is going to continue to get fucked over, with more issues with operating businesses, supply chains to supermarkets and the NHS, uncertainty, general inconvenience, etc. alongside this is the growing cost of living crisis in the rest of the UK, which is felt all the more in Northern Ireland because it's always been Britain's lowest priority, so there is no longer any convenience or security in remaining part of the union. this is going to piss off moderate unionists, and it's going to really piss off all the Protestants who used to not give a shit at all. only the hardliners are going to remain loyal to a union who doesn't give a shit about them, and those guys are sticks in the mud. you're never going to persuade them to use their noggins, and they're such a minority at this point that they're not worth listening to. gradually, this dissatisfaction and annoyance is going to turn to anger and disgust, and the majority required for reunification is going to appear.

I have seen this start to happen already. I cannot tell you the amount of ex-unionists I've seen who have changed their tune completely, realising as they have that Britain has never cared about them. I have seen regular non-political Protestants getting so pissed off about this that they've gone full pro-unification. I've seen Protestants, who formerly exclusively described themselves as British, claiming their right to an Irish passport and beginning to describe themselves as Irish Protestant. this is unprecedented. and I have seen it happening a lot. if the Republic is down for it, and the people vote it, and Britain keeps its promise, this is very plausible. the only thing I would be :/ about is the Britain keeping its promise part, but Northern Ireland is now such an inconvenience for it re: Brexit meaning Brexit (🙄) that I think they'd be happy to let us go lmao.

(yes, this will cause trouble with some of the hardline loyalists. I imagine there will be some civil unrest and a few shootings. but the loyalist paramilitaries were always backed up by the British military, and without them they're pure shite. couldn't hit a barn door with a bazooka, as my old man used to say.)

anyway tiocfaidh ár lá, probably in 2024.

[punkinspice]

If you don't mind my asking, are you still Christian? I have seen your posts over time about leaving cults and whatnot, and I was curious how that impacted your faith.

Hello! I don't mind you asking at all, and I am happy to talk about it, it's just that it's a very touchy, complicated, controversial and long answer that I don't always know how to answer it in a way that makes sense. (this may get really deep)

If I were to be 100% honest, I will admit that I personally no longer believe in or identify with being a Christian or the Christian faith.

As to what I believe in currently, or what I'd call myself now? I really don't have an answer to that. I guess you could say I'm currently leaning more towards being an agnostic and sometimes atheist? But honestly, the things I may agree with today, may change tomorrow. and I'm sure the things I will believe in currently will be completely changed in a year. And.... I am ok with that. I want to be questioning and to have an open mind to things, opinions and questions and to have the permission to be wrong and to change my mind on things as I learn new or more information.

This is not a choice that I've come to easily, or glibly. It's been a process I've been in the past 3 maybe 4 years of my life, and I think in the last year is when I've chosen to leave the faith. It's a place I never thought I would be in and it's involved a lot of pain, confusion and trauma and healing in my life. There is a whole ton more I could go more deeply into, but I don't feel this is the right post to do that, and I don't quite have words yet to explain or describe everything.

As far as the cult thing goes, there were and are a lot ways that I was raised and taught to believe in, that by definition, was a cult. There were a lot things that were abusive and still traumatize and cut into me deeply and I am in the process of recovering from and untangling the things that were taught to me and it still brings up a lot of trauma for me, of which I am thankfully getting help for.

I also joined a well known Christian organization around the age of 21/22, and was in it for over 2 years, until Covid hit and I had to go home. And the more time I was out and after a ton of research and studying, I will be honest and say that that organization is a cult, and it did leave a lot of mental and financial wounds on me that I am going to be recovering from for a long time. Did I learn a lot from that experience and grow from it? Yes I did, but it is an experience and chapter of my life that I am glad is over.

I know that from the short examples that I've given it's really easy to say that that really wasn't true Christianity, or it was just people poorly misrepresenting the word and love of God, or worse, blaming me and saying that I was never a Christian to begin with, which I can't even begin to explain how much and how deeply into the faith I truly was, and how hurtful that allegation is.

...And maybe all of that is true... And maybe it isn't....

There is a lot of pain, betrayal, anger and grief that I am still healing from and will be healing from for years to come. I don't want to live in a state of bitterness and anger and blame of the things that were done to me. But I also want to admit and be honest about the wrongs that were done to me and the abuse that was done to me in the name of Love.

I need time and separation, but mostly I need love and understanding. It's one of the most painful and isolating experiences I've ever gone through in my life, and so utterly earth shattering and life changing and most of the time you can't even talk to your family or friends about it because you are so afraid of the way they will react and what they will take away from you.

A lot of this is very surface level of my journey through this "deconstruction" of faith if that's what you want to call it. There's so much more that I could go in depth in, but again I don't always have the words or mental fortitude to really get into a lot of things.

If you still have questions I'll try my best to answer. I know this is a really sad and hard thing for a lot of people to hear, and yeah.

It is sad. It's devastating.

There are days I wish could go back to the way it was, or that I could fully go back into the faith.... but I can't. And, despite the excruciating pain and grief that I've been going through, I ironically feel so much more freedom and peace than I ever did in religion. Which I know is hard to comprehend... it's hard for me to explain.

I'm sorry for the ramble and the heaviness. But I guess now's as good a time as any to finally admit this about myself and where I am at.

My final thought is to please have so much grace and understanding to people in your life who are going through a similar process to me. If you have friends or family in this same process, please just be kind to them. They didn't ask for any of this, and many times these doubts and questions came from things out of their control, and they're simply trying and surviving the best they can. There is so much pain there that I'm sure they haven't expressed to you because they are afraid of losing everyone and everything that they love, simply because they do not believe in the same thing anymore. So just love them, and hold space for them and don't argue or defend, as that will only push them away further. And also be open to them. They may have very important and valid insights to things that you may have become blind to. If you really believe in a loving, kind and gracious God then he would be doing those things for these people 10 fold.