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andreafmn · 1 year

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Speak | Chapter 10

Word Count: 3.5K Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf. Chapter: 10/? Warnings: emotional and mental abuse A/N: can't believe I finished this on schedule! the story everyone is obsessed with for some reason just got updated😂🤍 My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing or buy me a coffee TikTok • Instagram • Business | MASTERLIST If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post! Taglists for Twilight get filled quick and Tumblr only lets me tag up to a certain point. Notifications are your best bet.

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Chapter 10

"Do you want to stay over tonight?" Jacob suddenly asked as the pair made their way to his truck. "It's already so late and I don't wanna make the drive back to Forks right now."

"Uh, sure, that sounds great," she said, trying to contain her excitement. A surge of happiness took over her as she witnessed Jake trying. He was trying to keep them together, at least that's what it looked like to her. "I'll just let dad know."

"Yeah, sure."

After she had settled on the center of the seat, Jacob helped his father into the truck, stepping out to say goodbye to his friends.

"I'll let you know that there won't be any funny business under my roof, (Y/N)," Billy smiled teasingly. "Though I am glad that Jacob is seemingly trying to turn over a new leaf this new year."

"I promise we'll do nothing but sleep, Billy," she chuckled. "And I also hope this is a new start for Jake and me. That everything that happened stays in the past and we can just give it our all in this relationship."

"If it is meant to be, (Y/N), the universe will find a way," he said as mystically as he always spoke. "You deserve happiness, my child."

"People keep saying that," she responded, her eyes growing far more interested in the skin of her fingers. "Does no one think that Jake can make me happy?"

"That's not what I'm saying, (Y/N)," he smiled, his hand falling on top of the one she was picking. "All I am saying is that if the love and happiness that you deserve is with Jacob, then the universe will allow it."

"And if not?"

"Then, your paths will always align."

"Then let's hope that what's written on the stars is in our favor." And as she said that she didn't know if she was wishing that to convince him or to convince herself.

The three of them rode back to the Black residence in a comfortable silence. The sounds of the woods and the whistling of the wind filled their quiet. She wondered what they said. If they whispered words of encouragement or if they taunted her downfall. She wanted to believe it was the former, because the latter would wreck her.

"Well, you two. I trust that you will behave yourselves since you're under my roof," Billy told them, eyeing the teenagers suspiciously. "And don't start getting used to these sleepovers. This is only because it's already two in the morning and we are all tired."

"Dad," Jacob grumbled. "Just go to bed already."

"Ooh, never thought I'd be shooed away in my own home," the man chuckled. "But I will leave you two. Not because you told me so, but because I am tired. Good night, kids."

"Night, dad."

"Good night, Billy."

Billy rolled away to his bedroom, turning in for the night. He left the couple standing in the living room, a heavy and tense air blowing between them. They had yet to acknowledge everything that had happened between them, much less finally putting it to rest.

"Uh, I'll get you some clothes and you can shower first if you want," Jacob mumbled as he walked into his room before coming out with a folded t-shirt and some sweatpants. "Might be a bit big on you, but it's better than nothing. There're extra towels under the sink."

"Sure," she smiled. "Thanks."

There was still remnant awkwardness between them as they tried to waltz around unspoken words. She locked herself in the bathroom, finally allowing herself to breathe. Fresh start is what she told herself. Over and over again she told herself that they were having a fresh start. As she showered and cleaned away Paul's touch and the thought of him, she had to believe it.

Jacob was who she had always wanted. The boy she had grown up with, the one she had never forgotten. Still, her mind wondered what would have happened if Paul had been the one she had met first. If he had been the boy that was in her mind for the almost sixteen years she had been alive. Maybe she would have been standing in his bathroom instead of Jake's. Maybe she would have been wearing his oversized t-shirt.

"Hey," Jacob called softly from the living room as she opened the bathroom door. "Come here."

(Y/N) walked down the hallway to where he was, a smile stretching on her face as she was met with what Jake had done while she showered.

He had pushed aside the wooden coffee table that lived between the sofas and placed in its stead plush blankets and pillows, a pair of hot chocolate mugs in front of the fireplace. His long, wet hair was plaited back, and he had changed into pajamas. And he was waiting for her.

"What's all this?" (Y/N) smiled.

"I think it's about time we put things to rest already, (Y/N)," he said, patting the pace in front of him. "I don't like fighting with you."

"I don't like it either," she sighed contentedly as she sank into the warmth of his body, his arms wrapping around her. "I like things when they're like this. When we're together and happy."

"I know, and I want it to be like this all the time. But it can't be when I hear you're running around with Paul," he reminded her. His tone was soft, but his words were as snipping as a snake's bite. "I just can't stand the guy and it's embarrassing when it happens in front of the town."

"Jake, I..."

"Don't worry, baby, that's all in the past. As long as you promise not to see him again, (Y/N). I don't want you to fall into his trap."

(Y/N) couldn't remain quiet for long. She knew it would only work to anger him. But how could she promise something she didn't want to do? Something that her gut told her was wrong. "Of course," she lied. "I promise. Paul is a thing from the past."

"That's what I like to hear," he smiled before he turned her head to kiss her. "We need to focus more on us. Focus on our relationship."

"I would love that," she beamed. "I want this to work, Jake. I want us to work."

"Then let's," he smirked.

Jake attached his mouth to her neck, nipping at a spot that took her breath away. His hand held her head back, gripping her jaw. He took in her scent, the warmth of her skin, the sounds from her mouth. All as he imagined...

"Stop, Jake," she said, her voice treading between a moan and a chuckle. "Your dad is literally down the hall."

"He's a heavy sleeper," he chuckled against her skin. "He'll never know."

"No, Jake." She separated from him; a playful grin splayed on her mouth as she turned to face him. "Not here. Not now."

"Ugh, fine," he groaned, falling on his back. "Then, I guess we'll just sleep."

"Yes," she mused, crawling over his body and planting a soft kiss on his lips. "But together."

Jacob wrapped his arms around her and chuckled, positioning both of them comfortably on a blanket and draping another over them. Her body curled into his, his arms wrapped around her waist as he spooned her.

"We'll have to talk about taking things to the next level," he said against her ear, his breath tickling her skin. "I think it might cement everything between us."

"And I think you need to take a breather, Jacob," she chuckled. "We just got to a good place. Let's take things as they go."

"Ugh, fine," he muttered jokingly. "Then, let's just go to sleep."

"Alright, Jake. Good night."

"Night, (Y/N)."

If every night after was like this one, maybe it was the universe's way of telling her that Jake was the one. Laying there, wrapped in his arms, she could let herself believe that the tides were changing. That at the end of the day, Jacob would choose her. Maybe, just maybe.

***

"I can't believe she went home with him," Paul groaned, punching a nearby tree. The way the bark splintered helped ease his anger for a second, but the burning pain inside his chest remained. "I don't know what else I can do to make her understand what a shitty guy he is."

"You know there is," Jared teased. "You could always tell her how you feel and why."

Paul's stoic stare was clear even in the darkness of the night. He knew Jared was right. The more he pursued her without telling her the reason why, the harder it would be to explain his behavior. "You know I can't, dude," he grumbled. "I don't wanna put her in the middle of all of this bull."

"It's not that bad, man," the boy offered. "Look at me and Kim. She knows and nothing has happened to her."

"Yeah, she also liked you before you were a shapeshifting freak," he joked. "And look at Emily. She's forever scarred because didn't have a grasp on what was happening."

"Come on, you know that was an exception, Paul. What happened to her was a very unfortunate accident. But an accident, nonetheless. There's really no reason for you to be running from (Y/N)."

"Look how much shit happened to Bella in so little time, Jared. And it all started when she found out the truth about the Cullens," Paul said. "I don't know what I would do if I made (Y/N) go through any of that because of what I am."

"So you're gonna continue brooding and make our lives miserable? Just tell her, man. Maybe she'll fall in love with you and turn that frown upside down."

Paul picked up a stick and threw it at Jared's head, laughing as the other boy tried to duck but failed to; the piece of wood bouncing off his forehead. "You'll have to put up with me for a lot longer then," he laughed, swallowing the sadness that threatened to overtake him. "I just don't think I have it in me to do that to her. She deserves to be safe and happy."

"Even if it's with Jacob?"

"Unfortunately, that decision is hers to make," he sighed. "I just wish she didn't have to get hurt in the process."

Jared remained quiet for a second. He stared as his pack brother paced before him, his mind too quiet aside for the sporadic image of (Y/N). But even if he didn't say it, he could feel Paul's sadness. He could feel the tug in his chest that called him to go to her. He had felt it too. Every time Kim had to go to a family dinner or visit family out of state, he felt like someone had taken his heart off his chest and sent it away.

But (Y/N) was so close. All he had to do was have one tough conversation and he could soften the grasp of the claws that covered his heart. "What are you so afraid of, Paul?" Jared finally said. "I know you say you don't want to hurt her and all that, but there's something else. Isn't there?"

Paul stared at his friend, wondering if he was that transparent. "I've never been a, uh, a relationship guy. Haven't had the best role models," he confessed. "I guess I think that if I let myself get close to her, I won't be able to handle when she inevitably goes. Because at the end of the day, everyone leaves."

"Not everyone, Paul. We're still here."

"Because you have to be," he shrugged. "If you had the chance to go, you would take it. And don't try denying it."

"Come on, man. You're my friend. More than that, you're my brother," Jared reassured. "But, sure, if I had the chance to leave the rez one day, I would take it. But that doesn't mean I would leave my friends behind. Much less, family."

"Jared, we wouldn't have even spoken to each other had it not been because of the shift. I'm not that delusional to think otherwise."

"Regardless of how or why it happened, life brought us together, Paul. And whether you like it or not, you're my brother now," the boy smiled, draping his arm over Paul's shoulders. "Now, you need to let that girl prove that she would stick by you as well. And it starts by having that difficult conversation you're so scared to have. She's desperate for a reason, dude. All you have to do is tell her."

"She's going to think I'm crazy, J. That I'm making up stories to get her away from Jake," Paul whined. "Why would she believe that there are shapeshifting wolves roaming around the reservation protecting humans from threats? And what if she goes to her sister with the story? Then Bella will know about vampires and shapeshifters, and it'll just add more shit on top of the mess we're dealing with."

"How about you stop overthinking yourself into the ground and finally grow some balls?" Jared teased. "Don't think of what might happen and live in the moment. I know last year's Paul would've had the courage to ask her out. Jacob or no Jacob."

"I technically already asked her out once, and it ended up with me, by myself, in the diner," he reminded his friend, red flooding his cheeks as he recalled the embarrassing moment. "This is not just about inviting the prettiest girl in school to the prom. This is about telling someone that everything they had believed is not real. It's telling her that it doesn't matter what she might have wanted, that something out in the universe decided that we are bonded for life. It's telling a girl like her that she's stuck with a guy like me."

"Man, I can't keep trying to convince you that you are a good guy," Jared sighed. "I'm not saying you're the gods' gift to mankind. Certainly not the you from a year ago. But you're not that guy anymore. You're not even the same guy from six months ago. So, it's time to pick yourself up and do what you have to do. Stop moping about this and do something."

***

(Y/N) woke up with warm arms wrapped around her and a pang in her chest she didn't understand. She was supposed to feel happy. She was supposed to wake up that New Year's Day with an overwhelming amount of joy and the sense that things were finally on the right path. Instead, there was an aching void in her heart that was trying to eat at her insides.

It was the same void that had started festering since that fateful night at the bonfire. The one that seemed to calm whenever the fluke was around. The one that called out his name and she had let go on deaf ears.

That pang filled her with guilt. As she lay in Jacob's arms, she felt guilty that her head was thinking of another guy. And it was a guy she barely knew. A boy that she had no business thinking about, much less dreaming about.

But she couldn't help it. She couldn't forget the softness of his hands against her skin, the brightness of his smile as he looked at her, the glimmer in his eyes when he listened to her. She couldn't get him out of her head.

And as if by divine intervention, the very constant thought appeared in Jacob's window. He knocked softly, motioning for her to go outside. (Y/N) couldn't believe he was there, much less that Jacob had yet to wake up. But what was harder to fathom was the fact that she was tiptoeing to the front door dragging a blanket with her.

"What are you doing here, Paul?" (Y/N) said as she closed the door behind her, wrapping the fabric tighter around her body. "If Jacob sees you here, he'll kill you."

"I thought I was supposed to be playing nice with him," he grinned teasingly. "What if I was here to extend a truce?"

"It wouldn't have mattered because he made me promise him that I wouldn't see you again," she whispered. "So, imagine what he will do if he sees you here right now."

"And did you?"

"What? Did I what?"

"Did you promise him, (Y/N)?" Paul asked sadly. "Is this your way of telling me that you're cutting ties with me?"

"No, of course not," she quickly replied. "I mean, I did promise him. But I never intended to keep it. I would just find a way to keep you two separate."

"So, what? I'd just be your dirty little secret?" he replied, anger clear in his tone. "Yeah, no, thanks. I'd rather take my chances with other friendships."

"What did you want me to say, Paul? Did you want me to tell my jealous boyfriend that I wanted to maintain a friendship with the one guy he seems to despise more than anything?" (Y/N) spoke through gritted teeth. "Would you have wanted me to tell Jake that I wanted to spend time with a guy he was close to dragging into the middle of town and beating the living daylights out of him? Sure, that would have ended great for me."

"Why would you wanna be with a guy like that, (Y/N)? If you're that afraid of his reaction over something as small as a friendship, what do you think will happen if something bigger happens?"

"He only reacts that way with you, and I don't get why," she sighed. "And I wanna be with him because I... because... because I..."

"Why, (Y/N)? Tell me!"

"Because I love him, Paul," she cried, shame cracking her voice. "I've been waiting for this chance for the better part of my life. I've been in love with him for as long as I've known what it was. And he wants me back, Paul. He wants me. And I'm not giving up at the first sign of hardship. So, if you really want to be my friend then you're gonna have to live with that."

"What if I don't?" Paul grumbled, his voice low and hurt. He got closer to her. So close she could feel how warm his body was, even through the blanket. "What if I can't stand around and watch as he mistreats you? Someone that loves you would never treat you like that."

"Don't make this harder than it already is, Paul," she whispered, warm tears falling down her cheeks. "For some reason I want you in my life. But I won't screw up what I just started with Jacob for a friend."

"I just don't wanna see you like this," he said, wiping away the tears with the pad of his thumbs. "You deserve to be happy, but not when it has rules and regulations like this. You should be allowed to still be yourself when you're in a relationship."

"Paul..."

"Listen, (Y/N)," he sighed. "I can't tell you what to do, nor would I want to. But I can't just watch in the sidelines as he treats you like shit when you deserve someone that will worship the ground you walk on."

"What are you saying, Paul?" (Y/N) croaked. "Are you saying you won't be my friend if I stay with Jacob?"

"(Y/N), I'm saying that I won't keep quiet if he keeps mistreating you."

"He doesn't," she said, but she knew it wasn't convincing. She didn't even believe it herself. "He just... he's just passionate, I guess."

"Then can you promise me something?" Paul sighed, his eyes glossing with tears. "If he ever –and I mean ever—gets physical with you, even as much as lifts his hand at you, you will tell me. The second it happens, you call me."

"I don't think it'll come to that," she forced a smile. "He would never put his hands on me."

"Just, please, (Y/N). Promise me and don't lie to me."

"Alright," she said, looking straight into the brown of his eyes. "I promise, Paul."

"I'll make sure you're always safe," he promised. His hand had not fallen from her face, his thumb caressing over her cheekbone. "No one is going to hurt you, (Y/N)."

(Y/N) had no idea why, but she believed every word he said. So, she promised. And, unlike with Jacob, she intended to keep it.

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m1ckeyb3rry · 1 month

Note

I was wondering if you could make a part 2 to "the instrument"? I got invested reading it was so sad that it ended :(

I don't rlly know what I'm looking for but I loved the plot of that fic and I wanted to see it progress further (´；д；)

Like, it js ended with him giving her flowers, I wanted to see their love bloom more yknowww ಥ_ಥ

(Also is it weird that I see y/n as her own person?)

── THE COMPASS

Synopsis: You were right from the start — Michael Kaiser has always been a dog, albeit perhaps not in the way you first meant it. (part one here!)

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Kaiser x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4.5k

Content Warnings: fake dating trope, mentioned/implied/referenced abuse (both child and animal), call me tabito karasu the way i assassinate kaiser’s character in this, relationship dynamics many would consider…interesting…

A/N: EEK i feel like kaiser is so hard for me to do romance with but i tried my best!! and LMAOO this y/n is definitely a very interesting one so i can see why you got that sense 😭 but i’m glad you liked the instrument and ty for requesting 🥹 i hope this is somewhat satisfactory??

Additional: check my pinned post to make sure i have requests open; after reading the rules, please feel free to make your own!

You are quite certain that your mother was involved in this exercise, considering she’s the only one you can think of with a spare key to your house. So, when your phone call to Michael is sent immediately to voicemail, you don’t hesitate in dialing her number, knowing she’ll pick up immediately, as she always does.

The phone rings only once, and then she’s answering. There are voices in the background that are faint and muffled, which means either she’s watching a new drama or your father is watching some sports game. Then you detect the faint sound of cheers, and you conclude it must be the latter.

“Hello, Y/N,” your mother says. “Did you need something?”

She is very obviously trying to maintain an air of mysteriousness, as if she has no idea why you might be calling her, but the fact that she is putting on such an act makes it all the more obvious that it is just a facade. You’ve known for many years that your talent onstage is not a genetic one, though it does not stop your parents from pretending that it’s something you inherited from them.

“The flowers,” you say. “You put them there, didn’t you?”

She coughs. You don’t know if she’s disguising a laugh or if she’s just taken aback to that extent. Either way, you give her a moment to compose herself, for it’ll be a mess if you don’t. Your mother is like that, after all. If you inundate her with questions, she’ll respond to exactly none of them, so patience is the only method you have if you wish to obtain any measure of success.

“It wasn’t my own doing,” she says finally. You sigh.

“Of course, someone told you to, and I’m sure we both know who,” you say. “What did he say?”

“He meant well,” she says. “Are you angry with him? He seemed to think you might be. Anyways, he just told me to give them to you. It’s his way of saying sorry, I think. Or perhaps of saying something else. I’m afraid I can’t understand him the way you do. It’s magical, really, how you all but read his mind…”

“No one can read his mind,” you scoff. “He’s a convoluted man, and his thoughts are his own.”

“And you despise him because of that?” she prods, in a way that indicates she already knows the answer and is only asking for her personal satisfaction.

“I love him all the more for it,” you say shortly. Somehow, it’s worse saying it to your mother than it was with him. More real, maybe. Unable to be taken back. You don’t want to take it back, of course, but nevertheless, even if you did, you no longer can. It’s out in the world, now, and the world has a strange humor; it takes things one says even carelessly, without thought, and it turns them into undeniable, inescapable truth.

“Well,” she says. “That is a predicament.”

“There’s no predicament,” you say.

“He believes there is,” she says. “Right before he left, he—”

“Left?” you repeat. The flowers on your counter are arcing towards the sun, their petals unfurling towards the light pouring from your window. It’s a behavior more typical of flowers other than roses, but these roses are blue and they are Michael’s, so it stands to reason that they behave peculiarly. “Where did he go?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” she says. “He didn’t mention where he was going, just that he had to leave for a bit. But he looked sad. I mean, it’s difficult to tell with him, given how stoic he is, so I don’t know. Don’t take me at my word and start a fight about it.”

This is all you’re going to get out of her. You’re sure of it; there’s a wavering to her voice that signals she’s out of her depth. It’ll be unproductive and all but cruel if you continue to drill her, so you grit your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut and counting to three in your mind. Frustration is a wasted emotion, especially when the target of your frustration is somewhere far away, gone with nothing but a pot of flowers as a farewell.

That’s what it really is. Not an apology or a confession, but a goodbye. The fact that he thought to do it does mean something, but that meaning doesn’t outweigh the intention. So you make meaningless small talk with your mother and then your father, who she passes the phone to, and as soon as you can, you hang up and call another person, one who might be your only chance at finding the wandering stray that is Michael Kaiser.

Michael doesn’t really have friends, claims he doesn’t need them, but if there is one man who he might deign to bestow that title upon, it is his Bastard München teammate, Alexis Ness. They have been playing together since they were young, and so, if anything, there is an empathy between the two, although Michael will never admit it.

You’ve only met Alexis Ness a few times, at the various events which Michael used to drag you to when your relationship was still in the public eye. He’s never been anything but polite, albeit reserved, and on your third meeting, he gave you his phone number, telling you to call him if you ever ran into trouble. He had left the with Michael unsaid, but the implication had been there. You had thanked him and never called him since.

He’s quick to respond, like he was expecting the call — for all you know, he really was, though you would never ask either way. However, he does not speak first, so there is an awkward pause as you both wait for the other to say something.

“Good morning, Mr. Ness,” you say once a minute has gone by and he still has said nothing. “This is Y/N L/N. You gave me your number once.”

“Ah, Kaiser’s girlfriend,” he says. They have this habit, those soccer players, of referring to each other solely by last name. Your theory is that it’s to create distance, to avoid becoming close to a person who can be stolen by another team at any moment. You can’t fathom any other explanation. It’s a little sad to you, but you try not to judge, because there’s as many or more judgements that can be passed about your own lifestyle and habits.

“Yes,” you say.

“Are you calling to ask me where he went?” he says.

“I am,” you say. There’s no point in games. You don’t know Alexis Ness well enough to play them, and he seems to appreciate candidness, so the both of you are blunt in your conversations.

“I’m not supposed to tell you,” he says. “He swore me to secrecy.”

“I see,” you say. It’s disappointing, but it doesn’t come as a surprise. Michael is more than a little paranoid, so of course he took these ridiculous measures to cover his tracks.

“Nothing against you,” he says. “In fact, you should take it as a compliment. It sounded like there’s some messes he needed to clean up before he could bear to face you.”

“He’s horrible at cleaning,” you say.

“I don’t mean literal cleaning,” he says. It’s patient but also mocking. You roll your eyes, a silent form of retribution that he’ll never know of.

“Neither do I,” you say. Alexis Ness exhales heavily. Perhaps you’ve given him a migraine. It’s a particular skill of yours, or so you’ve been told.

“Berlin,” he says.

“Berlin?” you say.

“That’s where he is. If he asks, I’m not the one who told you,” he says, and then he’s ending the call before you can even thank him.

Berlin’s a big city, so Ness’s advice isn’t as helpful as he might’ve thought it would be, but at least it’s a start. Besides, for all his idiosyncrasies, Michael has a few patterns he follows with religiosity, so you tell your agent you’re going on a trip and silence your phone before he can call you and sputter protests about the impromptu nature of the semi-vacation.

The volunteers at the dog shelter tell you that Michael’s been there for the majority of the day. They’ve left him alone because they don’t know what to say; it’s not everyday that a celebrity wanders into such an establishment without so much as a word, and he’s remained relatively harmless, so they’ve continued about their daily business, ignoring him as best as they could when it became obvious he had no interest in speaking to them.

When you enter the kennel room, you find him sitting in front of one with a large hound in it. It has a pointed muzzle, and its tail does not wag at your approach, but it does lift its head and blink at you a couple of times before going back to sleep.

The cement floor is cold, but still you sit beside Michael, hugging your knees to your chest in a mirror of his position, careful not to touch him, thinking that he is wild enough to flee if you do. The hound lets out a soft breath. You notice that there are pink lines cutting through the black of its fur, marring its wide torso, shiny as the skin does its best to heal.

“She was seized from her owner,” Michael says. “The neighbors called the police one night when things got too loud.”

He’s not looking at you, but it’s obvious you’re the one he meant that statement for, so you shift closer to him, placing one hand on his arm. He flinches the tiniest bit, but when you try to pull away, he reaches up and stops you, holding your hand there, though he still refuses to turn away from the dog.

“Apparently, the guy got drunk and beat her,” he says. “She belonged to his wife, but once his wife died, he became an alcoholic, and that poor dog was the only one there to see it. I’m sure she tried to keep loving him at first, though. Even when she was frightened. Dogs do their best to love you, because they can’t understand that no matter how hard they try, it doesn’t matter. If someone wants to hate them, then all of the love in the world won’t be enough to stop that.”

He’s talking about the dog, but that’s not what he really means. That’s just how he is: he speaks in circuitous riddles to avoid ever saying anything plainly. Flowers and dogs — both are just methods of avoiding what he really wants to tell you.

“We can take her home,” you say. “Give her a different name and a place where she can be happy. Even if something has been hurt before, that doesn’t mean it has to hurt forever.”

His eyes lower, and then he stands, yanking you to your feet. Steadying you when you stumble, he lets go of you abruptly, frowning and turning away from the dog, who is awoken by the suddenness of the movement, flattening her ears against her head and shrinking back.

“She’s frightened of men now,” he says. “Has been ever since she was rescued. Bites every male that comes near her. I can’t blame her. If I were her, I’d do the same. Apparently, that means she’s not really adoptable. Not by us and not by anyone.”

The dog whines plaintively. You offer her the back of your hand through the bars of the kennel. She sniffs it before licking it carefully, and then she thumps her tail against her bed in approval — only one time, though, and then she’s standing, pacing in unhappy circles around the small kennel, which can hardly fit an animal of her size.

“I want her,” you say. “I don’t care if she isn’t adoptable. I want her.”

“Of course you do,” he says. He would sound aggravated, but there is a curious delight dancing in his eyes, a childish sort of joy that so rarely sparkles in those blue irises, so he completely doesn’t. “Of course you want her. You can’t stay away from hurt things, can you? Who told you I was here?”

“No one,” you say. “I figured it out by myself.”

He purses his lips, following after you as you make your way to the front desk. Disapproval rolls off of him in waves, but also something else. Something shriveled and cowering which is fighting desperately to crawl to the surface.

The volunteers are surprised to hear which dog you insist on taking, and they try to convince you to look at any of the more appealing ones — the puppies, or the well-trained retrievers that already have waitlists of potential adopters. You’re an actress, however, so they’ll put you at the top and give you whichever one you want. You tell them you know which one you want already, and eventually they give up on arguing, only frowning as you sign the litany of documents they produce, clicking their tongues and telling you that she’ll be difficult.

You respond that it’s fine. You’re used to difficult things; in fact, you think that you prefer them. They shake their heads and then you are told that your dog — yours, miraculously she is yours — will be ready for you to get her whenever you want.

Michael’s business in Berlin is not yet completed, you can sense it, so you tell them that you will return later and then you chase after his disappearing back, catching him by the sleeve of his coat in a narrow alleyway which leads to a theater.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says. He’s gazing at a poster with a woman on it; she’s beautiful, with elfin features and flowing hair the color of gold. She’s also someone you recognize. “Fuck Ness. I know he told you. I’m going to kill him when I get back.”

“Leave him alone,” you say. “He didn’t tell me anything.”

“Sure,” he says. “Whatever.”

“Do you know her?” you say, pointing at the woman.

“Do you?” he shoots back. He’s crabby now, snapping easily and readily, though you’ve not really done anything to provoke him.

“Yes,” you say. It’s not the answer he had predicted, which you can tell because he whirls to glare at you instead of the movie poster. “Why are you surprised? We’re in the same industry. I was almost in a movie with her a while back, though it fell through because of an issue with the writers. She’s nice enough, I guess. I went to her wedding a couple of years ago, but other than that, I wouldn’t say we’re particularly close.”

“You…went to her wedding?” he says, and then, inexplicably, his fingers are weaving in between yours. It feels like he is holding onto you for something more than affection, so you stand as still as you possibly can, only humming in agreement.

“Yes, I did. Actually, she married her childhood sweetheart, which took everyone by surprise. It was commonly thought that she’d marry one or another of her costars, you see. She’s always been good at creating chemistry…people always say that she can make even a rock seem desirable, that’s how she is,” you say wistfully, leaning your head on his shoulder. He doesn’t shove you away, enraptured by the story. “It’s amazing to watch. But isn’t it kind of sweet? That despite how excellent she is at feigning affection, how she could’ve had any man in the world, she chose the boy from her youth? I remember talking to him. He has nothing, no money or connections or investments. She really just married him because he loves her for who she is.”

“Is love really all she wanted?” he says.

“I suppose it’s all that a lot of people want,” you say. “Rumor has it that she's pregnant.”

He stiffens against you. “What?”

“Well, I think she’s a little old for it, but it’s common for women in my line of work to wait until the signs of age are beyond concealment before they have children, so it’s not a shock,” you say.

“Why?’ he says.

“It’s the industry’s standards—” you begin before he cuts you off.

“No,” he says. “No, why is she — why does she want — why is she pregnant?”

“Isn’t it common for people to start a family eventually?” you say. “By the way, you never answered my question. Do you know her?”

“She’s my mother,” he says. The words are angry, but his tone is forlorn, his hand in yours cold and small. “But I’m — I’m not her son.”

He looks so wretched that you cannot help embracing him, and when he reciprocates in earnest and without pretense, you know that you have done the right thing. His breaths are fast and shaky, though he is not crying, and as much as you wish you had not said it, you believe deep down that it is important that you did.

Platitudes are meaningless. If you say it’s okay or something along those lines, you will be a liar, because the truth is that it’s not okay. You are not the one who can decide if it’s okay or not. You can only remain as you have been, motionless and gentle, stroking his back in the way one settles a restless infant, allowing his fingers to dig into your sides and his looming weight to collapse into you — for his sharpness is not borne of malice but helplessness, however loath to admit it he might be.

“Why?” he whispers. There’s a million questions he could be asking, and none of them are ones you can ever answer for him, but that will not stop him. “Why couldn’t it be me? Why couldn’t she be happy with me? I would have loved her. I would have been her family.”

“A lot of people don’t deserve children,” you muse. “Or love, or many other such happinesses. And still more people cannot understand the importance of these things when they are within their grasp. Your mother must’ve been very young when she had you. It’s easy to be blinded by stardom and glamor and fairytales at that age. It’s easier still to abandon everything for just a taste of the spotlight. There’s a school of thought that fame is impossible to attain without that necessary sacrifice.”

“What about you?” he says.

“I’m not an exception,” you say ruefully. “Any normal person would have hung up on you when you first called, Michael. I’m only lucky in that it was you and not anyone else on the other end of the line. It’s only because I know you that I realized there are more important things in this world than celebrity and popularity. Once I would’ve spurned the thought of obscurity, but now, if I can have you, then I wouldn’t even mind it so much. It’s the same conclusion your mother must have reached.”

“It’s too late,” he says. “She reached it too late.”

“Yes,” you say. “Yes, she did reach it too late, but it’s easier to give this kind of life up once you’ve known it than to never have it at all. That’s the only reason why. She was greedy, and you bore the consequences.”

“It’s not fair,” he says. You’ve never heard him like this. Normally, he’d laugh at the mere thought of such vulnerability, but the gray of the city has clearly twisted him into a wounded and fragile version of himself, prone to shattering, made of a glass that is already jagged at the edges and can hardly keep together because of it. “It’s not fair, it’s not — I hate her, and I hate him, and I hate her stupid new family, and I —I—”

He silences himself, obviously unsure of what to say, and then he holds your face in his hands, giving you a pleading stare. Help me, he seems to beg. Tell me what to do. He is lost, and somehow you have become a map of sorts, or a compass, one which points in a direction he has no choice but to follow.

“Why did you come here?” you say. “When you knew it would hurt you, why did you come?”

“I wanted to remind myself,” he says. “For a second, you even convinced me that I was worthy of being — you know. So I had to come back. I had to see with my own eyes the kind of person I really am. If my mother and my father and my entire damn city hate me, then why should you be any different?”

He’s scared that he will hurt you, and that you will hurt him, and that he will be alone again, as he has been for much of his life. For all his brashness, his bravado, his smugness and his smooth way of speaking in public, he’s never really been anything more than a little boy who’s frightened, who presses against the back wall of his enclosure like that beaten hound did.

“You know that I am different,” you say. “I am not your mother, nor your father. I will leave everything behind but you. In fact, I’ll leave it for you. Tell me to and I will.”

“What if I tell you to quit acting?” he says.

“Then I will retire at once,” you say. “I already have more money than I know what to do with.”

“And if I tell you to move across the world?” he tries, resting his forehead against yours. “Would you do that, despite your entire life being here?”

“Yes,” you say. “I am quick at making friends and learning new things, so I will adapt to it.”

“What about if I tell you to marry me?” he says. His lips are so close to yours that he is speaking against your mouth, but he doesn’t try to kiss you yet.

“You wouldn’t ask?” you say.

“I don’t ask for things,” he says.

“Naturally, I’d marry you,” you say. “There isn’t anyone else I’d ever want, anyways. We’d have the most beautiful wedding in the world, and we’d only invite the people we like.”

“That’s a short list,” he says. His heartbeat is calming down; it’s a temporary solution, but if it manages to distract him, then you’ll indulge the flight of fancy.

“My parents,” you say.

“Ness,” he says.

“I always knew you liked him,” you say.

“Only because I have to,” he says.

“Anyone else?” you say.

“No,” he says. “That’s it. We can even forget about all of those people, actually. I just want it to be the two of us. Nobody else matters but — but you.”

He’s stuttering as he comes to his senses. These declarations aren’t typical of him, as foreign as French on his tongue, but he’s making them anyways. He’s been fighting the compulsion for a while, you can tell, but it’s hard for him to keep fighting on all fronts of his life. Eventually, one side will give. You are glad that it is your side, that you are the one he has given to, no matter how reluctantly he has done it.

“Is there anything else you’d like?” you say. “All of these are easy for me to do. Ask for something difficult, so that I may prove to you that I am telling the truth, that I mean what I say.”

“It’s not a request, but a condition,” he says.

“You only need to name it,” you say.

“If I hurt you, then you have to run,” he says. “Run so far away that I can never reach you. Even though it’ll hurt me, I want you to run. Even though I’ll beg for you to stay, please leave.”

That’s it, then. The most difficult thing he can imagine a person doing: leaving someone they love. Certainly he is unable to do it. It doesn’t matter if he’s suffering. He’ll suffer longer just to stay by your side, just as he suffered for all of those many years as a child.

It’s how you know he loves you more than he’ll ever let on. He holds you in such esteem that he’ll let you leave him if you have to, though it’ll indubitably destroy him, destroy him more than staying could ever destroy you. Yet still he is giving you that permission, commanding it, even, because he’d rather destroy himself than let even the slightest harm befall your being.

You can only draw that conclusion because you know that he will never, can never, hurt you. He isn’t saying this as a warning, because it isn’t an inclination that he has. No, it’s a dark and ugly voice in the back of his mind — does it sound like his father’s? You feel that it must — insisting that he will do it, he will. He’ll hurt you. He’s the reason that his mother left and his father became something sick, and he’ll be the reason that you are broken and ruined and torn apart. He’ll do it. He’ll be the one to do it, it’s inevitable, he’ll scratch you with his thorns and gnaw at your remains with his fangs and maybe he’ll even cry during the act but he’ll still do it.

“Alright,” you say, though you want to protest that he is incapable, because it’s clear that he is testing you. Every argument which might fall from your lips, he has heard before, and if you dare utter them one more time, it’ll be the proof that you are lying. The way his thoughts work, the paths that they follow, they are winding and narrow, but perhaps your mother is right — perhaps you are coming to understand them.

“Do you think that I can?” he says.

“No,” you say. “The fact that you worry about it tells me that you won’t. You are better than that, Michael.”

“You really believe that?” he says. “With everything you are, you believe it?”

“I do,” you say.

You almost can’t believe it, but he laughs. Well, calling it a laugh is generous, it’s really more of an exhale, yet one which is unquestionably seeping with amusement, and you’re about to ask him what he finds so funny when he was so close to breaking down mere moments earlier, but he stops you before you can.

“I do,” he says. It’s an odd thing to repeat, but a second later your mind registers why he’s done it, and then the corners of your lips are curving up.

In the streets of Berlin, the two of you are alone; his mother’s poster is your only witness, but if she takes some offense, she remains smiling and silent, her gaze far away as her son — who isn’t her son, he isn’t hers at all, he’s yours and only yours — finally closes the minuscule gap between you both and kisses you fully.

#kaiser x reader #kaiser x y/n #kaiser x you #michael kaiser #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #fake dating #m1ckeyb3rry requests #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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warabidakihime · 2 months

Text

Rules and Roses Chapter 4

★ characters: kibutsuji muzan x reader x akaza

★ plot summary: Kibutsuji Muzan has finally decided to expand his empire, and the way he intends to do so is by running for the highest political position. With you, his darling wife, at his side, he believes he can achieve and have everything the world has to offer. He is, after all, the Phoenix of Phario.

★ fic playlist: sometimes, same day, as time stops, wolf’s song (this is also the vision board for the fic).

★ content warnings : implied violence and abuse, profanities, toxic relationships, smut.

★ Previous Chapter

a/n:

hello!

just want to hop on here and say thank you to everyone who has been giving their likes and reblogs. huge thank you to those who are taking the time and effort to read my story as well. i've been wanting to continue this story for so long but i'm just so busy with work, but i'm glad i am able to find the time to write and update as regularly as i can.

hopefully someday i can hear your thoughts through your comments though haha i would really love to hear what you think about Rules and Roses and the way i write the characters as it is my first time. tbh, i am extra curious to know if i'm giving muzan's character justice HAHA but yeah, it never hurts to leave comments so feel free to send them my way.

i also would like to give those people who have not read the manga a heads up, that in this chapter and in the succeeding ones, there will be minor to moderate manga spoilers, so ready with caution.

also, moving forward, things will steadily pick up, so get ready HAHA!

enjoy reading everyone!

The sun had barely risen over Areswood, its golden hues taking its time enveloping the sky, but Muzan and Douma were already up and busy at Obelisk Kibutsuji, going over their next course of action for their campaigns for the next few months.

Muzan stood at the center of his spacious office. A large map of Phario's electoral districts sprawled across the narra table in front of him, dotted with colorful pins representing key areas of support.

Douma, on the other hand, leaned over the map, his eyes narrowing as he assessed their next move.

"We need to double down our efforts in the southern districts," Douma said, twirling his fan languidly. "The latest polls show we're losing ground there, but it is the opposition's home turf, so I'm not surprised," he added with a hint of mirth.

Muzan nodded, rubbing his temple as he processed the information. He'd been up since dawn, reviewing speeches and strategies. The weight of the campaign was beginning to show in the faint lines on his face and the dark circles under his ruby eyes.

Unlike Douma, Muzan couldn't afford to make light of the situation. Keeping a straight and serious face, he continued to rack his brain for strategies. After a few minutes, Muzan finally spoke, catching everyone's attention.

"Let's schedule a town hall meeting in Azudellin. We need to connect with the voters there and show them we're listening to their concerns."

"Today?" Douma asked.

"Yes, why? Do we have other agendas for today?"

Douma quickly checked his calendar on his phone.

"We have an interview with the Areswood Times in an hour, then a fundraiser lunch at noon, followed by debate prep, and a gala dinner with key donors tonight."

Muzan sighed, his frustration evident in his voice. "We can't afford to delay this. Azudellin is slipping away from us."

Douma, feeling a bit depleted himself, shrugged. "The earliest we can fit it in is next week. It might be too late by then, but who knows? Maybe a miracle will happen."

In the midst of a very important meeting, a knock separated everyone from their own thoughts. One of Muzan's executive assistants, Nakime, walked in with a stack of freshly printed leaflets, oblivious to the tension in the room.

"Sir Kibutsuji, Sir Hashibira, these just came in. The design team finalized the new posters and pamphlets for the campaign trail."

Muzan barely glanced at the leaflets, his mind racing.

"Thank you; just leave them on the table."

Nakime quickly left after obeying his orders, clearly sensing the gravity of the moment.

With mindless eyes, Muzan continued to rack his brain for any backup plan or anything that could be of significant help to the predicament they currently have. Letting out a resigned sigh, Muzan finally opened his eyes and turned to everyone.

"We'll have to make do with what we have," he said, turning to Douma, who's listening intently. "At our interview with Areswood Times today, maybe we could give Azudellin a special shout-out—say something that can please their ears. This is your specialty, so I leave this to you."

Douma nodded, a peculiar smile present on his face. "I'll handle it. I'll make sure our message is loud and clear in the interview today."

Muzan merely nodded at his running mate before turning to the rest of his party.

"Let's deploy a few of you to Azudellin today; get some boots on the ground. We'll organize smaller meet-and-greets throughout the week to keep our presence felt until we can hold the town hall altogether. Take this chance to highlight your own platforms and campaigns as well, but don't oversell yourselves and turn off the locals. Understand? We can't afford any missteps."

A chorus of 'yes, sir.' and 'understood' rang in the room after listening to Muzan's orders. As usual, his commanding voice and his overall demeanor exuded charisma and extreme strictness, which made everybody in the room yield to him so easily.

Muzan scanned the room, making sure everyone's conviction matched his own. Technically, his party has been dominating almost all polls across the entire country, and it's safe to say that he is the number one candidate to win the elections, but he didn't want to remain complacent.

He doesn't want to attribute his victories to silly things like fate or destiny. He did that before and miserably paid the price; after learning his lesson, he vowed to never rely on foolish things ever again and will do everything in his power to ensure his indisputable victory.

Taking a deep breath, Muzan felt assured again.

"Alright. This meeting is adjourned. Thank you, everyone."

"Oh, really? That's good to hear, darling. I'm happy for you," Muzan said softly, followed by a fond chuckle as you continued to share what happened during your hair appointment.

You were at the salon, enjoying your usual 'pamper time.' While you were getting your hair done, an A-list celebrity approached you. Initially, she only intended to have a small chat, as you are technically an A-list celebrity yourself. However, as your conversation continued, Ume confided in you that she recently got engaged but hasn't announced it to the public yet.

She personally requested you to be her wedding planner, and of course, you gladly accepted.

"Ahh! I'm so excited. I'm still preoccupied with Ms. Rivera's wedding, but so many ideas for Ms. Ume's wedding are already flooding my mind," you told your husband gleefully.

Muzan chuckled again, his eyes turning into crescent moons as a smile spread across his face, a total contrast to the serious expressions he had earlier.

Muzan prided himself on being level headed even in the most dire situations, but all that bravado would always melt away whenever he was with you. He couldn't help it. Your energy has always been contagious, and when it came to you, he was nothing but a man hopelessly in love with his wife.

Douma, seated in the backseat with Muzan, looked at his running mate with pure intrigue, watching him transform into a lovesick puppy while talking to you.

"Ah, yes, the meeting went great, my love. There were a few bumps here and there, but we managed," Muzan said to you. Knowing you, he anticipated your worry and was proven right when he heard the concern in your voice.

"I see... well, if there's anything I can do to help you guys, you know I'd be more than willing," you said from the other line.

Muzan smiled softly, clearly touched by your investment in his endeavors as much as he was in yours.

"Well, if you're free next week, you can tag along to our town hall at Azudellin," he proposed.

You smiled, having left the salon and decided to go to the mall for some much-needed retail therapy. Akaza wasn't with you today, as he had something to take care of, so Gyokko, one of your security guards, was accompanying you today.

"I don't have anything planned next week. I don't mind joining—wait, can I also do my own charity event there? I haven't done one in a while, and don't you think this is the perfect time? It could help your campaign."

Muzan immediately smiled at this. "You're more than welcome, darling. I'll have my people assist you with your preparations. Just let me know what help you need."

"Aww, you don't have to! But thank you. Let's talk more about this at home later. Maybe we could tailor this with your own community outreach initiatives. I believe you have a couple, right? We can make it a joint one, hitting two birds with one stone."

Muzan was listening intently when Douma reached out to let him know they had reached their destination. Muzan gave him a curt nod before returning to you.

"That's right. Alright, let's talk about it later, Y/N. I need to go; Douma and I are here at the studio already. Take care on your way home, okay? Call me if you need anything."

You nodded with a happy smile on your face. "Okay. See you later, my love. And good luck today. I love you," you said with passion.

Muzan replied just as passionately, "I love you too. Mhm, yes. Goodbye. See you later."

After ending the call, he turned to Douma; his whole demeanor had already changed. "Let's go."

Douma complied, climbing out of the car after him.

As they walked inside the building and toward their dressing room, escorted by a handful of media staff, the vice presidential candidate subtly nudged his running mate.

"It seems like that phone call improved your mood, Pres ."

Muzan smirked, his strides toward the TV studio exuding confidence and pride. "My first lady is quite the wonder woman."

Douma chuckled softly, amused by Muzan's demeanor. "It seems like she has quite an effect on you."

"She does," Muzan replied, his tone unapologetically confident. "She's not just my wife; she's a force to be reckoned with and my equal."

Douma raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Muzan's unabashed praise. "You sound almost unbeatable when she's on your side."

Muzan merely nodded, the cocky smile on his face still present. "Indomitable."

Douma chuckled softly. "You've really got it bad, haven't you?"

Muzan shot him a sidelong glance, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Do you not feel the same about Shinobu?"

Douma chuckled again. "Hey now, don't underestimate me. My wife is a force of nature herself."

The proud CEO of Obelisk Kibutsuji and Phario's leading presidential candidate simply offered his running mate a rather shallow chuckle as a response and a nod to convey that he agrees with him.

Finally, they reached the TV studio, and the two of them noticed that it was a full house.

"Are you ready?" Douma asked Muzan.

Muzan's gaze swept across the room, his presence commanding attention.

With a confident smirk, he declared,

"To make history? I was born ready.'"

He made his way to the stage, greeted by applause and camera flashes, projecting an aura of assured victory as he took his seat on the couch.

The day was finally coming to a close. After spending the entire day at the mall shopping, you were exhausted and hungry.

Initially considering Italian cuisine, it suddenly occurred to you that the downtown burger joint you and Akaza had visited a couple of days ago was nearby.

Opting for convenience and familiarity, you decided to head there and also decided to order takeout for both Akaza and Muzan, as well as Kokushibo and the maids and guards.

Surely, both had returned home by now or were on their way. Muzan's jam-packed schedule guaranteed he would appreciate indulging in fast food after such a long day, and Akaza would undoubtedly welcome the gesture.

And it wouldn't hurt to treat your house staff every now and then. It is something you do every now and then, as it's one of your ways of showing appreciation for the services they provide you.

For Muzan, you chose to order the same as yourself, knowing he preferred healthier options but trusting he would enjoy something you approved.

You already ordered Gyokko to prepare the car, so when your orders are ready, you can just hop in and make a beeline home. As you waited at the counter, you hummed to yourself, glancing around the familiar surroundings of the burger joint.

Once again, a sense of déjà vu struck you, from when you entered earlier and throughout your stay. It's honestly starting to worry you.

"It's nice to see you around here again, my dear."

You turned to the voice—a kindly old lady. "Excuse me?" you asked politely.

The old lady smiled warmly. "It's been quite a while since your last visit."

"Oh, I've been busy these past few days," you replied with a smile. "I really enjoyed my first time here last week."

Confusion crossed the old lady's face at your response.

"Aren't you one of our regulars?"

You frowned, puzzled. "I'm not sure I understand..."

"You've been coming here for years , haven't you? Or am I mistaken?"

Your unease grew visible. "I'm sorry, but I think you have me confused with someone else."

Before you could finish, the old lady turned and retrieved a photo from the wall behind her, returning to you with a smile.

"This is you and your fiancé, right?"

She handed you the photo.

In it, Akaza had his arms around your waist, both of you beaming happily.

Your eyes widen in sheer shock.

"What..."

Turning the photo over, you saw a note scribbled on it:

Hakuji Soyama x L/N Y/N - Just got engaged! (03/03/2015)

taglist: @bffrrufr @unadulteratedhandsbanditdreamer @unlikelybananawerewolf

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actual-changeling · 1 year

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Since you have been the first 'Crowley deserves to have his boundaries' person I have seen in the tags on weeks. What do you think about the talk in the fandom on how Crowley should have accepted going to Heaven 'to do good and stop the Apocalypse' and that 'he also rejected Aziraphale'? It personally gives me the creeps because the narrative makes clear that Heaven is a big white nightmare but the fandom seems to be taking the 'Aziraphale might jot be perfect' thing hard and therefore Heaven is fixable now...

Glad to know I am not alone in my little boundaries corner! I'm always here for discussions about it.

And, oh boy, do I have thoughts on that, let's see if I can get them to be somewhat coherent.

I am going to start this off with a metaphor of sorts and hopefully people will be able to follow along. I'm an older sibling and have a little sister, and we grew up in an incredibly abusive and neglectful household.

When I graduated high school, I moved out for university, which was literally the best thing to ever happen to me - I got away, I was/am free! Now I have to deal with the consequences of all that shit though.

If my sister asked me to come back so I can help her fix our mother (entirely theoretical btw she'd never lol) would it be the right thing to say yes? Should I give up my personal freedom, my life, the healing process I am right in the middle of, to go back to a household that broke me? So I can be trapped with a person that will never change again?

The answer is, of course, no. I feel bad for my sister and I am praying she will be able o move out soon, but me going back would not solve a single fucking thing. See where I'm going with this yet?

Crowley left heaven and landed on earth, which was ultimately good for him, but he has a lot to process and heal from; he's right in the middle of his own recovery.

Heaven will not change, it cannot be changed. The entire institution is working as intended, and the intention is to be abusive, manipulative, and have as much power over everyone as possible. You cannot fix that, you need to get rid of it.

Aziraphale has good intentions, but he is also still trapped in that abusive household because he never moved out, he is the sibling that stayed behind, just mentally instead of physically.

Hot take, but many people in this fandom are incapable of understanding that "Aziraphale is acting based on good intentions and is still actively being abused/traumatized" and "Aziraphale did bad and unhealthy things and his relationship with Crowley was co-dependent and toxic" are co-existing. Both are true.

Both. are. true.

He did messed up shit out of a trauma response, but he is still responsible for his actions, and at the same time he deserves a chance to heal and move on from it. Please, at this point I am begging people to understand that this is not a black and white issue.

Crowley did not reject Aziraphale, if anything, Aziraphale rejected him.

Crowley said no to returning to an abusive environment for an impossible task. Crowley said no to sacrificing his mental and physical health for something that he knows will not happen. Crowley, for the first time in his life, set a clear and final boundary and put himself and his life over Aziraphale's wishes.

That is a good thing. It is necessary.

Season 3 will not be about Aziraphale fixing heaven or preventing the second coming (if anything it'll be accidental just like in season 1). It's going to be about him finding his way out of his abusive household and into a healthy environment in which they're both free and can heal.

Apart AND together.

It's not happily ever after, it's not perfect romance, it's not "soul-mates" or anything. It is messy, it is real, it is complicated, and I am so fucking tired of seeing it reduced to "love conquers all".

#alex answers asks #alex talks good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #good omens meta

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melontoyo · 1 year

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fav Onmyoji character and why?🤔

*cracks knuckles* Alright, you got me with this ask.

1. Asura Objectively, the number one favorite. You cannot separate his character or his story from Taishakuten, but in the end I guess it's natural to become very attached to the hero of a specific story, (a double hero story of a hero and an anti-hero, who switch roles halfway through), especially if they're so, so wonderfully fucked up. Asura (and when I speak of him, it applies to Taishakuten too, since neither character would be who they are without the other) is the deepest, most fleshed-out, most complicated and unique character in the entire game. His story and characterization and the accompanying media is so incredibly well produced, it can easily compete (and beat) other highly acclaimed stories out there. To think this was made, as essentially promo material, for a free-to-play mainland Chinese gacha game is absolutely NUTS. Yes I will praise this story and its production level to the stars because it irreversibly changed me. To me, this is the problematic, dramatic, queer love story. You know how Asura tells Taishakuten how meeting him was as if finally finding the thing he had been searching for all his life. This is me with this story, and this character. What I love is how he's so deeply complicated and inherently flawed, that even with the "good end" he chose for himself, his internal conflict is never resolved. He's someone who fights for genuine justice, someone who is genuinely caring, someone who's deep down insecure about himself, about opening himself up, trusting others, someone who wants to live a simple life and enjoy the little things. But he also genuinely enjoys committing mass murder, sadistic torture, he's rash and impulsive, he's someone who naturally chooses cruel means to an end. He swore to never kill again, to go against the very core of him, lock himself up and seal his own powers. And yet the first thing he does upon returning to the world of peace he made possible... is to murder without a second thought. And it's not a plot hole, it's a feature. Even when he's sane, he "learned" to deal with his own trauma in a completely unhealthy way, possibly as self punishment. This is obvious by how he's so loving and caring when dealing with Taishakuten's trauma.... Also I just want to add one thing. I'm glad I'm somehow able to gleefully ignore the fandom at large because, sorry, they don't get it. I'm tired of seeing nothing but fans taking everything interesting away from this story and washing it down to "uwu cute domestic boyfriends". Like heck no, these characters are so good because they are made to be incredibly fucked up.

2. Orochi Tough choice... but it's Orochi, the reason why I started playing this game. Again, a character who's absolutely delicious to rotate around in my brain like a rotisserie chicken because he's so complicated and so inherently flawed, and yet so right at the same time. Imho, he's an amazing antagonist and again, I very much distance myself from the fandom wo won't shut up about "snake eating books". Because both due to the nature of the game and its subsequent production approach, and because of its target audience, which is very much young adults despite the 8+ rating, where I don't even understand how they achieved this rating with all the outright graphic violence, drug abuse, and 900 dollar "micro" transactions etc, the story won't be explained and presented to you on a silver plate. You're supposed to come up with your own interpretation for certain parts, and it's exactly why stories for adult audiences are so enjoyable, for me anyway. Something that is a major contributing factor to me loving Orochi so much is Miyano Mamoru's voice acting which is absolutely insane. Not sure how the director instructed him, or how much they pay him, but basically he sounds like on the verge of an orgasm the entire goddamn time with the way how he deeply savors each word on his tongue before speaking it, and it's so incredibly fitting. Maybe Miyano Mamoru understands Orochi better than the writers themselves, who knows... Regardless, the way how Orochi's character and personality is so perfectly portrayed through the voice acting is heavenly. His voice is like sickly sweet, thick, honey, innocent and nonchalant, yet dominating and bewitching. I mean. You can just hear for yourself. (Note, it's best if you can understand Japanese because the official English translations unfortunately suck.)

3. Suzuka Wait, an actually good-aligned character??? Anyway, Suzuka is a wonderful take on the "big sister" archetype. She is big-hearted, kind, accepting, strong, determined, and has a great sense of responsibility. But she ends up being too trusting in others, in the way that she believes others are just as strong as her to fend for themselves, which ends up literally devastating her entire found family and the place they called home, literally killing her most important person in body and mind, her found brother. And yet, she's so strong to be able to not give up, to accept all the pain, to heal and to rebuild what they have lost. Also, as someone with the best big sister in the world, her character just makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. She's wonderful.

And as a bonus, here's a selection of other favs in no particular order, because hell, in the end it's a waifu collection game and there's bound to be a lot of favs for varying reasons.

Enma, because I'm not immune to bewitching milfs, and her design is one of the absolute best in the entire game.

Tsukuyomi, because they're so sad and wonderfully questionable, also actually canon non-binary.

Onikiri. Groomed to be fucked up, and yet after regaining his free will, he willingly steps back into that path, because it's what he inherently craves. So delicious.

Garuda, my favorite disaster bi bird and Asura's pet dog. Probably one of the "normalest" and ironically most likeable characters. He's a bit conceited, strong and actually.... smart. And smart in the way that he knows his place, knows his limits and won't try things out of his league. And yet he can't help his smugness and want to test the waters... but he's a survivor still : ^)

And honorary mention to my fav hairy braindead bimbo slut, Kamikui. Yep I love them very dearly, and they're also carried by incredible voice acting.

#ask #anon #onmyoji #I suppose if I tag it this will go into the public tag #when I just want to tag it for my own blog #oh well #sorry in advance

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thedevilinherself · 11 months

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So I finished the BG3 after doing every side mission I could find. And.... I have feelings

So I played with the poly mod, so I romanced everyone but Lae'zel and Shadowheart who I couldn't get the romance to start for. I also had the mod that lets me have all the companions with me, so I don't know how or if that changes the ending cut scenes.

But first off, the endings were way too short. I heavily dislike endings that have you fight the final battle, give you a cut scene, then end. Give us a little something after to come down from the high of the victory and see the happiness of the ending we fought so hard for.

Speaking of happiness; I can't say I'm happy with anyone's endings. I told Lae'zel she should go back to her people cause I know that's what she's wanted this whole time, so she left to free her people. This was in my opinion the happiest companion ending I got, even though it's still bitter sweet and doesn't feel like theirs closure cause she still has to fight to free her people with no time to rest.

Astarion just started to burn in the sun and ran off, then Shadowheart was like "poor guy, no more sun for him" then I never saw him again. Kinda shitty considering everything he fought for and the fact I was in a relationship with him. And it's not like the ending just picked one of my love interests to give the ending for, since all my other partners acknowledged me as their partner in their cut scenes (more on that in a moment).

Gale just stood at the edge of the doc and was like "the crown fell into the water. Guess I gotta find it" and then talked about his ex some more before saying we'll do it together. Didn't like that his arch was left open ended as well with him still afflicted with the orb AND wanting to return to Mystra who is terrible for so many reasons.

I got nothing for Shadowheart, and I don't know if Wyll can have his own scene, but his was lumped in with Karlach's for mine. Karlach is dying, her engine burning up, and she says she loves me and is glad we could be together. Wyll was really upset and yells "my love, we have to get her back to avernus! It's the only way to save her". Karlach didn't want to go back, but we convinced her and tell her we will be there with her and will protect her till we find a way to cure her. The three of us go to avernus and it ends with us about to fight imps and I guess I'm in a poly with the two of them, which I didn't know was an option, but them both referring to me as their love in that cut scene was a scripted thing so I don't think it was cause of the mod. Either way, I hated that at the end of the game, we haven't cured Karlach and now she's back in avernus. All her endings seem to suck as, spoiler, she either dies, returns to avernus, or becomes a mind flayer and has to live in hiding. So all of her endings suck.

I hated how none of the characters felt like they got a good resolution or much closure. There wasn't a sense of happiness or real victory. That kinda thing can work in DND cause the campaign can keep going, but in a video game, where there is no way to move forward, it seriously sucks. I put 300+ hours into this game, made so many choices to ensure my companions were safe and happy, tried to get them each the best ending I could without looking up too many spoilers, and in the end, they each get 3-5 minute cut scenes where their main character quest is unfinished and left in limbo? That just feels really crushing and disheartening as a gamer. In my next playthrough, why bother trying to help Karlach? She'll still be uncured by the end. Gale's just going to go back to his abusive god or maybe still blow up. Who knows. Astarion will still be hiding in the shadows, stuck as a spawn forever.

Over all, it just kinda sucked that not one of them felt like their arch got wrapped up/resolved.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #tav #lae'zel #wyll #wyll ravengard #gale of waterdeep #gale #spoilers #karlach #shadowheart #rant #video games

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femboyhorror · 11 months

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i've grown tired of this body - fall apart without me body

【A/N: cross-posted from my ao3! if you enjoy this feel free to check out my other works and consider buying me a coffee maybe. :3 this one shot came out of the blue. as you can probably guess by now this is just one big vent one shot that started out just being me wanting to make a fic about trans!dipper dealing with his period while i was having to deal with mine and ended up spiraling into me projecting my own experiences with my parents being awful and transphobic onto sir dippingsauce here and imagining what'd it be like having a found family. tw ahead for some impled/references child abuse of the verbal kind, transphobia from dipper's a+ parents, some semi graphic descriptions of the fun times that come with menstruation and one use of the word queer. (it's not used in the context of bigotry, btw!) big shout out to anyone out there dealing with the red beast, to my fellow cisn't individuals who may deal with it. i hope life is kind to you, that you have some rad people you can turn to comfort or at least get to have some nice snacks during these trying times. 】

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The bus carrying him back to the forests of Oregon rattles and shakes as it makes track across the winding roads. By the second hour he's feeling a decent amount of claustrophobia, his legs wave back and forth with a need to get up and walk and a spring in the seat he was in had popped out and was just scratching at him enough that it made him want to scream.

And yet despite the minor discomforts, a sense of comfort washes over him when he sees the familiar towering pine trees slowly replace the long stretching plains in the window. It was a feeling that he'd sorely missed throughout the last ten months and was never more evident until he saw the green of those trees. By the time the old weathered sign passed by, proudly proclaiming 'Welcome to Gravity Falls', a full smile spreads across his face. One that he didn't need to look to know that his sister shared with him.

They were finally back in Gravity Falls.

They were finally home.

Ignoring the shouted reminder from the bus driver to wait until the bus had fully stopped, the mystery twin duo practically flew out of their seats and rushed off the bus with their suitcases in hand and - in Mabel's case - pet pig at their side. By the bus stop, sporting warm smiles, were their Grunkles Stan and Ford.

"Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford!" The twins had greeted them in near unison. The two opened their arms just in time for their niblings to practically tackle them in a big hug tight enough to make a few parts of Stan's back in particular pop courtesy of Mabel.

"Whoa whoa there kids, you tryin' to kill your old man?!" Protested the old con-man, though his own smile betrayed his joy to see the two. Eventually the group hug came to an end and Stan helped the twins put their luggage into the Stanleymobile.

"Welcome back, my boy." These words, spoken to Dipper in a gentle, caring tone, made a wave of emotion swell in his heart and he barely kept himself from crying right then and there as he replied,

"I'm glad to be back."

'My boy' he thinks with pride.

Because that's who he was here. In Gravity Falls he wasn't expected to be the quiet and polite little girl. Instead he was a beloved great nephew. He was a protecting twin brother. He was Dipper Pines and the sense of joy he feels when he thinks this brings some tears of relief to his eyes.

If Ford notices his sudden burst of emotion then he chooses not to comment on it to Dipper's relief, and Stan soon pipes up as they all pile into his old car.

"Alright, I don't know about you guys but I'm hungry enough to eat one of those multi-headed cows. Why don't we go back to the shack so I can make us some…"

"Stancakes?" Mabel guesses with a bright smile.

"That's right! And Mabel's helping me out this time since Ford's still banned from the kitchen."

"For cosmo's sake, Stanley, the last time I burnt anything was months ago!"

"Yeah, and I still have no idea how you managed to set the entire kitchen on fire just by pouring cereal!"

"Oooh, good thing I brought my special rainbow glitter!"

"Pumpkin, that glitter is edible, right?"

Dipper relaxed during the car ride home, comfortably letting himself get lost in the familiar family banter and, at least for the moment, letting himself drift off and forget about all the pain from Piedmont.

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Breakfast back at the Shack was, as expected with the Pines, a lively affair. Mabel, naturally, manages to make her own Stancakes into what Dipper could only describe as a rainbow colored death wish of syrup and sprinkles with perhaps some renments of pancakes in there but he couldn't tell for sure. The four of them conversed about stories from their time apart, from their grunkles tales of their sea-faring adventures to Mabel providing stories from school such as amusing misadventures and some extracurricular activities they had gotten into.

Dipper tried to chime in as well, though he was somewhat distracted by a dull ache that had come up occassionally over the past few days. Radiating from his lower stomach area, it made it hard for Dipper to focus and he could barely manage to eat more than a single pancake despite having not eating anything that morning.

At one point he catches Ford giving him a look of concern but he simply waves him off, mouthing a silent 'I'm fine' to him.

Not long after breakfast was finished the twins took to their old room in the Mystery Shack's attic to unpack as their great uncle's assured them they could handle the dishes on their own.

"Hey, Dipper…?" Mabel's words, spoken in a tone unusually soft for the bubbly girl, break through the silence in the attic. "Don't you think we should tell Stan and Ford what ha-?"

"No." He quickly cuts in, harsher than he meant to and he immediately feels guilty but he doesn't doesn't doesn't want to think about Piedmont yet. "I just… I'm not ready… I just want to be Dipper a little longer…" The last part was barely above a whisper but still cuts through the silent attic like a shotgun blast.

"You are Dipper. To me, and to Ford and Stan. Nothing will ever make then treat you otherwise." The words 'unlike mom and dad' hang in the air, unsaid but understood by both twins. He wants to believe her, wants to trust that he'll always be seen as their great nephew but the echoing words of their parents make him falter.

"I will tell them, just…" He takes a deep, shaky breath. "…just not yet."

A beat passes and he almost expects Mabel to tell him that he should know by now to trust family, to tell him that honesty was the best policy and that he won't have to feel this weight on his chest if he just opened up to them.

"That's alright, just tell them when you're ready." She said instead.

The guilt remains.

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The dawn of what Mabel has dubbed their first official day of summer begins with the dull ache from before now returning as the sharp pain of many needles as well as an unwelcome crimson visitor.

And while Dipper had expected to have to deal with good old shark week after the pseudo-cramps he'd been feeling for the last few days it still never made the day it finally started any less difficult. As if he hadn't had a hard enough time with dysphoria before returning to Gravity Falls the world seemed to have it out for Dipper with a wholly unwanted visitor would add insult to injury.

But, after some extra time cleaning himself in the bathroom, he resolves to push away the pain and stress and makes his way down the creaky stairs of the Shack in a slow and shaky manner…

..and is immediately greeted by the distinct smell of smoke. Confused and maybe a little bit panicked, he follows the scent to the kitchen where he discovers the source; a pan of half charred yet somehow also half raw eggs. Holding the pan was Mabel, unsuccessfully trying to salvage the mess with Stan standing by. By Dipper's guess he was trying to teach Mabel to cook with… mixed results. Smiling at the duo's antics, he takes a seat at the table where he spots his great uncle Ford, nursing a cup of coffee and seemingly entirely unbothered by the disaster that is Stan's cooking lesson.

"Good morning, my boy." He greets Dipper with a kind smile, and the gender euphoria of being called 'my boy' is almost enough to make him forget about his current pain and discomfort. Keyword: almost. Seeming to notice this, Ford furrows his brows in a concerned manner. "Are you feeling quite alright, Dipper? You look pale?"

"Oh, uh, I'm fine, Grunkle Ford, just tired is all…" He lied, forcing himself to pick up and bite into an apple despite how little he wanted to eat just to further prove he was alright. As he robotically chews into the apple Ford continues talking.

"Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to accompany me on a little walk to check on the forests around here, but if you're not feeling well…"

"Nononononono! We can go for a walk!" He quickly cuts in to Ford's owlish surprise. As much as he - in his current state of mild to extreme pain - wanted to spend the day in bed reading, the idea of being alone in the attic felt awful. Even if the cramps would kill him, he really wants to spend more time with his great uncle.

"Alright then, we can go after breakfast if that's alright with you?" Dipper forces his pain away to smile back to Ford.

"Y-yeah! Sounds great, I'll go grab my shoes."

And so Ford watched his great nephew run out of the kitchen, and he frowns at the barely eaten apple as a sense of growing worry settles in his gut.

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The Gravity Falls forests were always a beauty to be able to behold. From the fantastical sorts of creatures and flora that called the woodland their home to even the more mundane sorts of plants and animals that shared the forest with the strange. This morning was no different as the sunlight filtered through the treetops above lit the forest in a soft light that made the whole place feel nothing short of enchanting.

Ford lead the way through the forest, chattering casually about the different points of interest and pointing out some of the newer pieces of intrigue that he thinks his great nephew will enjoy. And as hard as Dipper tries to focus on following and nodding along he can barely concentrate on his great uncle's words through the haze of pain he was drowning in.

After a few minutes of this that feel more like hours, Ford comes to a stop and looks back to Dipper, a frown speaking to deep worry on his face.

"Dipper, are you absolutely sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if you're ever hurt or sick, right?" Dipper had to near bite on the inside of his mouth to keep himself together. The genuine care his great uncle was showing him combined with the guilt he felt at ruining their walk on top of the pain that was still radiating through him made it hard to hold back the tears.

He wants to tell Ford that he was fine, maybe blame it on sleepiness again and keep walking, but a particularly sharp stabbing feeling hits and all he can do is lean pathetically against a nearby tree, trying to breathe through the sudden pain.

"Dipper! You need to tell me what's…" His great uncle's shout of alarm slowly trails off and it wasn't too long until the realization of why fills Dipper with pure shame. Running down his legs were bright red trails of his period blood.

He wants to disappear. He wants nothing more than a spontaneous bottomless pit to form underneath him and take him away right then and there. Unfortunately for him no such pits appear and he can only settle for locking his gaze onto the forest floor. Despite having outgrown the hero worship he held for his great uncle that fateful summer, Ford was still someone he held high respect and admiration for. And now that he's seen Dipper in such an embarrassing position - bleeding on himself in the middle of the woods - he doesn't know if he can ever face him again. He could only imagine the look of disappointment, disgust even.

His thoughts of self-loathing are cut off by a hand laid on his shoulder.

"Dipper, please look at me. I'm not mad at you, I just need you to tell me what's wrong." His great uncle's voice oddly seems to hold none of the disappointment or disgust he had expected. He chances a look up and Ford's expression was not one of frustration but one of a deep concern but also a look of knowing.

"It's… a lot to explain… can we go back to the Shack first?" He curses the way his voice wobbles as he voices this but Ford doesn't seem to mind, only nodding before helping him walk the short way back. No other words are exchanged on the way back and Dipper is quick to duck into the bathroom to clean himself up. A quick shower later and he leaves the bathroom to find a bottle of pain medication left on a nearby table along with a glass of water. A brief smile crosses Dipper's face as he can easily guess who left the items.

Soon enough the four Pines were all brought together in the kitchen as Dipper prepared for another difficult conversation, inwardly praying to a god he didn't believe in for things to go better the second time around.

"…My name wasn't always Dipper…" He slowly began, trying to relax his tense shoulders. "Growing up, I always felt like there was something wrong about me. I hated being called by my birthname, hated being called a girl. My parents would tell me that all girls feel that way, but it was more than that. Eventually I start to realize that I maybe wasn't a girl at all…" He chances a look back up at Stan and Ford to see their reactions. A part of him expected to see judgement but instead the two of them are attentive, waiting for Dipper to continue. Feeling a boost of confidence from this, he speaks again.

"I ended up discovering the term transgender, and right then I felt like things suddenly started to make sense. The way I've been feeling, the way I saw myself… and when my parents told me and Mabel that we were going to be going to visit a new town full of new people for the summer, I realized that was the perfect chance for me to try out being a boy for the first time. And that summer ended up being the first time in my life I felt like I was able to be myself." Just thinking about that first magical summer brought a smile to Dipper's face. He remembers the way his hands shook when he first introduces himself as Dipper. As Mabel's twin brother. Remembers the trials and tribulations he went through the summer, and yet despite it all he truly felt like he'd grown into a proud young man by the end of it all.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys sooner…" He finally says as he finishes his explanation. For a moment, the two older men seem to take this in before Stan speaks up.

"I'm glad you feel safe enough to tell us, kid, although I kinda knew you were trans already."

"Wait, you knew?!" Dipper shouts before he can stop himself. He suddenly starts to panic, wondering if he hadn't really passed as well as he thought he did. Stan quickly puts his hands up and puts his fears to rest as he adds in,

"I mean I was there when you two goobers were born! I'm not a spring chicken, Dipper. I've had my fair share of experiences with the gays and the queers. When you two got off the bus and you were introducing yourself as Mabel's twin brother Dipper, I thought to myself 'As long as the kid's happy, good on him!'"

"The concept of gender is, frankly, one that is much closer to a spectrum than most people realize. There are plenty of dimensions out there where gender is explored much more than here, for example I've been to one dimension where gender was traded with and bartered like a sort of currency!"

"What my nerd brother is trying to say," Stan finally cuts in, knowing Ford was likely to go on a full hour long tangent otherwise. "is that he's happy you felt safe enough to tell the both of us."

"Yes, of course, my boy!" A bright smile is spread across Dipper's face, the acceptance given from both his great uncles filling him with relief.

"See, Dipper? I just knew that our grunkles wouldn't have treated you like mom and dad did." His sister chimes in with her own knowing smile. Ford, however, quickly catches onto what she said.

"What do you mean 'like mom and dad', Mabel? Did your parents not take it well?" His question, although asked with no ill intentions, has the immediate effect of making both of the twin's moods fall. While Dipper shrinks in on himself, Mabel adopts a look of frustration and lets out a huff.

"Mom and dad are poopheads!" Ford and Stan both frown. That certainly didn't sound good. After a moment, Dipper speaks up.

"I… I hadn't told them about the whole 'being transgender' think before going to Gravity Falls. I was still just trying to figure it all out back then. Of course, they catch onto the new name I was using here. Not too long after me and Mabel came back they start questioning me about what was going on. Why I was hiding things from them…" He remembers that day all too well. Of being cornered with questions and not being able to rely on Mabel because she had been out with friends at the time. "I tried to explain to them how much happier I had been bit they wouldn't listen. They kept saying how their 'poor sweet daughter must have been brainwashed' and that 'it's just a phase you'll grow out of'…" Dipper then trailed off, his voice shaking more as he becomes more choked up. Mabel quickly scoots her chair closer, letting her brother lean on her for comfort.

"We hoped that they would end up coming around but they wouldn't even try to understand him. They kept using the wrong name and pronouns for him no matter how much we tried to correct them or ask them not to!" She angrily adds in. "One day they even told him that he should be grateful that he hadn't been thrown out!"

Knowing how unaccepted and uncared for their beloved nephew had been in the last ten months was already deeply troubling for Stan and Ford, but hearing these especially cruel words hit the two far too close to home. The hopes they had that Dipper and Mabel would at least have the caring and safe home that they never got were dashed, and they share a look of regret before turning to look at their niblings.

"Dipper, I… I'm so sorry your parents have been treating you like this. I had no idea."

"You're not going to send us back, are you?" Dipper asks quietly. At their great uncle's looks of confusion, Mabel explains.

"We… kind of didn't tell them we were visiting…" She admits as she diverts her eyes sheepishly.

"They tried to forbid us from coming back this summer, saying how this town 'corrupted me'," Her brother explains with air quotations and an eye roll. "So we both combined our allowances and bought some bus tickets without telling them." There it was.

This was certainly a difficult situation. It was only a matter of time before the twins' parents figured out where they went off too, and once they figured out that they were staying with Stan and Ford they would naturally demand they bring them straight back to California. And trying to keep them away could result in some legal trouble being sent their way.

And yet both Stanley and Stanford, unfortunately, had some personal experiences with being forced to hide who you were. Memories of hiding love letters, of repressing their true selves for fear of their old fashioned father finding out, and they refused to make their poor nephew suffer through the same type of hell. And thankfully, they had a whole town of people who would be willing to help them.

"Well there's no way I'm going to pay to be sending you dorks back, so it looks like you're stuck here." Stan declared gruffly, although it was obvious enough that he wanted his niblings to be at Gravity Falls just as much as the two of them wanted to be there.

"Dipper, in the time I've been back in this dimension I've seen you as nothing less than a brave and strong young man. And if your parents are too blinded by their own narrow-minded beliefs to see that, too, than at least know that you'll always be our amazing grandnephew." By now, Dipper was crying in earnest. Not the tears of frustration or sorrow that he had experienced all too often in Piedmont but tears of pure happiness. Stan and Ford both stand up and go to give their great nephew a hug.

"By the way, Dipper," Ford says after the hug ends. "I forgot to ask but did those pain meds I give you help.

"Oh, honestly I hadn't really thought about my cramps for a while, but now that I think about it they're much better. Thanks." Ford simply smiles.

"Don't mention it, my boy. It's the least I can do."

"If your cramps come back I probably got a heating pad somewhere in this place. Used it whenever my back hurt worse than usual." Stan chimes in.

"I heard there's going to be a cheesy movie marathon starting in a bit! Maybe we can grab some snacks, relax around Stan's chair and watch?" Dipper smiles at his sister's suggestion, feeling his appetite come back now that the worst of his pain was taken care of.

"Sounds good to me."

And so that's how the Pines family found themselves all settled around the living room, Dipper lounging comfortably on Stan's chair and Mabel settled on the floor while Stan and Ford sat leaned against the chair. While Ford and Dipper would take turns in pointing out the inaccuracies of the monster movies, ("Please, a tiny splinter like that would never take out that powerful of a vampire.") Stanley would more often make jokes about the cheesy effects ("Pshh, I could put together taxidermy parts that look more realistic than those werewolves!") and Mabel was happy to just happy to comment on dreamy actors and things she thought were cute. ("Aw, it's too bad that bat had to get shot, it was so adorable!") At one point Stan and Ford playfully argue over who would be able to defeat the most zombies which then devolves into the two throwing popcorn at each other.

And all the while a single thought stays in Dipper's head, bringing a sense of comfort with it: "I'm finally home."

»»⋅------ ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ---------►

#gravity falls #hurt dipper pines #dipper pines angst #pines family #dipper and ford bonding #ventfic #tw menstruation #tw implied child abuse #tw implied transphobia #mutt's writing

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b1rdbra1ned · 1 year

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Oh no I hate Fan too. Fan was not a good character in season 2 and he didn't actually face any consequences for his actions. Paintbrush was like the closest we got to Fan being criticised and people considered PB to be the one overreacting. Paintbrush is done so dirty because the fandom put their own belief about the bright lights being family even though Paintbrush never actually got along with them. They talked to tt like once, bickered with lb until the last ep they were in and then there's. Fan..

Also I think I hate fantube a little more after the theyrebasicallycanon polls put enstars against ii. Glad rinniki won they deserve the win against fantube imo.

Sorry I was tired of being critical of ii so I don't like it anymore 😔

But hiiii we haven't talked much in a while ik :(( I'm on holiday rn but feel free to talk to me if you want!

ALLLL OF THIS

Paintbrush was in every way in the right to yell at fan, he constantly bothered and nagged at them and the stuff about marshmallow was definitely the final straw

i only ever liked the whole bright lights family thing because honestly it could’ve worked imo!!! but they just never took that chance they never really developed the brights lights AT ALL most season (beside from marshmallow) the bright light felt more like the comical team (not really but can’t think of a better way to describe them) compared to the grand slams who definitely got way more focus and development

it’s shitty because i think the brights lights could’ve had potential but they were just casted aside until the last few episodes where “oh hey look development!! :] oh wait nvm they’re eliminated now <3” like ????

paintbrush definitely got the short end of the stick here. literally having what was supposed to be their episode mainly centred around tt and lb and having their feelings about marsh being completely casted aside. i wish more was done w/ marshmallow and them vs them and lb

looking back a lot of their scenes w lb just felt kinda off??? i don’t think can articulate this probably rn but paintbrush deserved better

but at the same time i wish the team got more time w/ each other in general, they have so many great opportunities to do it like in the maze episodes but again they’re kinda just cast aside as just comedy

and w/ s3 oh boy i hate what they did with paintbrush and their “arc” in the last few episodes. they quite literally and figuratively took away their edges, i miss sassy, sarcastic confident paintbrush they feel so dulled down in iii and it’s like no one in the writing team understands them at all. it’s like they didn’t even write s2 (but hey back to the point i mentions last post that show writers really ought to stop listening to fans sometimes because this is how fanon seeps in </3)

i hate how the a lot of the fans view paintbrush especially if it’s only ever in the context of lightbrush or shipping (another thing that pisses me off btw is how they’re always treated as irrational and or just plain out abusive FUCK PEOPLE WHO PORTRAY PAINTBRUSH LIKE THIS)

they’re such a great character who gets absolutely fucked over by the writing and fandom (not all of the fandom of course, i love seeing ppls takes and discussions on them but it’s just some fans who just </3)

i don’t like discouraging ships, if ppl are mature and respectful and don’t put other ppl down then that’s all great and stuff but my problem is that i really wish paintbrush was just seen as more than their ships yknow

Fan is.. the more i think about canon him the more im like yeaaa… uh no thanks…. (mainly w/ him and paintbrush and cabby)

idk if im even allowed to say they changed tt this season because.. she didn’t honestly have a lot of screentime last season compared to a whole lot of other characters, but in iii she feels off?? honestly all of them do even the new contestants later on during the season

idk if i have the words to describe why s3’s characterisation is so off and at time frustrating, their arcs too, was going to point out some characters but honestly i could make a case for nearly ALL the contestants the ones who weren’t voted out early at least

that’s the end of my ramble tho, sorry ik i talked a lot about paintbrush, i want to talk about the others too but they’re the one i still even think about. hopefully this isn’t a bit hard to read, ik im not that organised w my rambles sometimes

#txt #niicookie #glad fantube lost that poll <33 #and YEA IT’S BEEN A WHILE SINCE WE’VE TALKED #hope your holiday’s going well!! recently got back from a 2 week trip (spent like a total of 24 hrs in the airport and on planes going home💀#got this week and the next week off school so i’ll be online a bit more >:33 #might pop in your inbox now and again to say hello or ask questions about your new fixations >:DD #ii neg #pigeon post 💌

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licncourt · 2 years

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Hello, Im not sure if you've discussed this already but I was wondering if you could give me a breakdown of what happened with Claudia in the books? From all the mentions of her I assume she dies at some point in the series, but I was wondering if you could go into the specifics a bit? What led to that, what happened, how did Lestat and Louis react, how did that affect their relationship? And then I suppose, your opinion on if that same thing will happen in this show, or if things have changed so much we can't tell yet?

I really appreciate your commentary on the books. I've found a lot of interesting opinions and information on your blog since watching the first episode. Tysm for your expertise and willingness to chat about it <3

Yeah, for sure! And thank you so much!! I'm so glad you like my rambling meta posts and unsolicited opinions on these little guys. Hopefully this will be useful to you and anyone else who's curious about Claudia. She's an amazing character and so richly written.

Obviously reading the book itself will give a better picture of her, but I can definitely summarize her story. Under the cut for spoilers obviously, since it involves several major book events that will likely come up in the show as well.

I don't know how much you know about book Claudia, but just to summarize her backstory: Claudia is adopted by Louis and Lestat in 1795 when she's ~5 years old and newly orphaned after her mother has died of plague. Rather than a fire, she's brought to the brink of death when Louis feeds on her after losing control in a state of starvation. In a final bid to keep Louis from leaving him, Lestat turns the dying Claudia and basically babytraps Louis in their "marriage".

I don't know it will be portrayed in the show, but in the book, Lestat is extremely controlling of Louis and Claudia, pretty verbally/mentally abusive to them, and withholds as much knowledge of vampire nature from them as he can to keep them dependent.

After sixty years of living as a family in Rue Royale with things disintegrating over time, Claudia finally snaps, driven pretty insane by the lack of autonomy and the fact that she's trapped in a child's body, especially after learning the truth about how Lestat was the one who turned her. In 1860, she manages to convince Lestat that she wants to make amends with him and gets him to drink the blood of two young boys who she poisoned with laudanum (opium). While Lestat is incapacitated from the drugs and the betrayal, she slits his throat and stabs him to "death".

Louis is there while this is happening and even though it destroys him, he lets Claudia finish the job so they can be free of his tyranny and have their own lives, essentially choosing his daughter's happiness over Lestat. Together, they throw his body in the swamp and begin making preparations for travel to Europe. Before they can leave, Lestat does come back after them even though he's all gross and corpesy (affectionately dubbed Swampstat by the fandom), but Louis sets him on fire and runs off with Claudia for Europe.

Basically they fuck around in Eastern Europe for a while killing zombie vampire revenants and searching for other vampires like themselves, but are unsuccessful. They eventually end up in Paris in 1862 where Louis finally meets two vampires, Santiago and, more importantly, Armand, the leader of a coven of vampires who live in and operate a theater.

Armand is 400ish years old and develops an immediate obsession with Louis and Louis is taken in by the knowledge Armand is giving him. Unfortunately for Claudia, Armand knows that Louis will never abandon her to be his companion. Claudia is terrified that Louis WILL leave her because she sees what's happening, so she convinces Louis to make her a new caretaker by turning a bereaved mother, Madeleine, into a vampire.

Still, Louis can't bring himself to leave Claudia and Armand loses patience, realizing he has to get Claudia out of the picture before he can have Louis. He sends a mob of his vampire underlings to kidnap Louis, Claudia, and Madeleine and bring them to the theater, where Claudia is put on trial for the murder of Lestat (Armand knows what happened from looking in their minds).

In the midst of this, it's revealed that Lestat has healed enough to follow his family to Paris and beg for them back, but weak and disoriented from Armand's influence and in his desperation to save at least Louis, he confirms that it was Claudia who attacked him. (In The Vampire Lestat, we find out more of what happened between Lestat and Armand right before this, but it's not relevant here).

Armand is absent for all of this so it looks like it's happening without his consent, but Claudia is sentenced to death and Louis is locked in a coffin and buried alive. Obviously, Armand "comes to the rescue" and frees Louis, but he finds out that while he was imprisoned, Claudia and Madeleine were killed by being locked in a cell with an open top and exposed to the sun.

This is a huge turning point for Louis and he's completely destroyed by this, consumed by grief until he's a shell of himself. He sees Lestat again after finding out, and he's also devastated, sobbing and holding what's left of her dress. He rejects Lestat's final pleas to stay with him and runs off, but returns the next night just before sunrise and burns the theater down, killing all the vampires there except Armand (and Lestat we find out later).

After that, Lestat disappears and Louis, with nothing and no one else, travels with Armand for several decades, but he's basically an empty husk at this point. Armand finally leaves him after accepting that all Louis' passion and humanity died with Claudia.

Sometime in the 1920s or early 30s, Louis returns to New Orleans and finds that Lestat is there and has been living in an abandoned house for decades, half a corpse and too weak and mentally scarred to function. They have a bit of a heart to heart where Lestat begs Louis to stay and be his companion again, but Louis says no and leaves again to wander alone.

We know from The Vampire Lestat that soon after this, Lestat buries himself in the Earth to heal and hide from the world, but this last meeting is the last thing Louis knows of him at the time of the interview. Except for the final exchange between Louis and Daniel, that's where the first book ends.

Claudia is mentioned by Lestat in his brief version of the events of IWTV at the end of the second book, and he says he isn't angry and that she was right to do what she did (and that he would've done the same in her situation).

In the third book, another character has visions of Claudia at Rue Royale, and Louis and Lestat reunite there after the main events of the novel, checking to see if Claudia's ghost is really there (it's not). In the very cursed books that are book four on, Claudia is mentioned shockingly little, but we know that Lestat never tolerates any slander of her and Louis is still actively grieving by the early 2000s.

In the book Merrick, Louis speaks with a spirit who claims to be Claudia and it says horrible things to him, that she never loved him, her death was his fault etc, but it's pretty implied that it's an evil spirit pretending to be Claudia. Still, Louis believes it because it confirms his worst fears and it's the primary factor in his suicide attempt in that book (another event that brings him and Lestat together after a period of separation).

She isn't mentioned much after that, but I suppose it's to be expected. The character of Claudia is a representation of Anne Rice's daughter, Michelle, who died of leukemia at five. The first book was written while she was grieving. I think the treatment and presence of Claudia in the narrative reflects what kind of mindset AR was in when writing more then any kind of consistent arc.

As for the show, I honestly have no idea what will happen with Claudia. There's a scene from one of the trailers that some people think shows Claudia in modern clothes, meaning she doesn't die, but I don't find it to be definitive proof. I don't think her survival is out of the question with all the changes that have already been made to her story though, and I do think it's possible that they'll follow the original draft of the book where Claudia runs off and leaves Louis instead of dying.

With the aged up Claudia, I feel that's more feasible. I don't think there's any happy ending for a Claudia permanently stuck in the body of a five year old, but maybe fourteen can be dealt with? I'm not sure, but I do have more hope for this Claudia. It's too early to say though.

#answered #vc #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv spoilers #interview with the vampire spoilers #iwtv spoilers #the vampire chronicles

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ryttu3k · 7 months

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A selection of moments from my last session/s of Tavias' run. All spoilery for endgame. Image-heavy, used all 30 image slots.

"When I said I wanted to get more in touch with my draconic ancestry, this was not what I had in mind."

This is an interesting example because Tavias was in this situation. Two days ago. And his exact response was, "Actually, I would rather die than become a monster under a more powerful being's thrall."

Not capped: *gross sobbing over Dear Ansur*

Not capped: Just for the record, the line that officially pushed Astarion from approval 99 to approval 100 was:

Halsin: "Perhaps you'd care for a little extra company..."

Tavias: "The more the merrier!"

Astarion: *approves*

(I hc he's quietly nursing a raging crush on Halsin and the V relationship absolutely has the potential to turn into a full triangle, and not just because I'm hopeless for Halstarion.)

I really wish you could talk to Astarion about this later. I'm very glad you can talk to Halsin, but this should be addressed too! I'm glad he feels confident and safe enough to push his own boundaries, I just really wish we could like... check in on him and make sure he's doing okay. See also: helping Halsin recognise that what happened to him was trauma.

Seven years too late (he was seventeen years old, Ulder), but finally some parental approval!

Not capped: the forehead touch after the kiss with Halsin is. Goddamn adorable ;_;

Genuinely motivational tbh

This is what we call an, "Ah fuck" moment.

Okay so. Orin basically saved the world.

Like obviously the Brain breaking free from the influence of the crown is a bad thing. But consider the alternative - a Brain who willingly follows the Dark Urge. A Brain who doesn't rebel, that rebellion leading to its ultimate downfall. A Brain who does follow the Dark Urge is a Brain in a world where Bhaal wins.

But Orin was jealous. Orin wanted her father's love. Orin attacks her sibling, and that sibling wakes up and goes, actually, you know what? I don't think I do want to be Bhaal's puppet for the rest of my existence, and the world is saved.

Dude there are plenty of other options that don't involve that. What is wrong with you.

Not capped: Beorn Wunterbrood being like, "Balduran's grace be with you" and Tavias just going, "......yeahhhhh haha about that, there's a non-zero chance we're gonna have to kill Balduran. Just. Just so you know."

You got it, boss. #ResistDurgeIsChosenOfJergalTruther

Not capped: "I always dreamed of walking these halls, you know. My dreams never included a giant brain or smoldering ruins, but I'll take what I can get~" I <3 him what a goddamn dork.

Not capped: you know this is the part where I'd have to be like. Yeah you guys go ahead. Yeah I'm gonna sit this one out. Why? Well, do I look like I can climb the giant squishy completely vertical tube while it actively tries to fly? No no if someone can teleport me up I can fight but otherwise I may have to sit this one out.

For the first time... quiet at last.

Oh this shit hurts ;_;

He chose against apotheosis this time <3 I can only surmise that what happened in Tae's run was that saying, no, fuck Mystra, you don't owe her anything, made him decide to act against her? This is still... not necessarily a great ending for Gale, because it still requires capitulating to the desires of his abuser, even if it does mean being free of the Orb (and not becoming Cringegod(tm). It's the best possible ending for him, yes, but I wish there was an option for him to acknowledge that what Mystra did to him was awful and he didn't deserve to be treated like that, and be able to reject the Crown.

Not capped: still! goddamn! hate! how Astarion running from the sun is almost played for laughs! I got Gale's line in this one and hearing how dismissive and flippant it is compared to what'll be the new line, where he sounds genuinely horrified and worried and openly states they'll need to be a good friend to him and offer him comfort, is... god. Dramatic difference. "Welp, that's the last we'll see of him!" that original line is so wrong ;_;

Glad she was able to make the decision herself. Forcing her just feels wrong.

I like this <3 Halsin still carries out his dream, but the relationship doesn't end, it's just. Long-distance, haha.

It's interesting how this plays out if you do Halsin poly, because it has the scene of Halsin waking up next to the PC, they talk about where things go, they walk off hand in hand... then it has the scene of Astarion waking up next to the PC, they talk about... etc XD I'd love if they included a poly option with all three of them, so you can get just the Halsin one, or just the Astarion one, or one where you talk to both at the same time. IIRC the only relationships where you can do Halsin poly is with Astarion or Shadowheart, so that's only two extra scenes they'd have to work out! It just feels a bit awkward as it is, with both scenes playing one after the other?

Anyway. The Astarion scene <3 This is the bit where I got all misty-eyed because. The reflection of, "What do you want?" "You. I want... you", and the beautiful Durge-specific line of being able to choose family... ;_;

They absolutely get together while in Avernus <3

Final decisions: Orpheus requests a merciful death, which Tavias provides. Lae'zel chooses to go to war. Gale returns the crown to Mystra. Wyll offers to accompany Karlach to Avernus, and she chooses to accept. Halsin goes to start a new community for those in need, with his relationship with Tavias continuing. Tavias and Astarion stay together and look for a way for Astarion to walk in the sun again.

There will be a separate post just for the epilogue, once I sort the, uh, 723 screencaps I took for it!

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #ry plays bg3 #oc: tavias

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