#im drowning in transactions

[bullet-prooflove]

The Beauty of the End Part 5: History - Michael 'Riz' Ariza x Reader

Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life, @danzer8705 @mysoulisasunflower @vannabanana1995 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @sxmmarie @queeniesdiary @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @genius2050 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @oureternalbond @baybaybear1 @@thanossexual

Part One: Nashville - Riz makes a decision that affects your relationship in Nashville.

Part Two: Reckless - Taza and Neron realise that Riz is spiralling.

Part Three: Walk The Line - Taza calls you to get the truth about what happened between you and Riz.

Part 4: Bright - Vicki reminds Riz it's not all about him.

You don’t pick up the phone when he calls and Riz doesn’t blame you. When it goes straight to voicemail he doesn’t even bother to leave a message, he simply hangs up the phone and sighs. He tries to plan out his next steps in the shower but every avenue he looks down comes with a problem.

Access.

It’s not just as simple as picking up the phone anymore, if you block his calls, it’s not as if he can just turn up at your house. He’s lost track of your schedule over the past few months, he’s not even sure which city you’re in.

Those tickets at the box office, he would bet his life they aren’t even in his name anymore. Even then they only gave him access to the venue, with security the way it is, he wouldn’t be able to get anywhere hear you. He presses his palms to the cool tiles and hangs his head under the hot stream of water in an attempt to drown out the noise that resonates through his head.

He’s fucked up.

He’s ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to him because he can’t face the prospect of being rejected by someone that he loves.

He knows what this is about, but he hates the fact that it still fucking affects him even after all these years. The scars, they’re buried deep underneath the ridges of his skin but that time he spent in the orphanage in Mexico still stings. He knows his mother did what she thought was best, twenty-two with three kids, no man in the picture, too many mouths to feed… It wasn’t abandonment not really.

He was fifteen when he was cut loose, a few bucks to his name and a backpack. He knew his mother had a sister in the US so he’d made the trip under the cover of darkness and ended up here in Santo Padre, Vicki had just started up the brothel at that point. A wayward nephew had never factored into her plans. She had had taken him in anyway, putting him to work doing anything that needed doing around the house. Turning rooms over between clients, helping with the bar, keeping the appointment books and balancing the accounts.

He’d been a dropout ever since kindergarten, at least in the brothel he was productive. He’d learned from the best how to please a woman, how to listen to the sounds of her body, the heady echo of her moans. For the briefest moment in those exchanges, he felt like somebody loved him, that somebody wanted him. He forgot that love in his world was transactional. It took him a long time to accept that Vicki kept him around because she cares about him and not out of obligation.

“You’re surprisingly well adjusted.” You had told him as the two of you sat in the yard, sharing a spliff as the sun went down. Your feet were resting in his lap, his thumb caressing the hollow of your ankle before he leant over and handed you the joint.

“The MC helped balance me out.” He told you when he settled back into his seat. “It gave me the thing that I was missing, showed me that love and loyalty doesn’t have to come with stings. I think I have Taza to thank for that. He sponsored me, took me under his wing, he was the first person who really saw me for who I was and gave me that encouragement to grow as person and explore who I am.”

“He’s your MC dad.” You told him as you took a drag and he had laughed because he’s never thought about it like that. Taza’s the guy that calls him on his shit, sits with him when he’s low, he’s the one that taught him how to play guitar, that shared his love of music.

Taza always been there when Riz has needed it, despite the fact that Riz has done everything he can to fight it recently.

“Fuck.” He mutters, throwing his head back and using his palm to wipe the water from his face. Even when he’s an asshole, Taza’s still there, trying to help him put the pieces back together.

He’s barely set foot out of the shower when he hears the knock on his door. He almost ignores it. He doesn’t want to see anyone else tonight, he wants to get into his bed and scroll through pictures of the two of you on his phone the same way he has every other night since he ended things. He’s still clutching the towel to his waist when he answers the door and sees you standing there.

You still look as beautiful as the first day he saw you, that black silk dress hugging your form. Brown boots and a matching leather jacket thrown over your shoulders. Your suitcase is propped up next to you. In the background he sees Taza and Creeper idling in the van, Taza gives him a nod before he turns his head to Creeper and the two of them pull away from the curb.

He’s thought about what he wants to say so much over the past couple of hours, however now that you’re here the words just won’t come out. As your gaze shifts to the towel slung low around his hips, he realises this he’s still standing there at the front door, dripping wet and wearing next to nothing. It’s you that breaks the silence.

“Can I come in?”

Love Riz? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[1800-page-not-found]

“Love” - Diluc x Fem Reader Angst

Sorry for not posting for a while, life’s just been a bit hard these days. I suppose I’m putting my feelings into this oneshot as I’m writing. Hope you enjoy.

TW:emotional abuse, toxic relationship, suicide (hanging, drowning)

summary: did you really think a man like diluc would truly love you? You were a fool to think so.

When his father died, you were on his side. Making sure he always had a shoulder to cry on. You tried to mend the two brothers together. But i suppose this is all an arranged marriage can do. It was a foolish decision to ask if you could marry the heir of the Ragnvindr clan because you loved him. You were so…blinded by love. A one sided love story.

Here you were, crying. Alone in your bedroom, which you shared with Diluc. Yet he was nowhere to be found. Why? You were always there for him in is dark times. You did everything for your husband. So why couldn’t he do the same? You thought the two of you were on at least good terms…why?

Ah…perhaps you were now useless to him. You did after all get in a fight with your parents. All those years of pent up emotions…they all flowed out. Last night was so vivid.

-your pov-last night

“I DID EVERYTHING YOU ASKED ME TO DO. I MARRIED A GOOD MAN FOR YOU. I ACED ALL MY EXAMS. EVERYTHING. WHAT DID YOU GIVE ME?” I yelled at my father.

“ME? I GAVE YOU ALL THESE OPPORTUNITIES. YOU SHOULD BE THANKFUL YOU UNGRATEFUL BRAT.” Why?..I never asked for this. I just-I just wanted to make you happy…

“THATS RIGHT. YOU HAVE NOTHING TO SAY BACK BECAUSE IM RIGHT. I KNOW WHATS BEST FOR YOU [NAME].” My mother walks in. “Dear, let me talk to our daughter alright?” She said it in such a soft tone. Ah. But then father left the room. Mother glared at me.

“Archons, you cant ever do anything fucking right for once! Where did I go wrong huh? Is it my fault that you became like this? What did this mother do to have a failure as a daughter?” I remained silent. How could you? “You know what-I don’t care anymore! You are just like your father. I can’t deal with your shit anymore. I don’t care! I’ll disown you if I have to.” Ah. I see. You must hate me lots, right mother? Alright then. I’m tired. I’m tired of everything. You win.

-3rd pov-present time

you looked at the noose that laid in your room. Peace is so close…you walked slowly to your death. A step on the stool. You slowly rested your face onto it. It feels like…home.

the bedroom fire slammed open. “I’m home.” Diluc sighed, taking off his coat. He still didn’t notice what you were doing. And so you continued. Then you kicked the stool, letting it tighten around your neck like a scarf. “What the-“ diluc turned his head to the noise. His eyes widened as you were slowly dying. Why did you look so happy? He rushed to cut the noose. “WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING? HOW COULD YOU DO THAT? DO YOU KNOW HOW SELFISH THAT IS?”

…selfish? Right. That’s what you were. So fucking selfish. You looked at diluc, lifelessly. A red mark appeared onto your neck. Diluc sighed. He had no time for such nonsense. Ever since his father died, it was no longer the same. He became unable to love. You were merely a business transaction to gain power. “I do not have time for this [name]. If you’re going to act dramatic, do it in a different way. Just don’t taint the Ragnvindr name.” Right. It was always about the outside. But you were at your final straw.

“I’m tired diluc.”

“So? I’m also tired. Do you see me acting dramatically like you? What do you even commit to in this household? Stop acting like a child.”

“I don’t care anymore. I hate tou. I hate everyone and everything. I was a fool to love tou. You are unloveable diluc. No one will love you like I used to.”

he sighed. What kind of fucking nonsense were you spewing? “Whatever. Just do your part. Contribute to the family.”

right. Diluc Ragnvindr has no empathy for anyone. You walked past diluc, out to the door. “What the fuck are you doing?” He grabbed your hair and pulled back. You looked at him with tired eyes. “I don’t know. Alright? I’m nothing without you. Are you happy now? No-you know what? I want a divorce.” You walked away.

it wasn’t very far, but the pond (or river?) was so clear… you took a step in. The water was cold. But it felt soothing. Relaxed. Soon, the water was up to your shoulders, drowning your nightgown. Then you submerged your head.

deep and deeper you go. Down to the bottom of the pond. Death feels…nice.

-one week later-

[name’s] body was found dead, floating in the pond near the Dawn Winery. Diluc was…distraught. They only ever care when you’re gone. He could no longer focus on his work anymore. Your family…they didn’t care. You just became a liability. You no longer were an asset.

the traveler was traumatized. After all, they were the one to find your dead body. Hey! That’s alright! The traveler can do anything!

well, that’s what the people of mondstadt but look how you turned out. Aether was also loosing his “will”

-finished-

this was boring, the writing sucks too. My eyes are going to be puffy when I wake up…I hate crying.

[nel-world]

hi

forgetting lines

phone

DRAMATURG PAT i read the new pages you sent me. I see more of an authentic character here. He has flaws but he's… aware of them. STUDENT Yes. So, it's good? DRAMATURG PAT We're on the right path. STUDENT What else do I need? DRAMATURG PAT What is he going to do with that? Is he planning to change his flaws into something better? STUDENT Well… he's…to make it a compelling arc. Then, i know the context, as an actor, it becomes easier to perform.

/// STUDENT: (Looking down at his phone, visibly nervous as he waits for a reply. Still no answer, he shifts uncomfortably.)

TEACHER: (Interrupting the scene, raising a hand to halt the action.) Stop, stop, stop.

The scene freezes. The Teacher turns to face the Student.

TEACHER: Are you busy?

STUDENT: (Startled, looks up.) Me?

TEACHER: Yeah, I'm talking to you.

STUDENT: No. I was just…

TEACHER: Is it more important than what we're doing here?

STUDENT: (Quickly shakes his head.) No, it's not that important.

TEACHER: Then let's get back to the scene.

///

how much money ?? this is not credit card transaction

this is art

///

Teacher: When my father was canceled, everyone told me, "Don't make a film with him. Whatever he touches doesn't release." I was so angry, hard, and bitter. If I have a problem with someone's work, I talk to them directly.

Student: Yeah, it’s so easy for people to label someone, but they never try to understand their journey. One mistake, and suddenly that’s all you are to them.

Teacher: Exactly. They don’t see the sleepless nights, the passion, the dedication that goes into creating something. Whether I like a film or not, it involves as much hard work and passion as something universally praised.

Student: I get that . It’s frustrating to be reduced to one project’s failure.

Teacher: That’s the harsh reality . People love to put others on a pedestal and tear them down just as quickly. But real resilience comes from standing back up, despite the criticism.

Student: I’ve learned that the hard way. It took a lot of introspection to move past the bitterness. I had to remind myself why I started making films in the first place.

Teacher: And that’s what’s important. Remembering your passion and not letting the noise drown it out.

Student: It’s still tough, though. Every time I start a new project, there's this lingering doubt. What if no one shows up..

Teacher: But you have to keep going. Trust in your vision and the process.

Student: Thanks, that means a lot. I’m trying to focus on the work and not the noise.

Teacher: That’s the spirit. Keep pushing forward, no matter what they say.

////

Student: I want to do newer stuff and push my own boundaries, knowing I face the consequences if I fail. (Glances out the window at the setting sun.) )im worried if people will show up or not, it's like a damn rat race.

Teacher: (Nods, the light casting a warm glow in the room.) Absolutely, everything has become like a credit card transaction. It can stifle creativity eople always put everyone in a box. It’s not just me.

Teacher: (Sighs, running a finger over a well-worn script.) Right, and it’s so limiting. amd people get shafted 'cause they don't fit society's neat little labels.

Teacher: (Leaning in, with a hint of nostalgia.) That’s the right mindset. Authenticity in your work is far more valuable than conforming to commercial expectations. Keep focusing on what you believe in, and the rest will follow.

Student: (Feeling a sense of validation.) Thanks, that means a lot. It’s reassuring to know that staying true to my vision is the right path, even if it’s not always the easiest one.

Teacher: (Patting the student’s shoulder, a glint of pride in his eyes.) It definitely is. Remember, some of the best artwork were initially misunderstood or not commercially successful. What matters is creating something meaningful and true to yourself.

[spiralemoji]

im so tired of being treated this way

i can't escape

i don't know why i see it this way

i know it's only an illusion, created by the trauma

i'm drowning in its colors, and voices, it casts all over everything

like grey ash from a fire that burnt a long time ago

and i still choke on the dust,

it's not fair, i'm so tired,

people think because... i have privelages, that this shouldn't destroy me from this inside.

as if i'm nothing but a hollow shell, and high frequency of transactions makes me well

it doesn't matter what i do, or what my bank account looks like, or who i surround myself with

i'm trying to make my mind a better place to be, but it's almost like fighing an uphill battle.

1 step forward 2 steps back.

so downward i go, further and further, no matter how hard i try.

i'm caught in a trap, i can't get out of.

i don't know what the truth is anymore, i don't know who i can trust,

i don't know who i can come to, if i have no one.

it hurts more than you can imagine.

i had a window open, and i nearly climbed out of it.

and then you shut it tight and told me, not to fall from such a great height, you wouldn't catch me if i jumped.

i was scared to fall so i stayed inside

a burning house.

[blackvail22]

wow!! nothing went right today!

got yelled at as soon as i woke up, was late to work because of my parents, work went terrible...

to the customer that was hostile towards me, wow!! you are SUCH an interesting person, honestly... our interaction is one i'll never forget..

you walking into the store and darting to behind the registers where me and my coworker were... me telling you i could help you at my register and asking you not to go behind the counter. you getting upset at me, saying, "i was just going to stop here" (8 steps behind where you were).

me allowing you to get the items you were going to exchange before the transaction while keeping your return at the front.

you two steps before walking out of the store. me, reminding you that i could do your exchange at my register, in case there was a misunderstanding.

you yelling at me... telling me you weren't walking out of the store, saying, "you have my receipt... you really just need to fuck off and die, honestly."

me talking to a customer who called the store, and you yelling at me again, barking, "honey, if you cant trust people, you really cant have a job in retail"

and then you, talking shit about me to my coworker.

i really want you to know, ma'am, you were my breaking point today. congratulations! you now hold that title. i now want to do things that i shouldnt.

are you proud of yourself? did you gain anything from that? tell me, honestly.

i wish i had the guts to stand up to you, but what i would've said would make me unemployed.

maybe its my fault i let you get to me. maybe i need to get "thicker skin," as my grandma has always told me.

do i need to get thicker skin, or do people just need to be kinder? how do people, like you, have the audacity to say that to a worker, to ANYONE, for that matter.

"the holidays are difficult for a lot of people, so if a customer is rude to you, be patient"

why does this apply to them but not me?

i know im not suited for retail, ma'am, but its not because im distrustful; its because people like you make me want to find a white, padded room to drown in for the next 4 months.

so... thanks, ma'am...

youre making it all the more tempting.

[getting-messi]

😞.

[soonhoonsol]

so my brother went out with his friends without permission so my mum came home wondering why the house was empty and for some reason instead of being angry at my brother, she decided to go through my bank account and interrogate me for every transaction I've made over the past month

[madfantasy]

I haven't seen you post in a while, I hope you've been doing okay? How is everything? Hope it's been a good year so far for you 💕💕

You're too kind, u & everyone who made inquiries, bless ur hearts.. im sorry for disappearing, but yeah, I don't have net— using my phone credit and hope this posts..

I tried to record my voice answering this, like I sometimes did on tik, suddenly ended up trying to muffle the floods of my burning tears, so now I have an awkward vid of me talking then weeping out of nowhere, which a good reason for me to keep up the no cry habit, heh.. but seriously, I suppose I'm fine till I be conscious of it.. its much easier for not to talk .. even tho I'm aching to be back in thy company, lonely in my foresight to catch on to the present that joins us, hand held out to reach like minded souls but shying from the fear of forgetfulness occurring..

I'm fine tho, did few new stuff, merely drowning in too muchness and nothingness as usual, this month I guess you could say I took an act of mad fury in search of any happy source because the echoing silence and the swarm of sadness nipping on my brain cells thickened, and the reasoning merged with the obscene. So instead of giving my guardians the usual of 3/4 of my earnings last month for net and groceries, I spent it all. Ya know, as it was told to me it mine to do as I please? As being prevented any chance of work if it was possible, 't was supposed to be spent on art supplies & measly delights craved for years ?

Before hand, I've been begging them to take me for months to get any clothing or whatever, be it the first time I ever see a shop, then just to drive around, then just me peaking to the outside when the front door is open, merely seeking change I suppose. They kept vaguely promising me until they refused point blank— getting tired of my nagging, then their car just stopped working till this day. Its in the workshop rn..

Anyway, befouled by despair, needing the mere basics of life and not granted, I was delighted when i found a site to buy from cheap & pretty, I pressed buy without any further considerations, or taking their permission and thrilled to be able get gifts for my siblings too. I say gifts but really they are deprived necessities too and not even much just one each cuz well, they are 5 of my babies and to start with the top of priorities; we all draw

I could already see it, they can't help themselves; heck seeped through the clenched gates of their mouths, trying desperately to poison me with undirect attempts this time, cuz I bought for my sibs they're out of the option of calling me selfish. I was upping the same trance like state of vague existence dealing with them, absorbing their insults and degrading just to make sure my shi arrives safe.

Unfortunate for me, the site chose the worst carrier in this country

I did everything in my power to make it into their convenience, by embarrassingly messaging the carrier daily, they took a week of promising to deliver and flanking so my guardians reached a heated level of threatening, waving their hands nd almost tossing shi at mE saying that they don't care if they came and if i dared to order something again they'll do this and that. Not allowing me to open the door for the delivery guy when he comes, blaming me for missing vaccination dates (they kept missing them even before)& missing going to important places(again, they just didn't go to for ages), made them loose sleep, etc etc— in turn, I seen red and regretfully blew up.

I screamed at them its literally the only time I ever did this, it BECAUSE it easier on them & I'll do what I want whatever anyway, & to stop interrupting me while I try to explain things , then they suddnly back done and be like I'm not mad at u I'm mad at the delivery ppl, that they are proud of me for being able to do all this, and such sort. I left them to cool in my room, Idk how I did it but must have slam-gripped something so hard it chipped most of my short nails & cracked one, was glad I didn't hurt my drawing hand but yeah, goofy mani

They robbed me of the joy of anticipation & the dissipation of apathy, I started to lose sleep again and my liberating dreams left me and I don't think I remember leaving bed.

But still, If not force myself to do things.. there'll be nothing for me if I don't.. at least I know im able of that

I got my guardians happy tho after another tiresome refusal, by trying out one of those Uber-eat like local apps here, since they have no car and being disabled & ill, I ordered McDonald's for the first time. Slythry behind their backs per habit, told them someone coming and they had that look again, but thankfully the guy came through and didn't steal my money, heh. For a big 1800 calories meal I suppose it was passable, the happy fam faces I got was the real treat..

Oh with that thing with the credit card stating I owe them money, waited weeks & nobody got back to us? They started taking from my guardian's account directly to pay it, saying oh we did send you warnings--- TO THE SHADOWY LINES OF THEIR POSTERIOR A.K.A NOWHERE. Thankfully the account is mostly empty nd just for random transactions, i alerted my guardians not to use it. And again, my god, another round of endless calls and promises started, and we wait again so they just don't act as if we owe them a frking 17k dollars that we don't have.. was panicking cuz I have nothing and but my guardians were weirdly comforting about it and told me not to worry

One thing good bout no net is it made me stop thinking about life in general, and stop the tiny unnoticeable prick of misery when I have no input to share, trying not to helplessly compare people just living, in inflated style or not, in media, to my isolated-most-of-my-life style and missing much of that organic "life experiences and chances", heh. At least, my situation would be favorable to me if it was ever possible for it to let me have peace, or have the simple knowledge I'm not virtually imprisoned and have never familiarised with nothing of this world but the surrounding walls.. its nice to have more time to be consumed by muse and day dreaming that flutters life through my dull being and sing chorus of inspiring means for art to flow and finds its way delicately onto my realised canvas.. but no, I continued drawing whilst sight blurred with salty droplets contradicting that happy tintin dance on tiktok I worked so long on just cuz I couldn't stop, not the tears or the mad scribbles of determined intention to visualise the mourned excitement I need, hating everything I make

Somehow the lilac dream still intrudes, visualising me friends, living, in a quaint home, maybe we roommate, arm in arm we go to make every fracture of fate's encounters a disgusting adventurous thrill, like building a maze of cardboard or chasing each other in the dark.. maybe getting that half bleached head and endless ear pericings ... then it dies and I totally forget it..

But what those awesome headphones helped me do, literally blocks all their voices listening to Sev losing it and I can Waltz around not feeling gutted to go and interfere or play the referee each time. But I can't wear them forever, gives me a bad headache, and honestly; I can't be too neglectful.. my sibs hates me for it already hehe

At least these clothing came true to their measurements, felt the new sensations on how everything I wore hugs me & learnt the baffling ways on how "gender" and region plays different tunes on the same measurements. Getting fitting things felt like suddenly there's hope to be, for myself to be me, and ease this severe disassociation between who I am, and what my body is .. from how little I see myself nd consider it worthy of anything because of how long it been living like a phantom among people.. to numb this dysphoria until it be gone one day

Saddened that the only site I can't order from again if they keep using that awful carrier

...

I missed our country's 91 national day, too. They made sales everything 91 riyal so.. but knowing the sellers here, I don't think most of em went true with their offers.. Horrible news tho on the celebrations, sigh

I turned this into a dear diary, guess bothered you enough today, sorry

So thankful to yous, Idk if I can be back, but I'll remain creating, and will keep the thought alive of being tickled when sharing my creations with your viewing pleasure somehow

'till then my precious dears, take care 💛🙏

26.9.2021, 8 pm, sleeping

[prodicalmenace]

Okay but like you’re in a coma and life and death are fighting for you where ironically Dazai is life and Chuuya is death—

i still dont have a real writeable idea for this so lets just talk it out...

dazai as life and chuuya as death has the same energy as canon where they keep trying to push dazai as inherent good and chuuya as inherent evil. its so funny. im laughing, like right now and all the time, because a.) theyre meant to embody “the grey area” as much as the entirety of the story does all the time and b.) this fandom doesnt seem to understand that an allegiance does not equal a stop on the pendulum of morality so stop acting like everything has to be one or the other and actually READ instead of drooling over pictures

but this scenario of a coma almost fits so right. you, i dunno, get hit by a car or have a bad bungie jumping incident, idk, whatever it is the world views it as a freak accident and here you lay in a hospital bed for months like bad spinach. except its not a freak accident, because there exists this higher power or whatever that has dictated your time. as you lay unconscious the lose ends around you are closing up, the life that goes on improves as you truly leave your mark on the world as a literal casualty of life.

but life gets greedy. 

dazai sees your unconscious body every day and knows it was his job, his rightful honor or whatever, to complete your life cycle and give you up to deaths doorman, chuuya. it was arranged before you were born, and he does it all the time, but how fucking dare your partner develop romantic feelings for your sibling while you sit there lying in your own filth. how dare the world turn on without you, how dare it improve, when your life made it bearable enough for him.

it’s very adjustment bureau, a transaction that was never supposed to be torn between the one who is selfish and the one who knows his place, because chuuya knows this is for the best, that this will be your release and you will finally know the peace you literally kill yourself trying to experience. he better than anyone knows life after death, and he knows that you deserve it, so just let go and he can give that to you.

but you remain too attached to life, to dazai’s pull on your fingertips that suddenly remind you that you’re cold. and for those brief moments you exist, but it stings when he asks you to lightly move your muscles and breathing in burns with the plastic shoved in every end of your body. it shouldn’t hurt so much to live but boy did you already know that, because life just takes and takes and takes and when it claims to give a damn it sure flips the switch on you, huh? what will dazai do anyway, other than thrive a bit in the chaos your life creates before moving on to better things. what part of his selfishness is so attractive to you when it hurts just to be on the same plane as him, and the same plane will never be the same wavelength.

so often people backtrack the shit of life with benevolence and opportunity but we are all well aware its garbage, and i think that fits dazais character so much. life is supposed to be beautiful, simple, dressed in a trench coat and ready for rain but he jumps into the fucking river and doesn’t bother holding his breath. it’s unreliable, it’s real, it feels like a nightmare only you’re aware for it.

meanwhile, as kimmy schmidt puts best, death is the eternal sleep and mama needs a nap. it’s often regarded as the true benevolence and the existence of freedom. there stands chuuya, beautiful sideways mullet chuuya who understands (even if in little practice) empathy and its value in life as much death. chuuya who puts your mind at ease when the world is sheit and threatens to drown you without your own comprehension. chuuya who allows you to let go, to grow, to digress, to do as you need because now you can. i have less descriptions here but basically, chuuya is so good, yah?

this also rings to chuuyas loyalties--where chuuya fights its for order, for structure, for safety of those he loves. his value of people makes being death a perfect role because life is so hell bent on torturing people that don’t deserve it, meanwhile he’s fulfilling a duty that has meaning and is working for a larger purpose than his own satisfaction. likely this means that you actually mean just as little to him as you do dazai, but only one of the two is concerned with your actual wellbeing rather than an emotional outburst. comedy, i know, but deaths misplaced anger comes from lifes inability to follow through. 

also this post is not about dying being good plz dont bull a booth on me i cant take the heat

[battylite]

dying 2 know ... what’re your thoughts on diane and bojack ...

DYING… ok so this is probably a lot more than you wanted but i broke my collarbone yesterday and need to think about something else, so... also this has mad spoilers.

1. the bojack writers do such a good job of making sure its obvious that Diane and bojack aren’t star-crossed lovers. Their friendship is unlikely, they have a tendency to reflect each other’s flaws, and its not a case of “they would be so good for each other if they could just get their shit together!!” I think people’s tendency to see them together speaks a lot to how so much media portrays off and on again romantic relationships that end in this huge cathartic get together. Bojack and Diane’s final moments together are cathartic but in the way that the trope of women screaming in horror movies is cathartic.

Outside out his relationship with Todd, his occasional interest in fatherhood, and his unprofessional “friendship” with Princess Carolyn, Bojack is somewhat incapable of being selfless.  Other than struggling with generosity, he is literally selfless ie he lacks an identity that isn’t based on his relationship with an other: an audience, a romantic partner, a professional, etc. His relationship with Diane begins as a transaction and though it grows into a personal relationship, friends isn’t really an appropriate term.  She uses him to get ahead in her career and her single-minded personality makes her think that nothing is ever really her fault. A big part of Diane’s character arc is that she learns that selflessness is rarely as self-affirming as she hopes and none of her big public acts of sacrifice are actually sacrifices— they usually have somewhat selfish motives.

Diane has no healthy romantic relationships with men until her bf in the last season. Whether she and Mr PB actually have feelings for each other is kind of ambiguous (personally I don’t think so, their marriage was a failure from day 1). She believes herself to be Bojack’s friend but ends up fostering some kind of savior complex over him. She never takes the chances she gets to push Bojack in the right direction (except for suggesting rehab in The View from Halfway Down), and instead resorts to mild empathy and being a listening ear, which she later regrets. Diane genuinely believes that Bojack is a bad person and thinks better of herself for being friends with him.

Neither of them can separate their personal relationships from their career. We see bojack attempt when he tries to reunite with Charlotte, and arguably Diane succeeds when she leaves LA with Guy, but for the majority of the show, their personal lives are indistinguishable from the industry. Distancing herself from Bojack was definitely the right move and showed her that Bojacks self destructing tendencies and selfishness are his personal choices, not something she can fix.

Im undecided about whether their phone call in the end is supposed to be them saying they’ll always be there for each other or that they can’t separate themselves from each other even when they should. I think it’s a bit of both and the important part is that Bojack initially reached out to her. It was fair for her to say that she felt she was being blamed for Bojack’s near drowning, and her decision to break them off after the finale was for the best. I’m really really pleased that the writers never had them get together and made it clear through the series that it wasn’t a realistic choice. Anyways this is too much but im always down to talk about bojack bc this show is truly incredible

[normal-thoughts-official]

Agh I read your recent post and realized: the entire Polycule absolutely commissions Magnus for gifts for birthdays/anniversaries/holidays. And he always insists they don’t pay bc it’s who he is but they all make it their personal

Lmao last ask sent too early. But the Polycule absolutely makes it their mission to pay Magnus by force if necessary. Simon literally hides money in the loft. Maia pays him back in free meals at Taki. Mel brings him Seelie weapons/charms/etc. Clary brings paintings as gifts, and maybe she ends up investing in a gallery and gifts a portion of the profits to Magnus. Izzy always pays for things on their shopping trips.

god yes hello how does it feel to be a genius? i absolutely adore this

truly tho this is so great. i particularly love the mental image of maia’s birthday since she’s dating everyone in the Polycule (love how we capitalize it that’s so hot girl summer of us) plus there’s also her pack and just generally she has a lot of friends and everyone loves her, as she deserves. so like 4 months before maia’s birthday magnus just starts sending ppl shit like “if you wish to commission a gift to maia roberts please come forward now so i have the time to properly work on all the requests. requests are open for the following month starting this date, and no later” because MAN the workload. one would think he’s the only warlock in this stupid town or something. seriously

but anyway they all want to get maia a little magical something to make it special, so he has to actually like, figure out a lot of spells. raphael’s first request of a gift to her is to make something that tastes exactly like chocolate, but isn’t, since she can’t eat it anymore after the lycantrophy and raphael is a softie who wants her to have all the food and sweets she wants. and raphael is obviously like “i know i’m asking a lot, which is why i came to you, because if anyone can pull it off, it’s you, but you can say no if you’re too busy-” and magnus is like “hush, my boy, you know i’d never say no to you. besides, i’d be happy to give maia this” so there magnus is, studying the chemical composition of chocolate and the werewolf digestive system like crazy. in the end he lowkey cheats - he creates these magical tablets that are actually tasteless, but look and have the texture of chocolate, and when eaten have an enchantment that activates all the same parts of the brain that chocolate does, so it “tricks” maia into tasting chocolate. but hey, it works, so, that’s a win! maia is so happy she just jumps in raphael’s arms and almost topples them over but raphael has the biggest smile on his face and kind of spuns her around a bit. she also gives magnus a kiss on the cheek, and it’s the sweetest thing aaa im so soft

then of course magnus refuses to take any payment because he’s not going to charge his son for a gift even if it was a real fucking bunch of work. so basically raphael comes to him on clan business and he’s like “you have to charge me because if you don’t charge the clan on official business this can create a diplomatic problem and all the other clans are going to come for you or us” and magnus is like “okay that’s fair what do you want” and raphael asks him for like one (1) bag of blood and pays him A Thousand Dollars (it’s his own money, not the clan’s, but like, it’s officially a clan transaction). i’m exaggerating but you get the spirit. and magnus is just like “that is not the price-” but raphael bolts

and just other little things. meliorn is a practical nonbinary entity so they get her a little necklace that basically protects her clothes when she transforms, then magics them back on her body once she goes back to human form (i know that meliorn has seelie magic but it doesn’t work the same way as warlock magic so maybe they can’t do that themself for some reason idk. like their magic seems to be more a “playing with nature” stuff). easier than having a bunch of clothes hideouts. simon gets her a kind of mirror that play whatever memory she’s thinking about when she touches it, so she can watch it like a video u kno. izzy gets her, like, A Real Lightsaber. clary draws a little comic book enchanted so the figurines actually move. etc. every year they get sweeter and more convoluted and obviously they don’t all always come to magnus (simon for example makes her a bunch of songs, izzy is lowkey an engineer so she can make her a bunch of stuff herself, rapha also takes pleasure in the mundane things and knows that maia feels the same way so he likes to get her special, mundane gifts sometimes, meliorn obviously has their own magic, etc), but it’s always something special when they do

and then there’s always the fun little cat and mouse game of Forcing Magnus To Take Payment. they aren’t afraid to play dirty. izzy gives the money to alec under strict instructions to only spend it on magnus, but magnus can’t pay it back because it’s technically alec’s money. meliorn gets magnus some seelie magic gifts so precious and rare it would be essentially disrespectful to give them back (both in the form of like, powerful charms and trinkets, and also like, priceless spellbooks that very few have access to, etc). maia tells him that if he doesn’t take her payment, she won’t take his tips, which leads to a battle of him tipping her exactly the amount of money she’s paid and maia finding new, stupid stuff to “pay” him for (sidenote: my dad and one of his friends do essentially this every time they go out, as does most of my mom’s family. his friend once literally stole my dad’s wallet when he wasn’t looking so he couldn’t pay for their meal and the friend could treat him. no joke). simon and raphael hide money in the loft and when magnus goes to them they’re like “what? no, this isn’t mine. i agreed to take it for free as a gift from you” with the absolute most innocent face you’ve ever seen in your life. and so on

raphael’s birthday is also convoluted because like, 4 partners, a clan, a thousand people he helps with taki’s and the soup kitchen, and he’s magnus’ son, so of course everyone goes to him for help. simon has a major freakout every year because he doesn’t know what to get him (look. raphael is very refined and simon. is not. plus he’s been known to fuck up with raphael so he’s always Nervous even if all the clary bullshit was decades ago), so he comes to magnus, like, begging for help so he can figure it out. which is just straight up stupid because he usually actually has extremely sweet, beautiful ideas (like the time he recorded rapha a CD with a bunch of songs he made for him in spanish and raphael teared up so hard) but he gets insecure and agitated so magnus’ job there is mainly getting him to chill. then it works out. he ends up not even needing magnus to do anything because again, raphael enjoys the simple things and everyday gestures and just... regular, mundane stuff. he misses it. you know?

but that’s not stopping simon from paying for the counseling because he’s sweet like that, and magnus deserves it

and then of course there’s magnus’ birthday which always comes with a bang and he has so many gifts he’s basically drowning, what with all his friends and kids and warlocks and just. people who love him. he’s a bit surprised every time, which makes everyone exasperated because he’s such an important member of their community, like wtf. but it’s always sweet when his birthday arrives and there’s a fuckton of magical gifts manifesting at his doorstep until he’s almost drowning in them lmao. i just aaa i love this they’re all SOFT

[immortalpain]

SOPHIE NORCOTT

aka: zsofia novikoff/petrova

age: 726 (appears 29)

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: bisexual

occupation: tbd

species: siren

faceclaim: poppy drayton

i made a mistake using that gif im too gay too function (tw; death, murder)

originally born zsofia petrova, she was an only child to a fairly wealthy family. they had struggled to conceive, and so zsofia had been a blessing, for they had wanted a daughter. 

not that they wanted a child for the sake of having a child, to them, she was a business transaction waiting to happen. a young girl they tried to mould into the perfect wife. 

she grew up alongside igor, her family figuring if she knew him from an early age, she’d be more likely to be happy with the future they had planned for her. however, igor was cruel, and big headed, and zsofia loathed the man. if he wanted something, he’d stop at nothing to get it.

still, she had her childhood friend, khryson. someone she adored. the older they grew, zsofia realised her feelings for her friend were more than just platonic, but she was promised to igor, and he married someone else.

zsofia had managed to put off her marriage to igor long enough, but before she could marry him, khryson’s first wife died. not wanting to have any regrets, she told igor she refused to marry him.

igor was angry, his family even more so, and zsofia’s own family cut ties with her. luckily, igor left, to this day zsofia still isn’t sure why, but she was relieved. 

zsofia ended up marrying khryson, becoming zsofia novikoff. she adored her husband more than anything, and ended up having several children with him. she loved each and every one of her children. 

zsofia was happy. even though the years had some heartbreak, with natalia (khryson’s sister) dying, she supported her husband, always being there for him. 

however, at the age of 29, igor came back. drunkenly, he told her she’d made a fool of him, and that she had always been his and she should leave her husband. 

she told him no, and he was furious, and so, deciding if he couldn’t have her, no one could - he drowned her. 

a siren saved her that day, as she woke up on the shore, gasping for air with a strange woman hovering above her. she told the woman she needed to return home to her family, but she said she couldn’t. she explained that she was a siren now, and she wouldn’t age -- and so her family would not take well to that, and neither would their village.

so, fearing their safety, zsofia broke her own heart by leaving, allowing them to believe she had died.

she changed her names several times, roaming alongside the other siren. the woman teaching her the ways of what it meant to be one of them.

several years later, she snuck back to her hometown, desperate to see her husband again, despite the other’s warning. all she found was a grave belonging to him. calista and ekaterina’s beside them, all three of them having died in the same year. zsofia was devestated.

the two of them would find both men and women that would pray on the weak and innocent, and kill them. 

however one time, they bit off more than they could chew, and a hunter tracked them down and killed her friend, zsofia barely getting away.

she had several flings and relationships over the years, but never remarried - nothing ever came close to what she had with khryson.

sometimes, she’d see him. a figment of her imagination, she assumed - the guilt of leaving all those years ago manifesting into visions of him. she never once thought he could possibly be alive.

she made a few friends over the years, mainly sticking to those she knew were immortal - not wanting to deal with loosing more people she cared about. 

she grew colder as the decades went by, the warm hearted, soft woman she used to be, a distant memory.

she’s run into trouble during the years, but always managed to escape. 

her work (whatever that may be) is what brought her to bellport, the woman having no idea that her former husband and children are here. she now goes by sophie norcott.

[rdwyns]

          hey y’all, it’s kit again ! swapping jeyne out for anya, my muse from the last iteration of warofcrowns but with some obvious edits ! if you remember her from the old version, fair warning, she’s gotten significantly worse. her intro is still absurdly, ridiculously long, i am well aware and will not apologize. but if you do manage to read the whole thing you have my eternal gratitude & admiration ! i’d also really, really love plenty of plots and connections for her so if you want to plot, here’s how: like this post if you don’t mind me messaging you, or get a head start and shoot me a message either on IMs or on discord !

⤷ ( kit. cet. 22. she / her. violence against children. ) the courts offer bread and salt to anya caron née redwyne of house caron. many say the twenty-five year old ruling lady of nightsong is known to be poised and insightful, though ill tongues whisper that she is insecure and volatile. when her name is uttered, one is reminded of a faint light in a sea of fog, sweet fruit souring into wine, & a dark stain spreading over silk. may she be blessed and protected in this war of crowns.

        tw - discussions or mentions of alcoholism, childbirth & pregnancy, domestic abuse & neglect, suicide by drowning, food & disordered eating, forced marriage, mental & physical illness, misogyny. ( yeah it’s a lot, don’t mind me. )

basics.

name. anya caron née redwyne. nicknames. age. twenty-five. traits.      + educated, reverent, insightful, poised, curious, resourceful, sentimental.      - guarded, resentful, volatile, insecure, transgressive, dependent. titles. ruling lady of nightsong. loyalty. house targaryen.

family.

desmond redwyne, ruling lord of the arbor. ( father ) viola redwyne née ???, ruling lady of the arbor. ( mother , deceased ) ??? redwyne, heir to the arbor. ( half-brother ) ??? ??? née redwyne, lady of the arbor. ( half-sister )

??? caron, ruling lord of nightsong. ( husband ) amerei caron, lady of nightsong ( sister-in-law )

pre - history ; house & parents .

the redwynes were always military men. had to be, really, being island people, more isolated and often more endangered than their mainland counterparts. really, there was nothing quite so loved as war, except perhaps wine.

an old, proud house, the redwynes and their fleet have fought for targaryen kings for centuries — they stood by aegon in the dance of the dragons, stood by jon & daenerys against cersei lannister, and even stood by maegos against the dornish and northern rebellions.

lord desmond redwyne took his father’s seat in the reign of king aeron. in a prosperous and peaceful time, men drunk on dreams of a glorious war grow restless — so he hunted, and whored, and drank, and none of it so much as touched his reputation. no, lord redwyne was an honorable man, a true servant of the realm, an example to many.

lady viola redwyne might have said otherwise, had anyone asked her. prone to bouts of melancholy, often disagreeable, and with a reputation for refusing suitors, she might have even succeeded had she not been so beautiful. lord redwyne must have her, and her father could not refuse.

his second wife, fifteen years his junior, and unhappy with the match, she could not love him, nor his other children, nor the arbor. a lack of love in such close quarters sours into hate over time, like bad wine. one of her few reliefs was that he already had an heir and a spare. poor health and misery would not have made her a brood-mare of any longevity.

family history & early childhood . 

as it stood, anya was more an unexpected result than a desired outcome, and ultimately even a bone of contention. she bound her mother by love, to the arbor and the man that she hated.

they were left well enough alone, for a time, viola and her daughter, the septa, and the maidservants. even the wet nurse sent away. anya’s infancy brought a modicum of respite, but it would not last more than a handful of years.

by that time it aroused suspicion. lady redwyne would hardly leave her chambers, refuse to let the child out of her sight, would not see her husband and even refused food for periods at a time. it was unhealthy, unnatural, they soon started saying. in inns and winesinks at ryamsport men would murmur ‘poor lord redwyne, imagine a wife that beautiful going mad on you,’ into their cups, laughing at their great fortune to have avoided his.

and perhaps there was something real to it, perhaps there really was something unsettling about the arrangement. perhaps not. but in the end it was only the talk that mattered. once it reached lord redwyne’s ears, red with shame at being laughed at by traders and fishermen, he put his foot down. viola’s whims were not to be indulged or tolerated any longer, and besides, ‘the child’—by this he meant anya—‘must grow to be a fool or a half-wit if left in her care.’

and so anya was removed to the care of a cousin, mostly sheltered from her mother’s influence. there were fights about it for months. the withdrawn lady redwyne who would not speak but to her daughter and her maidservant and looked to the window whenever anyone looked at her had disappeared. she raged, schemed to steal her daughter away, wept, wandered the halls at night, and made trouble.

lord redwyne even tried being gentle, for a time, speaking in soft pleading words for her to be reasonable, but gentle or harsh it made no difference. if she saw anya twice, even three times a day, it was not enough — to her mind, he had stolen her daughter, stolen her life, stolen her freedom and anything else he might think of taking, and she wasn’t wrong. but when she threatened to throw herself from the eastern tower, she sealed her own fate.

on horseshoe rock, one of the smaller islands in the waters surrounding the arbor, a small stout keep was furnished and staffed, and lady redwyne was sent out of sight, out of mind, and certainly out of the way, where she couldn’t cause another such a stir — and most importantly, after a while, the talk died down.

personal history .

with all the difficulties tended to, and all the loose ends and loose canons carefully tied down, anya’s upbringing was left to a succession of septas, servants, and after a time, an aunt, newly widowed  and returned to the arbor.

out of her father’s favor for as long as she could remember, with a rocky relationship with her siblings ( i won’t go into detail in case my wc is picked up ! ), anya found little relief within the castle walls. she attended her lessons dutifully, could sew and sing and smile, recite the houses, their sigils and heroes, and it all meant little and less to her.

she wanted to set sail, she had always insisted — since before she knew what it really meant, just uttering phrases picked up along the way the way one does around seafarers — but desmond redwyne would not suffer any of his daughters to venture so far beyond his control. he knew better than to trust sailors, and certainly never trusted women.

so instead anya spent years at her window, watching sails shrink and disappear over the horizon ; by the sea, swimming in a cove under the watchful eye of the septa ; sneaking in the fields during harvest, stealing grapes ripe to bursting. searching desperately, maybe shiftlessly, for a little bit of sweetness. all the while she visited her mother only rarely, on namedays and holy days and days when, for whatever mysterious reason, her father’s pity won out over his good sense.

she studied too, though silently, mostly unnoticed. the kitchen girls, the household guard, the way people talked when they didn’t think anyone was paying attention. watched her father most of all, and had no illusions about him. even if she still aspired to please him, somehow, to gain his approval, she knew: he was a cruel man, harsh, childish, selfish, drunk on wine and himself, and yet still too clever to let all of that be his ruin.

her betrothal, like any lady’s, was inevitable — on the horizon of her future, marriage appeared to her like a fog, uncertain in all aspects but its impending approach. in the end it was a transaction, as these things almost always are. a dowry of ships, wine, and gold ( but really, mostly ships ) was enough to make anya a desirable bride despite the whispers of madness that clung to her mother, and she was promised to the heir of nightsong without even the illusion of being well-matched.

demure, docile, even shy, few suspected that, days before she was to leave for her wedding, anya would disappear in the night. would sneak from the castle in the dark, with a torch and one gold dragon, paid to the wife of a fisherman who, in her husband’s small boat, rowed anya to the shores of horseshoe rock to say goodbye to her mother one last time.

it was a mistake, but she couldn’t have known that. she came at night, the only time she could, but to viola, startled from her sleep, she was a ghost in the moonlight. after the truth came, ‘i’m leaving. father says i must,’ her mother, in tears, threw herself in front of the door, on the ground, wept in fits and refused to let her leave. it was the first and last time anya ever truly believed her mad. with promises that she would refuse her marriage and sail home as soon as she could, she left.

she was guilty, of course — so guilty it ate her up, and very nearly killed her, but not so guilty that she turned back. her mother could not bear for her to go, but anya felt she would die — truly die — if she were forced to stay.

the preparations were already well underway by the time word reached them from the arbor. lady redwyne had disappeared. alseep in bed at night, swore the servant, but gone in the morning. the island was searched for weeks, coasts scoured, sailors and captains interrogated, but to no avail. some say she escaped, others that she was kidnapped, and yet others know with conviction that she simply walked into the sea and drowned

though she wore the her house colors instead of black, anya was married in mourning. the wedding was a ridiculous affair, lavish and splendid and festive, and it only made her all the more self-conscious. she was polite, sweet, but in the momentary lull of conversation she looked lost. doe-eyed — not innocent, but wary, reproachful.

( note --- everything that follows may be changed at a later date if / when her husband is applied for ; i’m trying to keep it as vague as possible for that reason, sorry. )

it was a relief to be gone from the arbor, that she could not deny, but things at nightsong were not better. she was withdrawn, in mourning, clumsy in her attempts to draw affection from her husband and all the while mistrusting him ; even at the arbor she knew the household, was familiar with the scullery maids and the maester. here she was a stranger in her own home, and resentment blossomed as easily and intractably as wildflowers.

in the end she found she had traded a familiar prison for one completely alien to her. in the end it was probably worse. she did not sour quickly, no --- it took time, but sour she did. 

tl ; dr , personality .

a traumatic, tense, and lonely childhood, ghost-like and disconnected. mommy and daddy issues, because why not. that and a poor marriage leaves her bitter, withdrawn ; there is a deep, foul darkness in her that she does not have the strength to keep at bay.

haunted by rumors of madness passed down from her mother, hard to disprove when she seems to be turning into her more and more every day. more recently questions of her fidelity have been raised ; she ignores them publicly but remains wary. honestly she’s not ‘mad’ it’s just what they call women with big emotions and opinions, y’know.

despite all that she still seeks sweetness, tenderness --- she is seriously traumatized and seriously sentimental, but not necessarily a good person. she might try to be or think she is, but in the end she’s also very shady and good at lying to herself, or aspiring to goodness. wants intensity above all else, whether good or bad. 

basically what happens when you put a sweet, sensitive girl into the rough, careless hands of men ; even when they do not mean to misuse her some damage is inevitably done. that’s not to say she’s only a victim ; she can be as cruel as she is tender, and hurting only makes her want to hurt more.

very insecure, which manifests itself in a lot of different ways ; does she try to make herself big and powerful ? does she try to turn herself into whatever it is she thinks someone wants ? does she overthink things and say too little end up seeming like an absolute whacko ? does she get overexcited and yes.

poised and image-aware but resents it. she should have been the daughter of a miller or a fisherman or even a knight, but not of a lord ; harbors secret dreams of simple domesticity but she’s been told at every turn that makes her weak or small-minded so she dreams of nothing instead.

plot ideas !

cousins. i haven’t yet decided what house anya’s mother is from, so there are plenty of options for familial attachments there, though probably a house from the reach / southern kingdom ! her father also probably had sisters, although they’d probably be another generation older and have adult grandchildren at this point, so. second cousins ? i think ? 

failed or cancelled betrothal. this is also super open ! again, would probably be someone from the southern kingdom, all things considered. what their relationship would be or whether they had even ever met is all very much up in the air. 

former flings. again i like to keep my plot ideas open to customization and further plotting ! but i also think that she may, probably, arguably, definitely have sought comfort elsewhere after realizing her marriage was not going the places she was hoping. idk man she just wants to be touched. how intense it was or how long it went on or what it meant are all very very open to discussion, i love a little drama but i definitely don’t need this to turn into a ship or anything ! and again this would be open to any gender because all my muses are bi !

enemies. i cannot stress this enough, i love enemy connections. maybe anya’s jealous and petty which she is perfectly capable of being ; she loves herself a backhanded compliment and has a bad habit of lashing out when she’s feeling upset or otherwise justified in her shittiness. could also be enemies due to bad blood between their families, since her dad is fairly shitty also. 

family ward. could go two ways ; either someone who spent some time in their childhood at the arbor or somewhere anya might have been sent for some time in her childhood ? she was fairly isolated at the arbor for most of her childhood but i would love for her to still have some childhood connections or something.

#badreputation friends. anya adores her sister-in-law amerei more than she can express ; both of them have a dark cloud of a bad reputation hanging over their heads. anya’s a madwoman and a whore, and amerei’s killed all three of her husbands, if the rumors are to be believed. which means that anya absolutely adores any lady with a bad reputation, especially if that reputation is only bad because of misogyny. they also don’t necessarily need to be friends, but anya definitely finds them more interesting than most others.

little sibling-ey relationship. yea i’m braindead and not thinking of cool names for these things anymore. anyway, gimme a muse who’s still all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and brings out the very best in anya ; she’s always been the youngest sibling but with an intense need to protecc ( catch her rehabilitating birds with broken wings and defending the baker’s boy from bullies ). also has loads of mostly half-bad advice to pass on ! 

literally anything else ! please ! i just love intense, extensive, or lore-heavy plots but also anything casual and fun i am not picky ! i just ! want plots and connections and muse to write !

[killerqueenjoy]

99 Question Tag

okay okay I know i got tagged to do this like a month ago on my main blog by @santonicababy iM SORRY LIN ILY BUT THIS WAS SO DAMN LONG

1) DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR CLOSET DOORS OPEN OR CLOSED

I sleep in the room where everybodies closets are and they all gotta be closed goddamn do you know how spooky it is to even have one open during the night

2) DO YOU TAKE THE SHAMPOOS AND CONDITIONER BOTTLES FROM HOTELS

my parents do, but alas I don't use them in case they have silicones or sulphates in them because I got a whole lotta curls to protect

3)DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR SHEETS TUCKED IN OR OUT?

if this refers to the sheet protecting the mattress, then my answer is in because how the fuck would you be able to sleep with that moving around???

4) HAVE YOU STOLEN A STREET SIGN BEFORE

NO SORRY IM BORING

5)DO YOU LIKE TO USE POST IT NOTES

heck yeah, but for random shit

6) DO YOU EVER CUT OUT COUPONS BUT THEN NEVER USE THEM

nee my parents are fancy fuckers who use the coupons on their phone (our local supermarket has a damn app skskksksk)

7) WOULD YOU RATHER BE ATTACKED BY A BIG BEAR OR A SWARM OF BEES

a bear because its one giant son of a bitch and not millions of tiny motherfuckers and also I've never been stung by a bee and intend to keep it that way because majority of my family seem to be allergic

8) DO YOU HAVE FRECKLES

nope! I have a couple beauty spots on my hands and face but thats kinda it

9) DO YOU ALWAYS SMILE FOR PICTURES

not really but if I've been told to smile then its 200% dead inside

10) WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST PET PEEVE

i find many things annoying

11)DO YOU EVER COUNT YOUR STEPS WHEN YOU WALK

only when i go up and down stairs, but i also try to make sure i step with each foot equally (if that makes sense) and i step on only certain colour tiles when im bored

12) HAVE YOU EVER PEED IN THE WOODS

the real question is have i ever been in the woods? both answers are no

13) HAVE YOU EVER POOPED IN THE WOODS

refer to question 12

14)ummmm idk what this question is meant to be curse you Lin

15)DO YOU CHEW YOUR PENS AND PENCILS

nope, the idea weirds me out

16) HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE YOU SLEPT WITH THIS WEEK

none, this week and in general

17) WHAT SIZE IS YOUR BED

one person and a long yet smol doggo size

18) WHAT IS YOUR SONG OF THE WEEK

Eddie from the Rocky Horror Picture Show has been stuck in my head for the whole week so yeah i guess that

19)IS IT OKAY FOR GUYS TO WEAR PINK

HeLL YEAH DUDE HAVE YOU SEEN RAMI MALEK IN PINK

SKSKSKSKS END MY LIFE

but yeah, anyone can wear anything they want to wear (although a suit made out of meat might not be wise)

20) DO YOU STILL WATCH CARTOONS

dudeeeee scooby doo and tom and jerry are my jam I watch them on the regular (among other things)

21)WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVOURITE MOVIE

uhhm idkkkkk I tend to repress bad movies sksksk

22)WHERE WOULD YOU BURY HIDDEN TREASURE IF YOU HAD SOME

idk shove it in the closet ig at least it will be hidden behind my sexuality

23)WHAT DO YOU DRINK WITH DINNER

I usually only drink before or after but ig water??? cooldrink if I'm in a restaurant

24)WHAT DO YOU DIP A CHICKEN NUGGET IN

depends on the nug

25)WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE FOOD

How dare you assume i only have one favourite

tbh it depends cos i love pizza and pasta and stuff but then i cannot live with my granny's curries ksksmks

26) WHAT MOVIES COULD YOU WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND STILL LOVE

borhap, sing street, rhps, the natm movies, the harry potter movies, any mcu movies

27)LAST PERSON YOU KISSED/KISSED YOU

ahhahahahahahha bold of you to assume anyone wants to do that

28) WERE YOU EVER A BOY/GIRL SCOUT

nope but I was a catrobat which is basically my preschools acrobatics team that was actually really terrible

29)WOULD YOU EVER STRIP OR POSE NUDE IN A MAGAZINE

nahh m8

30) WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WROTE A LETTER TO SOMEONE ON PAPER

this week for a transactional task at school (It was in Afrikaans and I got a C skskskks)

31)CAN YOU CHANGE THE OIL IN A CAR

omg no

32)EVER GOTTEN A SPEEDING TICKET

not old enough to drive!

33)EVER RAN OUT OF GAS

my parents never have for as long as i can remember

34)WHATS YOUR FAVOURITE KINDA SANDWHICH

cheese because I am actually John Deacon

35)BEST THING TO EAT FOR BREAKFAST

MUFFINS!!!!

36)WHAT IS YOUR USUAL BEDTIME

school nights its 11pm otherwise i dont have one lol

37)ARE YOU LAZY

YES BUT MY LAZINESS MAKES ME ANXIOUS OOF

38)WHEN YOU WERE A KID WHAT DID YOU DRESS UP AS FOR HALLOWEEN

we dont celebrate that here but i rly want to it seems fun!

39)WHAT IS YOUR CHINESE ASTROLOGICAL SIGN

Ram, which is really cool because im an Aries, so I'm sheep squared

40)HOW MANY LANGUAGES CAN YOU SPEAK

English, Afrikaans (at a basic highschool level), I could speak very vERY basic isiZulu when I was younger but I'm not sure about now, I know a bit of French and Telugu, and I'm gonna start learning Hindi soon!!

41) DO YOU HAVE ANY MAGAZINE SUBSCRIPTIONS

nee

42) WHICH ARE BETTER, LEGOS OR LINCOLN LOGS

i didn't play much with legos and i have no idea what the second one is rip

43)ARE YOU STUBBORN

to an extent

44)WHO IS BETTER, LENO OR LETTERMAN

I kept reading Leno as Lenin ffs

45)EVER WATCH SOAP OPERAS

I watch them occasionally with my granny, but I don't keep up with them very well (Kasamh Se is my shit tho)

46)ARE YOU AFRAID OF HEIGHTS

no, im afraid of falling in general tho

47) DO YOU SING IN THE CAR

My dad and I bop frequently to Never Gonna Give You Up in the car, and also classic bollywood songs (we have even learnt the choreography for some)

48)DO YOU SING IN THE SHOWER

i perform

49) DO YOU DANCE IN THE CAR

well theres not exactly much space

50)EVER USED A GUN

nope

51)LAST TIME YOU GOT A PORTRAIT TAKEN BY A PHOTOGRAPHER

not sure

52)DO YOU THINK MUSICALS ARE CHEESY

most are but thats why i like them

53) IS CHRISTMAS STRESSFUL

we don't celebrate because we're not Christian (we still eat a lot and exchange presents tho), but it can get stressful if we have to visit extended family, mostly because my extended family loves to insult everything about me so thats great!

54)EVER EAT A PIEROGI

not i good sir

55) FAVOURITE TYPE OF FRUIT PIE

never had one, it doesnt appeal to me

56) OCCUPATIONS YOU WANTED TO BE WHEN YOU WERE A KID

a vet

57)DO YOU BELIEVE IN GHOSTS

i am a ghost

58)EVER HAD A DEJA-VU FEELING

not that i remember

59)DO YOU TAKE A VITAMIN DAILY

yes, I take a multi vitamin, a vitamin D pill because I'm vitamin D deficient, and im not sure if this is a vitamin or not but i take evening primrose oil so that im not outwardly a bitch due to pms

60)DO YOU WEAR SLIPPERS

i wear slipper socks, because my doggo got jealous of my doggie slippers and murdered them in cold blood

61)DO YOU WEAR A BATH ROBE

i have one and rarely use it because i forget it exists

62)WHAT DO YOU WEAR TO BED

a random shirt and pants, though ive been known to kick pants off (ive been doing that since birth), occasionally i manage to get the matching pj set

63)WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CONCERT

ive unfortunately never been to a concert before

64)WALMART TARGET OR KMART

ive never seen any of these stores in my country

65)NIKE OR ADIDAS

i own neither

66) CHEETOS OR FRITOS

neither

67)PEANUTS OR SUNFLOWER SEEDS

Peanuts because thats my doggos name!

68) EVER HEARD OF THE GROUP TRES BIEN

no sorry

69)EVER TAKE DANCE LESSONS

i went to a bhangra class for about a year, and we performed for our parents at the end of that year (i was in one of the few groups that didnt have to dance in lehengas thank goodness)

70)IS THERE A PROFESSION YOU PICTURE

YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE DOING

probably something creative, but I don't mind as long as they're happy with what they're doing and its not harming others!

71)CAN YOU CURL YOUR TONGUE

yep

72)EVER WON A SPELLING BEE

never entered one, having to spell out loud makes me anxious

73)HAVE YOU EVER CRIED BECAUSE YOU WERE SO HAPPY

i think so

74)OWN ANY RECORD ALBUMS

nope

75)OWN A RECORD PLAYER

i wish

76)DO YOU REGULARLY BURN INCENSE

my granny burns incense while I'm at school because my mom and i both get really sick when its just been lit and the smell is strong. Going to the temple is a damn nightmare because of it

77)EVER BEEN IN LOVE

no, too busy fangirling

78)WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE IN CONCERT

oof a long list

Queen, Twenty One Pilots, Waterparks, Frank Iero and the Future Violents (ffs fronk stop changin the name), Panic! at the Disco...to name a few

79)WHAT WAS THE LAST CONCERT YOU SAW

refer to question 63

80)HOT TEA OR COLD TEA

both

81)TEA OR COFFEE

coffee

82)SUGAR COOKIES OR SNICKERDOODLES

sugar cookies

83)CAN YOU SWIM WELL

i wouldn't drown, but im no professional either

84)CAN YOU HOLD YOUR BREATH WITHOUT HOLDING YOUR NOSE

im doing it right now

85)ARE YOU PATIENT

eh

86)DJ OR BAND AT A WEDDING

I've only ever been to Hindi,Tamil and Telugu weddings and lemme tell you 90% of the time bands flop at those weddings because they can't sing the classics without failing miserably, so DJs are generally better. However, in that case, if a band can perform those songs, then I'd prefer a band ig

87)EVER WON A CONTEST

yep, a couple of reading contests

88)HAVE YOU EVER HAD PLASTIC SURGERY

nope, not planning on it

89)WHICH ARE BETTER, BLACK OR GREEN OLIVES

dont like olives rip

90)CAN YOU KNIT OR CROCHET

i can knit!

in fact, my friends and i are so cool that we're in our schools knitting club (which besides myself, @grandfunnyemopainter and @imjustabruh , only has 2 other members)

91)BEST ROOM FOR A FIREPLACE

lounge or study/library

92)DO YOU WANT TO GET MARRIED

i guess, its not on my goal list tho

93)IF MARRIED, HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN MARRIED

no

94)WHO WAS YOUR HIGHSCHOOL CRUSH

currently in highschool, and in love with the borhap cast, sebastian stan, stephanie beatriz and band members (theres more but yeah)

95)DO YOU CRY AND THROW A FIT UNTIL YOU GET YOUR OWN WAY

nope, i have only two ways to deal, be a total pushover or a total bitch

96)DO YOU HAVE KIDS

nope

97)DO YOU WANT KIDS

kind of undecided, but i do want more pets

98)WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE COLOUR

Dark Blue

99)DO YOU MISS ANYONE RIGHT NOW

my dog, shes been ignoring me for about four hours now because I stayed at school for an extra hour (for knitting club!)

@softspaceboibrian @roger-taylor-owns-my-wigg @im-inlovewithmycar do it cowards

[triumphorce]

under umbras of bundles  of stars,

canopies of leaves & branches that shatter-scatter sky image held indirect

as a gleam in eyes

as conscious lay in fabricated gardens watching memories, & desires in dream form

from across highway covered by

blue-white, 

yellow,

& orange lights

sound of tires, mufflers, sirens, 

amidst a higher sense 

attuned to

muffled far cries muffled while crossing empty lands

filled with chilling wind howls, stealing hope, 

which

kickstarts the power on survival mode..

ups& downs 

drown the cries further,

that

war, warn, or cheer..

or just sing..

maybe

a hymn made by souls for souls under same umbra to set free to lead to wonder & beauty beyond the surface of senses directly to free to seek love loss between me and me

buried beneath  road of longest journey to reach

turn feet all around

all about a world I have no idea about

just mad ideas about Kept in journals i turn over

to all but from in front of views not yet exploited by value of which is, views are power,  & are the will in word- to-page transaction

self diminished to substantiate

entries from entrails, not shown to be conquered

win or lose is how I never saw things.

win or win, only optionss, only progress..

yet..,always over complicating;

marathon sprints from start to finish

as I choose, If i choose, to continue to choose to overlook slopes in existence, where hides I, in ruins, digging for recognition

contribute to a mind overloading with what I know I owe society, &me,

burden of see-through beast, I see illusions of future thru,mistaken as truth, play victim, get stressed or believe I'm down on luck ,in dumps of depression and slum of beliefs,

 in a slump with headphones on temple and music up, reminisce about the golden olden, me and broseph, SSB, PSO, kanto, johto, cartoon cartoons, many one saturday morning’s, plenty cinnamon toast, fruity pebbles, so many card games at Books-a-million

but when I open eyes from trance

I'm forever face to face with today is today

not then not later...

just

 changes who changed how I changed regret and anger to compensate for blaming everybody but me

now I stare afraid at dilemmas mass effect decisions

 daily in-and-out-terventions

to keep from falling back into resentment.. spite blinding shelves of subconscious-self- disappointed perpetuating judgment of others binding progression, tying tongue, boiling blood because old habits die hard and I continue fucking up, up raging rapids w/o a paddle,   almost 3 decades of failing infinite (according to projections) feel I missed and am missing out on so much, so much world, so many words coiled inside, waiting to explode,

all the time, just like everybody.. everything mind sets sights on turns to target issue     how unfortunate for aforementioned coordinates, for anyone close enough for me to put in poems' , important enough to torment conscious over, used to be everybody, used to be nobody, used to be just some people, now its just me and i dont know him

   attempts to speak, to learn again, to teach me about me       to learn to teach                     myself, to set example for ambition directed toward a better version, better verses, better reimbursement of time given tryna be an extrovert, free from bitter, free from bitch asses, set internal standards to never  get fucked with again, fuck you, fuck him, fuck her, i only fucks with a journal & question  everyone,  everything, every word, every whisper, shit ima tell my children every day, breakfast lunch dinner,  do your best and fuck the rest, get it, get lit off enlightenment, fuck rest, save roosting for death, dont look at me, looknat the sky, seize the day in everyway brain permits, dont reach for others' and if anyone tries to take yours, that means they dont fundamentally respect life, so always permeate passion, ignore distractions keeping you from creating, test limits, test intentions, challenge imperfections with wisdom, know that perfect is just cosmetics, but i remain quiet.. remain tied up being alone, wondering..           whether I'm right to do any god damn thing        'cause if I don't do it right..       was I right to think I could, wrong to think I understood

am i wrong not to try?

what of what's sacrificed ?

how do i keep count

how did I end up here       in standby...

standing squeamish & deer eyed in light of opportunities rising in horizon of night skies, to step in to obtain warmth, maintain from days before, to do something, do the one thing, but when will I be ready will eyes be ready to comprehend right or wrong

only me, here. only us, on planet.

only who's responsible? how is who is affected by, afflicted by? when is too late? when is just right, always too soon to tell and.. if I don't do it now, then why expect change..

why, why, why

'cause I expect anything at all

anger toward unmanned vehicles imminent to collide with mine

driven mad up eighty-five degree angled walls during rush hour, sun beaming heat into ride, where i travel on path, thru battlefield of past where fallen intentions decompose to ignorance and wisdom sprouts in the mean time.. I'm in between times, feelin down, down down down down by the way

a trail thru fears past dead ends, rotting trees, looks like fallout hit

a past I try an' forget..

but remember out of reluctance 

to accidentally revisit regret,

stand next to biggest fears,  see if facing them uproots soul

rolls ideas in head, non-stop

like trolls troll under bridges 

to which billy goat gruff temper charges like crono's katana on zenan crossing,

lodes of odes to oaths, lightning loaded, aimed at negative minded sapiens bioshocks via rhythm and syntax, cryo cascades of ideas, locked away in moleskine or computer files to put to rest the rest of an inside in arrest to judgment, in side quest of public playthrough, i feel im on public display, static complaining in front of pretty much strangers   modes of awareness to mental problems i exploit to people who might not think im crazy, who might like what i write, might like to write about the same thing, might see giants in those same nodes i stand near, i hear crisp crackles filling an awkward air as i stare at words on sheets that i might tear, might let collect dust, or share prolly might be quiet, only sound is poetic drafts that fill in under open windows, I open slowly, cool rush, goosebumps, awake aware always, even when mind is a crinkled, crumbled candy wrapper still just construct wrinkles in time via           hairs stand, ovation, and encores to

     helping to cross over doubts, screams of slander, stop it all, right now, shed truth in another light, fed through veins like pen's ink to go over and correct vision of pinheads vane turnin art, free thought to cash and competition, trade purpose blow for blow with obstacles in the name of the next step, over opponents, trade nervous for nerves robust to withstand standing up to stretch and spread chest to stand up for work where time invested is braided circulation    goin in circles,        time wasted pet peeve number 1

    a nowhere never felt before        but something seems familiar.. overlooked,   under yards, under pressure of bone leverage, give life a lift thru cracks of a collapsing effort stretched behind chest and ribs

a heart glows in

hot coal hues hearth warmth under carbon sheets

till blood boils till steam coils from pores to kill the cold along roads

sun or none

no light above, isn't lack of.. 

(look inside)

----

harsh heat of reality hot enough to feel cold

make me go ghost in dark times..

friction strong enough to spark moist..

continue until i sear nerves disembody fromm pain till im felt by meta-form of others

heartfelt arcs between soul and soul-mind 2 mind

light releases thru iris folds spectacle in spectacles----

spectrum wheel of emotions spins &spins to  understand self an urge that intensifies the more  i live life as well as I can Improve every day, no excuse, don't ignore the corners, get behind my ears,every nook and cranny in creative muse-um, uhm, duh, raised on books, nintendo, animation,& wishbone, outside, only myself as playdate, use every square inch as play-scape under every hair in head, a mind uses face and body as way to create 4 fourever& vice versa to escape who ever & know I can do whenever, wherever

wherever i go, a voice in mind goes

that keeps on talkin , keeps me talkin tellin me I've talk--, wrote enough hoped enough to last a lifetime, but that's not enough

and I still got a lifetime

to either solidify or fuck it up

gradually let go of 

to concentrate on life's finest moments i build to build form in appreciation, saying get up, enjoy the sun rays breaching clouds just before dawn; gett off yo butt and do what you know what you taught you to do when you were at multiple low points and you promised you, you'd never fall to end, even if you fall again, again, and again, never stall in the middle of  takeoff stop in middle of road, cant press play if you lost remote, might as well get up and do it, crawl, run or walk away when the times calls to brawl dark-inner energy only honorable mentions defend health during dishonorable discharge of nega, into rivers, into blue sky.. bordered by white clouds and linear silver

a safe place, work space, desk clerk sifting day to day thru file cabinets memories in memos in notebook; written relativity explaining how I see, what I think say what i want like im eight, glad i spent so much time with words and space-bars,   to escape judgment, hatred,

anxious surrounded by bad vibes

above an Earth, below expectations; over a self under surveillance by approval from inside, crazy dimensions, On the fence between people and myself I close eyes, ride waves of nostalgia once more..

see plenty light to traverse pathways, walk fer hours, walk like back in younger days, playin, runnin, completely captivated immersed in games played, tv, roller blades, monopoly, scary stories, trampolines

&10thousand songs later, 10million thoughts later, here I am doing what I made me to.

can't wait for the next chance

supplied energy through lines to hidden gracelands.