#like one whom I thought was at least friendly with blocked me for posting an old art trade I did with a pal

[frosty-tian]

(Vent replaced.)

[cat-downthestreet]

hey, listen! this is a rant post about neurodivergent characters in Genshin and my frustration with the fandom's reading comprehension skills. if you're in a bad place or just don't like angry rants, please don't force yourself and go read something else instead. <3

Okay, so, I watched this video recently, and let's just say, I have some thoughts.

https://youtu.be/tYK3297p4rk?si=eMaf8NF57HFlUhfd

This isn't just a Xiao problem- the entire fandom is terrible at characterization. The example that makes me the most angry is the mischaracterization of neurodivergent characters.

Take Alhaitham for example. He's often seen as rude and narcissistic by the fandom- which is especially apparent in Haikaveh content, where people portray him as straight up abusive.

You wanna know why this makes me so mad? The supposedly narcissistic and rude traits Alhaitham has are actually just exaggerated symptoms of autism.

Like, come ON, people. Don't skip dialogue. Better yet, go read through his story quest again. He straight up tells someone who sees him as narcissistic that he doesn't see others as less than himself. Also, his voicelines basically confirm this- he's extremely socially inept and he doesn't care. He has difficulty showing emotions as readily as his peers- that doesn't mean he doesn't have them, just that he expresses them differently. He comes across as rude because he doesn't get that people don't like to hear what they're doing wrong, and he probably doesn't care because that's not his problem. If people don't like how blunt he is, that's their problem. At least, that's how I think he views the world.

And like, there are SO many hints that he's autistic. He wears sound-blocking earpieces, for crying out loud. Hell, the ENTIRE REASON why he helped out during the Archon quest was because he didn't want his life to change too much. Preferring routine is an autistic trait.

And the worst part is, when I talk about this outside of neurodivergent groups, people tell me I'm wrong and that he couldn't be autistic DESPITE THOSE PEOPLE NOT BEING AUTISTIC THEMSELVES.

And I'm not saying that every autistic person relates to Alhaitham, but I certainly do. And I'm actually quite friendly because I'm anxious about being rejected. Alhaitham isn't, and I'm so jealous of him for that. He's living his best life.

Finally, back to the Haikaveh thing... Alhaitham isn't abusive. He doesn't say horrible things to Kaveh, and the one example of him doing that I could find, he immediately backtracked and subtly tried to make Kaveh feel better. Hell, Alhaitham doesn't even actually care about making sure Kaveh pays rent. He says it as a joke, but because he's autistic and his tone of voice doesn't give that away as well, he's portrayed as abusive and misunderstood as narcissistic. Y'all just don't like neurodivergent people and it shows.

Yes, neurodivergent includes Xiao. PTSD is often viewed as a form of neurodivergency, and there are many MANY characters in Genshin that have PTSD or some other form of neurodivergence. Yet people refuse to see them as such and mischaracterize them as "edgy," "narcissistic," "unapproachable," "weird," and the like. Yet none of these characters are any of those things.

You wanna know the true narcissists? The true edgelords? The actually rude people? Might I direct your attention to Scaramouche, Childe, and Dottore, whom everyone makes out to be as misunderstood pathetic little meow meows that need love.

Reminder that only two of those three are actually redeemable, and one is STILL an edgelord who is more rude than Alhaitham could ever be, while the other is a certified insane person with a weird set of morals.

(Side note: I love Scaramouche and Childe as characters. I'm just tired of people acting like they aren't worse than the autistic characters. Scaramouche is extremely rude, but he's trying to be better as Wanderer thanks to Nahida's help. He has severe PTSD, and Childe does, too. But both of them are actually messed up and have done horrible things, yet people portray them as better and more in need of love than the characters with unlikable (read: neurodivergent) traits.)

Don't even get me started on how people portray Kokomi, Sucrose, Fischl, Diluc, Zhongli, Cyno, Furina, Neuvillette, and Albedo. Especially that last one- I WILL get mad if one more person tries to tell me he's just emotionless and rude.

Also, if anyone is wondering where I've seen people misunderstanding these characters, it's mostly on Hoyolab site discussions. There's one too many posts talking about how "rude" and "annoying" these characters are.

With Alhaitham especially, I see many people writing him as abusive in Haikaveh content. I see people arguing about the ship being toxic because Alhaitham is "abusive," "unfeeling," and "cruel." Even people who like the ship portray him as such. And I've seen too many people comparing him to Dr. Ratio, who is literally just a narcissist who views others as beneath him. Don't get me wrong, I understand the comparison. It's just... very obvious that people skipped dialogue during Genshin's Archon and story quests.

And it's frustrating because I've been misunderstood in the exact same way. I've been called "rude," "annoying," and "unfeeling" in the past and it's screwed me up. Seeing people do the same thing to a character I so deeply relate to makes me lose confidence in both myself and people around me.

If that's how you view a fictional character with autistic traits, how do you treat real people with the same traits?

Thanks for reading this far. My previous post seemed to get a lot of attention, so I felt more confident about posting my full perspective on this subject. Can any of you think of other characters that have been constantly misunderstood in the fandom? I'd love to hear about it.

[tennisarchives]

warning for a clearly anxiety-ridden oversharing freakout below the cut. sorry. i’m too sensitive and i’m unfortunately acutely aware of it.

tldr; im being a drama queen. gonna take a tumblr break for a week or two. to my mutuals, feel free to dm for my insta. i’ll be active until i wake up tomorrow morning and then i’m gonna zip

gonna preface this by saying this is in no way directed to the people whom i actually talk to constantly on here like you lot were lovely and im just dealing with a lot of demons in my head :(

anyway. sometimes i feel more like a product manufacturer than a person on here. and idk. i know most of you guys are really just following me for gifs and content and whatever but. yeah. idk. i guess the things i say don’t matter to anyone unless it’s funny. or if people want to call me out. not that im mad abt that exactly btw i do appreciate when people respectfully call me out for my own mistakes but. sometimes. i feel like im in a fishbowl and you’re all just waiting for me to say something wrong and cancel me. or then again, maybe most of you already think im a shit person and you just stay for the gifs. or maybe you guys think i’m a loser who has nothing to do but spend all day on this goddamn website.

and i know, somewhere inside me, that that’s not true and that it’s clearly the anxiety talking. maybe it’s just me maybe i’m making this up in my head i dunno. but i’m just kinda tired right now. too tired to battle the anxiety like usual at least. and i don’t really feel wanted outside of the content i produce, beyond the notes of my gifs or my fun posts. which ik shouldn’t matter but. i’m a pathological people pleaser etc etc.

(god, seeing this all typed out, i can’t even fucking blame you guys if you actly don’t like me cause. i kinda wanna shake myself by the shoulders and tell myself get a grip girl the world doesn’t revolve around you shut up shut up shut your damn mouth—)

i’ve been trying to manage by unfollowing and blocking a few people (which btw, if i did that to you and we used to be mutuals, it’s probably nothing personal i mostly just kept people i’m a bit closer to). but i’m still not really settled. and considering how i’m posting like every other day about feeling like shit, you guys probably figured that out lmao.

and well. on a separate note. seeing that rat’s name alone is too much for me sometimes. i couldn’t watch his game with carlos. i spent hours in his match with daniil turned away from the television, wearing noise canceling headphones while trying (and failing) to talk myself down from a full blown anxiety attack. i’ve said this before but the way people talk about him, both the fucked up silence and the justified outrage, it reminds me way too much about a family problem i have right now. hits uncomfortably close to home. prior to this i kinda thought i’d made my peace with the whole family situation but no apparently not. had he won the semis, i wasn’t even sure if i would be able to stomach cheering for jannik if it meant having to watch that man play.

so. idk. between the way actual tennis has been making me feel and the way tennisblr in general has seemed for me lately, i figure i need some space.

long story short ive been spending way too much time on tumblr this ao. and its gotten really bad for my mental health i guess. so i think i need to take maybe a week or two, to clear my head. watch tennis without opening this app every other point. spend time with people i love. get back to therapy. try to be a functioning adult.

(this is so fucking dramatic for a goddamn week of no tumblr i know that and i want to smack myself upside the head because why am i like this why do i make things snowball why why why—)

anyway. yeah. that’s it. if you actually read through all of that then. thanks. if not it’s okay too.

to my mutuals, the ones whom i’ve had at least some form of friendly interaction with in replies or dms, you can ask for my insta account btw. not that i’m crazy active on there but like. if you guys wanna be friends beyond the anonymity of this yknow. no pressure though.

[jahayla-parker]

💜⚡️ Jahayla’s Quick Explanation, Apology, & Appreciation Post 💜⚡️

Explanation and Apology

Many of you have noticed that I’ve been MIA for a bit (minus my prescheduled posts), so I wanted to say a few words.

First, the posts you’ve seen lately were PRE-SCHEDULED. I promise I’m not avoiding, ghosting, or ignoring ANYONE. 💜

I legit haven’t been online on here in awhile. This includes tags, notifications, comments, messages, asks, etc.

I’m sorry if it seemed like I was being rude by not having interacted, it’s only because I wasn’t online!

Why did I stay off Tumblr for a bit?

Outside of increased responsibilities in my life, lately when I’ve come on here I’ve been getting hate and pressure.

It’s not an excessive amount, but it’s enough to make me not want to open the app. 🤷‍♀️

As far as the hate goes, I’m not going to justify any of it by responding to the messages (other than blocking the sender) nor by answering the applicable hateful asks in my inbox. 💁‍♀️

In terms of the pressuring, I mean.. I get it. I too struggle with a lack of new content for my favorite characters/people/stories/etc.

But, please realize even while I’ve been away from the app, I’ve been posting stories at least twice a week if not more. I know it might not be what, or for whom, you’re wanting just yet. But, I’m getting there, I promise!

I’m still writing and have been during this unplanned ‘Tumblr break’.

I will try and get new content that’s not already on the pre-scheduled list ASAP. But please be patient with me!

If you have concerns about a particular request, you can always ask or check in! 💜

But please don’t yell, try to make me move it up or post before it’s complete, or state that I need to do a certain fic before a different one. I have a reason for my ordering even if seems like chaotic madness lol. And I’ll get to it all, but to ask me to bump down or postpone someone else’s request for yours is not very considerate.

Appreciation

Lastly, I want to thank all of you who have been so friendly and supportive! The amount of love I feel from many of you outweighs the hatred I might get from time to time. And I truly appreciate you for that! 💜

And to my fellow Swifties, wanting to share my thoughts with you all and hear yours (for Speak Now TV of course) is what motivated me enough to bring me back to the app tonight, so thank you 💜🎵

Tagging some of my more interactive mutuals to be sure they see this explanation as to my lack of response! 💜

@b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @ell0ra-br3kk3r @missdreamofendless @nikfigueiredo @theslayerofthevampires

[eritvita]

My name is Celeste. I prefer she/they pronouns, and I’m 30.

because this is a sideblog, and because my main account is my personal, i will be selective in following. i’m a bit selective with whom i write, for my own peace of mind and creative connections. but just because i’m not following you, doesn’t mean i won’t write with you!

my discord is available to mutuals!

my character's spotify playlist is here.

WRITING

open starters are here.

my writing wishlist is here.

memes are here.

i am oc friendly. i am canon friendly. i am multifandom friendly. i do write with duplicates of the same character. i will write with self inserts!

this blog is multi-ship, multi-verse, and does not exercise exclusivity.

i do love to improvise, and i do love realistic drama, but i’d prefer out-of-character permission before anything gets way out of hand. i do control how my character acts and what he thinks and says, and wish for no forced motions or putting words in mouths.

if you reply to an in-character ask, i will make another text post: it’s easier on me. i don’t believe in reblog karma, nor will i get offended if you reblog a meme without sending one. i do reserve the right to not answer an ask if the inspiration doesn’t come.

the same goes for threads. if i get the feeling that we’re both going back and forth waiting for the other to contribute, or if it feels like i’m the only one pulling the weight, or if inspiration has flown the coop, i’ll probably drop it. we could always start something new; or, if you feel like a thread has been ignored without reason, tell me!

i have a very whimsical, formatted way of writing: i write in novella and multiple para. my preferred style is present-tense, third person. sometimes i’m dialogue-heavy. sometimes i use icons, and sometimes i don’t. sometimes a line of dialogue might seem confusing or mushed together for a lyrical word scramble, or my character tends to repeat things already mentioned/translated to him in a reply previous: this is purposeful, and part of a character quirk. i’m more than willing to translate ic babble out-of-character if it’s needed.

i am willing to rp on discord, but since my preferred style is via tumblr, this will only be with mutuals.

SHIPPING

this character flirts. he comments openly of physical, mental, and spiritual beauty, but that never means that I, the writer, am forcing a romantic/etc. relationship. i encourage any and all ic reactions that happen in result.

with shipping, i would like chemistry first and foremost. my character is romantic, but not enough to tie the knot immediately, at least without involved plotting. there will be smut on this blog, but everything is put under a ‘read more’ and will be tagged appropriately. i will not write smut or explicit themes with anyone under 20, & i will block minors.

i have no problem shipping with duplicate characters, or canon characters, so long as the relationship is solid. talk to me ooc! i’m sure we could figure something out.

this character’s past & current relationships are listed here.

GENERAL

i have a timeline on my verses page for the three Dragon Age games made by Bioware, in which the main verse of this character is borne. i have played all three games, and i am very diligent over yt playthroughs and thought-provoking meta. the timeline on my verses page does give yearly points over where my character has been, but they are not fixed points. a thread, or an ask, can completely commence whenever, wherever, all depending on the people involved.

this is a lore and irl magick-based blog, which will include blood and drugs and great, mystic topics, with questionable symbolism, nudity, and sexual situations. i will always tag anything not safe for work, but please tell me if i miss a trigger.

tagging as ’___ for ts’.

most icons are mine, some are by Desii; the icons with the photo-shopped ears are by Gale.

side image credit: -x-

text divider credit: -x-

[sjweminem]

ok i'm gonna post what i already had saved so far of those self-indulgent vann thoughts i started at 5AM the other day when i couldn't fall sleep (the post of which i shared those pixelated screenshots) bc i wanna finish it up, like i know where i'm going with it and all that it's a finished thing in my head but..i feel shy about it and require encouragement. you need to water me you need to use your praise (no i have not re-read or proofread this at all no i will not do so in the future)

here you go 😳😳

so movie-wise at least (this is re: the movie ONLY) vann seems like someone who Does Not Fuck but purely bc he's PRETTY preoccupied with other activities. but he's not naive or anything and he knows how to use sexuality as a tool to get the attention & trust of somebody he feels like he's gotta kill for his weird moral purposes, but never follows thru with the act cuz he's got a much more. pressing goal, so over time his relationship with sex and intimacy as a concept has become intertwined with these contexts and has ceased to register as anything that can be enjoyed for its own sake.

but this is what sets the fun stage in that he'd just totally short-circuit should somebody manage to have him ACTUALLY lusting, VERY much to his surprise and confusion as it's no longer a familiar sensation, and his controlled, methodical thinking falters and he's just vulnerable as shit. READY for taking. empty brain blank slate ideal slut-to-be. highly twankifiable. especially once the hands finally get on him, got him pushed against the wall staring deer-in-the-headlights just a total GONER as one creeps up his shirt to feel him up skin-on-skin and another slides down the back pocket of his pants to squeeze his ass what the HELL is going on it never gets THIS far no keep going though by the way my name's vann,,

so with that background established let's pull from the movie plot a little bit and imagine: you're the one from whom he ends up renting a room. it's all smooth and friendly you're not on his murder radar, you make sure to take real good care of him and he's comfortable and content with you and your home. you end up bonding even, he allows that to happen genuinely. BUT unbeknownst to him you know his little secret, you know what goes on when he leaves to drive around for days, know what's really in that flask he keeps around, but for whatever reason you don't give a shit about all that. it's fine he's very pretty, it's ok to let some things slide, who give a shit.

you keep that knowledge to yourself with the feeling that it could be useful one day, and you only confront him about it when you happen to find him doing his little potion-mixing on the bathroom sink in his twinky little shorts. he's caught way off guard and sputters out some excuse but you decide it would be more fun to reveal that you know exactly what he's been up to and see the look on that angel face. you tell him you know the very name of the chemical compound in that vial you've caught him with in-hand, that the asshole down the block didn't die in a drunken accident, but don't worry vann sweetheart nobody else does, nobody suspects a thing. you assure him you'd MUCH prefer to keep it that way- oh you make for such lovely company, such a doll, so polite, i would just hate to see you get taken away, et cetera et cetera.....

but this is still YOUR house after all, and he agreed to follow YOUR rules when he moved in. you remind him, and tell him that, most importantly, he's jeopardizing YOUR safety- if he gets sloppy and gets caught well, you're guilty of harboring a criminal then aren't you. you promise you won't say a thing, he's safe under your roof, and it will stay that way as long as he promises to be a good boy, to behave himself, if he wants to remain under that roof. visible relief washes over him and he totally doesn't blush at your tone and choice of words and especially not at the way you eye his mostly-naked body up and down in a deliberately slow manner.

[thiswasinevitableid]

for the meet ugly prompts, 38 indruck nsfw ;)

Here you go!

38: I overhear you ordering your coffee in a coffee shop and I’m trying to place your voice when I realize that you’re the phone sex operator I’ve been calling on and off for the last few months but the realization startles me so much that I accidentally spill my drink on you and you’re pissed

Indrid thought he was having a normal day. He’s treating himself to a post work iced vanilla mocha, then he’ll go home, watch T.V and draw, maybe jerk off, then go to bed and get up in time for his eight a.m appointment tomorrow.

He’s messing around on his phone when the person placing their order catches his ear. There’s something in the drawl, polite and friendly, that feels weirdly familiar. It’s not a regular at the shop, and a glance at the mans face offers no useful information; he’s a complete stranger.

The barista asks something about the second drink, and the man replies, “as sweet as can be, please.”

“Ahnngod, please, please, please say I can cum?” Indrid’s been edging himself with the fleshlight so long his wrist is sore.

“Hmmm” the voice on the phone takes his sweet time answering, “dunno, not sure I punished you enough for teasin me in the bar.”

Indrid whimpers, hoping the neighbors can’t hear (even if he’d like them too, they haven’t consented to it).

This is how his calls to the 1-800-Hot-Guys line have gone ever since his first time. He asks for “Ryan,” gets a sweet, southern greeting before the other man asks what he’s in the mood for tonight. See, Indrid’s only recently begun exploring his interest in men, and is discovering that a better sense of his sexuality makes it much easier to get in touch with his other desires. Like being fucked in a bathroom stall where lots of people can hear what’s happening to him.

Ryan always takes the ideas generated by Indrid’s desire-addled brain and runs with them. Tonight, virginal Indrid Cold went to a leather bar and found a bear waiting for him (he suspects Ryan might be one in the real world, because when Indrid first revealed that preference his moans sounded a touch more genuine). The bear made him blow him in front of everyone to make sure he was worth taking home, then told him not to cum until he was done fucking him.

“Please?”

A chuckle, “Okay darlin, you can cum.”

Indrid’s certain he hurts Ryan's ear with the noise he makes as he spurts into the toy, but all the other man says is , “Good boy.”

After a moment, he adds, “aw fuck, meant to bring some spankin or somethin into the scene because I know you like it.”

“That’s, that’s quite alright. I’m not sure you could ever disappoint me.”

“Thanks, sugar.”

Indrid whines, hoping it sounds horny and not like the noise a man who’s just realized he’ll be sleeping alone makes.

“You like when I call you that? Because it’s true; you’re as sweet as can be”

As he’s been having its slow-motion realization, Indrid’s body has been going on autopilot, picking up his cup when the young woman behind the counter calls his name. Which means that--when Indrid startles at his revelation-- the cup is in perfect position to send its contents flying straight onto the man who caused it.

“AHfuck, jesus man be careful!”

“I, I’m so sorry, here, let me-” he slips in the puddle of coffee and hits the floor, kicking the other man in the shin on his way down.

“Owfuck, fuck, okay, don’t fuckin try to help again.” The man snaps.

“Nono, right, I’m sorry, goodbye” he scrambles up, sticky with shame and vanilla syrup, and hurries out of the shop.

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

Duck keeps an eye on his burner phone while playing Plants vs Bom-Boms on his real one. It’s shaping up to be another night with only two calls.

He took up the phone sex thing during the last government shutdown; the park had to furlough them, and he needed money. The extra cash was nice enough that he kept at it even after work started back up. He isn’t the most in-demand operator; he can’t lie, laughs a little too easily, so lots of callers don’t come to him a second time.

One of the few who does is Indrid. He’s Duck’s favorite because their fantasies align well enough that he actually jerks off while on the phone with him. But the guy hasn’t called in two weeks; this is a bummer, in part, because Duck came up with a scenario involving a pool table and a biker gang he thinks Indrid would really be into.

More than that, he’s worried about him.

He worries about him so much that even a half a day later he’s wondering if he should figure out how to have someone check on him. The coffee shop is conducive to thinking. Right up until the dipshit who spilled coffee on him a few weeks back plops down in the seat across from him.

“You here to ruin another shirt?”

The man, all silver hair and angular features, shakes his head, “Nono, I, I really am very sorry about that. I came to offer to buy you another.”

Duck points at his cup.

“Some other time?”

“You come here often?’

“Since I moved to the city, yes. I was out in the suburbs up until a few months ago.”

“Fine. Next time we see each other, you owe me a drink.”

He nods, nearly sliding his red glasses off his nose in his eagerness. Then he taps on the table, “There’s, ah, something else you should know. We already know each other. In a way.”

Duck frowns; he’s never seen this guy before, he’d remember his face.

“We talk on the phone. Often.”

Oh fuck.

“My name is, ah, it’s, it’s Indrid.”

“Jesus, glad you’re ok--hold the fuck on. How the fuck do you know who I am?”

“I recognized your voice the last time we were both here. I, I wanted to get to know you more but I felt it was only right to do so if you knew I knew who you were so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable, but you clearly are, I’m so sorry” he stands up, banging his knee in the process, “I promise I won’t call any more, I didn’t mean to be creepy, I’m sorry, goodbye.”

He’s out the door in a flash of long limbs before Duck has a chance to respond.

Duck sighs, downs the rest of his coffee, and decides not to dwell on the fact he’s going to miss Indrid’s calls.

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

Indrid’s excited. He really is.

It’s just that the sex club is even more overstimulating than he anticipated.

It was alright at first; when he replied that yes, this was his first time, the guy working the counter ushered him over to a set of blue velvet seats and told him to wait. Soon, Indrid and ten others were being given a rundown of the rules, risks, and etiquette of the space, their understanding of which they signed in a neatly typed contract.

Then they turned them loose into three stories of sexual exploration and Indrid froze, totally unable to process it all. Lucky for him Lucy, there with her girlfriend Willow, helped him navigate the edge of the first floor until they came to one of the “chill out” rooms; rooms for people for whom the club was as much a place to chat with friends as it was a place to get spanked or suspended. They even have juice.

After three separate people check to be sure he’s alright, he asks the trio on a nearby couch where he should go to if he’s interested in bondage and impact play. They all agree the second floor is his best bet, and that there’s a shibari demonstration starting soon.

To reach the demo room, Indrid passes though a portion of the space that reminds him of a hotel. The nice dominatrix explained the rules for their use as: doors and windows closed, leave us alone. Curtains open but door shut? You’re free to watch, but don’t come in. And if the door is open, you’re welcome to join whatever is happening. He pauses at some open windows, but nothing really catches his attention.

The demo room is already packed, so he stays at the back. A perk of being tall is he can see the couple on the little platform easily without blocking anyone else’s view. The dom is explaining why she chose the rope she did and what ties she’s going to show everyone. Indrid listens, but his eyes wander in hopes of finding someone checking him out.

Someone is. But Indrid isn’t sure it’s a good thing.

Duck stands a few bodies to his left, looking him up and down with a slight smile. Well, at least that means he doesn’t think he’s stalking him or something.

The other man meets his eyes, tips his head towards the nearby green room and raises an eyebrow. Indrid nods, picks his way through the crowd to find Duck has beaten him there.

“Y’know, if you’d told me you were into this scene, I coulda worked with that.” He polishes off his water and tosses the cup in the trash.

“I...this is my first time. Is, ah, is it yours?”

“Nah. Came some when I was younger, decided to come out tonight because I was bored and itchin’ to get someone cute in my lap.” The casual way he says it is a hundred times hotter than the practice voice he used on the phone.

“Ah. In, ah, in that case, would you mind if I asked you a question?”

“Shoot.” Duck leans against the wall, grinning.

“Am I dressed alright for this?” He gestures to his pink and yellow tank top and black jeans.

He watches Duck catch his laugh before it starts, which he appreciates.

“You’re dressed just fine, Indrid. I mean, just look at me.”

“I am” Indrid is having such a difficult time tearing his eyes from the way Duck’s white t-shirt fits his chest or how the bluejeans show off his ass. Duck catches him mid-ogle, which is all it takes to drop his gaze to the floor.

“C’mon, sit down with me a sec.” Duck settles on a grey couch, leaving Indrid space to join him, “feel like you and I got off on the wrong foot. You know I ain’t angry with you for tellin me you were a customer, right?”

Indrid shakes his head but sits down all the same.

“Indrid, you startled the hell outta me when you admitted that. For a second, I was sure you were gonna try to get somethin outta me by threatenin to tell my boss at my regular job. But then it was so fuckin clear all you were tryin to do was be straight with me and try to be polite about the drink thing, I wasn’t mad at all. You just up and bolted before I could say as much.”

“Ah. Yes. I, ah, I can be a bit of a walking disaster so I try to get out of situations before I make them even worse.”

Duck touches his hand, “I get bein’ spooked. Happens to everyone. But, uh, guess what I’m also gettin at is, uh, if you wanna actually get to know each other, I ain’t gonna complain.”

“I’d like that.”

“Okay” Duck scoots closer, “let’s start easy; what do you do when you ain’t callin me?”

Indrid tells him about the tattoo shop, which leads to them comparing ink, which in turn leads to Duck getting on a ten minute digression about native plants. They’re debating the best Cramps album (Duck votes for “Date With Elvis,” Indrid for “Off the Bone”) when they decide to stretch their legs, Duck holding Indrid’s hand as he weaves them through rooms and clumps of people.

They end up doing laps of the second floor, people watching, during which Duck nudges Indrid playfully, “Knew you were kiddin me with the never been fucked stuff.”

“Ah, well…”

“Holy fuck, you’ve never had sex and you picked here as the place to try? You got guts, sugar.”

Indrid blushes, “Well, yes and no. I’ve never had sex with another guy, but I feel confident in what kinds of things I want to try. You helped a lot with that; you made me feel safe enough to express and explore my more intense desires.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“I came here out of curiosity, and because I thought my chances were good of finding someone who shared my interests without running the gamut of dating.”

“So all that stuff about bein watched, bein roughed up and used, you, uh, you really like it?”

“Indeed. Do you like it too? I, ah, I assume you pretend to like everything when you work on a sex line.”

“You’re supposed to yeah. But I’ll let you in on a little secret” Duck leans close, whispers in his ear, “I never was much good at pretendin.”

“Oh. Oh my.” He leans against Duck, excitement making his legs unreliable.

“You want me to show you just how much I like it?”

“Please.”

Duck kisses his cheek, “Missed hearin you beg, sugar. C’mon.” He pulls Indrid two doors down to a room dedicated to impact play. People are sprawled and tied to crosses, benches, chairs, all of which look exciting. Duck doesn’t stop to consider them, doesn’t even hesitate on their trip. He stops at a table, one bolted to the floor, and digs through a nearby basket.

“Here it is” he pulls out a red blanket, holds it out for Indrid to test the texture.

“It’s lovely.”

“Good” Duck spreads it on the table, “you’ll be comfier this way. How naked do you wanna be?”

“Is just my underwear alright?”

Duck points to the completely nude person being spanked on his right and the fully clothed one being hit with a crop to his left.

“I meant with you.”

Duck sets his hands on Indrid’s hips, “as long as I get to see this cute ass in the air for me, I’ll be just fine.”

Indrid quickly strips to his boxer briefs, opts to leave them on for now. Duck licks his lips, pats the table. Indrid bends over it, feet planted on the floor.

“Gonna use just my hand tonight. Easier for me to feel how hard I’m hittin, and I wanna be able to grope you while I turn your ass red.”

He moans, tenses as Duck rubs soothing circles on his ass. The first few slaps are mild, Duck checking on him after each one. Then one comes, hard and sharp, and he gasps, hips momentarily twitching away from Duck.

“Still good?”

“So very good, more, pleaseAHgod” He clings to the far end of the table as Duck brings ten slaps down on each side before giving him a rest.

“Let’s see...how many times would you say you called me?”

“At, at least fifteen.”

“Fifteen times two, add a few extra for ghostin me…” Duck pets his lower back, “You’re gonna get forty on each side as punishment for not lettin me see you cum all those times you called. Think you can handle that?”

Indrid nods.

“Count.”

“AHone, two, th-three, Aaaah,god, fourfive…”

Indrid loses himself somewhere around “ten” on the second side; all his focus is on being good, on counting out each strike, on taking whatever Duck wants to give him. His heartbeat is loud in his ears and his skin stings from ass to thigh. Dimly, he hears spectators complimenting Duck on having such a well-trained sub.

“He is, ain’t he?” Duck lands the final blow with a grunt, keeps his hand there and squeezes. Indrid whimpers, the pain going straight to his already aching dick. Duck shifts his stance, still mercilessly groping the bruise but pressing his fly against the cleft of Indrid’s ass, making it abundantly clear Indrid isn’t alone in his arousal, “he fuckin knows who he belongs too.”

Indrid moans, tears pricking his eyes; Duck is wonderful, Duck is handsome, Duck is perfect, and Duck is claiming him instead of someone twice as attractive or experienced.

“I know, sugar, you like it when people see how good you are for me.” Duck crouches down, petting Indrid’s hair as he studies his face, “you wanna regroup and finish this at home? Or do you need me now?”

“Now?” Indrid raises his head hopefully. His voice is odd in his throat, vulnerable but not afraid in the slightest. Duck nods, helps him up, thanks the person who offers to clean-up the station since Indrid, “looks like he’ll hit the ground if you let go” and grabs Indrid’s clothes.

“No point in putting these back on. Not with what I’m gonna do to you.”

They find an unoccupied, cleaned room, Indrid flopping on the bed as Duck closes the door.

“You wanna prep yourself or do you want me to?”

“I, I can do it. And could we, ah, leave the curtains closed for this bit?”

“Course.” Duck draws the red fabric tight as Indrid fishes complimentary condoms and lube from the bowl on the table. He’s so wound up he starts with two, the stretch uncomfortable for a few instants before he gets himself to relax.

“You look so fuckin good doin that.” Duck is undressing, only taking his eyes off Indrid when his belt buckle resists him.

“I’ve had a lot of practice fingering myself while listening to you. I, I’d picture whatever person you told me to but I, none of it compares to you.”

Duck blushes as he pulls his pants off.

“I mean it. You, you’re so handsome I” he tenses, pushing the third finger in and fucking himself fast, “I can’t believe it. I,I want to be so good for you, Duck, please,” he’s babbling, decides to quit while he’s ahead, “is three enough?”

“You tell me.” Duck gestures to his dick with a flourish; it’s average length, he thinks, but combined with the dark hair on Duck’s belly and the strong curve of his thighs, it is the most glorious dick in all of creation.

“Yes, yesyes, please come over here now oh, wait, the curtains please?”

Duck whisks them open on his way to the bed, settles with his back against the wall before rolling the condom on with ease. He points to his lap, “You wanna face me?”

“Yes. I...I like the idea of people watching but I don’t think I can handle seeing their scrutiny just yet.” He straddles Duck, let’s the shorter grope his sore ass before guiding it down.

“You sure you wanna do this now?” Duck murmurs into his chest, “you don’t owe me your first time with a fella.”

Indrid kisses his forehead and sinks down in reply.

‘Fuck!” Duck grips his hips, laughs, “that’s a hell of an answer, sugar.”

“Nngh” Indrid’s whole brain goes offline at the feeling of Duck inside him.

“Dick drunk already?” Duck teases.

“YesAHGOD, god, ohmygoodness.” He clings to Duck’s shoulders as the other man fucks up into him with abandon.

“That’s just fine, ‘Drid. Got enough brains for the two of us; all you gotta do is be my cute, fucked-out toy.”

“Nffph” Indrid hides his face in Duck’s neck. His legs and ass, still sore from earlier, are reluctant to obey his mind, so all he can do is let Duck bounce him on his cock or hold him down on it to thrust up in short, demanding jerks of his body.

“We got an audience.”

Indrid tries to moan. It comes out a whimper.

“You want me to tell you what they’re doin?”

“Mmhhmm”

“Two of ‘em are makin out with one eye on you. The other three…” he nibbles Indrid’s ear, “they’re jerkin off to us. Don’t blame ‘em, you look so fuckin good on my dick they all wish they were me.”

“Duck” his cock keeps rubbing on Duck’s belly, threatening to spill before he’s ready.

“One of ‘em asks how you feel on my dick. You want me to tell him?”

“Please.”

“Fuckin’ great!” Duck yells, “it’s his first time and he’s” Duck grunts, bucks his hips, “so fuckin tight but takes it like a fucking champ. Gettin in this ass is a fuckin privilege.”

Indrid smiles into his skin at the pride in Duck’s voice and the responding whoops from outside.

“Fuck” Duck kisses his cheek, “fuck, shoulda grabbed a cock ring, I’m gonna cum way too fuckin fast.”

“Me, me too.”

“Just like a fuckin virgin.” Duck quickens their pace.

“I’m not a--Aaaahn” the noise cuts off as he cums between them, cock pulsing onto Duck’s skin.

“Fuck, fuck that’s hot, fuck, c’mon sugar, lemme cum, lemme cum right in this fuckin perfect assfuck, fuck, ‘Drid.” He holds Indrid down, groaning as he pumps his hips. Then he tips them forward, crashing their mouths together and pressing Indrid into the bed.

When they surface for air, the spectators are gone. Duck pulls out, cleans them both up as Indrid tries to remember how words work.

“So good.” Is what comes out.

“Glad you think so.” Duck gathers him into a hug, “you want me to do all the aftercare here?”

Indrid blinks, “what’s the other option?”

“We could, uh, go back to my place?”

“That...I’d like that. Wait.” Indrid cocks his head, “do you...would it really be okay if I stayed the night?”

“Yep. Kinda hopin you’d stay over plenty in the future.”

“You want to date me?’

“Damn right” Duck kisses him, “besides you, still owe me a drink.”

Indrid kisses back, grinning, “So I do.”

[echo-three-one]

A Forgotten Memory

Likes and Reviews are appreciated. (Reblogs too!)

I - Alex

The bright California sunshine striked across Alex's face as soon as he shifted his sleeping position. The newly assigned agent clicked his tongue and covered his face with his heavily tattooed arms, letting out a slight groan of frustration. His head was slightly pounding from a night of irresponsible drinking, courtesy of his new found friends. It was almost always customary for him to get to know some locals for information, especially in foreign territories, but last night's set of people was wilder than he'd imagined. Americans do have their own definition of fun.

He wasn't much of a heavy drinker, so he actually felt the nasty after effects of the alcohol or whatever they took last night, but none of such pain did he regret. After all, he did get a decent amount of information without raising suspicion.

Sprawled across his apartment wall are photos, articles and a handful of red yarn interlacing across pins of different colors. His own evidence board finally made sense because of last night's encounter. Reports of missing people that later came back disoriented and have no recollection of what happened started increasing day by day and it all started in this exact city.

Taking a fresh white shirt from his gym bag, Alex slipped it on and made his way to the evidence board staring at the piece of paper he had from last night and comparing it against what he had so far. A smirk strewn across his face as he pins it on the board.

"Gotcha." he muttered proudly, blindly dialing his immediate supervisor over the phone.

"This is Alex. Intel was off, they're after a different person. I'm sending it to you as we speak." he informed over the encrypted lines. He did this expertly, as if his whole life was like this, secret spy work and a whole lot of information gathering.

"This one? She seems ordinary, even her name brings out zero results." the voice replied over his phone.

"That's why it makes much more sense. She may be using an alias." Alex commented, standing up from his laptop, casually pacing back and forth as his free hand rests on his hips.

"Well, I trust you know what to do. If she's being targeted then it's either she's being protected-"

"-or a threat to the enemy." he cut off, completing the caller's thoughts.

"Keep us posted while we monitor the other missing person cases."

"Got it." he assured as the call ended, taking one quick glance at the image displayed on his screen.

Samantha Cooper, age 26, a graphic designer at a nearby local company. Alex took his time staring at her, clearly familiarizing her face as she will be the object of his eyes for this mission. He can't help but appreciate how cute she is, how her brunette curls perfectly fit her facial features. It would be such a shame if she's actually a threat and it would make him a believer of the phrase "looks can be deceiving". He quickly tapped on his burner phone arranging a meetup with a certain person from last night, a person whom he believed to lead him right into Samantha.

* * *

Strong gusts of salty seaside air blew across Alex, who sat on a park bench by the baywalk waiting patiently for his guide. He somehow wished he brought a cap, as the harsh rays of the sun kept his eyes squinted while looking at his phone.

"There you are!" a short blonde haired woman greeted the agent as he busily taps on his phone. Alex quickly recognized the person as Maxine, also known as Samantha's best friend and roommate, whom he met at the bar just last night.

She wore tattered jeans and a white shirt covered by a gray cardigan, a typical choice of clothing around these parts.

"Yep." Alex stood as he shakes her hand, quite an awkward gesture to say the least, but she immediately dismissed it with a friendly hug.

"Handshakes are for acquaintances, Alex. If you're friends with Samantha, we're friends." Maxine hugged him as Alex slowly pats her back, still baffled by the action she's done. But it was no time to dwell on those, so he silently cleared his throat and went on to business.

She's obviously alone, but that could also mean Samantha's just letting her go first for confirmation, so Alex took quick glances at visible corners for any sign of her.

"So, where's Samantha?" he finally asked, the question was quite demanding almost indicating urgency. Maxine seemed to catch this reaction from him and made Alex slightly worry about his cover.

"She's still at work, but I'll lead you to our apartment. It's just a few blocks from here..." she goes on about how she should also know Alex at some point if he's really here staying. It felt like she's starting to get cautious whether to let them meet.

"You say you're a friend from her hometown? Come to think of it, she never told me where she came from." She asked the agent as they walk across the block.

"Yeah, from Georgia." Alex replied confidently. Her information was very limited, and judging from it, Samantha may have been also living with a lie. A lie that kept Alex from wondering if she's s threat or she needs to be protected.

"Really? Doesn't strike you both as from there. Or maybe that's just me. What do I know about that place anyway? I haven't been there..." she chuckled and Alex slightly laughed. He was almost being suspicious, something that never usually happens when he's gathering intel.

"Yeah. Moved a lot growing up. Gotta follow where my Dad's job is." Alex commented, trying to support the lie he's built up. Funny how you have to lie to look for the truth, he thought as they pass by the busy streets across the beach.

"Oh, so you're that kind of kid growing up. That's probably why you easily got along with our group last night." she laughed and suddenly fished her phone from her pocket.

Raising a finger, she gestured to Alex that she had to take the call. Alex automatically nodded and she excused herself just by the alley. He couldn't help but be cautious around her, as she told earlier she was the target's roommate and if ever she's a threat, she's also on his watch list. But for now she's all he's got to bring him close to Samantha.

An embarrassed grimace formed on her lips as she approached Alex. The agent raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Sorry, Alex. My boss needs me to go earlier than usual. I'll just lead you to our apartment and I'll let you wait for her on the stairs. You wouldn't miss her if you still know what she looks like, right?" she stepped forward, leading him the way. Alex nodded in agreement and gave a soft "Yeah." as they made their way across two more blocks.

A tall three storey building, walled with dark orange bricks, with three flights of stone steps as entrance greeted Alex as Maxine stops walking.

"This is where we stop. And this is where you wait." She pointed at the stairs leading to the apartment doors.

"She'll be here in a few minutes. She told me she wants to go home immediately after work before she left. Good luck on your meet up, Alex!" She waved goodbye almost in a hurry and left before Alex could even open his mouth.

"Guess I'm on my own now." he muttered and sighed as he sat down on thr topmost slab, just beside the door. He found himself tapping his foot nervously, as if he's really out to meet her. A lie he made that felt so real, even he almost believed they're really hometown friends.

At that exact moment, he saw a foot step on the bottom slab and he immediately trailed his blue eyes across the person. Her floral dress sways to the breeze as a man on a skateboard passes by her. Then their eyes locked for just a second, her hazel eyes now embedded in his memory as she quickly turns back and ran away.

"Hey! Wait!" Alex immediately bolted and followed her.

II - Samantha

[im-thinking-arson]

Hi wow depression is a hell of a thing.

I'm sorry for the relative silence here, considering everything that has been going on in the last (roughly) year and a half it has been really hard to focus on any creative outlets. Everything has felt pretty heavy as I have been piecing together what exactly happened to myself and the people I used to share a community with.

Although my former FC is basically non-existent at this point, I feel it is appropriate to say that I no longer associate with its' leader @morganaux (sernoudenet on Twitter and formerly here) and to clarify why.

I have been struggling with what to even say about the situation. There are so many layers that I don't honestly know if any single cross-section could explain all there is to unpack. When it takes multiple people six months to explore everything they know as fact... I think that shows its not so much of a 'he said, they said' scenario as the few people who still support Morgy have tried to claim.

I feel guilty not speaking up sooner, considering this person is a member of the FFXIV community who I'm fairly sure some of my mutuals follow. Its so hard to speak out when he publicly acts innocent, like he has quietly moved on and refuses to acknowledge what he's done.

The reality feels so cold in contrast, with the knowledge I have- that he has done this multiple times before, burning down or wearing down those he has hurt with false sincerity; claiming innocence, claiming people misunderstand the significance of the intentions behind the knives in their backs, claiming he is the truest victim of the mess wrought of his own actions.

He quietly retweets fan art, cute animals, head canons, and all kinds of fandom things- but also others' tweets to identify with their own traumas- the same traumatic thoughts and feelings he incites in others through a mixture of gaslighting, lashing out, and playing the victim. He tweets passive aggressively about people he feels the victim of, (justified or not) even amid posts about his dearly beloved OC.

At this point I should just block him and try to scrape all memory of what I went through from my mind, but un-fucking-fortunately I know him too well to believe it's over when it's over. He still makes passive aggressive tweets about people he hasn't talked to in one, two, ?? years, a person who was a good friend to him for 10 years before he scapegoated them to maintain his own sense of righteousness.

Seeing as I witnessed him maintain not one, not two, not three- FOUR venting channels in his own discord, including at one point one specifically made for sh*tting on a single person, defending it's use and encouraging others to participate saying 'this is how victims cope'...

I know it's not over, and if he had a single shred of...anything... He could leverage against me he would have already tried to 'cancel' me. I'm not turning my back again to see if he decides to throw another knife.

For a long time I wanted to believe I had simply misunderstood the situation, that his intentions weren't so self-serving. The more I saw, the more I heard testimony from others that matched my own, the more I began to un-repress and process my own memories and connect the dots... And the less sense his own account made.

While I tried to maintain my friendship with him I ignored all the red flags, my own rise in anxiety, the isolation I felt. I felt so much pressure to fit into his equation, to be a supportive friend, to keep track of how he was feeling that I stopped taking care of my own mental health.

All the while he got angry for people not checking on him when he asked for space, threw a fit when anyone failed to accommodate his whims, and even accused his three closest friends of purposefully excluding him by taking screenshots without him in them or even hanging out together when he was offline..

And he would have people believe that most of the issues he was involved in centered on his friends not communicating with him. But in my case at least, nothing could be further from the truth.

I told him I felt uncomfortable with the fact his (at the time) friend had publicly lashed out at me in his discord server for stating my opinion. He suggested I work harder to befriend this person, that he couldn't and wouldn't approach his friend about it because he wasn't a FC member and only there as a friend of himself and his two closest friends.

He lashed out at a former friend (and FC mate) of mine -on my behalf- because they wouldn't stop messaging me while I was at work... And when this person subsequently put me on blast thinking I had put him up to it I mentioned considering posting my side of the story- to initially be shamed (by the person mentioned above) for suggesting I protect myself, stating it could make things worse for the people who had already publicly attacked this person...

I approached him about another former friend of his angrily ranting about a character I had though at the time they knew I was planning to RP (I had spoken about it both in-game and in a discord we all shared) because I didn't know them well enough to feel comfortable saying that made me feel uncomfortable and unwelcome in the space. I approached my former friend because I knew from experience he took things like this seriously and he was the one who had invited this character TO role play in the first place.

He reacted by telling this person he had no idea why I was upset, asked them to address an issue they had no context for - prompting them to write an apology, and then reinforced their worry that I hated them by saying I "probably disliked them since [I] hadn't written them an apology" in return. I had thought they both wanted to drop the subject because he stopped responding about the situation.

He decided the situation was resolved and kept inviting us around one another for at least four months while keeping up the illusion that I disliked this person despite me trying to remain friendly- and said nothing about the situation until AFTER he had nuked his FC and almost everyone was done with his bullshit. I had asked him to be honest about the situation and finally got "[name] thinks you dislike him" ???

(I might add more details about these situations because it's honestly much more of a mess than it might seem, but I'd probably have to write a fucking book to explain everything well in-sequence of events.)

But those examples aside, I told him up front that the favoritism he showed and my concerns being glossed over was messing with my head, that I didn't know if I felt safe in his FC, that the whole situation was making me feel like I was losing my grip on reality, that at one point feeling like I was being discouraged from defending myself was beginning to make me feel su*cidal. These are things he knew.

He reacted to this ignoring both cause and effect, ignoring me unless I reached out first or it concerned RP, continually inviting me to hang out with people he knew I felt uncomfortable with (or vice versa) and normally turning down anything I invited him to do otherwise- including several times that I offered to help him with Eden or dungeons he wanted to farm when he previously said he was free to do so. A couple of times he declined saying he was waiting to see if he could convince another friend... and then threw a fit about 'no one wanting to help him' despite declining my offer and not reaching out to me after his other friend declined (I was still online but he decided to vent on discord instead).

Behind my back he talked shit about me, enough that someone who had known him 10 years and was familiar with his behavioral patterns qualified it 'constant' bashing, whenever I came up in conversation. And even included confronting me about the three situations I mentioned above in a plan he was working on to 'fix' his FC, as if he thought I was reaching out to him to stir up drama.

Eventually it came out that the friend I mentioned in the first example was emotionally abusing his friends (and I found out later told him two of them were talking shit about him- prompting HIM to lash out at them). One of them mentioned that person had still been talking shit about me 6 months later on a private account and when I got upset that THREE people I had thought were my friends didn't tell me, I made a few jokes in poor taste (that I do now regret) about the situation to try and prevent myself from having a mental break down.

The person he led to believe I hated left the discord server at that point and he decided to divert some of the blame for (in his words) 'being worried for this person's life' -whom he had attacked over the situation- to me... blaming them leaving and him having trouble contacting them on me.

I told him if this former friend was indeed attacking people and he was so worried we needed to talk about the situation, since in other situations his response was to ignore the hurt caused. He blew up about me messaging him at work, he blamed me for every situation I had brought to his attention. He went to his mods to rant about me and sent one of them to scope out the situation in hopes they could shut me up.

This is the friend of 10 years, who quickly became concerned and not for the reasons he had hoped. They shared a few screenshots of things said to gaslight me behind my back as the conversation progressed. Eventually the other mod jumped in and, knowingly or not proceeded to gaslight me FOR him, based on what they were told. By him.

They reinforced everything he was saying in guise of a neutral perspective and my efforts to prevent a full-scale breakdown failed. I lost all grip on reality for several days- in which at some point I wrote an apology to him for accusing him of several things that were later proven true- and one thing he, himself, proved he'd lied about to the other person involved.

I spent almost two weeks in a self-imposed social break to sort everything out and attempt to cope with what I was told was reality. I fell into the deepest depression I've been in since I had to run away from home, and honestly if it wasn't for my wonderful SO and our house mates, I might have really hurt myself.

It turns out another situation had been brewing parallel to my own. People had been coming to the social mod, the friend of 10 years, with their own worries about him. Almost every. Single. Member. Including at least four people who came forward with fears that if they did a single thing that he interpreted as an insult or threat they would find themselves exiled, called out, and ranted about in a jumbled mix of truth and fictional-malice until their own friends turned on them to support his victim complex.

These four people came forward on the condition that their names be kept anonymous to protect their identity. He didn't take kindly to this, quickly demanding names so they (his mod team) could handle the situation. The mod refused, knowing he has a history of lashing out at any criticism against him and to protect those who were already afraid of bringing the problems up to Morgy.

He reacted by lashing out at this person, claiming they ruined his life, and attempting to weed out those who had spoken out against him by kicking anyone he didn't feel 'safe' being around from his FC. He posted a message in his FC discord about resuming his 'reign of terror'... Which, even if it was a joke, was in in poor taste after pruning his FC of anyone he didn't think could be convinced of his 'good intentions.'

I missed this first culling of his FC members, I assume, because I had apologized and at the time submitted to his version of events. He approached me soon after I noticed the changes in the discord and FC roster; claiming he really wanted to work things out and remain friends- going as far as to say he was so nervous about my reaction that he was shaking.

I wanted to take him at face value despite everything that happened because yeah, I did want to believe he was sincere, that he was a good friend, and that all of it had been an unfortunate misunderstanding. And at first I did until I started talking to other people who knew him and getting their side of the story. Nothing he said added up. Between first-hand testimony and over a hundred screenshots from multiple people the ONLY things that were clear and consistent were that he lied and fit his narrative to whatever he wanted to achieve.

He tried to reduce conflict by omitting information, he controlled people's perception of one another by how he spoke about them and how close he let them to himself and others, he built a support group by polarizing his friends against his 'enemies' and if anyone had a problem with him... They were wrong, and got added to the pile of 'aggressors' he had accumulated over the years, to be bashed and spit on for years to come.

He may have sensed my change in opinion when I directly asked him to help me reach out to the person who thought I disliked them-  managed to come to an understanding and we mutually apologized for the situation... Without his meddling. Or maybe when he realized I was still on talking terms with the people he had lashed out at and directly asked him why he had kicked people who did absolutely nothing to him... Or it could be that I kept in contact with the person who 'ruined his life' by trying to protect his friends from him. I don't know.

While we were still talking he tried to identify with me and bond over the feeling of loosing the FC, a group of people that despite the anxiety, and pain I had felt in the environment he'd built I did deeply respect and care about... Despite the dissolution of that group and the abuse I suffered being -at the core- his own fault. He even went as far as to say my description of the PTSD and fear I was experiencing described exactly how he was feeling, too.

As our conversations further weighed on my mental health I had to take a break from interacting with him. I was honest again, with what I was told, what I knew, and asked him for honesty about the situation... What he had said about me behind my back and why because I wanted to hear it from him. I wanted to see if he would acknowledge the harm he caused both to me and the rest of the (former) FC.

He never did, and probably won't. He asked for some time to tend to his own stress levels and mental health and then blocked me on all social media and discord, and kicked me from his FC without ever making an effort to reach out.

Of the few people who are still close to him, one of them suggested that "maybe he just decided he didn't want to be friends anymore." But after him begging to have a conversation to iron out all the facts, claiming to be so anxious about such a conversation going well that he was 'shaking', admitting that what he did hurt people and that my being wary of him was understandable, asking me -directly- to let him know if he did anything 'shady', and stressing he REALLY wanted this conversation to take place when we were both able to handle it because of how important he felt it was...

I feel like its fair to say that him suddenly cutting off all contact isn't quite so simple. He could have done that at any point. Before pointedly ignoring my concerns, before gaslighting me, before blaming me for the results of his own actions, before accepting an apology for accusing him of things he did legitimately do, and certainly before directly telling me had no real problems with me, that he it was super important to him that we remain friends, and that I deserved his honesty.

I'm not going to try and tell anyone who they should be friends with or not. Frankly, people can change and in a lot of cases experiences with individuals will be different.

But on that same note, if I had known then what I know now I might have saved myself from roughly two years of anxiety and avoided the state of dissonance I now find myself in. I still have moments where I want to doubt the things I experienced first hand. My mind is still trying to repress my own memories to cope.

A part of me still cares about him despite everything because as far as I knew, he was my friend and I am still trying to reconcile what I found to be true.

At this point I feel like I should say please don't harass Morgy if you read this, but honestly? If you have any reason to hold him accountable go for it. He needs it. And if you have any gut feelings about him or anyone in his circle please listen to it. The few supporters he still has are willing to ignore anything he has done previous to the fall of his FC and have shown they are willing to debate and accuse people who speak out about legitimate concerns involving him.

If anyone has any questions I am willing to answer them and share the proof I have.

And in the off chance anyone wants to (further) argue with me about my experiences or whether or not I suffered enough to be considered a victim, please Google some images of a hand giving the middle finger. But if after that you still really want to play stupid games? I can find you some stupid prizes.

I don't owe him my silence. Or peace of mind. The only thing I owe him is to be as entirely, brutally, honest as possible given the information I have. I think it's a fair offer considering the mind-numbing volume of honesty he -still- owes all of us.

- - - - -

I may add more onto this. Unfortunately the entire situation is a lot more complex, but I wanted to get the backbone of my own experiences out there and there is so much bullshit it can't all be seen from any one direction. A lot of the circumstantial evidence loops back into other situations and makes it hard to comprehensively represent everything on any sort of singular timeline. As I said in the beginning there is a reason it took a small group 6 months to piece it together.

I am far from the only person hurt, and the entire situation was a mess with people feeling unnerved or pressured into going along with his agenda. For the most part now that I have more context I don't blame most of the people involved for their own actions. I fully support those who can't or won't come forward about the situation whether they just want out of his drama, or are afraid to come forward.

[lunaverseimagine]

Didn’t Think You’d Remember

Prompt: I don’t know if you remember me

Pairing: Ron x Reader

Summary: Reader has been thinking about Ron ever since she first saw him in Diagon Alley. Now that she’s finally made the quidditch team for her house, will he notice her? (Note: y/h = your house, reader not in Gryffindor)

Warnings: None? (Unless - spoiler - kissing counts? xD )

Word count: 1.9k

Fic:

You jumped up and down, muddy, soaking wet, and absolutely ecstatic. You couldn’t wait to tell your friends - you’d just been selected as a Y/h chaser! You had tried out for the team every year, never losing hope, practising whenever you could. Being on a quidditch team had been your dream ever since you found out what the word ‘quidditch’ meant, and you couldn’t believe your hard work had finally paid off; you were in fifth year and you’d made it!

Your team’s practises began the very next day. They were gruelling, tiring, and everything you had hoped for. Apparently training was even harder than it would normally be this time of year, because your captain wanted you to be prepared for your first match - which was against Gryffindor. When you’d found out who the new Gryffindor keeper was, you couldn’t help the mix of excitement and nerves that danced in your stomach.

The first time you saw him was in Diagon Alley before your first year at Hogwarts. As a muggle-born, you were absolutely awestruck by everything around you. The first thing you did was have your muggle money exchanged for wizard money by a goblin... goblin! To be honest the creatures had creeped you out a bit, and they still do, but you soon got over that when you started exploring all the magical shops. Even the seemingly mundane items, like your History of Magic book, absolutely intrigued you, and you were sure that you were walking around with your mouth hanging open the whole afternoon.

Of particular interest to you were the wizarding families - it was obvious who had grown up around magic and who hadn’t. For one thing, the wizarding families were all wearing quite peculiar clothes, and for another, they were looking at the whacky shops as though they were as normal as a Greggs or a WHSmith. It was when you neared Ollivander’s, where you’d been advised to get your wand, that you saw several redheads, obviously witches and wizards, chatting and laughing outside. You politely squeezed past them to get inside the shop where you saw another two redheads - a boy about your age, and a short, kind-faced woman whom you guessed was his mother. The boy was flicking a wand in the air with a look of determination that you found endearing. Eventually Mr Ollivander gestured for the wand back - it didn’t seem to be doing anything - and the boy glanced over at you with a shy, slightly embarrassed smile. When he was handed the next wand he did the same flicking motion, but this time you saw a glimmer all around his body that looked.. well, magical. The cutest smile you’d ever seen lit up his whole face, although it dimmed a bit when his mum tipped the minimal contents of her purse onto the counter and had just enough coins to buy the wand.

Since then, you’d heard of Ron’s endeavours throughout the years at Hogwarts: that game of wizard’s chess in first year where he nearly died, going into the chamber of secrets in second to year to save his sister who nearly died, that mysterious event in third year where he broke his leg and probably nearly died, and let’s not forget fourth year where he was one of the four treasures in the bottom of the lake to be found in the second task of the Triwizard Tournament (although you don’t think he nearly died that time). And let’s not forget flying his car to school - you knew it was reckless, but at the same time you admired the courage and resourcefulness, and feared that he would be expelled. You were so relieved to see him wolfing down breakfast in the Great Hall the next day.

Despite your attentiveness to activities, you were sure he’d never noticed you. There was the occasional shared smile in the corridor or in classes that you had together, but you thought that was more out of politeness than any specific feeling towards you.

All that was going to change though - he was bound to notice you in a few weeks’ time because you would be trying to get the quaffle through the very hoops that he would be defending. You felt the butterflies in your stomach again.

--

The day of the match had finally arrived. Your training had been absolutely brutal but you were grateful, because at least now you felt a little prepared. After a quick pep talk in the changing rooms, you followed your captain onto the pitch to loud cheers coming from the stands. The Gryffindor team were approaching the centre where Madam Hooch stood, and as you neared them you could’ve sworn Ron shot a smile in your direction. You brushed it off - he was probably just being friendly before the game.

The captains shook hands and Hooch’s whistle sounded. Thoughts of Ron immediately disappeared from your mind as you focussed on trying to gain possession of the quaffle. You didn’t have to wait long - thanks to a bludger heading towards the Gryffindor chaser the ball had been dropped, and you were perfectly poised to catch it. You flew straight for the hoops, feeling the wind rush through your hair, checking around you for any bludgers or players who might compromise your flight. Surprisingly it was smooth sailing to the posts, and you found yourself face to face with him. You shot Ron a cheeky smile - you were always most confident when on your broom - and faked a throw into the right hoop which successfully fooled Ron and allowed you to score through the centre. You heard the stadium erupt with cheers.

Ron had a shocked expression on his face, like he hadn’t quite comprehended what had just happened, and you gave him a wink before flying a celebratory lap of the pitch.

During the rest of the match you had four more attempts at a goal: two successful and two blocked. In the end it was Harry who caught the snitch, leading inevitably to a Gryffindor win, but you were in good spirits regardless. Three goals scored in your first proper match! You’d talked your parents’ ears off about quidditch, and while they still didn’t quite understand the concept (“Why is it 150 points for the snitch? Isn’t that a bit much?”) you knew they’d be delighted to read the letter you were going to send later telling them about your goals.

--

There was a brilliant feast in the Great Hall that evening to celebrate the first match of the season. You took great pleasure in eating one of every type of food that was laid out before you. Your appetite was a force to be reckoned with and your friends always seemed quite impressed at how much you managed to eat every meal time.

As you were making your way through a delicious pumpkin pie, you noticed your friends looking at something behind you. Turning, you saw a familiar face.

“Y/n,” Ron smiled at you. You were surprised that he knew your name, but hoped you’d managed to keep the shock off your face. “Mind if I take a seat?” The people on your left had already scooted along the bench to give him room.

“Of course,” you smiled back, trying to suppress the butterflies that had once again made themselves at home in your stomach.

“Well played today,” he complimented you as he helped himself to a generous serving of chocolate eclairs. If any student in Hogwarts had an appetite to rival yours, it would be Ron.

“Thanks,” you said breezily, hoping he wouldn’t see the blush in your cheeks, “you too.” You busied yourself with finishing off your dessert while Ron spoke to the other people on your table. They seemed very happy to engage in conversation - it appeared it wasn’t just you who thought highly of him. You loved how friendly and open to conversation he was, even with non-Gryffindors. When you’d both finished your food and the hall started emptying, Ron asked if you’d like to walk around the grounds with him. You tried not to agree too quickly.

--

There was an autumn chill in the air but at least it wasn’t raining - not that any weather would stop you from spending time with Ron (who knew your name! and wanted to spend time with you!). You hugged your cloak around you and listened intently to Ron talking about his favourite quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, who just so happened to be your favourite team too.

You’d just finished discussing which Cannons chaser you thought had had the best season when you reached the edge of the lake. You both stopped walking and took a moment to just look at each other. His eyes wore a soft expression, and his hair was slightly ruffled from the breeze, which made him look more adorable than usual. 

“To be honest, I didn’t think you remembered me.” You said quite suddenly, not even knowing yourself that you were going to speak.

“I’ve been thinking about you since I saw you in Ollivanders,” Ron spoke gently, his voice barely above a whisper. “You- you didn’t look put off when you saw my Mum emptying… Well anyway, I thought you seemed really decent.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Ron using ‘decent’ as a flirtatious - is that what it was? - word.

“Anyone who cares about that isn’t worth your time,” you replied adamantly, “especially with all the amazing stuff you’ve done over the years.” Now it was Ron’s turn to blush.

“I haven’t really done anything, Hermione’s the brains and Harry’s done all the hard stuff, I just, sort of, tag along.” Is that really what he thought of himself? 

You reached for his hand, your fingers brushing his. He didn’t pull away, so you took his hand in yours and looked straight at him with an earnest expression on your face. “I bet Harry wouldn’t have been able to do half that stuff without you by his side, without your courage giving him strength.”

Ron searched your eyes, trying to work out if you really meant what you were saying. He seemed satisfied with what he saw, because the next thing you knew he was lowering his face towards yours. He paused, barely a centimetre away, as if waiting for consent. You happily obliged, closing the rest of the distance between you.

The butterflies turned into fireworks. You ran your hands through his hair - you’ve been wanting to do that for so long - and it was just as soft as you’d imagined. You gave it a gentle tug and he let out a quiet moan, grazing his teeth against your bottom lip. You pressed your body against his, revelling in the feeling of being so close, of being one, with this boy you’d been thinking about since you were 11. His hands were on your waist, holding you tightly, and you knew that he’d been thinking about you for a while too. You’d only had one proper conversation with Ron, but your lips were so in tune with his that it was as though you’d been doing this forever.

Eventually you came apart, your heavy breaths mingling in the small space between you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” you remarked. 

With his forehead touching yours, Ron grinned at you and said, “Y/n, that was bloody brilliant.”

End

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed :3 Please feel free to send imagine requests to my ask, and if you liked this please lmk by liking/reblogging/following (it’s super encouraging!)

[filmwuju]

[TRANS] Character Introduction: Lee Yeonghwa

- released by writer Park Shihyun on Run On’s DC gallery board -

Lee Yeonghwa (Male, 24) / Art Major Student

He hated hearing the word "genius" since he was young. Not because he's modest, but because it sounded like a curse. This was a trauma about misfortune, which he got from the biographies and biographical dictionaries he knows so well due to his big interest in people. From historical and other perspectives, most outstanding geniuses spend their lives in mental illness or psychiatric hospitals. Adolf Wölfli drew more than 20,000 pieces of his work in a psychiatric hospital and ended his days there. The growth and ending of all the geniuses Yeonghwa likes were like that. He thought, oh no. Am I a great artist good enough to be written into biographies of great men? There's an extremely far distance between them and me. Since he quickly learned his place, he was able to do arts with no pressure. Maintaining the distance was Yeonghwa's homework for life. He can't see if he's too far, thus unable to draw; and when he's too near, his vision gets blocked entirely.

Of course Yeonghwa wasn't a genius. Exceptional talents from all over the country gathered in the university, and Yeonghwa was considered ordinary among them. Ordinary meant moderateness, and he knew from early on how difficult it is to be moderate. It was a satisfying university life. Like a pet phrase, his bestfriend Yejoon always said that he's an over-affectionate gullible idiot*, but he knew deep inside that Yeonghwa isn't someone whom people can take advantage of.

People who are good at pretending to be nice gain benefits. People who are genuinely nice live their lives suffering losses. As for Yeonghwa, benefits naturally came to him even if he lives his life just being himself. Smiling is his custom and being friendly is his habit.**. A senior who's like oxygen, who sweats charms instead of sweat in summer; it's only a matter of time before he became the "pocari sweat" of the school of arts. And since he's affectionate only with words, it also took no time for him to become the affectionate trash. Sigh.. the life of a popular man.

Not sure if it's because his name is destiny, or because he followed his name, but Yeonghwa liked movies. Actually, most people in Korea likes movies. How many movies were there in this narrow territory, that were seen by ten million viewers? Being fond of drawing, carrying his sketchbook and thoughtless wandering out to the streets was part of daily life. When it's raining, he put on a movie in his studio and drew. And when dozens of sketchbooks filled with movie scenes piled up, he suddenly wanted to do the opposite. The path he had in his heart wavered when he thought that it would be nice if his drawings turn into videos, but not doing pure fine arts was an unorthodoxy and breakaway from his major. He's just not a genius, it's not that he didn't want to be an artist. He was at that age of having many dreams. Still, he covered them deep in the canvas with paint. Like the drawing that hid in the hat a boa constrictor digesting an elephant.

That was when he met a woman. The ill-tempered woman who laughs at weird times smudged his painting on their first meeting, and asked him to paint a painting on their second meeting. She instantly discovered the hidden drawing, and said she likes that boa constrictor. That basically meant she likes Yeonghwa's desires. His heart wavered again. From that day on, Lee Yeonghwa's desire became Seo Dan-ah. Which is why he couldn't draw well. Because no matter what kind of painting he hides them in, no matter how hard he hides them, his feelings might be discovered.

The woman—who has a lot of money, years of age, and work—owns a lot of things, so she declines to have something more. Just giving the painting is enough so keep your heart, she said. Only adults can make their hearts act the way they want it to. It was an impossible order for a youth in its prime.

Inevitably, in order for us to meet, she has to come down, or I have to go up. The top of the expensive building—a building which he doesn't know who is in, and what they're doing. Seo Dan-ah, who remains there by herself and looks down, was just like Rapunzel who's confined in a tall tower unable to come down. Never mind recognizing the face of Lee Yeonghwa, who's looking at that place high up— his face appears smaller than a dot. It's been a long time since he broke the rule of maintaining the distance, which he gave to himself.

He wanted to see her closer***. So close, even if his vision gets blocked entirely.

T/N: *To give a more in-depth explanation of Yejoon's description of Yeonghwa, "다정도 병인 호구": The first part of the phrase, 다정도 병인 is from ancient Korean poem "Pear Blossoms and Nightingale" by Yi Jo-Nyun. The stanza where the phrase came from is interpreted as "I, who is passionate/sentimental/affectionate, cannot sleep the whole night long as if I'm ill." 다정도 병인 takes up the "passionate/sentimental/affectionate as if ill" part. The second part of Yejoon's pet phrase, 호구, is a slang that is used to call someone stupid, in a way that they get easily deceived or used by other people. If I try to sum everything up into one phrase, it means something like "a gullible idiot who's affectionate to the point like he's ill."

** "Smiling is his custom and being friendly is his habit." This is same as what Yeonghwa told Dan-ah when she asked him why he's smiling during their meeting at the swimming pool: "Because smiling is my custom and being friendly is my habit." The use of "custom" and "habit" may be confusing; actually, the two different Korean words used here usually are translated as "habit." I used "custom" to distinguish between the two just like how it was distinguished in the original text, but I just want to explain a bit more. The first "habit" used along with his smiling is 습관. This usually refers to a habit, a pattern someone formed from doing it everyday. For example, the daily habit of drinking a glass of water after I wake up, the habit of exercising 30 minutes everyday. This term is neutral, it can be used with both positive and negative habits. On the other hand, the second "habit" used along with him being friendly is 버릇.  Habits that are tagged under this one aren't necessarily everyday occurrences. For example, habit of biting my nails, habit of picking my nose in the public. This term is generally used to refer to bad habits. It is also the term used in "drinking habits" and "sleeping habits."

*** There are some implications in this sentence that are difficult (at least for my English level) to express. When it said he "wanted" to see her closer, it's not just simple wanting. There's this implication that he wanted—either compared to how he had no intentions of wanting before, or more than how he wanted before—to see her closer. There is a change in his state, or perhaps degree of wanting? Also, just to be specific, it was written that he wanted to see her closer than "now", closer than the distance of closeness that they have at the moment.

(orig post link)

[moccahobi]

The Slope Bunny [Taehyung x Reader]

Summary: You’re staying at a ski resort and meet an interesting slope bunny.

genre: slope bunny au, skier au, fluff

wc: 2.3k

warnings: none

ratings: E for everyone

a/n: this is my @castlebangtan​ secret santa gift for @tatastaetae​! I hope you like my trash lolol. But fr. I hope you have such a happy hannuka and a great December/January. I love you and appreciate you so much and am so glad to be in a net with you.

a/n2: I posted this yesterday but it isn’t showing up in tags! Here is hoping a repost will help it show up!

Crisp air whipped passed you as you zoomed down yet another slope, eyes slowly taking in your surroundings. Excitement and freedom swam in your veins as you quickly maneuvered around moguls, your poles helping to make the process 1000x easier. Occasionally you even tried your hand at jumping over moguls (mostly if you didn't have enough time to maneuver around them). Despite the below freezing temperatures, there was a thin layer of sweat covering you and soaking into your clothes. Not that it mattered. There was rarely a moment when you weren't warm while skiing.

At a small rest in the slope, you stopped and looked around as you caught your breath. You only had two hundred to three hundred more meters left in the run. All around you were frosty trees and zooming skiers and boarders, some of whom were even weaving in between the trees on small paths made from constant use. It was a magical place and a magical time when many people had retreated to eat lunch.

With a happy smile (hidden behind a neck scarf) and a shiver of excitement, you were off again, determined to make the last stretch be amazing. All too soon, you saw the end of the slope coming closer and closer, a small line already forming in front of the chair lift.

Swiftly, you slid into the singles line, passing at least two four person groups. It only took a minute before you, a pair, and another single were grouped together and made it on to a chair lift, your poles tightly held in your hands and your feet dangling in the air.

You were on number 75.

"So... are you all enjoying the slopes today?" A snowboarder asked, their voice muffled by the balaklava they were wearing.

"Oh totally! This is our first time coming here." One of the people in the pair said excitedly as they looked around, "And the weather is absolutely perfect for skiing and boarding."

"For sure. This is the fourth time I've come to this resort. My favorite slope of all is the Flume. It's on the other side of the mountain." The boarder said, one of the people in the pair nodding excitedly.

"Oh! We were on the Flume this morning! It was fun! Do you have any recommendations?"

"Hmmm... I really enjoy the slopes on the western side of the mountain. It's best to go in the morning though. The slopes get ugly in the afternoon."

"Oh! Thank you!"

After that the chair lift was quiet.  You were fine with that, instead spending the ride watching skiers and boarders zoom down the slopes below, many of whom were reenergized after their lunch break. At the thought of lunch, you felt your stomach growl. Despite you always making the choice to stay out until the lunch rush starts to break, it always shocks you just how hungry you get when it is time to go in.

Soon enough, you were preparing to get off the lift, adjusting your position on the seat and making sure your skis and poles were in the right position. You left the lift without saying goodbye to those you rode it with, knowing that you'd likely never see them again (or recognize them if you did meet them again), and started to skate your way towards the end of the snow.

Even as you made your way back to the hotel room you shared with your friend, Lillia, and hung up your wet snow clothes in front of a small fire, your mind was on the slopes, running through your next plan. Would you want to start with some scenic greens or go straight into blacks?

Would you even want to go back out after lunch? Or would you want to stay in and then go out for night skiing later when it got darker?

There were so many options and you felt somewhat torn with what to do.

Eventually you stopped running through the possibilities when you finished making a large pot of mac and cheese (one of your go-to meals when on a ski trip). You didn't even bother putting it into a bowl, simply taking the pot and a hot plate and situating yourself in front of the television to watch some random show while you ate.

Soreness from a fall you took earlier that day started to settle on you by the time you finished the pot of mac and cheese and a bottle of gatorade, Lillia coming in to nap at one point. Falls weren't uncommon. Especially as you tried to make jumps and took random paths in the woods so you were a little surprised to feel the soreness from a particularly bad fall earlier.

You hummed in thought as you started to clean up some of your dishes. The hotel you were staying in had a hot tub. Maybe instead of going out for more skiing while it's still bright out, you can relax in the hot tub, warm your body up and soothe the soreness you were feeling. Plus, it would likely be empty at this time since everyone would be out on the slopes.

Quickly writing a letter to Lillia who was still dead asleep and would likely cuss you out before falling asleep (only to not remember) if you tried to wake her up to tell, you changed and went off to the hot tub, excitement running through your veins as you did.

You quickly walked to the "spa" room (which was just a room with some lockers, a treadmill, and a bathroom that had a door to the hot tub). When you got there though, you felt a bit of disappointment. Someone else was in the hot tub. Someone else was in the hot tub. Some good looking korean dude was just chilling in the hot tub, his eyes slowly looking around and his mind somewhere else as he relaxed.

All too soon, his eyes landed on you, a small smile growing on his face as he waved you over. It felt strange to walk over to him and get into the hot tub, your mind questioning why he was being so friendly and also stuttering over how good the man looked up close. You blushed self consciously as you slowly got into the water, the man’s eyes moving to look elsewhere as he thought.

“So… are you a fellow slope bunny?” The man asked after a minute or so of silence, his voice surprisingly deep and smooth.

You laughed awkwardly and smiled, “No. I ski. Who did you come here with? A significant other?”

“No. I am here with my friends. They all board or ski and I don’t. I wanted to come though because we rarely see each other normally.”

You nodded slowly, “I get that. My friend and I are here but we are such different skiers that we don’t often ski together. So we really only are getting together again after we are both done for the day.”

After a little bit of silence, the two of you found a solid rhythm full of conversation fragments and having time to think on your own. It was nice and in the conversation fragments that you did have, you found yourself hanging onto every word that the man said. Before you realized, the sun had set and you needed to get back to your hotel room.

You sighed and entered the one resort's restaurants. It was a simple grill and all you wanted after a whole day of skiing was a little food and a warm drink before retiring for the night and sleeping for twelve hours. Your friend had gone to the hotel room an hour before you so once again, you were all alone. You sat down at the bar, next to a familiar looking stranger who was quietly sipping on some hot coco as someone next to her talked excitedly. Quickly you looked over at them before realizing, it was your friend. She was in a large yellow sweater, her makeup done wildly and her hair unkempt from being in a helmet all day.

"Lillia! Crazy seeing you here!"

She laughed and smiled with a nod, "I got a little stir crazy in the hotel room so here I am!" She looked over at the person next to her, "Taehyung and I were just talking about animals!"

"Hello!" Taehyung said in a deep voice.

Wait.

You recognized him! He was the dude in the hot tub!

"Oh! Hello again! I am Y/n! How do you two know each other?"

"We don't." Lillia laughed, "Taehyung complimented my makeup and then we just started talking."

"Yeah! What's your favorite animal? Wait! Let me guess... hmmm," Taehyung's face twisted as he thought and you laughed quietly, ordering a hot green tea from the person behind the bar.

"I know what this is, Taehyung. So I'm not going to help you." Lillia laughed and leaned back in her high chair, happily looking between you and Taehyung who was now pouting.

"Well that's good! I don't want to cheat with this! I get the feeling that... hmm... your favorite animal is a Gopher."

You laughed loudly at that and shook your head, "Pig. Has been most of my life. Why did you think gopher?"

Taehyung blushed, "You're cute like a gopher."

Lillia snorted and hid a laugh with a sip of her hot coco as she looked at you (who was blushing like crazy). At that time, your green tea came and you quickly took a sip, wincing as the hot liquid burned your tongue.

"You are cute." Lillia sang and winked your way, downing the rest of her hot coco and signaling for a check.

You blushed more, somewhat tired of your friend's flirty nature.

"Very."

Gosh! At this point, you were as red as a tomato!

You coughed, "I don't know about that. Taehyung... what is your favorite animal?"

"A squirrel! I just love how cute they are! And have you ever tried to chase them? They are so fun to chase... or watch really! I have this bird feeder that prevents squirrels from eating the seed and I love watching them try tirelessly to eat the seed! Even when I have a soot block for them to eat from as well." Taehyung laughed happily, his eyes glowing as he started to gush about the bird feeders in front of his apartment window.  

The conversation lasted for a long while, the topics occasionally changing but the energy and amiableness never changing. Even when Lillia left and you went onto your third cup of tea (along with an appetizer to eat) and Taehyung started to drink his fourth cup of hot cocoa. You'd had this fun with few strangers before and by the time the bar was calling last call and you'd had five cups of tea and Taehyung six cups of hot cocoa, you were leaving the bar with a blushing face and Taehyung's hand held tightly in yours. From a mixture of the cold and poor flirting, the two of your faces were bright read but you were more excited than ever.

In the stairwell on the platform that opened up to your floor (which apparently was below his) the two of you were standing like two excited idiots, neither wanting to leave first.

"I really enjoyed talking with you today..." You started, looking down at your entwined hands, your face heating up more.

"Yeah."

"Can I have your number?"

Taehyung giggled excitedly and nodded and gave you his phone. Even after you texted yourself through his phone, you didn't leave. You simply looked up at Taehyung and his handsome face, a giddy excitement filling you as you did so.

"Yeah!" Lillia's voice cut through the giddy trance both Taehyung and you were in as she excitedly broke into the stairwell, "I've been waiting for three hours, Y/n! We need to talk!"

Taehyung quickly glanced at Lillia before looking back at you, "Well..."

"Well..."

"I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah."

"Omg. You are both such love sick babies!" Lillia cried, roughly grabbing your arm and pulling you along to your hotel room.

"So... what happened, Y/n?"

"Omg. I am not doing this with you." You groaned and fell face first on the couch, hiding your face in the cushions to hide from Lillia's barrage of excited questions.

After Lillia became too exhausted to continue asking questions and retired to her bed for the night, you found yourself texting Taehyung. Hushed giggles and large paragraphs of texts filled your night and it all surmounted when Taehyung asked you out for breakfast in his hotel room the next morning. It wasn't hard to say yes, even with the knowledge that Lillia was going to make fun of you skipping first tracks tomorrow for breakfast with a guy you just met a few days ago.

Sure enough, after Lillia squealed and jumped around excitedly about your date, she started teasing you to no end. Her eyes excited as she threw joke after joke. She missed first tracks herself to help you prepare and before you knew it, she was rushing you out of the hotel room to go meet Taehyung in the stairway.

"Hi." You said quietly when you saw him, too struck by how handsome he looked in that moment to say more.

"Hello."

[drabblesofrapture]

The Empress’s Pawn (Superhero AU)

Hey kiddos, been awhile since we’ve posted. Anyway have yet another scene from our superhero au lol. -Mod Dusty

CW: prison setting, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, manipulation, betrayal

The hallway seemed to stretch out infinitely before Roxanne. From above her came the constant buzz from the harshly glowing lights, a sound that invaded each thought that raced through her mind. Off-white brick walls stared down at her from either side, occasionally interrupted by doors or another hallway branching off from this one. The numerous branching paths made the whole place seem like a maze; a design choice intentionally made to confuse any possible intruders or escapees, making it easy for them to become lost and later captured by the guard patrol. While Jeff’s facility overall was very impressive, the prison block where Roxanne now found herself in had to be her least favorite place within its walls.

The thud of her boots echoed loudly down the corridor as she walked, her cape billowing behind her. One arm clutched a folder full of documents tightly to her chest while the other was raised to her face to wipe a bit of sweat away from around the edges of her mask. It felt rather silly to have to wear her suit around the facility, especially when it caused her inconveniences; such as her cape becoming caught in doors or getting snagged on various things. In hindsight, maybe the cape wasn’t a great idea for her new hero persona. Wardrobe malfunctions aside, bearing with it was far better than risking the exposure of her identity. 

She kept her pace quick, her footsteps keeping a steady beat. Her gaze was locked dead ahead of her, not even giving a second glance to the few guards and staff members whom she passed along the way. Their waves and friendly greetings went unexpectedly unanswered, leading to many raised eyebrows and double takes. She stopped for nothing. Two guards stood in the middle of the hallway casually talking to each other and she briskly stepped around them without missing a beat. No hellos, no wishing anyone a wonderful day, she just kept walking. She had places to be today.

After a series of twists and turns down the labyrinthine complex of corridors and a lengthy security checkpoint, Roxanne eventually came before a huge steel door with a sign above it which read “MAXIMUM SECURITY CELL BLOCK.” On either side of the door were guards carrying heavy assault rifles and dressed in high-tech suits of armor; armor modeled directly after the former Hero Killer’s suit. They both snapped to attention as she approached, most likely former henchmen of her father. She simply held up a hand to put them at ease and pulled out her keycard to insert in the reader on the door’s right side. A pneumatic hiss emitted from the door as it suddenly lurched open an inch before slowly sliding the rest of the way open. She waited for the door to open completely and for the guards to give her the go-ahead before she finally stepped through. 

The cell block was a long hall with a high, arched ceiling. The walls were lined with -you guessed it- cells! In lieu of the traditional metal bars, the cell doors were made of reinforced plexiglass, allowing the villains imprisoned within to be fully visible to the guards. Many of the prisoners leered at Roxanne as she passed, getting right up against the glass and making obscene gestures at her and shouting their usual empty threats. 

Like everyone else, she completely ignored them. Occasionally she’d shoot them the cold glare her father had taught her -that would usually shut them up immediately- but not today. She kept walking until she reached the end of the hall where she came before another large steel door. This door was much bigger and thicker than the first door, resembling that of a vault door. Six guards stood in front of this door, all wearing the same high tech armor as the guards at the entrance to the cell block. However, these guards had been outfitted with advanced rifles specially designed for super powered individuals, all sporting the trademark Collinsworth logo. As Roxanne approached, all six guards moved to block her path.

The first guard held out his hand towards her. “You’re not authorized past this point, Ms. Witch.”

“Dude, it’s Mrs. Witch now!” another guard corrected. “Didn’t you know she got married to that Angel guy recently?”

“Gary, what have I said about your mouth and keeping it shut?” The first guard scolded, turning around to shoot what Roxanne assumed to be a scathing look at his comrade. She couldn’t really tell because of the helmets.

Gary cast his gaze at the floor and let his arms hang dejectedly at his sides. The guard next to him patted his shoulder consolingly.

“Like I said, you can’t be here.”

Roxanne stared indifferently at him as she fished around in the folder she was holding. With a flourish, she pulled a document out of it and presented it to the guard standing before her. “I am here to interrogate the prisoner on authorization of my father, the King.” she stated in a professional tone.

The guard snatched the document away from her. He clicked the visor on his helmet open so he could scrutinize the document more clearly, eyes landing on the King’s forged signature at the bottom.

“Alright,” he said, closing his visor and handing the document back to Roxanne. “It checks out, head on in. Just be careful in there kid.”

The guard motioned to the guard closest to the door who proceeded to input a code on the keypad next to it. A red light above the door began to flash and there was a loud buzz, followed by the sound of metal sliding against metal as several huge locks were unlocked. The latch was undone next, and the door slowly slid open in a dramatic fashion. Roxanne waited until the door was fully open before going in, but even then she found herself hesitating. Her hands tightened into fists, crushing the cardboard folder underneath her fingertips. Mustering her courage, she took a deep breath and marched through the doorway. Once she was in, she tried not to jump when she heard the door slam shut behind her and all the locks clicked back into place. She was alone now.

The room was essentially a concrete cube, where in the center stood another cube made of glass tinted so heavily that it could not be seen through. There were cameras in every corner of the room, all pointed at the glass cube in the center. The cube had a control console on the side facing the door. Steeling herself with another deep breath, Roxanne strode toward the console, setting the crumpled folder on the dash. She pressed a button on the console which caused the tint of the glass to lighten until it was once again transparent. The glass cube was actually another cell. Inside was a cot, a toilet, a sink complete with a vanity, a small desk with a chair, and a bookshelf. A tall, slim woman sat hunched over on the cot, her face obscured by her long, blonde hair, now matted and ratty by weeks of improper care. Pale blue eyes stared up at Roxanne through tangled strands. Chapped lips pulled back into a sinisterly sweet smile.

“Hello darling,” she cooed. “Come to pay your dear old auntie a visit?”

“Adelaide,” Roxanne said bluntly. “You’re looking well.”

Adelaide just hummed, clutching a split end between her thumb and forefinger and holding it up to eye level before letting it fall limply across her chest. “I’ve looked better. The conditions of this place are absolutely dreadful.”

“Not up to your ostentatiously high standards, hm?” Roxanne asked, tilting her head to the side.

“No, not at all,” Adelaide replied, scowling at the hero. She suddenly stood up from her cot and strode over to the vanity at the end of her cell, studying the reflection of herself and Roxanne in the mirror. “My offer is still open, you know. If you can break me out of this place, that is.”

“Oh? You mean the offer to sell my life away to you as your servant for eternity?”

“Oh darling, must you always think so little of me,” Adelaide sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She turned around and began walking to the window. “The offer to rule Rapture by my side.” Her smile widened and she clenched her fist, shaking it as she spoke. “I’ve taught you so well that the two of us working together would be unstoppable! Think of what you could do with that power! Your friends have made powerful enemies, you could make sure those malefactors never harm them ever again.”

Roxanne was silent for a moment. Adelaide’s smug grin strengthened as she saw the gears turning in the girl’s head. However, a smile began to spread across Roxanne’s face and she raised a hand to her mouth as she started giggling. She soon lost control and was doubled over laughing, both arms holding her stomach as she struggled to regain composure. Adelaide’s nostrils flared as the sneer dropped from her face, her eye twitching slightly at the pure disrespect being thrown at her. 

“You must be joking auntie!” Roxanne managed to squeak out as she wiped a tear from her eye, a couple more giggles escaping her lips. “I remember how inspired I used to get whenever you gave me those grand speeches. Pandering to all my hopes and dreams, manipulating me. It’s quite amusing how easily I used to fall for that.”

“I haven’t the slightest clue of what you mean darling,” Adelaide said, feigning ignorance.

“Sure.” Roxanne turned away from her, crossing her arms and peering at her from over her shoulder. “That’s all you do: manipulate others.You promise them fantastic things so long as they can do something for you, and once their purpose has been used up, you cast them aside.” She turned her back on her completely now. “There’s not a single person in your life that you haven’t done it to. The heroes you face, your henchmen, father-” she threw a piercing gaze at Adelaide “-even me.” 

“Well…” Adelaide paused for a moment, raising a hand to her chin. She let out a short sigh. “Yes, I have manipulated others. How else do you think all my henchmen have remained so loyal to me?”

“Well, most of them,” Roxanne interrupted with a smirk.

Her eyes narrowed. “Yes, most of them.”

“The point is,” Adelaide continued, “manipulation is the only way I’ve managed to survive all these years by myself. It’s the only way you can get anywhere in this ugly world; someone very close to me taught me that a long time ago.” She moved closer to the glass, gently pressing her hand against it. Her other hand brushed the hair away from her face to show Roxanne her caring expression. “But I would never do such an awful thing to you.”

Roxanne raised an eyebrow at her, turning again so that she was once again facing her. “I have only ever wanted to protect you from all the cruelness that runs rampant in the world. I took you under my wing, I taught you how to control your powers and furthermore how to use them. I taught you everything I know so that the things that happened to me will never happen to you.” Their eyes locked. “Do you know why I did all that, darling? Do you know why I want to protect you?”

The girl moved closer to the glass as well. “Why?”

“Because we’re the same,” Adelaide said, smiling sweetly at her. “Both of us were betrayed by someone close to us and then abandoned. Your own mother left you to waste away in that orphanage, much like how my husband left me to rot in a ditch.” She tilted her head. “I’ve always loved you Roxanne, you’re like a daughter to me.”

There was a long pause between the two. Roxanne stood there, her expression unreadable for a moment. Slowly, she raised her hand to the glass, placing it exactly where Adelaide’s was. There was a lump in her throat, and her lip began to tremble as her eyes started to well up with tears. Her whole arm tensed like she was struggling to hold herself up. Adelaide had to hide her smugness as she watched the poor girl melt like putty in her hands.

“Is that so?” Roxanne seethed, her brow furrowing. She pushed herself away from the glass, taking a step back from the cell. She breathed in, swallowing the lump in her throat. She tilted her head down and gave Adelaide a furious, yet determined glare. “Is that why you threatened to kill me if my father did not comply with your wishes? Is that what you call love?”

Adelaide looked as if she had just been struck in the face. Her eyes wide and her mouth agape as her hand limply fell away from the glass. She took a step back in shock. “I-”

“That’s right, father told me all about your little game,” she said. “You probably used me as leverage against Angel as well, hm?”

“Darling-”

“You never really cared about me, did you auntie?” she continued, cutting her off. She had waited so long for this moment; all the anger, all the hurt, all the betrayal coming to a boiling point inside of her. She wouldn’t let herself be interrupted now, she would get this out in the open right now. “You didn’t teach me how to hone my powers so that I could protect myself, you just wanted to weaponize me. You thought that since we have the same powers, then we’d have the same weaknesses as well; weaknesses that you planned to exploit should the need arise.” Her shoulders started to relax, focusing all the anger in her body into her voice, making every word drip with venom. “That’s not love. You never loved me.” She crossed her arms, glaring straight into the villain’s soul. “All these years, I was just another pawn to you, is that right?”

Adelaide’s jaw was practically touching the floor now. Her already pale skin seemed to become whiter still and she took another step back. She brought her hand to her mouth to close it and kept it there for a beat. She closed her eyes, and her countenance suddenly began to change. A smile grew across her face as a malicious laugh began to rise up from her chest. Her eyes shot back up to Roxanne, fixing her with an icy stare. 

“Oh darling… of course you were.” The facade was gone now, her true evil beginning to shine forth. She strode back to the glass window, hips swaying from side to side. “Of course you were!” she laughed. “You really thought I ever gave a damn about an insignificant little mortal cur like you? You were always a means to an end for me.” She tapped a finger against her cheek. “Although, originally the plan was for you to help me take over Rapture. Unfortunately, that idiot Malcolm had to get involved so I had to change the plan; change your purpose.”

Roxanne was completely taken aback. She had already found out that these had been Adelaide’s true intentions, she just didn’t think that she would be so upfront about it. Perhaps there was even a part of her that wanted to still believe that Adelaide truly cared for her, that even treating her as a tool was just another facade.

“I’d say that I’m surprised that it took you this long to find out, but I’m not really. You always were a naive little girl,” Adelaide scoffed, placing her hands on her hips and shifting her weight into one leg. “No matter how hard I tried, I never could train the stupidity out of you.”

The girl flinched as Adelaide threw her head back, letting loose another maniacal laugh. “Honestly, you’re almost as dumb as that little devil girl! All your moronic blabbering over the years, rambling about how you and your ‘daddy’ are going to change the world! And now you run around with your little boy-toy playing hero like a couple of children!”

“He is not my boy-toy,” Roxanne snapped.

Another laugh. “Oh that’s right! He’s your husband now, isn’t he? Honestly darling, you could do so much better.” She chuckled, waving a hand at Roxanne as she started walking the perimeter of the cell. “At least he’s smarter than you, he knew better than to meddle in my affairs.”

She finished her lap of the cell while Roxanne sat in stunned silence, finally coming to a stop in front of her once more. “That’s all besides the point though. You’ll never be able to change the world, no matter who you pair yourself with and especially not by yourself. You’re not a hero, you’re nothing.”

Roxanne could’ve sworn that her heart stopped beating. She couldn’t feel it, she couldn’t feel anything right now. Her body just felt hollow, like her heart had just been completely scooped out and stomped on. 

“You betrayed me,” she said softly, trying to keep her voice from shaking.”

“Betrayed you?!” Adelaide guffawed. “Darling, betrayal only works if it’s by someone you love.”

“...I did love you,” Roxanne sniffed, looking down at the cold, concrete floor. “Or at least I thought I did, and I thought you did too…”

“That was your own mistake,” Adelaide snorted derisively. She crossed her arms behind her back and began to pace. “You want to know what I always hated most about you?”

The lump was back, throbbing up inside Roxanne’s throat.

“The way you insisted on calling me auntie,” She shivered, her face scrunching up in disgust. “That always made my skin crawl. And to think that I even said you were like a daughter to me just a couple minutes ago.” Her index finger stuck out to point at her open mouth as she mocked a gagging noise. “It was so difficult to make that sound convincing. You’re just so desperate for a family, aren’t you? I suppose it makes sense, a little runt like you being abandoned at birth.”

She couldn’t swallow the lump, it was too big. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. Hold it in, she had to hold it in.

  “That’s why you cling to Malcolm so tightly, calling him ‘daddy’ and father. Well let me tell you something.” She walked over to the glass wall again, pressing her body against it. “I am not your auntie, and Malcolm is not your father; he never was, and he never will be.”

She bit down harder. Her lip was bleeding now. Don’t cry, please don’t cry. Not now, not in front of her. Please-

“You’re more of a pet to him really,” Adelaide went on. “A pet to him and a tool to me. That’s all you’ve ever been. And now I assume you’ll continue your sick little found family fantasy with that boy-toy of yours too, hm?” A vicious sneer was painted on her face as she watched the little girl trembling before her slowly break down.

Roxane sniffed a couple times, letting out a long, shaky exhale.

“Awww, did I hurt your feelings, darling,” she purred maliciously.

“No,” she replied after a long pause. It was a lie, but she wasn’t going to let Adelaide have the last laugh in this. “I’m just sad that you’ve become such a bitter old woman.”

Immediately, her countenance became twisted with rage. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” Roxanne said, managing to fake a soft, derisive laugh. “You never got your happily ever after. You thought you were at the top of the world, that you could rule everything, but now the mighty Empress has been defeated.” She forced a cocky grin. “You had a husband, a family, but you lost it all. You’re mad that I have everything that you never had.” She took a few steps towards the cell, leaning in to make eye contact with the now infuriated villain. “He left you to rot in a ditch, and now I -the only person who has ever cared for you- will leave you to rot in this cell.”

Adelaide’s brow furrowed, pale blue eyes flaring with rage. “You little-”

“I’ve come up with a new name for you too, something far better than auntie,” she added. “I quite like the ring of ‘miserable old hag,’ don’t you?” She let out a small giggle. “Goodbye, darling.”

Adelaide opened her mouth to scream at Roxanne, but she quickly slapped the button on the console to shut the intercom off. She then quickly slammed her fist on the other button, causing the glass to darken until Adelaide was no longer visible through it. She was alone again, alone in this big, empty room.

She stood there for a few moments, hand still resting on the console. The taste of blood coming from her lip finally hit her, causing her to slowly raise a hand to her mouth to wipe it away. Adelaide’s words came back to her, echoing loudly in her mind, invading every corner of her head. It pounded in her ears until she couldn’t take it. The lump came back once more and she tried to bite her lip again to hold it back but quickly had to let go, wincing from the pain. There was no holding it back now. Despair spread to every space in her body, filling her with a cold and empty feeling. It sapped her strength completely, causing her to double over and her legs to buckle underneath the weight of her body and sorrow. She fell to her knees as heavy, violent sobs wracked her frame. Tears streamed freely down her face like rivers, smearing the eyeshadow she used to fill in the empty spaces between her eyes and mask. She buried her face in her hands as she tried in vain to muffled her wails. Her body leaned against the console, trying to keep herself from falling to the floor. 

She was so lost in her own sorrow that she didn’t even notice when the door opened behind her so that the guards could check on them. Their inquiries on what had happened didn’t even register in her mind. She barely even recognized Malcolm and Johnathan when they eventually arrived to escort her from the cell, continuing to cry the entire way. 

[katcadecascade]

Road to Home (RWBY fic)

Summery: Rhodes reaches the Glass Unicorn at 11:40pm because someone asked him, “So who’s at home for you?”

Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Volume 8 Chapter 6

aka my take on Cinder’s backstory AU

-

“So who’s back home for you?”

Rhodes kind of hates his name. It’s almost like cruel irony or a bland destiny to always be traveling, constantly on the move, and never staying too long in one place.

“No one. I don’t really have a place to return too.”

He believed that’s just how his life is as a hunter of Grimm. It feels like he’s always taking one mission after the next, a pattern that takes him across the kingdoms. All alone, it’s easier that way, efficient Rhodes believes.

It’s a cold truth he concluded on after his team parted. Talk about a crossroads.

“Hmm.”

Yet every once in a while there’s a hunt that demands many hunters. An abnormally large nest of Nevermores in Vale. If he had the option, Rhodes wouldn’t have joined. The path he wanted to take is the one that’ll take him back to Atlas, all the way back to Cinder.

She’s a tough kid in a not so good situation. That’s all Rhodes can really say on the matter, what with the loose child labor laws and the old reputation that keeps that hotel running. Look, Rhodes ain’t the man for critiquing ethics and socialism, especially Atlas and Mantle of all places.

Still though, he did what he thought was best for Cinder. Train her in secret, visit monthly if possible, and not take her with him. The life of an active huntsman who’s constantly traveling is not ideal for a kid to tag along. At least in the Glass Unicorn, Cinder is under a roof and away from the Grimm.

Or at least that’s what Rhodes keeps telling himself.

Each day he’s away from the girl, he tries to come up with another reason as to why he should not just up and take Cinder with him. For obvious reasons, it’s kidnapping. Then there’s the whole issue of his entire life is not child friendly.

No home for Cinder to be warm in. No extended family that can keep an eye on her when he’s away. No teammates…

And yet last month's visit, there was hesitation on his tongue, wanting to ask if she wanted to accompany him. It’s an outrageous idea, tactless and unreasonable. Training her for the academy entrance exams is the smarter play, a long one but way smarter than just thrusting Cinder onto the road with him of all people.

Rhodes is not the most upstanding role model to look up to, no less having to travel with. Imagine his surprise when a kid looks at him with starry, wide eyes. He doesn’t deserve any of that, not sure if he ever will, yet he kept training her. He kept returning to Atlas for Cinder.

“What’s that humming supposed to mean?”

There’s not many people for Rhodes to return to, even less if anyone ever wanted him in the first place. Cinder is the exception though, his mind excuses. She doesn’t know the mistakes he made, the suffering or aftermath.

In due time, the academy would give her a better life, not him. Just gotta stay in this waiting game, for Cinder’s sake.

“It means that I think you’re lying.”

That’s a long road he’s forcing Cinder to walk. For the longest time, Rhodes believed that was the only course of action for Cinder when really it’s just the path of least resistance. All because he is a coward stuck in the crossroads.

“...Fine. There’s this kid I look out for, that’s all.”

All the excuses he accumulated began the moment he saw Cinder in that dusty storage room. Of course she’s miserable and of course he pities her. Rhodes wasn’t the strategist of his former team, nor was he the heart. He was just the tank, master of waiting for the perfect moment, and the one who ends up walking a long road all alone.

It’s stupid of him to think Cinder should endure it all alone. It’s collassily ignorant of him to give her attention and leave the next day and think that’s proper teaching. It’s akin to constantly relighting a candle wit. One day there will be nothing left to spark.

“That so? It sounds like you must care a lot about her. She must miss you too.”

It took too long for Rhodes to think that maybe his interference has made Cinder’s life worse. He gave her a direction, a goal to reach the academy, a dream of freedom on the open road. Hope can be a powerful and dangerous thing.

Rhodes knows first hand how devastating it can be when hope ends out. He can outlast a storm, a horde of Grimm, nearly anything but that’s no guarantee for the people around him. This always lingers in his head when he’s out on bigger missions with a group of hunters.

“She’s not mine.”

This particular Nevermore hunt had a few familiar faces for Rhodes, all of whom he’d avoided. Then by luck he was caught by some of the newer graduated hunters, probably with only three or five years of experience. Not the ideal team up but the less he complains the quicker they complete the objective.

If only that white hooded huntress wasn’t so talkative and observant. If only she didn’t dig into his vague words and made him think. If only he had learned all of this months early for Cinder’s sake.

“My boyfriend has a baby girl at home. I might not be her birth mother but I will always see her as my daughter.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

There’s a knowing glint in those silver eyes. “You look like you’re eager to return home.”

Rhodes couldn’t get that line out of his head. Eagerness is a burden on long trips, it’s the annoying sibling to waiting, and it’s the very thing on Cinder’s face whenever Rhodes enters the Glass Unicorn.

Eagerness is in his heart that first night after meeting Cinder. He wanted to return. He wanted to take less missions away. He wanted Cinder to finally leave that place.

Why did he insist on making her wait?

Each and every excuse he came up with nipped and lashed at his ankles on every step he took closer to Atlas. The Grimm hunt was dealt with at a near blinding speed and that huntress said she’ll cover for him on the post-hunt reports that he always hated.

For transportation to Atlas, Rhodes had to suck up his pride and call the only other teammate who’s not dead.

“You wouldn’t ask unless it’s an emergency, Rhodes. An airship will be at the airport in an hour.”

“Thank you Willow, I mean it.”

True to his former teammate’s words, the huntsman was later in a private Schnee jet enroute to Atlas. If he was more reckless he would’ve hand it land right at the Glass Unicorn but attention was the last thing he wanted.

Once on the streets, he was practically retracing his steps all the way back to the hotel. Through the late night streets, up the steps and through the fancy lobby. At the reception desk, perfectly orderly is the woman of the establishment.

Her wrinkle lines move along with her cordially smile, prepared for greeting clients no matter the late hour.

Rhodes never thought of this madame in good graces. Rumor has it that the Glass Unicorn didn’t always have child servants back when the lady’s late husband was in charge. Under new management as the saying goes and the regular clients here didn’t bat an eye when the staff dwindled to one young employee.

It’s hypocrisy that he was a part of the silent crowd and only now does he actually react.

On previous visits, he’d always just booked a room and waited for the lobby to empty to get to Cinder. Right now though, Rhodes doesn’t have the patience to wait any longer.

Once upon a time, he had to brainstorm a myriad of lies to get Cinder out of the hotel. Excuses that range from she’s a missing link in a case or outright threatening to her to hand over Cinder. Well he’s not entirely sure how any of those scenarios would play out but it doesn’t matter in the end.

The mood in the air changes when two blonde girls come running out of the staff door. They’re both frightened out of their perfect composure.  

“Mom, come quick, we found something.”

“It’s Cinder, she has a weapon!”

Their mother glares at her daughters and clicks her tongue once the sisters notice the client present.

“Leave,” she demands lowly, “now.”

The girls scamper off in another direction while the lady smooths down her skirt. One hand lingers inside the pocket.

“Pardon me, Huntsman Rhodes, I have to attend to the matter.”

She takes one step, one loud clack of her heels away from the reception desk and Rhodes knew that this was it. It had to be now or never.

“Wait,” Rhodes didn’t waste his movement, striding past the lady and blocking her path to the door. “It’ll be best if I go.”

Scowling as politely as possible, she argues, “Sir, I assure you that girl is absolutely under my control.”

“You’re awfully confident,” Rhodes snaps. This is taking too much time, who knows what’s Cinder doing right now.

“I am,” she raises her voice, not appreciating his attitude.

It looks like she’s about to lecture him about respect so he cuts her off. “I’m going in there, not you. Got it?”

He’s not sure what kind of expression he’s making. Yes he’s angry and impatient and just wants this whole hotel gone. Something about him must have conveyed his true rage because the madame stands frozen, confusion and fear in her slacken jaw and how she took a step back.

Then he sees how her eyes flicker to something behind him.

On some sort of instinct, she took her hand out of her pocket. Clasped there is a remote with a yellow button, her thumb pressed down.

There’s a scream in his ears, a chilling shock down his spine as he turns around and sees Cinder at the doorway. She dropped the sword he gifted her and has one hand on the frame to support her shaking body as electricity rumbles and bites at her neck.

Rhodes never thought to ask why she had a fancy necklace. He wonder how stupid he is for failing to recognise lightning dust. He’s even more of a failure to be surprised that this is happening.

To add more evidence that Cinder has spent far too long in this hotel, Cinder grits her teeth and lets go of the doorframe. She starts limping over, the shockwaves going up and down her skin. Rhodes watches in horror and perverse awe before he hears a button getting mashed.

He grabs the madame’s wrist, snatching the remote out of her hand in seconds, and crushing it in a steel hand. It’s pathetically small help, clearly everything Rhodes has trained Cinder for was not the help she really needed.

There’s a momentarily delay in the remote’s signal as the shock collar continues. Cinder reaches a shaky hand up and rips the collar off, glaring at the source of all her pain.

“Cinder,” Rhodes interferes with her path but the girl is still glaring at the madame. “Let’s leave right now. You don’t have to stay here any longer.” He knees down to her, desperately wishing that the fire in her eyes won’t burn her up. “I’m sorry it took me this long to get you out.”

She still hasn’t looked at him. Yet at his apology tears start welling up. Cinder marches past him, stalking up to the madame who’s backed up against the frontdesk.

“Without you, I am nothing,” Cinder tells her and her tone sounds odd to the huntsman, like the words are warped around her tongue and teeth.

She thrusts her hand up, still holding the shock collar, and harshly presses it to the madame’s throat. In mere seconds, the metal is superheated in Cinder’s grip and the madame cries out, jerking away and falling sideways on the desk and then falling to the floor.

The madame clasps a hand around her neck but Rhodes saw the burnt skin there, diamond shaped like the collar’s centerpiece.

“But because of you,” Cinder hisses and throws the collar at the madame’s face, “I am everything.”

The girl is a heaving mess, her hands curling up and steaming.

“Cinder,” he calls and the girl’s whole body flinches.

Swirling around, Cinder angrily demands at him, “She deserves so much worse!”

“And you deserve better and you will get it all if we leave right now.” Rhodes begs her, “Please, will you come with me?”

Cinder quietly gasps at his question. Some combination of awe and surprise on her young face as she starts crying more.

He honestly doesn’t know if he can talk her out of murder, revenge realisticly. But if he can just take her away from this place then maybe she’ll choose otherwise. Maybe she’ll always want to kill these people but for right now, he needs to physically get away from these people.

The heat of her semblance dims from her hands as Cinder wipes the tears off her cheeks. She stumbles over to Rhodes and once close he hugs her tight. The girl bawls into his chest and Rhodes wastes no time to securely carry her in one arm.

He remembers to pick up Cinder’s fallen sword as he gets up. The madame on the other hand is still on the floor, trembling and confused but not making any motion to stop them. There’s a frantic wheezing coming from her too.

When she glares at them, Rhodes frowns back. “No one is going to ask about tonight, got it?”

The madame bitterly coughs and manages to croak out, “Leave.”

He lets her have the final word and marches out. Cinder got her breath back and has wide, teary eyes as they approach the doors. She squirms for a bit and he lets her down.

Standing on shaky legs, Cinder pushes open the doors with all her might. The wide swing of the doors shakes the frame but the girl doesn’t care. On her first step out of the hotel, the grandfather clock in the lobby rings twelve.

-

One step outside of the Glass Unicorn and Cinder felt like sobbing, running, and collapsing at the same time. Her hand squeezed tight onto Rhodes’ as she trembled against the midnight air. Its chill is heavenly on her overheated skin, an after effect from the electricity.

It’s all over now. She’s finally free from the madame and her hotel. Cinder just wants to run despite her straining muscles so she leans on Rhodes. He mumbles something about hurrying to the airport, hoping that a plane is still there but Cinder barely comprehends.

She’s actually free and Rhodes had wanted her to leave with him. Each visit, Cinder truly thought that he didn't want her around. The plan was for the academy, where he won’t have to deal with her but instead he actually asked.

Granted Cinder had wished he’d asked like the first night they met. Or maybe years earlier, that would’ve been good too. But here they are. It took her obnoxious step sisters to get too nosey and for Rhodes to finally be there at the right time.

Yet it still feels like Rhodes is late. The madame had one last play with the collar and Cinder wanted to finally end her. She can still feel the buzz in her neck.

Even though they’ve only walked down the street so far, Cinder feels too close and so far away from the Glass Unicorn. She feels like sobbing again.

“Hey, hey,” Rhodes moves his arm to comfortably enwrap her with warmth, “it’s okay now Cinder.”

A sob hitches in her throat and it’s like her semblance is burning her from the inside. Cinder doesn’t think she’s okay right now, she doesn’t believe she’ll ever be okay, but finally walking out of those pristine doors felt so good.

Somewhere in her thoughts, there’s the question on how it would feel like if she actually gave what the madame and her daughters deserved. At the same time, Cinder never wants to enter the Glass Unicorn even if her life depends on it. Which it does not though, she doesn’t ever have to be there again.

She’s finally freed.

That hopeful feeling gets lodged into her throat when suddenly a nice looking car pulls up in front of them. Rhodes holds her close as her heart hammers. Cinder can’t phantom what is going on as the well dressed driver exits and approaches them.

“Mr. Kolossos,” the man nods politely and when he looks at Cinder she flinches but he continues with another nod, “Miss.” He opens the backseat door and waves over, “This way please.”

“I didn’t call for a car,” Rhodes said and walked on, guiding Cinder away from the car.

As they’re passing the open car door, someone from inside scoffs, “Just get in here, Rhodes.”

In the nightlight, it’s hard for Cinder to see inside the car but she sees a feminine figure that matches the voice. Cinder can’t help but shake.

Rhodes on the other hand freezes.

“What are you doing here?”

“Picking you up unless you want to walk all the way to the airbay. The jet’s not there by the way.”

The huntsman huffs quietly but up close Cinder can see his lips barely form a smile. He catches her gaze and he winces. Rhodes pinches the bridge of his nose before whispering to her, “Cinder, I know you’ve been through a lot right now but do you still trust me?”

She doesn’t like the unsureness in his eyes, like she’s the one who will hurt him. Cinder knows there has been nights where she outright hates it when he leaves or his plan to wait seven years in that hotel. But every time he comes back, Cinder can’t help but want to hope that this time, she’ll join him.

And now it’s happening she knows that Rhodes is the only person she can rely on. If she’s on her own, well, she’ll have to be everything she needs. Cinder doesn’t know where that will take her but right now, she wants to stay with Rhodes.

“Yes,” Cinder tells him, squeezing his hand back.

“Thank you,” Rhodes smiles and she doesn’t know how to feel about that. Being thanked and stuff, especially over feelings. He looks back over to the car and huffs, “Fine, we’ll get in.”

Rhodes goes in first, still holding Cinder’s hand and worryingly looks between Cinder and the door closed behind her. Cinder kind of appreciates not being in the middle seat. Feeling trapped in a fancy enclosed position is too soon for her anxiety.

Still though, Cinder peeks behind Rhodes’ bulk to see the lady. The car starts up and when they’re passing under streetlights, Cinder sees white long hair of a woman only seen on TV.

“I never imagined this is what your emergency was about.”

“Well, I didn’t need to tell you Willow,” Rhodes said plainly.

Willow Schnee rolls her eyes and accidentally makes eye contact with Cinder. She presses her lips in a thin line, neither mean or annoyed, simply processing. Eventually she sighs and looks away, “You two need a place for the night. We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay Rhodes and…”

The empty silence has Willow awkwardly glance back to her. Cinder has never seen an elegant lady look awkward before, it’s kind of odd.

“Cinder,” she fills in.

“Cinder,” Willow repeats. “Alright, well,” she sighs again, faces the front, “we’ll be at home soon enough.”

At that word, home , Cinder tenses and relaxes. Any place is better than the hotel. She leans into Rhodes’ side and closes her eyes.

-

Thanks for reading!

[propertyofnikkisthighs]

She’s My Collar pt. 4

Tags: @nowhereiswhereibelong​

I jolt awake in terror clutching my chest and looking around wildly before my eyes adjust to the dark and I remember I’m in my own room. I try to focus on calming my breathing back to a normal level and hold my head in my hands. A thin film of sweat covers my forehead and the cool air against my back is an indicator that is also covered in sweat due to my nightmare. I take a deep breath and contemplate my next move carefully before I think fuck it and decide to throw caution to the wind. I fling the covers off of my body and get up turning my lamp on so I could see properly. I look around for clothing to throw on and find a pair of shorts and one of Tommy’s shirts he had lent me after getting a beer dumped on me by a drunk asshole at a show. I slip my feet into my slippers and make my way over to the boy’s apartment.

The music flows out of the open window near their front door, which is now nailed shut from the cops kicking it down so much. The potent odor of marijuana is also spilling out of the window along with a particularly shit faced girl who runs to the railing and proceeds to spill her guts over it. I hear Tommy before I see him as I crawl through the window into the living room.

“You guys are gonna fucking freak.” I hear Tommy say and I find him just in time to catch his face going between a girl’s legs going to town.

I avert my eyes and make my way around his public show into the kitchen to try to find any of the other boys. I successfully locate Nikki in the kitchen tearing through the cabinets in search of something. He nearly falls into me turning too fast, but luckily catches himself at the last minute.

“Hey Riv!” He yells excitedly messing up my hair. “Have you seen our rubbing alcohol?”

“I don’t live here Nikki.” If he’s looking for rubbing alcohol I know he’s up to no good.

“Come on River don’t be a fucking buzz kill.” He sighs annoyed with my concern for his well being.

“Under the sink.” I roll my eyes and he gets a goofy smile on his face running to get it.

I lean against the wall and watch as Nikki tears into the living room like a bat out of hell. A man laughs, egging Nikki on as he dumps the liquid on his leather jacket clad arm and uses his lighter to cover his arm in flames. The man clearly had never been to one of their shows if this little production had him wowed. Nikki flashes a shit eating grin my way and walks towards the man little fires falling from him singeing the carpet in his wake. The man backs away seeming genuinely scared that Nikki will burn him and I know Nikki will accidentally burn him so I spray his fire with the spray bottle I kept on the fridge to discipline them.

“River what the fuck?” Nikki scoffs at me in disbelief crossing his arms like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“If you light the building on fire the band is fucked out of a living slash rehearsing space.” I say shrugging.

“You know you could at least try being less of a loser.” Nikki grumbles at me and I’m about to fire back for him to shove it when I see Vince adjusting himself in his pants coming out of the bathroom.

“Have fun? Did you enjoy the ride?” I directed him.

“I know she sure did.” Vince laughs giving Nikki a high five. “When did you get here, River? You normally say no to our invites to party with us.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” I shrug.

The moans of the girl Tommy is “performing” on suddenly cut through the noise of all the millions of other things going on in the apartment. I turn to go deeper into the kitchen and look in the fridge for a beer to ignore them. The boys on the other hand go to check out the show. I take a sip of the beer and try not to cringe too much at the taste. I wasn’t a big drinker in general and I especially disliked the taste of beer, but it was the only thing the boys had in their fridge. I squeeze my eyes closed as the grand finale comes to an end in the living room and try to pretend that what was happening in there wasn’t happening. Tommy rounds the corner and catches sight of me, eyes closed squeezing a beer between two hands and stops dead in his tracks. I peek my eyes open and see Tommy stopped in front of me slowly turning a deep red shade all over his face.

“Hey.” I say cracking a smile and he smiles back, but he still looks embarrassed.

“Hey. How long have you been here?” He asks rubbing his neck nervously.

“Long enough.” I take a sip of my beer. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Can I?” He asked motioning to the fridge and I realize I’m blocking the door for him to get into it.

“Oh yeah I’m sorry.” I shuffle to the side and he cracks open his beer and chugs some of his beer leaning on the counter near me.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Just restless. I’m fine.” I lie not wanting to put a damper on his night.

“Want to take a shot with me?” He smiles wildly and I nod my head agreeing. Which was my first mistake that night. My eyelids feel as if they are a million pounds and my head feels like someone wacked me upside it with a brick. I groan and try to pull my covers over my head from the blaring light of the window only to be met with some unseeable force holding them down. That was about the time I noticed that not only was this not my cover, this was not my room at all. I sit up quickly, far too quickly and everything spins around me. I groan again and hold my head in my hands until I regain stability. I hear soft snoring next to me and look over to see Tommy laying on his stomach in just his underwear a small pool of drool next to his mouth. I look down and see I’m only in his shirt and my panties and a panic sets in my bones. Did I fuck Tommy last night?? I need to get to my apartment and quick.

I scan the messy bedroom and locate my shorts and bra discarded on the lamp in the corner and slowly make my way to them so as to not make much noise. I pull my shorts on and try to find my slippers. They seem to have been kicked haphazardly in front of Tommy’s door luckily and I slip into those before tip toeing out of the room. I close the door softly and turn to leave smacking right into Nikki’s chest.

“Well well well look who is doing the walk of shame this morning.” Nikki chuckles and I place a finger over his mouth shushing him.

“Not now Nikki. I have a killer hangover.” I whine in a whisper.

“Here come in the kitchen let a professional teach you how to treat a hangover ya big baby.” He motions for me to follow him and against my better judgement I follow him.

“How do you possibly do this all the time?” The dull thud in my brain is churning my stomach and I’m almost worried I’ll blow chunks right then and there.

“I told you, I’m a professional.” He smirks as he hands me a glass of mystery liquid. I take a drink and choke on the harsh burn of a jack and coke.

“Nikki what the fuck is your problem?!” I cough. “I’m hungover, why would you give me more alcohol?”

“Hair of the dog.” He shrugs.

“I’m going to my apartment. Where things make sense.” I storm out of their place as best as I can considering I have to crawl out of a window with Nikki calling out that he’ll see me later at the show.

Oh fuck I forgot about the show tonight. I try not to make too much noise getting to my room as Mick is sleeping vampire style on my couch, which seemed to be the new normal for us. Once I’m safely in my room I flop and the bed and shut my eyes praying when I wake up this hangover will be long gone.

The boys are rowdy as ever tonight in their favorite post show booth at The Rainbow. Tommy and Nikki have bashed each other's heads on the table more times than I can count and Vince would disappear every so often for the bathroom, but would return with pupils the size of saucers and a mouth ready to shout along with the overgrown idiots with whom he shared a band. Oh not to mention they had a girl sucking their dicks under the table. I tried to ignore the fact Tommy was struggling to keep his expression neutral as the girl gave him his “turn”.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” I announce not that any of them are really paying attention besides Mick who nods to acknowledge me.

Instead of heading to the bathroom I stand outside listening to the sounds of the strip to calm myself. There was no need to get worked up. So what if you guys might have slept together and you couldn’t remember it? He was an on the rise rockstar that was their thing right, so why did it hurt so bad? I took a deep breath and collected my thoughts again before I went back inside to face the music, but I hoped the girl had moved on to Nikki by now. To my delight (and also surprise) the table girl is gone entirely. Just as I’m about to ask where their personal dick sucking machine has gotten off to a blonde slides in next to Nikki.

“Aye River!” Nikki acknowledges me in his state of drunken friendliness. “I want you to meet Beth.”

“Hello Beth.” Vince winks her way and I can already see the cogs of his brain trying to calculate a threesome at the very least. And taking Nikki’s girl at the very most.

“Hey.” I smile trying to play nice. She seems like most of the groupies the guys regularly fuck, a rich girl that likes coming to the strip to blow guys and daddy’s money on drugs.

As the night continues on Vince and Tommy trade places with him ending up right next to me. The booth is crowded and I try not to let my mind wander everytime Tommy’s fingers brush against my knee or when he tucks his face into my hair to laugh excessively from boyish joy and alcohol mixing.

“Alright well we’re gonna move on to the next bar you coming T-bone?” Nikki slurs holding Beth’s hips against his own and sways in the spot next to the table from being intoxicated.

“Nah man someone’s gotta make sure Riv gets home safe.” Tommy tosses an arm around my shoulder and I feel my face heat up.

“Suit yourself.” Nikki shrugs and a smug smirk falls over his face. “Remember kids the only sure fire way to prevent unwanted pregnancy is to swallow.”

He’s out of my reach when I lunge up to try to whack him which only increases his enjoyment at my embarrassment. He gives me the finger as he and Vince walk away snickering with Beth calling a “nice to meet you” back to the rest of us.

“Ya coming Mick?” Tommy asks as we pile back onto the strip.

“I have to go make sure things are cool with the she-beast at home. River leave the extra key under the mat for me just in case.” He rolls his eyes walking to his car.

Tommy and I have walked home at night alone more times than I could count now and yet there was this thick awkward silence between us this time. He normally would toss an arm around my shoulder or hold my hand, but his hands are jammed in the pockets of his leather jacket and he walks a few paces ahead of me. Just as I’m about to ask him if things are okay he starts to speak.

“You left.” Is all he says softly.

“What?”

“You left this morning and didn’t say anything.”

“I was just really hungover and wanted to sleep in my own bed.” I half lie to him.

“Do you even remember what you said to me last night?” He huffs.

“Tommy I don’t really remember last night.”

“You said you always wanted to sleep in bed and wake up together.” Neither of us continue walking at that point.

“I-”

“Did you mean it?” He asks looking at the ground.

“Yes Tommy.” I admit “You’re my best friend at this point. I feel safest when I’m with you.”

“Yeah. Best friend.” He repeats.

I take the few steps to bring me right beside him and snake my arms around him to hug his middle and by the grace of god he hugs me back. The rest of the walk home is quiet, but the silence doesn’t feel heavy anymore. I convince (not that it took much convincing) Tommy to shower and sleep at my apartment instead of me sleeping in his gross apartment again. My back is to the door and I can’t see Tommy enter my room but I can smell the men’s body wash I forcibly bought for him. The mattress dips and creaks slightly as he settles in next to me and the warmth the shower brought him radiates towards me in waves. An involuntary shudder rolls through my body and the next thing I know I’m being pulled against Tommy’s warm skinny body. I glance over my shoulder to see Tommy staring down at me with an unreadable expression.

“You don’t remember any of last night?” He asks barely above a whisper.

“Nope.” I copy his tone.

“So then you don’t remember…” he trails off and brings his hand up to cup and stroke my cheek and his tongue darts out to wet his lips quickly.

“What?” My eyes flick from his eyes to his mouth and back up again.

I can hear my heartbeat in my ears as the distance between us begins to shrink. My eyes flutter close and I’m sure I stop breathing when our lips ghost over each other not quite fully connecting them.

I hear the sound of shattering glass. Then I smell the fire.

[firebirdsdaughter]

We really ignoring Horobi murdering Izu who not trying to kill him and the fact while he didn’t started this cycle. He sure as hell doing himself no favors by murdering Izu who Artuo closet ally and act all surprised when Artuo hate him. Not acknowledging he the cause for this malice in Artuo. Should Artuo still try to get though to him even though he murder Izu who got no back up compare to Jin who died before and can very well be bought back again?

…

Uh.

Can I just ask… Why are you on my blog? It’s not like I’ve been subtle about my love for Horobi. And you must be on my blog bc I’m pretty sure I haven’t put any of those thoughts in the main tag, and have been carefully tagging them as complaining/negativity/opinions/salt.

1) I’m not saying Horobi was ‘right,’ I’m saying he isn’t in a sane place right now and this wasn’t a ‘cold blooded murder,’ esp bc I’m pretty sure he understands that he regrets it now. He’s been trained for more than ten years to respond to things w/ extremity and violence, as evidenced by the Ark having him repeatedly take out or try to take out things/people that were making him feel in any way—what happened w/ Midori, why he was driven to attack Jin in 41. From Horobi’s extremely damaged and fucked up perspective, he just wanted to make the pain and confusion go away. He didn’t try to hunt out Izu, she approached him, and knowingly endangered herself. Which is why I’m also calling the fact that we’ve seen Izu move faster than a car, she could have dodged the shot and didn’t, so it’s ineffective as drama bc it was easily preventable. I’m calling bs on the writing.

2) Horobi’s definitely not surprised that Aruto hates him? He might be surprised that Aruto went full Ark (I am, too, that feels out of character, I would’ve expected him to just go regular berserk on his own). I’m not saying it’s wrong for Aruto to be mad. Like I just said, I would have expected him to go berserk on his own, which might have ended up leading to Jin’s death anyway. Like… Where did you get that. Actually don’t answer that. Aruto getting angry and going after Horobi would have been one thing, though the way he went Ark is weird to me. What bugs me is the way it’s being treated/reacted to as a ‘black and white’ situation when it should be more grey. Horobi is mentally unwell, and there were multiple factors at work/responsible for the situation. This isn’t just ‘Horobi is a bad person it’s all his fault.’ This is also ‘contrived drama by the writers who are hoping we forgot Izu can break land-speed records.’

2.5) I’m not expecting Aruto to reach out to him at this point. Hell, I’m not even saying ‘forgive’ him, even though I think by this point Horobi has figured out he regrets it. What should really happen is someone else intervenes and keeps them away from each other until both are more stable. Really, someone should have stepped in to control that on both ends. Aruto shouldn’t have been left alone. Neither of them should have. I do think more effort should have gone into reaching out to him before it happened. If they hadn’t been alone in there/if someone w/ a little more ‘emotional/mental experience’ had been present, things might’ve gone differently.

3) Izu still not having a back up is ridiculous, literally everyone knows Aruto is Zero-One, this feels like just terrible planning/lack lustre writing imo, and on top of that, Horobi didn’t know she had no backup. Still doesn’t make his reaction ‘okay,’ bc violence is never the answer, but he’s shown before he believes in bringing AI back through backups, so it may not even have occurred to him that she wouldn’t have one. Additionally, we don’t know Jin has a back up. We can’t say he ‘can very well be brought back again’ bc we don’t actually know that. We don’t know if ZAIA kept that data, Williamson just said they ‘repaired’ him. And that’s also it, even if it exists, ZAIA has it. Not Horobi. Also… This is KR, they could figure out some MacGyver to bring Izu back, even if it’s not clear now, though that’s more of a meta thing. Actually, what I would love to happen is Horobi helps bring her back, maybe as part of therapy.

Look, disagreeing is fine. That’s why I’ve been trying to keep my negative reactions out of the main tag. I’m not trying to get into fights, I’m just venting. I’m analysing what I see and interpret. It’s not that Horobi was ‘right’ it’s that he’s mentally and emotionally unstable rn bc of what happened to him, he should not be expected to know how to react calmly to things, esp if under pressure and in an intense situation. I also literally just wrote a post about how I don’t think it’s fair to blame Izu entirely, either. I comment about blaming the humans (esp Yua and Fuwa (whom I love dearly), but they did escalate the situation and then leave Aruto alone there, wtf did they leave him alone???) bc if they’d listened to Izu at the start we’d likely not be in this mess, or if they’d actually tried to reach out to him before, things could have gone differently.

This is my point of view. If this is upsetting to you, which it seems to be from the tone of this Ask, I recommend blocking my blog, bc these are my feelings on this, and I’m not going to change. I’d block you so that you wouldn’t have to see my posts, but then you wouldn’t be able to see this answer, which I hope explains some of my position, so I’ll leave it for now. Besides, in the end, it’s just a tv show, and it doesn’t actually matter, for all I can get very emotional about things, esp bc Horobi as a character became very important to me.

I hope at least some of that was coherent. I have a hard time articulating my thoughts (part of why I repeat myself so much), and I have been extremely exhausted for the past few days bc my sleep schedule is messed up, so it’s even worse.

I’m not apologising for having an opinion and an interpretation of a piece of media, and I never will. That’s not something I should be required to apologise for. I’m not hurting anyone, bc, again, it’s just a tv show. I’m just in my corner, rambling. I don’t mean any of it as an attack against people who disagree, everyone interpret things differently. For instance, I have things in media that I dislike so much it makes me feel physically ill to think about them, but I just filter them out and it’s fine. I’m even on friendly terms (I hope?) w/ people who like some of those things that make me feel sick, but it’s fine, bc we just don’t discuss them. I know people I disagree about things w/, less viscerally, and have actually had discussions w/ them about that stuff.

Having differing opinions is one thing, but I don’t appreciate the aggressive tone here. I’m saying this partially bc I do understand getting very fired up about something, even if it’s fictional (*looks pointedly at my own blog*), so I’m assuming you just feel very strongly on the subject, but please be aware of how your words might come across—bc the another part of the reason I’m saying this is that I know if I had been in a slightly different mood when I saw this, it might have greatly upset me to unwell levels. I hope it was not your intention to attack me on anything, and that this is just something you feel passionate about, but as someone who often struggles w/ tone and knows it… Please consider it. It can be harmful.