#maybe there were compelling reasons not to i just don't see

[utilitycaster]

Re: villain stans, I really do think you're conflating two groups of people and I feel the need to point it out because the art of haterism deserves pinpoint precision. The thing is that I would consider myself, broadly speaking, a villain stan and I also can't stand the people you're complaining about in that post because I think they've missed the point entirely. They've ruined the entire villain-loving ecosystem. I can't even facetiously say "they've never done anything wrong, ever, in their entire life" about characters that may as well be called Murders McWarCrimes, and whose death or comeuppance I am eagerly awaiting alongside everyone else in the fandom, because some of these idiots actually mean it when they say things like that -- and usually about some of the blandest, most disappointing villains I've seen in a long time. It's like passionately defending the storytelling equivalent of a slightly offensive shade of beige.

Look, some of us see the "time to boo and hiss" signs the narrative is putting up, but I'm not looking to experience every story like it's a children's pantomime. Maybe sometimes I want a wrestling match instead. I know the heel is going to lose. That's their job. It's what they're for. But if imagining that they might win is outside the realm of possibility... well, it's probably not a very good story. The stakes are not compelling. There's a reason that I would describe, say, c1 Briarwoods as delicious and c3 Delilah as overstaying her welcome. A good antagonist is a vital part of the story ecosystem and I enjoy seeing that role played well.

But I don't get to relish in characters being terrible people who do terrible things anymore, because now villain fandom is always overrun by people who read one Wikipedia article on moral relativism and want to have debates about what if Murder McWarCrimes is good actually? No! No, they are not! And if they were, that would be stupid and boring!

And so I reach across the metaphorical aisle to you that we may share in one of the hater's greatest delights: the knowledge that no one likes those idiots, and everyone wishes they would just shut up, even the people they think are on their side.

Hey anon,

I will admit usually when I get a long ask telling me I am conflating things I roll my eyes and wait for someone to say "i am feeling uncomfortable when we are not about me" but, the truth is, I very much was, and you are correct to the point that I think we are fully in agreement.

To be clear: I am pro people enjoying themselves in, as you say, the wrestling fan enjoying the heel way! I agree - a good story needs a villain who feels like a genuine threat. I can appreciate a villain for what they are and enjoy them very much as a character! I am personally unlikely in most cases to root for them but people who look at the story, analyze it, and say "this will be a fun guy to care about, even though I know the victory's probably going to the heroes, and I will be normal and not terribly resentful" are entirely valid and my post is not about them (except to say carry on as you were). It sounds like you're in this latter category and so: carry on as you were, you guys are great.

But I am definitely conflating two flavors of annoying villain stan:

the first is, as you very eloquently put it, the Person Who Read One Wikipedia Article About Moral Relativism and ooooooh what if Mr. Murder McWarcrimes was sufficiently sad about bad things in his life such that the murder and war crimes are correct actually.

The second is the person who does understand that they are looking at a villain who is a bad person but seems actively confused that like, a largely hopeful or heroic narrative will probably not end with Mr. Murder McWarcrimes stabbing everyone to death and then evil laughing against a red lightning-filled sky and seems mad that people are like "actually I like Kit the Heroic Hero". Actual Play D&D is not a place where you'll find these people because a TPK is technically possible regardless of the existing themes! But like...for example, I have to imagine theatergoers in 1983 who weren't idiots did not walk into Return of the Jedi like "oh man I think Darth Vader's gonna win the whole thing and he'll blow up everyone and institute more Space Fascism over the nuked out husk of Endor." Like, as you say, the villain needs to have some bite to be worth my time, but deep in my heart, there are stories where I know that victory is assured by the nature of the plot and it's much more about how it will be assured and what sacrifices will be made, and so it's weird when someone seems to be existing in a denial that that's the story and is like NO Mr. Murder McWarCrimes is NOT going to get a comeuppance and everyone is going to DIE at his hand.

[sophieinwonderland]

Hi! Voices & Gemstones here, I saw your reboot of my post about the phrase the future is plural and I wanted to ask something. I would send my ask off anon but it's my main blog and I'm a little ehhh about using it lol but I come in good faith

Im a trauma based system, trying to navigate syscourse and I agree the human brain can split with no trauma, I just... Struggle with the idea someone could purposely give themselves alters in the same way we've known systems to function.

Do self created systems have amnesia & memory issues too? What about issues with control of the body & fights for front? Foreign thoughts and emotions? If it's a self created system why would you create these problems? It doesn't seem possible or reasonable to us, but we can't not ask.

If life stress is what compelled someone to start a self made system then... Doesn't that count as some form of traumagenic?

And like we said way forever ago on our blog, we don't care what source you claim as long as it helps your function in life, we just

We want to understand different sources of plurality better, and you seem very passionate about education, so we wanted to ask. Thank you for your time

- Gemstone System

Thanks for the questions! 😁

Do self created systems have amnesia & memory issues too?

Nope! I mean, not generally! There's like, one guide that purports to be able to induce amnesia between headmates, but the process requires months of mental conditioning and I don't know of anyone who has actually gone through it.

I have noticed we have sort of speed bumps when trying to access someone else's memories, and our own memories often pop up in our head more easily than memories from other headmates do. But I wouldn't call that amnesia.

What about issues with control of the body & fights for front?

Sometimes.

It depends on the system though, and it's not something that I feel happens too often.

For us... by the time I was created, my host was already a mature adult. (I think with a lot of systems who are plural in childhood, the lack of maturity probably contributes to internal conflict and sets up adversarial relationships.) If I wanted to front, we could talk things out. Most of the time, he'd let me if I asked, but If he didn't want me fronting right then, we could work out a compromise so I could front later instead. It doesn't always work out perfectly. But 99% of the time, negotiation works.

Things were a bit harder in the very beginning, but we got better with thime.

Foreign thoughts and emotions?

Like, passive influence where we feel the emotions of other headmates? Yeah, we get that.

If it's a self created system why would you create these problems?

Most tulpas are created for companionship, with loneliness being a major reason cited in studies of tulpamancers.

Something that's important to understand about tulpamancers is that most don't make tulpas for the switching part. I think originally, in the very very early days long before I got here, the tulpamancy community didn't even know switching was possible, and it was something they discovered later.

How a lot of tulpas start out is purely in the inner world or imposed externally. And learning to switch often takes effort and practice. Maybe that's another reason you won't see many fights over front in the tulpa community, because switching is often an act of love, where the host is willing to dedicate their time to it just to allow their tulpas to be happy and interact with the world. It's not generally something that we'd be fighting over.

If life stress is what compelled someone to start a self made system then... Doesn't that count as some form of traumagenic?

I don't think so. At least not in the same way.

The typical traumagenic systems is a system who experiences trauma as a child. They separate this trauma and their brain tries to distance them from it. As they undergo repeated trauma, they have to return to that traumatized state and the dissociation becomes ingrained into them as a trauma response, often resulting in the presence of triggered switching once the traumatized state develops into its own entity that holds those trauma memories. At the same time, in avoiding trauma, they distance themselves from the traumatized part, creating these memory barriers.

While one could argue that loneliness is traumatic and therefore headmates created due to loneliness are traumagenic, the tulpa isn't holding traumatic memories of loneliness. They're just created to provide companionship.

Hope that helped clarify things a bit!

Have a nice day! 😁

[tanadrin]

Israelis and Palestinians learning to live cheek-by-jowl in one harmonious state like South Africa or Northern Ireland or Bosnia-Herzegovina (for, y'know, a pretty generous definition of "harmonious" in all three cases) would of course be really nice. But AFAICT the first one required political actors who could be trusted to deal in good faith and who had strong legitimacy in their respective communities, plus a long, difficult peace process; the second is still kinda janky and was premised on making future Irish reunification possible, plus involved two states that had disputed the territory between them coming together; the third is still very janky, involves a UN viceroy having a veto over all legislation, and was preceded by pretty hideous war.

So--in each case pretty historically and politically contingent. There aren't a lot of universal lessons you can draw here. And it's really, really hard to imagine anybody in the current leadership of either Israel or the PNA going for it, which would be a minimum precondition.

[emdotcom]

I changed my mind. Hater behavior is undeserved, when it comes to works, & idgaf about holding creators accountable when their games are mid, anymore.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Controversial opinion among Dune book fans maybe, but I loved the changes they made to Chani's character. Making her a fedaykin who is already an experienced fighter before Paul arrives was a brilliant choice. Dune Part Two is a war movie, and this puts her at the center of the action, side by side with Paul, and gives her a much more active role than she has in the book.

We got a hint of where things were going in the beginning of Dune Part One. The first thing we ever know about movie Chani is that she's a fighter. She serves as a voice for the Fremen, telling us the story of their struggle from her point of view. I wrote here about the difference this change makes compared to other adaptations of Dune, what a perspective shift it is to have the world of Arrakis introduced not by an outsider, describing it as a dangerous but valuable colonial prize, but by one of its native inhabitants, who tells us before all else that it's beautiful, her home that she's fighting to liberate. I am so, so glad that the second movie followed up on this characterization.

I never found Chani and Paul's love story in the book particularly convincing, because why would this woman, who already has a prominent and respected place in Fremen society, even give the time of day to her deposed would-be colonizer, let alone fall in love and have children with him? Without a compelling reason for Chani to love Paul, she ends up feeling like a prize to be won, and "indigenous culture personified as a woman to be wooed (or conquered) by the colonizing man" is a trope we've seen and don't need to repeat.

But as soon as you tell me it's a barricade romance I get it. Cool cool cool, I know exactly what this relationship is now and it makes sense. Movie Chani doesn't respect or even particularly like Paul when she first meets him, and she doesn't think he's the fulfillment of any prophecy. She comes to respect him, and eventually love him, through his actions. He's brave--sometimes recklessly so. He fights well. He's willing to stick his neck out on the front lines with the other Fremen fighters. He can (after a little help) hack surviving in the harsh desert environment. He's not too proud to learn from others. He seems to genuinely want to be her equal in a common political struggle. All these qualities make sense as things she values.

Fighting side by side as equals is just about the only way I can see movie Chani falling for Paul. And it fits perfectly with the film's pattern of reversals that Paul's capacity for violence would initially be one of the things Chani likes about him, only for her to be repelled later when she sees what he becomes.

And as for Paul, well, he's had people deferring to him his entire life. Someone who doesn't take any shit from him is probably refreshing. He seems to like people (Duncan, Gurney) who challenge him and engage in a little friendly teasing--and aren't afraid to go a few rounds in the sparring ring.

It's easy to speedrun a romance when you're spending all your time together in mortal danger fighting for a shared political cause. Especially if you then start winning in a war your people have been fighting for decades. Are you kidding me? That is the perfect environment for intense battle camaraderie to turn into romantic love, and lust.

It makes sense that this version of Chani never believes Paul is any kind of messiah. Of course a character like movie Chani wouldn't believe in or trust some outside savior to liberate them. She's been working to liberate her own people for years. The more Paul invokes the messianic myth, the more he starts sounding once again like someone who plans to rule over them, and the more uncomfortable Chani becomes. In this way she becomes a foil to Jessica, the two of them representing the choices Paul is pulled between. It's a great way of externalizing the political and philosophical debates that often happen within characters' heads in the book.

And of course this version of Chani would leave Paul at the end of the film. It's not just the personal, emotional betrayal--although that stings. What common cause does she have with someone who just declared himself emperor and is sending her own people off in a war of conquest against others? Given the important role she plays in Dune Messiah, I am super curious to see how they get her back into the story, but girl was so valid for being willing to just gtfo. Given that she has the last shot of the whole movie, I'm sure she'll be back somehow, and I can't wait to see what they do with her character in any future installments.

[ot3]

Just curious, what’s your opinions on Kristoph and Phoenix? I see you reblog ship posts about them sometimes and I’m really curious about your opinions on their dynamic both inside and outside of ship stuff, because I didn’t really know how to interpret Kristoph in particular. I think he’s one of the worse villains in AA tbh, it’s been a while so I may be misremembering, but I just didn’t… get that much substance from him?

kristoph is certainly a really hard character for me to fully develop an opinion on in isolation. i think the only area where i'm capable of saying anything about him i can back up with significant references to the text is in regard to his relationship with phoenix, because that's where the meat of his character interactions are. and more broadly because as a #phoenixhead my primary means of looking at the entire franchise is how things relate to phoenix. if you'd like to read about my interpretation of phoenix and kristoph's relationship more specifically i've got a post on that subject here. i think it's a character dynamic that has a TON going for it relative to the screentime if you're able to disregard fanon and look directly at what's in the text.

but more on kristoph individually

kristoph suffers from the same thing that all of aa4's major characters and plotlines do: not getting another game. there was clearly more to the gavin brothers' story we didn't get and will never get, and knowing that there's Something there we have absolutely no means of predicting or unraveling makes it hard to theorize. he kind of exists in a quantum state for me where i can see a ton of alternate perspectives on his character's complexities and just buy whichever one i'm feeling at a given moment. i personally wouldn't say he lacks substance because every interaction he has with any other character is, imo, very compelling and gives me a lot to chew on. but he's a character that's all questions and no real conclusions for sure.

i don't think he's a cackling machiavellian serial abuser. i think hes easily the kind of person who has the capacity to be emotionally abusive and manipulative to the people closest to him without being Pure Evil. because we have so little on him it's very easy to portray kristoph as the kind of sinister that provides whatever OP's favorite flavor of angst is. and i'm certainly no exception to that; i just happen to be a person who is into maybe some subtler flavors.

he's both one of ace attorney's most calculated villains, with poisoning vera's nailpolish being an incredibly cold maneuver that suggests a lot of foresight, and one of ace attorney's most brutal murderers, capable of getting aggressive enough in a moment to bludgeon a man to death with a bottle. i think kristoph can be understood as a character whose primary motivation is control, both over himself and others. there's that critical line in turnabout succession where he tells klavier he's out of control, and klavier says "whos control? mine, or yours?" his reputation is built on his ability to stay calm under pressure, and his ability to stay calm under pressure is built on his tendencies to preemptively engineer situations in his favor. the stuff with phoenix and the gramarye case represents what we can presume to be the biggest failure of his career.

i think this puts him very much in line with AA1's main villains. people like to compare him to dahlia a lot for obvious reasons and there's some fun to be had there but i think it lets people overlook how well he ties into AA1. redd white controlled the press and controlled the judges to get away with his blackmail ring. von karma controlled the witnesses to engineer his perfect cases. damon gant controlled the police and the evidence, and then controlled lana to control the prosecution. although those were all one-case villains i think kristoph justifies his larger scope in aa4 by the significant and longstanding personal connections he has to the rest of the main cast. kristoph represents the mirror image of those AA1 villains; aa1 shows the way the deck is stacked against the defense. kristoph shows what it looks like when someone tries to stack it in the other direction

i think kristoph plays an important part in the larger franchise by showing what corruption looks like from the defense's bench, and how this corruption takes a different cadence when it lacks the systemic power that the villains like gant had. i think his cold, calculated approach to defense works well as a foil to the type of defending we saw from phoenix who is all heart and charges in head first. i think apollo works well representing a sort of compromise between the two, being a little bit shrewder than phoenix but no less earnest. i think klavier, then, as a prosecutor who is much less aggressive than the previous 3 both personally and professional serves to further invert the expectations set by the trilogy in a way that's really satisfying.

is kristoph missing some pretty critical backstory that i would love to see? yeah. absolutely. but i think when you look at him as a story device rather than an underdeveloped character he adds a tonnnnn to the series. that said, i will die wondering.

[thursdaygxrls]

Seeing Her

summary - george might (maybe) have a small crush.

pairing - george weasley x fem!bookworm!reader

disclaimer - i don't own any harry potter property. this is unedited because i wasn't in the mood. i don’t own the gif fr.

warnings - just fluff. maybe a little ooc??

He never gave much thought to how full his mind had grown of her until McGonagall struck her desk with her palms. That noise - the searing slap of flesh meeting oak - knocked a sudden realization into the bubbling pot of his mind.

"I do hope you boys are satisfied with yourselves," the older woman chastised through permanently pursed lips, "Professor Flitwick's hair is green!"

"Not purple?" Fred spoke up from next to him.

"This is no laughing matter. You boys are lucky the Professor has a sense of humor. If it were Snape or me in his position, I hope you realize the consequences would be more drastic than detention." She replied. This conversation had fallen upon George's deaf ears, though; his thoughts were much more full of things other than detention:

It was like a dream the first time he saw her - and not just because he had a black eye. He'd just left quidditch practice (or rather, was removed after he and Fred had gotten into a small tussle with the Slytherin bludgers who didn't understand Gryffindor booked the field for practice) when he passed the courtyard. Eye swelling with the beginnings of a bruise, he noticed a hazy glint coming from a line of trees. He could see her; she was only a few meters away, rolling some sort of ring or watch around in a way that caught the light of the fading sun. There was a book in her hands, something with a bright, poppy color, that hinted at it being a pulpy mystery or romance. What caught him the most, though, was her expression; her brows were creased, eyes set in concentration, lips downturned into a frown. Whatever she was reading was pissing her off, and for some reason, the sight of this unknown girl becoming increasingly annoyed at her imaginary tale made his mouth curl into a smile.

George returned to his dorm with that same smile. Of course, though, he'd forgotten about the girl within the hour and found himself following the rinse-and-repeat routine of a mischief-less night. He'd still forgotten when he woke. And when he brushed his teeth. And when he messily knotted his tie.

The funny thing about her was her persistence. He had not even taken a step down the ever-shifting staircase when he saw her. She was far below him and growing farther with every second, but there she was, pulpy fiction novel tucked under her arm. This time, her face was adorned with a grin as she followed (who George could only assume was) her friend towards the Great Hall. This sight caught the boy off guard for long enough that he nearly tripped over his feet when the steps relocated to the right.

George was even more aghast to learn that she was in his potions class. He'd just set down his books next to Fred when an invisible force compelled him to turn around. Following its lead, he found the mystery he'd yet to even consider mysterious seated only three tables away. His eyebrows raised in small bout of surprise as he noticed the the cover of her novel had changed to reveal a more gothic image of a knotted tree: Wuthering Heights. He hadn't cared much to track her progress on the pulp book, but it was still a small shock to see her ready to take on another story. Again, he smiled, noting the title of the new book.

"What'cha looking at?" Fred asked him, interrupting his gaze.

"Nothing," he replied, turning away, "Trying to view things from my purple perspective." Fred let out a low chuckle, his bruised cheek raising as he matched his brother's grin.

It wasn't as if George was seeking her out or anything - actually, it was as though she were seeking him. He saw her everywhere, from breakfast, to the halls, to classes, to the courtyard. He even dreamed of her a few times - nothing special, just the image of her resting along the hazy vignettes of his mind. Throughout all this, he had taken a subconscious interest. She ate away at muggle books faster than he'd ever seen anyone do; she loved cheesy and classic romance alike, and no title was safe from her grasp; it was painful to watch her brows knot and furrow as she became increasingly frustrated with what she was reading; when she was around her friends, her eyes lit up like her ring hitting the sunlight. These were easy things to notice, though. It wasn't hard to see how her hands moved wildly as she explained some sort of crazy story to those at her table in the Great Hall. It was so easy, in fact, that George's studies moved from potions to her every time the class began.

Though George had given plenty of thought to her, he hadn't realized just how much thought he'd donated. At least, not while he and Fred were plotting revenge. Though the bruises on the twins' faces healed over a month or so, their egos had yet to heal. They'd planned their revenge perfectly. The Slytherins who'd given them the shiners left dinner around the same time each night. The twins concocted an elixir that, with just one small drop on a person's head, would dye their hair for days. They'd positioned themselves on a balcony above the route which the Slytherins normally took. It was perfect - but, it wasn't. George took in the hall below him, scanning for the unsuspecting students, when his eyes caught something else. Her.

She was in the hall alone, book in hand, but unopened. It was odd. Normally, if she was by herself, she'd be focused intently on a book. But she wasn't. She was gently thumbing the pages of the novel, looking around the hall inquisitively. Was she waiting for someone? Or maybe she was-

Her eyes met his. His eyes met hers.

Not once in the weeks he'd taken up his sudden interest had she actually looked at him. And now she was. No - she wasn't just looking at him, she was seeing him, and with those eyes. They were so much brighter when they met you head-on - deeper, too. They held indescribable emotions. Curiosity? Maybe - he didn't know, nor did he really care to, because for five seconds, they saw each other. Then, George dropped his vile of elixir right onto Flitwick's head.

"Anything interesting going on up there?" Fred poked George's head. He hadn't even realized they'd already left McGonagall's office.

"Huh?" He mumbled, flicking his eyes around at his surroundings.

"She's got you bloody whipped, eh?" Fred showed off a toothy grin.

"What? Who?" George nearly scoffed at this sudden accusation.

"The girl you've been ogling at in potions. Your neck is gonna get stuck if you keep turning to look at her." He laughed. George scoffed, shoving into his brother.

"Just ask her to go to Hogsmeade with you. Take her to the Leaky Cauldron, get in a quick snog, and get over it already." At Fred's words, George let out a dry laugh and shook his head.

"Fred, you're mental." He let out a breathy chuckle.

"Nothing else? That's all?" Fred cocked his head, "She must've got'cha good. Maybe a couple quick snogs'll do it."

It was going to take more than a snog or two to get this off his mind now. He didn't even know her name - it was nothing. Just a couple stolen glances. But Fred noticed. When the hell did Fred notice anything? Maybe more people noticed. Maybe she noticed. George squeezed his eyes tight as he lay in bed that night - this strange, twisting anxiety had overtaken him and was turning his entire body inside out. Did he want her to notice?

George decided, as he woke up, that whatever it was he was dealing with, he had to get it over with. Before he did that, though, he would have to start his day. Pushing his toothbrush past his lips, all he could think about was her smile, or the way she frowned, or her lips pressed into a line every time she concentrated. When he tied his tie, his thoughts traveled to her wide eyes, full of laughter. He didn't even know her name.

He had a plan. He was going to talk to her - actually talk to her. He'd show up to potions early, ask her about her book, finally figure out her name. He was so focused on his preparations that when he began to descend the stairs, he didn't notice the oncoming pedestrian traffic, and - boom.

George stumbled back, quickly recovering from whoever he'd knocked into. The recipient of his force, though, wasn't as lucky: they ended up straight on their arse.

"Sorry!" He spoke quickly, "Didn't realize the stairs move." His smile (which had formed only a moment ago) faded entirely when he realized who he bumped into. Her. It was her, and she was early for breakfast.

"They tend to that," she replied, picking herself up. If he were a bit more suave, he might've helped her to her feet. Instead, he watched her stand, almost awe-struck by her movements. His gaze moved bashfully, eventually landing on the book that fallen to the floor along with her.

"Your book." He motioned to it quickly. In an attempt to make up for his lack of courtesy in helping her to her feet, he dove for the novel. And so did she. Their foreheads met with another smack, and they separated themselves before either could retrieve the object.

"Two for two, huh?" She let out a small laugh as she rubbed her head.

"Sorry," he repeated with sincerity as he successfully acquired her book from the floor. Once again, they were looking at each other. Seeing each other. George's lips parted.

"I'm George," he spoke, losing every ounce of confidence he normally possessed.

"I'm Y/N," she replied, "Could I have my book back?" George acquiesced almost immediately. He flashed a small smile that she quickly returned. Then, as the steps shifted once more, she began to walk away.

"See you in potions, George!" She called in an earnest tone. George grinned to himself. It was, after all, somewhat of a success. Even if he did - did she just say 'see you in potions'?

[fanficimagery]

The Lost Girl

You just wanted to travel and forget all about the drama you left behind. You didn't expect to fall in with four boys who would become another family. Maybe more.

[Part One of Three]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm- I'm alive? Surprise! I'm still in a bit of a pickle with where I want part two to go, but I figured if I post this now then I can't back out and delete it. I need your help, but I'll ask at the bottom so I won't spoil this.

Words: 7.9K

Santa Carla is the total opposite of Mystic Falls and you couldn't have loved it here more if you tried. You grew up with pageants and balls and trying to stay at the top of the popularity totem pole, but you secretly loathed every second of it. Not to mention your sister was a beacon for the supernatural, attracting vampires like no one's business, which eventually led to you getting caught in the crossfire and being turned at the ripe age of twenty.

Stefan Salvatore did his best to teach you how to feed and control your blood lust, but his techniques just weren't cutting it for you. So Damon took over, leading Bonnie, Matt, Elena, Jeremy, and Tyler deeming you untrustworthy. You don't know why they disliked your friendship with Damon so much, but their wariness of you only grew when you eventually befriended the Original Vampires that once sought to kill you, your family, and friends.

The last straw was when everyone started fighting over a cure for vampirism. They all thought there was enough of the cure to go around for all those who wanted it, but nope. There was only a single dose, and both Elena and Rebekah wanted it. So when you saw the lines being drawn, you packed a couple of bags and left to see the world.

The only person who knew of your travel plans were, surprisingly, Elijah and Klaus. Elijah was sad to see you go, especially since you were one of the only ones who he could trust, but Klaus was all for you seeing the world and experiencing life as you should have. You were more than content compelling your way through the trip, but the Mikaelson's were having none of that and gave you a card to use since they amassed a ridiculous amount of money over the years.

After deleting all social media, with the exception of a traveling Instagram account that was newly made, you bought a new phone and only gave your new number to Elijah and Klaus. You traveled abroad first, touring the most beautiful cities, museums, and seeing every landmark you could. You kept the Mikaelson brothers in the loop about everything that they sometimes surprised you by showing up for a week before flying back home.

For a year you saw all you could and then headed back to the States. You wanted nothing to do with Mystic Falls, Virginia, so you settled in California. Santa Carla was the most nitty gritty town you'd ever seen, and it was the last place anyone in your family would expect for you to stay in.

It was perfect.

With a new hotel having been built in Santa Carla, you compelled yourself one of the suites indefinitely. You didn't want to purchase a house in case you needed to up and leave, and having a housekeeper stop by weekly was perfect.

You stood out amongst the locals of Santa Carla, it seeming like everyone walking around either had some crazy hairstyle, hair color, or numerous piercings. And then there was you, skin untouched and the only piercings you had being those in your ears.

So after a week of settling in and compelling those who needed compelling, you finally decided to hit the infamous boardwalk.

The boardwalk, for some reason, feels like you've stepped into the past. Could be because of the music playing or the way everyone dressed, but you know you didn't actually slip into the past given the cell phones in people's hands or air pods in people's ears. The bells, whistles, and flashing lights make you giddy, taking you back to a time when you were excited as a child to be attending the annual fair Mystic Falls put on, but the attendees were the total opposites of those you'd find in Mystic Falls.

The employees in charge of the various game booths attempt to entice you to play, but you rather spend your cash at the crafts section of the boardwalk. There was no use in paying for a rigged game that made sure you lost ninety percent of the time when you could buy handmade crafts and help support someone's living.

After buying some handmade jewelry and a couple of shirts, you decide to eat. There's a Chinese place that smells marvelous as you stroll by, so you turn back around and enter the establishment. And then almost as soon as you're seated, a waitress comes by to take your drink order. You quickly skim the menu as she gets your drink, then order a bowl of Hot and Sour soup, a plate of Chicken LoMein, two egg rolls, and a pan of fried dumplings. The waitress seems impressed, and you merely laugh it off before sipping your Coke.

As you wait for your food, you grab a napkin and start ripping it apart piece by piece as you stare out the window you'd chosen to sit by. People pass by, uncaring for what's going on in the small restaurant, but then there are two boys that you just so happen to clash gazes with. Both fit with the eighties aesthetic- one with wildly tamed blonde hair that only a true rocker could pull off and the other with a dirty blonde, curly mullet. Both hairstyles are wildly out of place, even if they're trying to make a comeback now, but fortunately for the boys they can pull it off.

"Hey, chika, you want some company?" The blonde with the teased hair shouts so you can hear him through the window.

Holding back a wince at his loud volume, you shake your head. "Maybe next time!"

"Aw. Come on, babe. You're breaking my heart!" He pouts, even as his friend smirks behind his fist.

You shrug, grinning, but are saved from having to interact any further when the waitress appears with your food. As the food is set in front of you and you thank her, you glance at the boys one last time while giving them a wink before digging in.

You casually devour your food bit by bit, asking for a refill on your Coke only once. Then when you've had your fill, you ask for your leftovers to be boxed up. And as you walk outside, you hand said leftovers to a couple of teens digging through a trash can.

Walking around, you soak in the night time atmosphere. The sweat from the humans and the oil used to deep fry all sorts of food is rather distracting from the ocean scented air wafting in, but none of it is as distracting as the copper smell you pick up on one particular gust of wind. There doesn't seem to be any panic-induced mayhem on the boardwalk, so you figure someone must have cut themselves and is getting bandaged up.

A diner further down the boardwalk advertises milkshakes on its main window, and suddenly a strawberry milkshake sounds superb. So after making a quick trip inside to secure yourself a milkshake, you're back on the boardwalk once again.

No one has bothered you the entire time, but the moment you perch yourself on the railing to sip and people watch, one confident individual saunters towards you. It hardly takes you two seconds to realize this individual is in his teens obviously thinking you're a teen as well. But given you were twenty when you were turned and have spent a few years undead, you're so not interested in whatever this boy has to offer.

Before the individual can open his mouth, you hold a hand up to stall him and shake your head. "Stop right there. Not interested."

The boy's expression drops into shock before quickly morphing back into his too confident persona. "Aw, come on, girl. You look like you're in need of some fun."

"I am, but you need to be at least this tall-" you say while holding your free hand at least a foot above his head, "-for me to ride that ride."

There's a snort to your right, but you ignore it, even ignoring the presence that jumps onto the railing next to you before sliding their arm around your shoulder. "Sorry, kid. Maybe the next girl you hit on won't have a height requirement."

There's even more laughter and the boy rethinks his approach before scoffing and leaving. You grin, wrapping your lips around the straw of your milkshake and turning your head to your new companions. "Blondies one and two," you muse. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Just thought we'd play knight in shining armor," blondie one says. "I'm Paul. My friend is Marko."

"YN.."

Paul practically vibrates with energy. "So do I meet your height requirements?"

You laugh, uncaring when he steals your milkshake to sip from. "You may meet the height requirement, but I don't go for blondes. Sorry."

"Aw, chika, you wound me!" He feigns his hurt, holding a hand to his heart as you take your milkshake back. Marko can only laugh, shoving at his friend's shoulder when he leans a little too far his way. Once he corrects himself, he doesn't remove himself from your side. "So what's a pretty girl like you doing here all alone? Waiting for friends? Family?"

"Ugh, no." Your nose wrinkles. "Too much family drama for my tastes so I've been traveling the world for a little over a year now. Santa Carla seems like the least likely of places my family would think to look for me, so I'm staying as long as I can."

Marko seems interested as he leans around Paul to ask, "What's been your favorite place so far?"

"Tromsø, Norway," you reply.

"Why?"

"Because ever since I was a little girl, I've been obsessed with the aurora borealis. It's the best place to view it."

"Cool."

"Where are you staying?" Paul asks. "Maybe we can have a party one of these nights."

"Doubtful. I'm staying in a hotel suite and I have a feeling partying with you would lead to my place being trashed. No thanks."

Marko smirks. "Smart girl."

You grin and sip your milkshake as Marko comes around to lean against the railing on your other side. They ask some more about the places you've been, and you don't know what comes over you that you feel comfortable enough with these two to regale them with your tales of travel. In return, Marko and Paul tell you about themselves and their two other brothers. They tell you that they're all not originally from Santa Carla, but ended up finding each other throughout the years and made their own family unit in town.

Then just as you hop down to throw away your empty cup, the crowd seems to part as two individuals approach. Another blondie with a mullet and a brunette whose hair is almost as wild as Paul's. You can't tear your eyes from the brunette who is all too comfortable going shirtless with nothing but a weathered leather jacket hanging off his frame and some snug fitting jeans.

"Oh, I see how it is." Paul muses in your ear. "You like 'em dark haired."

You throw your elbow back, tearing your gaze away from the brunette in front of you to smirk over your shoulder at Paul when he grunts. Marko snickers at his brother's misfortune. "YN, this is David and Dwayne."

Both the new blondie and brunette nod at you, and you flash them back a faint smile. You're quick to toss your trash, then head back to your new friends. "Well, it was nice meeting you boys, but I should get going."

"Aw, come on, girlie. Hang for a bit more," Paul pleads, but you shake your head.

"Maybe next time."

"Will there actually be a next time or are you gently letting us down?" Marko wonders.

Your eyes roll. "We've only just met and you're already clingy?" You tut at him. Marko gapes and you wink at him. "Yes, there will be a next time. At least there will be if we cross paths again."

"We'll take that," Paul says. He slings an arm around Marko and smiles. "See you around, girlie."

The next afternoon, you decide to have some fun in the sun. You spend the early afternoon in your room, ordering room service and having a nice steak and fry lunch. While eating, you post a few pictures you snapped of the boardwalk nightlife, ferris wheel, and carousel all lit up. Then afterwards, you dress in a bikini before pulling on a pair of jeans shorts and a tank top. Only after slipping your feet into a pair of flip-flops do you pack a backpack with a beach towel, your phone, sunglasses, and some cash before taking your leave.

You're surprised to find that the beach isn't packed, so you pick a spot on the beach to lay out your towel and backpack. You spend a bit of time searching for sand dollars and shells, then go swimming in the ocean. Afterwards, you lay out on your towel with your sunglasses shielding your eyes. You doze on and off, and then just as the sun is setting you start to get up.

Shaking off your beach towel, you get rid of all the sand before folding it and shoving it into your backpack with your clothes. Then heading over to the beach showers, you rinse off all the sand and ocean water, and let yourself dry in the lingering sun rays before slipping your shorts back on.

In the middle of choosing what to eat, you hear catcalls and wolf whistles. You try to ignore it, hoping they're directed to someone else, but nope. They're directed at you. However, when you turn to glare and give the boys a piece of your mind, you find Paul and Marko beaming at you with their other brothers Dwayne and David just watching on.

Your glare vanishes and you roll your eyes as you slowly untense. "Do you guys have nothing better to do than check out girls on the boardwalk?"

"Nope." Paul hops off his bike and practically skips towards you. "What are you doing?"

"Heading to dinner. I spent most of the day on the beach so I'm starving."

"Ohhhh. What are we having?"

"I'm having pizza and wings. If you want to tag along, you buy your own."

"Done." He turns around and shouts, "Come on, boys. We're getting pizza!"

You shake your head and greet Marko when he approaches, smiling at the other two who have yet to speak up. Paul takes the lead and you walk side by side with Marko. The pizza place isn't far and you all head inside. You place your order first- a medium Hawaiian and a side order of boneless honey bbq wings. You accept your number tag after paying and then wait for your new friends to order as well. Then once they've got their own number tag, Paul leads the way to a large booth meant for a large group at the back.

Paul and Marko slide into opposite sides of the booth, and it only takes you a second to scoot in next to Marko before placing your bag at your feet. Paul gasps and you chuckle. "What? Marko seems less likely to continuously elbow me as I try to eat."

"That's cold, girl."

You wink at Paul and are surprised when Dwayne scoots in on your other side. David settles in next to Paul and his ice blue eyes practically pierce you. "So what's a girl like you doing out here all alone?"

"You mean Paul didn't tell you?"

"I'm asking you."

The coolness of his voice makes you arch an eyebrow at him, but Paul's snickering keeps you at ease. So in the end, you shrug. "My siblings and I weren't seeing eye to eye for a while. I had some money put away to take a trip out of the States, but my new found family wasn't having any of that and gave me access to their money. I've traveled for a year before coming back, staying in a place furthest from my hometown."

"Parents?"

"Dead." Paul's smile falters and you kick him under the table. "None of that. It's been a while. It's fine."

"How did it happen?" Marko asks.

You face him briefly before saying, "My sister had a fight with her boyfriend and asked our parents to pick her up from a party. They did, but on the way back home my dad somehow lost control of the car and drove off a bridge. A bystander found them, but by the time he dove under water, my dad made the bystander get my sister out first. My parents ended up drowning."

"Do you have plans on returning?"

"Eventually." Just then a waitress stops by to deliver your drinks. You grin as Paul immediately starts flirting, sipping your Coke as the waitress blushes and stutters before leaving. "These poor Santa Carla girls have no idea how to handle you, do they?"

"Not a clue."

As Marko and Paul laugh, you shake your head rather fondly. You don't know what it is about this group that makes you feel at ease with them, but you're glad to have some people to talk to while you're in town. Another group enters the establishment, a little unruly as they find themselves a table. One of them catches your gaze and you grimace when you notice him leering at you.

Feeling a little exposed, you reach for your bag under the table and pull free your tank top. You quickly pull it on and then free your phone while waiting for your food, not paying much attention to Dwayne who's shifting in his seat next to you. You do, however, notice when something is dropped on your shoulders and realize Dwayne has given up his jacket.

You freeze and quickly glance up at Dwayne, taking a moment to stare at all the bronze skin now on display, but his glare is directed at the table of troublemakers who are snickering among each other. "Uhh.."

"Just wear it."

"Okay."

Those are the first three words Dwayne has spoken to you and you absolutely do not shiver at the sound of his voice. Paul, Marko, and even David sense something else and you flip them off after slipping your arms through the sleeves of Dwayne's jacket. Then just as you go to sip on your drink, your phone starts ringing with a video call.

Big Bad Wolf, complete with a wolf emoji, is stamped across the top of your phone above a picture of a smirking Klaus. "Uhh, do you guys mind if I accept this?"

"Go ahead, girlie."

You accept the call, keeping it so that only you're on screen. "What do you want?"

"Is that any way to talk to me, love?" You roll your eyes, grinning, and Klaus chuckles. "What are you doing?"

"Uhh, I'm out to dinner with some new friends," you say.

"You've already made friends?"

"Mhm. Look." You turn so Marko is in frame. "This is Marko." Marko grins and nods. Then you flip the camera and catch Paul. "This is Paul and David is next to him, but David is glaring at me. I'm pretty sure he'd kill me if I put him on camera."

Klaus chuckles. "Fair enough."

"And then this.." You glance at Dwayne, but he merely arches an eyebrow at you. You grin and turn the camera on him. "This is Dwayne."

A split second later and then, "No."

"W-What?" You splutter. Paul and Marko choke on a laugh, and finally both David and Dwayne smirk. "What do you mean no?"

"Elijah!"

Your eyes widen. "Why are you calling 'lijah? Don't call 'lijah!"

Elijah appears next to Klaus and you groan. "Go on, sweetheart. Put your friend on."

"Marko? Or Paul?"

"Don't play dumb."

You grumble and put Dwayne on camera. "Absolutely not," Elijah says.

"You guys are embarrassing," you grumble. "He's literally only said three words to me."

"Mhm. And whose jacket are you wearing?" Klaus asks.

You pout. "I hate you." Just then you catch sight of two waitresses coming with your pizza. "Oh, look. Food's here! I'll talk to you gentlemen later."

"YN-"

"I'm fine, Klaus. I'm okay and I'm happy. I promise."

"Well okay then. Call me back when you get to your room."

"Will do, big bad wolf. Talk to you later."

You end the call just as a pizza is being placed in front of Paul and Marko, then yours is placed in front of you, and then another is placed in front of David and Dwayne. You're handed your boneless wings, and you happily wiggle in your seat. You're starving!

After you take your first bite of the sweet Hawaiian pizza, David asks, "So was that your boyfriend?"

"Ew. No." Your nose wrinkles and you quickly swallow your bite of food. "Klaus and Elijah are like my older brothers. They're the two who are funding my whole trip."

"They sound fancy with those posh accents of theirs," Paul muses.

"They are fancy," you admit. "They host balls and everything. I seriously hated wearing those dresses with a poofy skirt. They're so uncomfortable to sit in."

"No way!" Paul laughs.

"Mhm. Look."

As you eat some more of your food one-handed, you open the photos app on your phone and seek out the album from all the parties you attended. You hand your phone over to Paul, and Marko actually leans across the table to get a glimpse of the life you left behind.

As the two of them swipe picture after picture, laughing, you eat in peace. You even crack a grin when Dwayne picks off your tray of boneless wings, chuckling when he tells you it's payment for wearing his jacket. You end up having to tell the boys who is who every time they ask and deny any romantic relationship accusations when a picture of you dancing with Damon pops up. You admit he was a good friend up until his feelings for your sister clouded his judgment and you'd had enough of their drama.

Dinner proceeds uninterrupted, but it's when you get up to leave that the table of troublemakers from earlier causes an issue. With Dwayne's jacket returned to him, you follow the group as David leads the way out. You've just passed the table of leering individuals when a loud smack! resonates in the room and a brief stinging pain blossoms on your butt. You freeze, your new friends freeze, and then you're whirling around to glare at the culprit. You slowly look at the smug individual as his friends cackle like morons.

Anger flaring, your hand whips out and grasps the guy by the back of the neck. You slam his head down onto the table, causing him to grunt and his friends to fall quiet. You lean down so your mouth is next to his ear and grit out, "Touch me again and I'll rip your fucking throat out." You put pressure on his neck, causing the table to groan under the weight of the pressure. "With my teeth," you hiss. Pushing off the too quiet guy and facing your new friends once more, you shrug. "What?"

David, Dwayne, Marko, and Paul just stare at you before chuckling.

"You're scary, girl. I like it."

With a roll of your eyes, you step forward and push past Paul. "Come on. Show me what Santa Carla has to offer."

Over the course of a week, you hang out with who the locals have dubbed the Lost Boys. Paul and Marko treat you like a long lost best friend, Dwayne has taken to hovering over your shoulder, and David is pretty indifferent to your presence although he will stand up for you if need be. Your senses tell you there's something off about the boys, but you don't realize what it is until you scent the coppery fragrance of blood coming off of them one night they're late to meet you.

If they're vampires, they must be vampires who don't know who the Mikaelsons are because none of them recognized the family in your pictures. But you don't call them out, nor do you hint about yourself, at least not until you're walking on the beach one night and your senses are assaulted with the scent of a lot of blood and screams off in the distance.

Glancing around, you notice the boardwalk is empty and shutting down. The beach where you're at is empty as well, and as you speed towards the sound of terror, your suspicions are proven correct about the Lost Boys.

They're unlike any vampires you've seen, more brutal in their feeding than even the Big Bad Hybrid himself. Their vampire visages showcase a true monster, but for some reason it doesn't bother you as it probably should. They're sinking their fangs into necks, shoulders, torsos, and even skulls, laughing all the while their victims scream in horror.

In their feeding frenzy, they don't notice you standing just on the outskirts of the firelight. Limbs are ripped from bodies before being tossed into the fire, blood spraying carelessly across the sand. But the moment the frenzy dies down, you can't help but make an entrance.

Slowly clapping, you smirk as all four vampires freeze and turn towards you as you walk into the light. David snarls, his monstrous face still on display as Paul and Marko quickly change their features. Their expressions are a bit crestfallen as you continue to find amusement in this situation, so you walk towards Dwayne who has gone stoic. "I get the bloodlust, but do you guys have to be such messy eaters? Gross." You wrinkle your nose as you kick an arm into the raging fire.

"W-What?" Paul splutters.

Looking back at Dwayne, you reach over and run a finger through the blood staining his chest. Then popping that same finger into your mouth, you wrap your tongue around your finger and savor the fresh blood now coating your tongue. You feel the veins beneath your eyes slither to the surface and your fangs elongate in your mouth. Then meeting Dwayne's gaze, you flash him a fangy grin. "I prefer to compel, eat, and release, but you do you I guess."

"Holy shit. You- you're a vampire?!"

Meeting Marko's stunned expression, you wink.

"You have a lot of explaining to do," David says.

"Sure." You meet his now ice-blue gaze. "But only after you clean up after yourselves. This," you say while gesturing to their dismembered victims, "is sloppy."

You watch as David oversees the cleanup of their little section of the beach, burning the bodies and kicking sand over the spilled blood. Afterwards, they all take a dip in the ocean to cleanse themselves of their meal.

On the way to their bikes which are parked just a bit down the beach, Paul asks, "So how old are you?"

"Which age are you referring to? The age I was when I was turned or how many years I've been a vampire?"

"Both."

"I was turned at twenty," you say, "and I've been a vampire for less than five years."

"No shit? How were you introduced to this world?"

"That.. is a very long story. Why don't we get someplace where I can actually tell it?"

As their bikes get nearer, you hiss at Paul when he pushes you in Dwayne's direction. Almost as if it was expected of you to ride with Dwayne, he settles on the seat of his bike before offering you a hand so you can situate yourself behind him.

Hanging on loosely, you enjoy the ride and take amusement in the sudden turns and jumps they take to try and startle you. But instead of being shaken, you merely laugh and pinch Dwayne's side when you're jostled too much.

The drive to the cliffs that you know to be Hudson's Bluff, overlooking the disgruntled sea, is rather short. You have a moment to glance down a rickety, wooden staircase before the group is driving down them one by one. You're jostled even more as the bike is driven over various rocks and through a gaping hole in the fence that's meant to keep trespassers out. They drive into a cave where the bikes are then parked, and you climb off to follow Paul down a very humid path.

Swiping cobwebs, vines, and roots out of the way, you're then led into a cavernous room. There are shafts of moonlight lighting up the space, and then Paul and Marko fire up barrels all around the space. The place is trashed, but you quickly realize it's not a normal cave. There's a sofa, chairs, and a broken water fountain. There's what appears to be a long counter- or was it a desk?- and a tattered portrait hanging behind it.

"What is this place?" You ask as you glance around in wonder. They obviously made it their own- seashells and broken CDs hanging from every place available, as well as hundreds of melted candles over every surface. You even spot a mattress, pillows, and blankets hidden behind some type of gauzy material.

"This was the hottest resort back in the day," David drawls. "Too bad they built it on a fault line though. When the big one hit San Francisco in 1906, this place took a header down into the ground when it split open. It's been our home ever since."

"Nice." You plop down on a couch, sighing as you stare at each boy. "So what do you wanna know?"

"Everything." David takes a seat on a wheelchair, staring right at you. "Start from the beginning."

"Fair enough. I was born and raised in Mystic Falls, Virginia to parents who ran their own business. I didn't want for anything and ended up being a letdown when I wasn't into pageants as my mother hoped I would be."

"Did your parents even die by drowning?" Marko asks.

"Yes. That was true," you tell him. "After their death, my aunt Jenna took in me, Elena, and Jeremy. Both my siblings grieved differently, but when the new school year started, my sister did a complete turnaround when Stefan Salvatore entered the picture."

"Why do I get the feeling this Salvatore dude is a major player in your story?" Paul asks.

"Because he is. Unbeknownst to any of us, Stefan Salvatore was vampire number one. He was drawn to Mystic Falls all because of my sister Elena."

"Why your sister?" Dwayne asks, startling you. He rarely spoke up, but when he did, you couldn't help but be drawn to him.

"Do you guys know what a doppelganger is?" At their nods, you explain. "Elena was the latest human doppelganger. The previous doppelganger, Katherine, toyed with two brothers back in 1864. The Salvatore brothers, to be exact."

"Shit." Paul giggles. "Talk about a vampire novella."

"Anyway, Katherine toyed with Damon's feelings and made him fall in love with her. When she tried the same with Stefan, he resisted so she compelled him to love her. And then when it came to light that there were many vampires in town, every vampire was rounded up, vervained, and anyone who associated with them were killed. As it just so happens, the Salvatore brothers' father found out his sons were romantically linked with Katherine, so he shot them. Unfortunately for him, Katherine had been feeding the boys her blood, so when they were killed, they didn't stay dead for long.

"Fast forward to the present time and both Salvatores are now salivating for the newest doppelganger. Only this time, Stefan has fallen in love with Elena without any compulsion, and so has Damon. Katherine's apparently been keeping tabs on the brothers and she's not happy that Elena has the love of the brothers."

David makes a motion with his hand to hurry you along. "How did you turn?"

"Katherine has made it her mission to make Elena's life a living hell, so what better way than to kill one of her best friends and older sister?"

Paul gapes. "You're joking."

"Nope. The crazy bitch fed me her blood before snapping my neck, then smothered Caroline who happened to have Damon's blood in her system. When we woke up in transition and fed on human blood to complete the transition, half of our friends turned on us. We had to rely on Damon and Stefan to teach us to control our bloodlust, but things were never the same. And to top it all off, learning to become a vampire was the least of our worries."

"What's more important than knowing you've died and have to kill people to survive?"

"How about that one of the Original vampires- who is over a thousand years old, by the way- needs the blood of a human doppelganger to break the curse on him, so he decides it's his turn to make your family's life hell as well?"

"Oh shit. What curse?" Paul asks.

You slowly smirk. "Niklaus Mikaelson is not just one of the original vampires, but he's the one and only original hybrid. He's half vampire, half wolf, and one of the most lethal individuals that still walks this earth."

The boys fall silent, but then Marko speaks up.

"Hold on. The dude funding your trip around the world is the same person who made your life a living hell?"

"Yep," you muse. "We were at each other's throats for the longest time, then his sister killed my sister which turned her into a vampire as well, and there was just a shit load more drama with doppelgangers, witches, werewolves, and hybrids." You shrug. "Elijah was never truly terrible, so I spoke more with him first, but then Klaus really took the brother role to heart. The Mikaelsons have kind of adopted me, and my siblings and friends didn't take too kindly to that. So, to avoid all the drama, I left. And now here I am."

For the rest of the late night and early morning, you answer all questions you can. Paul and Marko are interested to see the differences between you and them, but David and Dwayne are more interested in learning about the Original vampires and their unique differences. Their biggest hangup, however, is that the sun has no effect on you like it does them. Sure you both will catch on fire, but it doesn't pull you to sleep the day away like it does them. You're a bit jealous that they can fly, but you're so much faster than any of them.

The moment David mentions the impending sunrise is your cue to go, so you bid farewell to your friends before winking at Paul and disappearing before they can even blink.

For the next couple of days, you keep yourself busy by running some errands for Klaus. You meet with vampires and piss off a couple of werewolf packs, but all in all the work gets done. You hadn't been able to keep in touch with the Lost Boys, so Paul and Marko whoop in cheer when they spot you.

"Well if it isn't Miss Mystic Falls," Paul muses. "Where the hell have you been, chika?"

"Sorry. Sorry!" You lean against the railing in between the group, grimacing. "I had a few things to do and since you're all allergic to modern technology, I couldn't text or call."

"Anything we need to know about?" David wonders.

Normally you'd say no, but Santa Carla is his territory and you don't want any bad blood with him. "Not really. I had a few things to pick up for Klaus and a few messages to deliver to some werewolf packs up North."

David frowns. "There are packs nearby?"

"The closest one is fifty miles out, but they're all pretty scared of Klaus and what he can do so they stay in line. If there's anything to worry about, it's any lone wolves who decide to take shelter in the woods around Hudson's Bluff and don't give a flying fuck about the Original Hybrid."

"Pft. We can take on a rogue werewolf if need be," Paul says.

"You say that now, but you won't be saying much when you get bitten by one. Remember, werewolf bites are lethal to us vampires." Paul's smugness dims. "Now who's good to eat around here? I didn't have time to grab some blood bags from the hospital."

"Stay away from the Surf Nazis," Dwayne says.

"Surf Nazis? What the hell kind of name is that?" Your nose wrinkles in distaste.

"A name that they've had since the eighties," Marko says. "It just stuck because they're still a bunch of racist and bigoted pricks."

"Fair enough. So, if I can't eat them, who can I eat?"

All four boys readily scan the crowd, excited at the prospect of picking your dinner.

"Do you have a preference? Male or female?" David asks.

"No junkies and I'm good with either male or female."

After mere seconds, David already has his pick. "On your three. Group of guys keep glancing this way. I'm pretty sure they're not checking Marko out."

You subtly glance at them and figure any one of them is good enough. "Alright. Since you guys are intimidating as fuck, you're gonna say goodbye and go do your own thing. Whoever approaches me first is dinner."

"Boo. You're no fun." Paul's the first hop off his bike, giving you a side hug. "We'll be watching from the roof."

"Of course you will." You roll your eyes, laughing.

Marko winks at you as he follows after Paul, David nods at you, but it's Dwayne who makes you arch an eyebrow at him as he glares at the group of guys before leaving. You chuckle at the oddness of it all before shaking it off and then pulling out your phone to kill some time.

It doesn't take long at all for someone to approach you and you easily fall into the role of the lone human girl way too easily. You chat for a bit and find out he's in fact in college, on break for a week and just looking for some fun. You tell him you're taking a gap year, just passing through Santa Carla and was hoping for some fun as well. His lecherous grin lets him know you have him on the hook.

"Wanna take a ride on the ferris wheel?" He asks.

"I'll do you one better. I say we visit an alley away from prying eyes without giving any ride operators an eye full."

"Oh, fuck yes."

Smirking in triumph, you hop off the railing and grab up the guy's hand. You briefly meet his friends' gaze before winking at them, leading their friend off to what they think is going to be a very good time. For you it will be, but for him? Not so much.

Once at an alley that doesn't have much traffic passing by either end, you lure the guy inside. In the middle of the alley, you turn so your back is against the wall and let him grab you by the hips. But as you cradle his face before he kisses you, you meet his gaze and say, "Don't scream. Don't fight. This will be painless."

The guy goes quiet, and you let your face change before his very eyes. He tenses, but he stays stock still without uttering a peep. Then reaching around to grasp the hair at the back of his head, you angle his head so you can sink your fangs into his neck. You drink and drink, satiating your thirst while listening for the first skip of his heart. When you've had enough, you clean his neck wound of any blood and then prick your tongue with a fang to smear your own blood on the bite wound. It heals after a minute, and you pull back to meet his gaze once more.

"When you get back to your friends, you're gonna be smug but also a little bit let down. Admit I'm the greatest kisser you've ever had, but before we could get to any of the good stuff, we were interrupted by a homeless couple."

"We were interrupted by a homeless couple," he parrots back.

"Good boy. Now to make things more believable..." You slowly smirk before pulling him close, capturing his lips with your own.

The guy is shaken out of his compulsion and his arms wrap low around your waist to pull you even closer to him. You kiss him roughly to make sure his lips appear swollen and even muss his hair up. But the moment you reach under his shirt and rake your nails across his back, causing him to groan, you hear someone drop down beside you.

One second, you're enjoying a kiss and the next your victim is shoved away from you. Dwayne practically puts himself between you and your meal as he snarls, "Get. Lost."

The other individuals drop down into the alley, and you meet three amused expressions. Paul and Marko are snickering quietly whereas David is smirking at his dark-haired brother.

"You alright there, Dwayne?"

Dwayne turns, expression unimpressed at David's question. Instead of answering him, he turns his stare on you. "What?" You feign innocence. "I had to sell it. His friends needed to believe I brought him in here for anything other than feeding."

"Whatever. Next time, just kill the guy."

As Dwayne stalks off, you smile at his back. The moment he disappears, you ask, "Was that- was that jealousy?"

"Yep." Paul skips to you, draping an arm around your shoulders. "Dwayne's always been possessive, but it's been a long time since he took real interest in someone."

"This is going to be fun," Marko muses.

You roll your eyes and sigh but can't help but agree.

Over the course of another few days, it's now very obvious that Dwayne's hovering wasn't just because you were a female. He most definitely knows you can take care of yourself, yet he's still there, but now he's openly snarling when someone looks at you a little too long. To placate him, you only ride with him and pull him into the V of your thighs when you're sitting on the railing. He starts tensing up the moment you all people watch for your next meal and other guys stare back, but the tension drops from his shoulders when you hop onto the railing, pull him into the V of your thighs, and hug him from behind.

Nothing intimate happens between you and Dwayne, but it becomes an unspoken rule among the small coven that you're off limits.

Everything seems to be going well until you meet the boys on the boardwalk one night and David looks livid.

Your smile instantly vanishes. "What's wrong?"

"The woods smell like fuckin' dog," he seethes.

Immediately your gaze snaps towards the sky and your heart sinks. "It's a full moon."

"We know. We're gonna try and kill this wolf for stepping into our territory and pissin' all over the place."

"What?" Your voice is lethally quiet as you meet David's gaze. "You have to be joking. One bite- hell, even one nip!- is a death sentence."

"We'll be fine. We just thought we'd let you know."

As they turn to mount their bikes, you swear. "Goddammit. Wait for me. You're not doing this alone."

You climb onto the back of Dwayne's bike, wrapping your arms around his waist as you glare at the others for their idiotic choices. They're quite solemn as they drive to the woods, and you keep your eyes peeled for the werewolf in question. As they come to a stop, you climb off and glance around the eerily quiet woods.

"So do you have any tips on tracking a werewolf?" Paul muses.

You gulp. "It's a full moon and this wolf most likely claimed these woods as theirs. It'll be hunting us."

The boys chuckle and start walking, combing the woods for any sight of the wolf. It isn't long until a twig snaps- a twig that neither you nor the boys have stepped on. You all freeze.

"Showtime?" Marko wonders.

You sigh. "Be prepared to run. Werewolves can match a vampire's speed on the nights of a full moon."

"We'll be alright."

Almost as soon as the words leave Marko's mouth, the werewolf rushes in. It takes down Paul by his knees, standing on his back and snarling. Before he can snap his jaws, you rush over and kick the werewolf to send it flying.

"What the fuck was that?!" Paul incredulously asks as he hurriedly climbs back to his feet.

"A werewolf," you deadpan. "Keep your guard up. It'll come back."

For a few minutes, it seems like the werewolf is toying with all of you. It keeps knocking down the boys, snarling before disappearing. You've kicked it off your friends three times by now, but the second you hear a howl in the distance, you and the boys freeze.

"There's a second one?" You ask. David shrugs and you bite your tongue to keep from giving him a verbal lashing. "It was stupid to do this on the night of a full moon. We need to leave right now, and I'll do my best to sniff out the werewolves tomorrow so we can handle them when they're in their human forms."

"How much harder can two werewolves be?"

"Pretty fuckin' hard, David. I know you're a badass and all, but we need to do this another night."

Before David can answer, Dwayne shouts. You whirl around, eyes widening at seeing a werewolf pinning him to the ground with its sharp teeth inches from his face. Without thinking, you fly at the wolf, tackling it off of him. You and the wolf scramble for the upper hand and you hiss when there's a pain in your shoulder.

Eventually, you manage to pin the wolf to the ground by its neck and shove your hand into its chest cavity to yank out its heart. With the wolf dead, you toss the heart aside. "Now will you listen to me? This was such a stupid fucking idea." The boys remain quiet, staring at her.

Actually, they're staring at your shoulder.

"What?"

Dwayne steps forward, carefully reaching for your arm and pulling you a step towards him. You frown, but then hiss when he moves the neckline of your shirt off your shoulder. "You're bit."

Your heart falls into your stomach and you quickly glance at the shoulder that you now realize is burning. Your eyes fill with tears. "O-Oh."

"Oh? Oh?!" Dwayne nearly shouts. "Werewolf bites are lethal, remember? How could you be so goddamn stupid?!"

Your bottom lip trembles. "I'm well aware of that, Dwayne. I was the one who told you to hunt the werewolf another night, remember?" You sigh and pull your hand free from his grasp. You take a moment to collect your thoughts before admitting, "There's a cure. Only a select few know and the cure is hard to get your hands on unless you're on friendly terms with those who have access to it. It's not my secret to divulge, so I was compelled to not say anything unless it was an emergency."

"What is it?" Dwayne asks. "We'll get it."

"You can't. But I can," you admit. "Let's just get to the cave. I have a phone call to make."

So, for part two, do we want the Mystic Falls gang to follow Klaus to Santa Carla or do we want the Santa Carla gang to visit Mystic Falls?

[giamee]

𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐖!

╭─────────────────────── ( 🎐 )

even though you don't talk, they'll still find a way to listen

› 〉 📂 .ೃ | mute reader, jus some fluff really, bit on the short side

requested by @/anon

╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ ok i should nawtttt have used this colour scheme im squinting like a rat at my screen tryna see what i'm saying. the title is 'cigarettes out the window' (shoutout tv girl) if u couldnt read it which i do not hold against u

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 GEPARD.

it's simply in his nature to look out for others, to ensure that everyone is alright. and when he meets you, he's thrown for a loop a little. because you are fine.

the first time he sees you is in serval's workshop- you're just leaving, and something compels him to make sure that he speaks to you, even if it's for a few fleeting moments before you leave and he most likely never sees you again.

it's a simple question of how your day is, but you simply offer him a small smile before ducking past him, scurrying out of the door that he held open.

he's puzzled at first- maybe it's something to do with him? did you not want to talk to him? but then his sister explains that you're mute, and now he feels like a fool.

and thus begins his attempts to talk to you.

he writes you little notes to begin with. luckily for him, you're a regular at serval's shop, always seemingly having some device or another broken and in need of repairing. serval rolls her eyes at the pair of you- at gepard for being an idiot (you can still hear, you don't need notes), and at you for your attempts to run into her brother as often as possible (those machines weren't really broken).

despite this, it was somewhat amusing to watch the pair of you attempt to flirt with each other. and somewhat cute when your attempts worked.

you kept each and every one of gepard's notes to you, as redundant as they were. his handwriting was a little scruffy, and if you looked at them hard enough you could spot the little tremors where he tried to make the lettering neat.

a special treat was when he decided to add little doodles to them. it was anyone's guess as to what they were supposed to be- you were pretty sure that one of them was supposed to be you- and your heart warmed amidst the chicken scratch and stick figures.

you decide to write your own note back to him. in the top right corner is a little sketch of him, on a similar level to his own creations, that you hope he'll appreciate alongside the note.

you give it to him along with your best smile, mentally capturing the look of joy on gepard's fave at your little gift to him. you were gone by then, shyness overtaking your urge to stay, so you could only imagined his face when he realised that what you had written to him was a formal request to take him out on a date.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 DAN HENG.

for dan heng to open up to someone new, several criteria have to be met.

for starters, he had to be at least a little bit comfortable around you. receptive, but not too probing or overbearing. rational, but not judgmental. open, but not too much.

in many ways, he was like a cat. you had to let him come to you.

and luckily for you, you seemed to fulfil those criteria.

as one of the newest additions to the astral express, you were in some sort of in-between phase of being one of them and a stranger. you communicated in your own ways, but you found yourself withdrawing to your room. it was overwhelming, this new environment.

it was only natural that you felt more drawn to dan heng more than anyone else. he had similar qualities to you- more introverted, tended to keep to himself. and, as you later found out, you both had a tendency to burn the midnight oil.

it became almost routine to run into him when you're both up late, wandering the astral express for some peace of mind. brief encounters with little nods sent your direction gradually evolved into longer moments spent basking in each other's presence, mostly in silence. but not always.

you both had your reasons to be up late- on the nights where dan heng looked more frazzled, a certain look in his eye, is when you began to piece him together.

he'd lend you some information of his own volition occasionally, telling you about the nightmare he had, recurring or not. there was just this certain quality to you, a look in your eye that made him feel like you truly did listen to him.

and he wouldn't trade your late-night rendevous for the world.

𝜗𝜚 honkai star rail masterlist

[panchatea]

GREEN

GREEN

#1 of 3 Colors Series.

TRIGGER WARNING is expected, proceed with caution

Dreamcatcher Fanfiction

6322 WORDS

chacha story commissions

It was cold light blue… 

Really cold and these red mosquitos were everywhere feasting and leaving itchy marks on each arm and leg. It was crippling, it was dark, but at least it was quiet. 

Finally quiet.

It was white.

A sweater or a hoodie would be quite useful right now, but there was no point, right? After all, it all doesn’t matter now, there was nothing to lose or gain anymore. Just take mindless steps… mindless heavy steps with no direction. Grab the gray asphalt underneath. Feel the cold, feel all of it… 

Blink.

It was dark, yet it was bright.

It was white.

All of these blinding lights were everywhere from store signages and street lights. Countless lost red and yellow souls passing by each other, and not caring about one another. After all, people have their own problems to deal with. 

Problems.

If only it were that simple, but it wasn't.

It never did.

Wish it was all monochrome but no, everything was bright, too bright to begin with, too colorful, too complicated, and there was no side ledge to stand on top off to. There was no compelling, pulling, and captivating clear dark blue body of water to drown in.

Not that everything wasn’t already drowning and suffocating.

All there was just darkness, this asphalt underneath, and all of these bright street lamps.

Just breathe.

It’s not that hard. It’s not that hard to just breathe.

Hard to breathe.

“You’re green.” That was what she said before grabbing onto your hand, without asking and pulling you away from these heavy mindless steps. She held tightly as every color blurred out, and each step kept getting lighter.

Run.

Her hand was soft, but she was gripping tightly and she was shaking as if… you looked at her. She was purple.

It was fast and blurry. All these colors mixed up and there was no clear path and all you could focus on was her. Her color oozed with purples and violets. Her blonde hair. That black sweater and gray skirt. And run to god knows where she would take you.

“What are you thinking about?” She yelled, still running.

“I don’t know…

Like maybe why are we running?

Who are you?

What are we even doing?

Aren’t you running out of breath?”

“Hey calm down, Green. Geez, you have too many questions.” She didn’t answer any of them.

“Are we lost?!” You yelled back.

You could just stop and let go of her hand but you didn’t. Why because for some reason…

“It’s okay, Green.” Once again her answer didn’t answer the question, but her words, felt like they meant something else.

Like it was okay to be lost.

“Why are you calling me Green?”

“Breathe.” She stopped. You both stopped.

“What’s that expression on your face?” She added.

“How about you? What are you so afraid of?”

Once again, she didn’t answer… She just looked at you while she caught her breath.

“You can see it, right?”

“I don't know what you are talking about.”

“The colors. Tell me what color I am?”

“You’re purple or violet… I don’t know, I don’t care. What does it even mean?”

She just laughed, loudly until it was all you could hear, breaking the whites, mixing in the dark.

“Can you just talk to me like a normal person!?” You shouted and she just looked surprised. She pouted but she didn’t say anything.

“Look, I’m sorry for yelling. I just, can’t deal with this right now. I don't have time for this.” You tried to walk away but her next words stopped you.

She was really pushy.

“I'm not normal, Green.” She laughed.

“You’re silly, you know.” She squatted looking at your toes, at your shoeless feet.

“It's just that sometimes or most of the time, I get into these moods. I say what I want. I do what I want. You’re right… I’m purple. You’re funny, you don't know the difference between purples and violets.” She pointed at your feet happily.

“Your toes are dirty, aren’t they cold? Don’t go running without shoes or a flip-flop. I like violet more than purple, so I appreciate that you thought I was a violet.”

She says one different thing after another.

“You’re weird.” You sighed out of frustration as you grew aware of what she pointed out, yes your feet were cold.

“It’s my first time seeing your shade of green,” she muttered.

“Usually, I would see it in restaurants or children who don’t like their veggies. Did you eat something weird? But you’re different, it’s as if you’re disgusted by yourself.” She looked at you intently, studying your expression or rather studying your expression and peeking into your soul.

“That’s none of your business scaredy fox.” You reached inside your pocket and took out the single stick of cigarette left in there and a lighter.

“Hey, don’t smoke, Green.” She jumped up while simultaneously snatching the stick slipped in between your fingers, and threw it away. “It’s bad for you.”

“What’s your problem?!” You shouted at her and she just smiled.

“How about you? What’s your problem?” She retorted sternly as if she really believed that snatching that cigarette was the right thing to do. You just sighed in defeat. 

She had this commanding and carefree aura or in other words she was weird and she just didn’t care.

“Come on, just calm down and enjoy this view,” She tapped your shoulders before turning to look around. What view? All of it was just empty dark streets lit by white street lights, colorful street signage of 24-hour establishments, and the occasional passing of cars, and red and yellow souls.

“You’re weird,” you commented and she just smiled back at you.

“Keep telling me that, Green. It’s better to be weird than be normal, that sucks.”

“Stop calling me, Green. I don’t know what it means and I have a name,” you retorted while you stared at her. Now that you have a chance, you realize how beautiful this girl was… She looked like an idol, and the street lights weren’t blinding for once, they just illuminated this girl enough to show her violet self.

“So go ahead and tell me your name,” She challenged as she turned back and made eye contact.

“I don’t want to.”

She pouted, “Come on, I’ll tell you mine so tell me yours.”

“Why should I, you’ll keep calling me green anyways, Violet.”

“Haha, maybe I should dye my hair violet soon. Sure, that’s fine, let's just talk like this. Do you wanna walk? Or do you wanna sit?”

You laughed as you took a sit on the sidewalk underneath one of those white street lights.

“You made me run and then you’ll make me walk, don’t forget that I’m barefooted, Violet.” She laughed before sitting beside you.

“Here let me even out things,” She said before she removed her shoes and socks, and then threw them away.

“That’s not what I mean,” You said in a tone of frustration, “and that doesn’t even out things since we’re sitting.”

“Come on now, it’s better this way. Now go talk your heart out, Green.” She looked at you. Those eyes of hers, expecting something to come out of your mouth—the story of your shade of green.

She was really pushy(2).

“You go first, then I will go.” You smirked at her and she just pouted before breaking eye contact and looking at the sky.

“How about we play a game, Green? Let’s take turns, I’ll answer your question and then you answer mine. So that it’s fair, right?” She smiled in between her sentences.

“Sure, I’ll go first,” you quickly said and she just side-eyed in response before nodding and looking up again to the sky—that dark empty sky.

“What does Green, Purple, or Violet mean? Colors, what do colors mean?” You asked her. You could always see them everywhere but didn't really know what they meant. What do they mean? How could she even tell you could see them?

She snickered at your question, “You can see them but don’t know what they mean? You’re funny and weird.”

“I’m the one who is asking here, Miss.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll answer,” she said as she gestured as if she was grabbing something in the sky above her, “Green means disgust, and Purple is fear. Violet is still fear, but I guess for me, it is sadness mixed with little bits of anger. You know what’s funny, violet is made with more blue than red, and purple is just more red than blue. They, Purple and Violet are basically the same thing but they mean differently.”

Her explanation had raised questions. What she said wasn't clear honestly, but you just listened intently.

Her words… were just like she was yapping about something but they held meaning. 

“So if red is anger, and blue is sadness. Then Purple, do they root from anger and sadness? Does that mean you’re overwhelmed by anger but were slapped with the reality and blueness of not being able to do anything with that fear? Hence, maybe that’s why you’re afraid. What does Violet even mean then, when you’re too sad but also a little bit angry?” She lowered her fist and looked at it intently before opening it. 

She grabbed nothing out of the vast dark sky but there was something.

“You’re being unfair, you already asked three questions you know,” you smiled unknowingly as you watched her. “Anyways, I think you’re right though. There is nothing to be afraid of if you are happy.”

“Yellow?” She cut.

“Yes, yellow maybe as you said. Hence, fear is rooted in sadness, but sadness is just not enough. Maybe that’s why we need anger to experience fear. Sadness from the helplessness and anger from the hopelessness. Which do you prefer though? Violet or Purple?”

Once again, she looked at you straight in the eyes and something way beyond your eyes.

Perhaps the colors? Or maybe your soul?

“I prefer Violet, I already said that to you earlier. I think I’m violet… I wish I could be Violet, Green. What do you think? What am I?”

“Okay, Violet, I guess you’re too sad then, but I think you’re more purple. But I’ll keep calling you Violet 'cause violets are nice.” You smiled at her.

“Why?” She asked quickly.

“Because violet. Suppose you become more than just a violet. Let’s say super? Ultra?” 

She smiled. 

“Ultra-violet is all the colors at full brightness,” you joked.

“Haha, Ultra-violet? That’s so weird!” She exclaimed as she stood before once again looking up in the sky.

“Look who's talking, calling someone else weird,” you teased back. 

“Just ask your question, don’t forget about it.”

“I don’t know, I’ll ask later, Green. I’ll reserve my question for later.”

“Green? I don’t think green means disgust, but rather disappointment. Yellow is Happiness?  Green is made with blue and yellow, and all I can think about with that combination is disappointment. I don’t think you’re wrong though, Green might as well be disgust.”

“Why?” She asked and stood up beside her.

“Because I hate, myself.

Because I’m disgusted by myself.”

“That’s why you’re green.” She commented almost too quickly. “Why are you disgusted by yourself?”

“Hold your horses, it’s my turn to ask.” She smiled in acknowledgment.

“What are you so afraid of?”

And for the first time tonight, she didn’t look goofy, and she wasn’t smiling without any care in the world. There was violet, there was purple in her eyes. You suddenly remembered her shaking hands earlier, so you instinctively held her hands.

There were shaking. 

She held your hand tightly and said,

“I’m afraid of dying.”

“Why?”

She smiled, “Hold your horses, it’s my turn to ask a question.”

“Touche, Violet.”

You tried to let go of her hand but she intertwined hers with yours instead.

“Answer my why first.”

“I started to believe, that’s all.” 

“And?”

“I started to loathe, and I started losing love for myself.”

“What was it that made you believe? What do you believe in?” She asked continuously. Now the game was getting more interesting.

You smirked, “My turn to ask a question.”

“Aish, go ahead.”

“Why are you afraid of dying?”

She laughed and smiled again, and for some reason, it looked and sounded forced—there was sorrow behind her smile and laugh.

“That’s simple, because I’ll die,” she stated nonchalantly as if it was the most obvious thing to say. Does she have some kind of illness? A terminally ill patient? She looked rather healthy honestly.

“Come on now, everyone will die sooner or later.”

“Yup, you’re right.”

That was when you saw, something unforgettable that would haunt you forever—may that be in a bad way or a good way. 

It was her smile.

Different from the one she did before, it was the brightest. It wasn’t white or yellow, but rather was violet. It was something beyond beauty. And it wasn’t because of how the sides of her lips or the way her cheeks puffed or the way her eyes smiled along with her lips.

But it was the genuineness of it.

Her smile was filled with sorrow. 

Her smile harbored acceptance for something beyond what you knew about her.

Her smile hinted reds of regret.

Her smile was not just blue.

It was violet.

“Ul—” 

“I’ll die tomorrow, Green,” she cut as she let go of your hand and took a few steps forward.

You could no longer see her smile, or if she was still smiling even. You stare at her back while trying to process what she just said.

Her die? Tomorrow?

That ridiculous.

“Come on don’t joke around, you’re not terminally ill, are you?” You asked worriedly but she laughed once again...

“Is that a question? You're funny, I'm not sick or ill.”

If not that then…

“Are you gonna kill yourself?” she looked back, her smile wasn't there anymore.

“It’s not your turn to ask a que—”

“Forget about the stupid game! Answer the fucking question! Are you gonna kill yourself or not?” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill myself,” She answered rather quickly and surely.

“Don’t ever kill yourself,” you said sternly, and she responded by holding out her pinky finger.

“I won’t kill myself, I promise.” She wiggled her finger, tempting you to take it. You took it, and she locked on it before playfully pressing her thumb onto yours.

“Why do you even care?” She teased as she broke the lock between your pinky fingers and quickly intertwined her hands instead, “You have to answer two questions in a row now, you took two turns earlier. I won’t let go of you until you do.”

You held her hand tightly.

“My best friend killed herself.” You almost choked out of your words. 

“That’s why, so don’t kill yourself, and don’t ever kill yourself. 

I don’t ever want someone I know to kill themselves again,  because I’ll actually start to believe it, and maybe, I might just end up going after them...”

“What exactly is it?”

“That's your second question,” you said as you smiled at her.

“Yes it is, but this time you don't have to answer if you're uncomfortable.” 

She smiled back.

“Because everyone blames me for her death, and today, I visited her grave for the first time. I went away. I wasn't there for her funeral after all so I visited and I couldn't do so for the longest time… because I was afraid. I thought I didn't deserve to visit her until I… I was finally able to make our wish come true but—”

You bit your lip, as you felt all of it, the memories, the emotions, and the trauma weigh down on your shoulders.

“but when I came to her grave… her Mom was there, and she… she said that…

I didn't change.

I was still the same monster who drove her daughter to kill herself.

I… they all said it before. That it was because of me.

And now I'm starting to believe it.

So you're right…

I’m green.

I’m disgusted by who I am.”

Tears started flowing. Words were said. Everything came gushing out. All of those that were heavy were released.

You just wept and cried.

*SLAP

“Hey, it’s not your fault.” 

As the pain registered, it went silent—it went monochrome. 

There were only her eyes and her mouth saying the words. 

“It’s not your fault,” she repeated.

“I —I kn—know,” you struggled.

“It's not your fault,” once again as she caressed the cheek she slapped.

“I know and I tried, but—”

“Whatever it is, whatever you did. It’s not your fault.” she cut.

“But! Sometimes or most of the time, there are voices in my head saying how it's my fault that she had died. That I was the one who,” you bit your lip, “That they are right.”

“And I! Most of the time, I tell myself that they are not wrong for saying that.

So I… yes…  I hate myself. 

I am utterly disgusted by my own being.”

Green.

She pulled you into a hug and for one last time she said, “It’s not your fault.”

“So where did you lose your shoes?” she asked jokingly and you just bursted out laughing while tears flew down your cheeks. 

“You are taking advantage of this, are you? That is your third question.”

She giggled.

“Come on, tell me about it.”

“You know,  we probably look weird like this. Hugging in the middle of the streets and crying and laughing.”

“Do you want me to let go?”

Honestly no… 

There was this kind of comfort and discomfort being engulfed by her arms. 

Why would you let a complete stranger hug you like this? 

A complete stranger saying the words you wanted to hear the most? 

“Haha, I forgot about it…  my shoes. I just ran and later realized that I didn't have one.” 

“Here, I’ll give you this instead.” She broke the hug to reach for something from her pockets and took out a violet pen. 

“Always keep this with you and don’t ever lose it.”

“What's this? A kid toy pen? It doesn’t even work.” You tried it on your hand but the pen didn't have any ink. 

“Haha, it's my treasure so take care of it.”

“I will.” You kept it inside your pocket, replacing the cigarette from before.

“So tell me? What do we do now?” You asked her.

She took a few steps, before looking back.

“What else? We keep playing the game, Green.” She said as she held out her hand. 

“Come, walk me home?”

You took it.

“Where are we even? Do you even know from all that running?” She took her steps and you followed her.

“Of course, are you not from around here?”

Once again, upon these empty streets illuminated only by white street lights, you two walked barefooted as if it was the most normal thing ever, grabbing the cold pavement while relishing the strange comfort of each other’s company. 

“No, my best friend's parents decided they were going to bury her here, in their hometown so I came here to visit, but I can just look at my phone—” you patted your pockets to look for your phone only to find out that.

“I don’t have it!” you said surprised upon the realization of this predicament.

“I lost my phone,” you said to her but she just shrugged.

“Can I borrow yours?” 

“I don’t have one,” she replied as she noticed the worried look you had.

“Maybe it's in the graveyard? Do you wanna come and get it?” She asked.

“No way! It's too late and there's no way I’m going to a graveyard this late. Aish, we don't even know what time exactly it is.”

She just laughed and you just sighed in defeat. Of course, you at least knew how you got to the graveyard from your accommodation, and how to get out of town, but you had been wondering without any care for some ample time, the running and now walking with this violet stranger girl seemed to have led you to someplace you had no idea about. Of course, this also means you didn't know how to get to the place you were residing at.  You just know too little about this town and it was harder in the dark.

“Scaredy Cat, it's not that scary.”

She knows where things are, maybe you could ask her. You sighed in defeat. 

“Let's just go, I will walk you home, and just give me directions to my shared house and then I hope I can figure the way.”

The walk by itself was uneventful, after all that happened and the things that you two shared about each other, the silence was a breath of fresh air. Her silence was odd, but everything was honestly odd about her so... 

The girl you call Violet just has too many questions surrounding her. 

She was a mystery.

A single-colored mystery

“What were you even doing out this late at night?” You looked at her hand, the one you were still holding.

“Hmm,” she pointed at her temple, “I was taking a walk?”

She joked and you bumped at her playfully.

“I wanted to feel the air.

I wanted to see the stars. 

I wanted to see those white streetlights, 

those colorful store signage, 

those lost souls colored uniquely on their own. 

I wanted to see the town.

Many more.” She smiled but her tone was filled with blues, yellows, and a new color, you had seen for the first time, orange.

What is orange?

“You’re being weird again, Violet.” you didn’t what to say so you just said the first sorry banter you thought of.

“But hey, I got to meet you, Green.” She looked at you, smiled and it was yellow.

You blushed…

She was strange.

She was weird.

But she had a smile that could not be described by just the words beautiful, pretty, or attractive.

Her smile was colorful.

“I don’t know, I think I was unlucky that I met you,” she punched you and pouted cutely. “Haha, I’m just kidding, I’m glad you found me.”

Yes, the word was found.

She found you.

“I can’t even imagine what could have happened to me if you didn’t do what you did.” You smiled.

“So thank you, Violet.”

Her eyes widened in shock, and her cheeks turned rosy. Is she blushing?

“Oh shush, don’t mention it.” She smacked your shoulders. She’s shy?! This girl…

“You looked green.” That was maybe her own way of saying You look like you needed help.

“We’re here.” You weren’t really paying attention and you just followed her so you didn't notice until you looked around to find out you two stopped in front of a massive gate, and from afar, you could an even more enormous mansion fitting the massive gate.

On the gate, you noticed circular geometric patterns, but you didn’t think much of them.

“This is your house?” you asked her and she just nodded.

“This is my family’s. My sisters and I live here,” she explained and you nodded in response. You also told her the name of your accommodation and asked for directions but she just…  shrugged… 

You couldn't believe it… there was no way.

You would have no choice but to sleep in the streets. 

“You could stay here if you want?” she offered. 

“I don’t th—”

“Lee Gahyeon!” a voice cut came from the other side of the gate before you could finish. From afar, you saw a figure of a woman. She was walking towards the two of you. 

“Lee Gahyeon?”

“That’s my name, Green.”

When the figure was finally in sight it revealed an elegant woman wearing a pure white night 

gown. Red lips, sharp nose, and lazy hazy eyes of a predator. 

“That’s my sister, Kim Minji,” Gahyeon whispered as the said woman opened the massive gate of the mansion.

She was gray.

“Your sister looks really attractive, Vio—” she elbowed you and you just giggled. Kim? They are sisters, right? 

“Where have you been?” she asked her before looking at you up and down. “And who is this gentleman?” 

A strict mom? Wait, she’s her sister. 

“I just took a night stroll, we took a night stroll,” she answered as she hugged your arm. 

“He’s my boyfriend,” she added, which made your eyes widen. 

“I see… A stroll, without shoes. A boyfriend without shoes,” She pointed out. The older sister stared at you as if she was waiting for you to say something. 

“Hi—hi! O—older Sister, I’m,” you stuttered as you introduced yourself. You held out your hand for a handshake but the older woman ignored it and turned around. 

“Come Gahyeon, it's late. We should rest, everyone has already retreated to their rooms.” The older gestured for the younger to come. 

“JiU-unnie wait. ” This halted the older and looked back. “Can he stay? He has nowhere to go right now and it's too late.”

“We don't have any guest rooms ready so just show him to Father’s bedroom. Let him borrow his clothes and… shoes.” Minji continued walking towards the manor while Gahyeon dragged you.

“Violet, is this okay?”

“Yup don’t worry, if she says it's fine then it's fine. JiU is the oldest amongst us 7 and she's the leader so what she says goes, and besides, it's the least she could do.” you sighed in defeat.

“The least she could do?”

“Yes! I mean her youngest sister brought home a man for the first time, the least she could do is to make him feel at home and give him some shoes.” she pointed at your toes before dragging you to go inside the mansion.

What’s with them and toes… and shoes…

The place was quite big so it took a while to even go to the front door of the mansion. It made you wonder, where did the older woman walking a few meters in front of you and Gahyeon. You saw a gazebo near the gate so maybe that was wear Minji was hanging out while she was waiting for Gahyeon? Alone, that late at night?

Along the way, you saw a vast green field lit by post lamps, well-kept plants and flowerbeds, and a few marble angel statues holding some sort of ornament with patterns similar to the ones on the gate. It was creepy looking at them so you tried to ignore them up until you arrived at the front door. Although, it was hard not to notice as even the front door had them engraved.

“Violet, what are those?” you pointed at the door.

“Those are dreamcatchers, you’ll see them everywhere,” Minji explained instead of Gahyeon.  

“They are all valuable so don’t touch them,” Gahyeon added before guiding you inside the mansion. 

The word magnificent wasn't enough to describe it. If only there were a word for something terrifying yet grandiose. It was only the entrance, where you were greeted by a massive grand oval staircase solely lit by a crystal chandelier. Angels on both the left and right ends of the staircase, each holding their own dreamcatcher. 

The light from the chandelier was not enough to illuminate the whole place, but it was enough for you to see the place with the sunroof helping with a little bit of illumination from the moon.

Minji was right, they were everywhere from the patterns of the stair railings, to many of them hanging in the ceiling, railings, and walls. Even the crystals of the chandelier looked like individual dreamcatchers on their own. 

The open space was big enough to be a function hall. At the end of it, there was a hall with what seemed to be full rooms. Similar to the one in the middle, the left and right way had a hall passage leading to parts of the mansion that you haven’t seen yet.

The place had at least three floors but it seemed like the grand staircase connected only the first and second floors but you could see a third floor from the open space above. As you looked up again, there seemed to be a silhouette looking at the three of you.

“Someone is up there,” you pointed out to the two women.

“Probably one of our sisters,” Gahyeon answered.

“Come on, I’ll take you to Father’s bedroom.” Gahyeon took your hand again and you just followed her.

“Are there elevators in this massive place?” You asked them.

“What’s that?” Gahyeon asked back sincerely as if she had never seen an elevator before.

“Really?” You asked back, but she laughed loudly.

“Gahyeon, please not be too loud,” Minji 

“Of course, I know what an elevator is. We just don’t have one. My father is an old-school grandpa so he didn’t like technology so much,” Gahyeon joked.

Come to think of it, she also didn’t have a cellphone.

Soon Minji headed for her room and you two headed for their Father’s bedroom. You assumed that their father was not in the mansion because they were renting his bedroom away, but you didn’t ask about it because it might be a sensitive topic.

The room was just as you had imagined but it didn’t fail to impress you. It was the master bedroom—a king-size bed, a walk-in closet full of unbranded tailored clothes, shoes, and accessories, a bathroom of its own, and other things that screamed wealth. Gahyeon had let you borrow most of it. It was embarrassing being treated so well, but she firmly assured you it was okay.

When you came out of the bathroom after freshening up, you looked at the balcony,  where you found her watching the night sky. For a moment, you stared at her before she noticed you, smiled at you and gestured for you to join her. You thought to yourself as you walked towards her that she finally looked like the color she wanted to become. Violet.

Maybe more than that.

Ultra-violet.

“I’m your boyfriend?” you teased her as you leaned on the balcony railings. You stared at her while she continued watching the stars and the moon. Beautiful. You thought to yourself. It was picturesque, her glowing under the moonlight.

“Why do you not want to? Is this my first rejection?” She giggled.

“Wow, you’re just gonna turn me into a heartbreaker if I say no?”

Any guy would want to be hers. You were sure of it. You were not even sure if she was serious about the boyfriend thing. It was just an excuse to let her older sister let you inside the mansion. She was kind like that.

“I’m serious, be my boyfriend,” She declared as she slowly inched towards you until she was close… too close.

“Do you love me?” You asked, even though you knew what was the answer.

Her violet turned into pink. Weird.

“Hmm, I find you interesting and I think you’re cute. I like you, but I don’t think I love you yet,” She explained as you backed down a few steps away from her.

“How about you, Green? Do you love me?” She threw the question right back at you.

It feel like you two were playing the game again.

“You’re be—beautiful… You’re re—really nice. Kind. Although you’re kinda odd and weird, I think any man would fall in love with you.” She inched forward, once again in an uncomfortable distance. 

Yellow. 

Was your eye tricking you?

“I would love to be your boyfriend, but I don’t think it’s the right time to do so,” you blurted out nervously. She pouted. She smiled differently—almost bittersweetly.

Also, how could one truly love someone when one only has hate for themselves?

“Aish, what a heartbreaker.” She flicked your forehead before running inside the room.

Now once again, her usual Violet.

“Hey! What was that for?” You chased after, but she ran circles around you, outmaneuvering you using her speed, by throwing throw pillows at you or putting distance between the two of you using the furniture. You didn’t even know what you were going to do once you caught her but you kept chasing.

Up until she stepped into one of the pillows she threw earlier and slipped. Time slowed down, and in that moment, you tried to break her fall or maybe catch her from an impending disaster. You couldn’t catch her. Thankfully, she didn’t hit her head and instead, she fell onto the bed. You sighed in relief when you saw that she wasn’t hurt in any way. But there was something strange. Her cheeks turned rosy. She had let out a strange noise.

“I’m no longer pure,” she whispered… What did she mean by that? 

That was when you realized, you fell into a position where you could only see in dramas or animations, a girl accidentally falling and the boy trying to catch her only to end up in an awkward position.

Maybe, fate was rather playful at that point as you felt your body press onto her. You could feel her soft body on yours, and her face… she was too close. Gahyeon was so close that it was only an inch keeping you two away from kissing. Luckily, it wasn’t that cringe trope where the guy accidentally grabbed the woman’s breast, but luck couldn’t suppress biology as your body reacted embarrassingly. 

“Green, your thing… is pressing against me,” Gahyeon said shyly to which you quickly responded by jumping out of that position.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it! It’s a natural thing!” You reasoned out, but she just laughed as she fixed herself.

“Pervert,” She whispered into your ear before kissing you on the cheek.

“Haha, you’re blushing, Green!” She teased as she walked to the door.

“That’s what you get for rejecting me,” Gahyeon said before leaving you speechless inside that massive room.

What?! 

Why did she do that?!

What’s with her?!

You had so many questions, but you just retreated to the bed. So much happened, and meeting Gahyeon somehow made it bearable and for a moment you forget about all those hardships. 

Gahyeon/Violet was really an oddball.

“Ultra-violet,” you muttered to yourself.

Maybe it was worth trying again at this complicated colorful life. 

Somehow, it not being monochrome was great as before it once had her, and now it has Violet.

Tomorrow would be a great day, you thought to yourself before closing your eyes.

What kind of questions should you ask her tomorrow?

The next day came full of anticipation. The questions still lingered. 

Her kiss. 

Her smile.

Her color.

That brightness. 

They all lingered.

You opened the door of the master room only to be greeted by the warmth of the bright yellow sun. The sunroof filled the mansion with natural light. Light creates the ambiance of the place, as well as the expression of the structure. The wealthy took this to heart. What kind of family do they even have to afford this?

This place wasn’t so creepy after all. The marble statues, and the dreamcatchers. Maybe the dark tense vibe of the night made it creepy. The master room/Gahyeon’s father's room was located on the third floor and the fact that the mansion was vast meant it was a trip to even to the second floor.

You hummed as you walked and tried to reflect on what happened yesterday. You remembered Gahyeon’s pen, you remember putting it inside your pockets. You checked if it was still there, and to your surprise, something else was inside your pocket.

A note that said the following:

“Don’t trust anyone. Don’t keep this note. Swallow it.”

Chills went down your spine. What does this even mean? Is this a prank?

“AHH!” a scream came from below. The first floor. 

Does this mean the note is not a prank? 

What’s happening?

Before you could even think straight, you just did as the note said. You crumpled it and swallowed it whole before heading to the first floor. Suddenly, you remembered something from yesterday.

“I’ll die tomorrow, Green.” 

You completely forgot about what she said. Your steps became heavier, but you found yourself running the flight of stairs.

Hearts were booming. Imagination was going wild. Anxiety kicked in.

It only got worse when you arrived at the grand staircase when you saw something hanging off the chandelier. The steps felt endless. You closed your eyes. You could only wish that your eyes were lying to you.

It’s not real, right?

Open your eyes. Look again.

Her smile.

Her color.

You reached the bottom.

That was when the high came crashing down as you looked at a scene that would haunt you forever. It hit hard before, but it hit harder today. Your hope was quite literally hanging in front of your eyes. It didn’t crash down. It floated, and it would never reach the ground.

That was when the colors faded.

There was so much to ask.

But there was no more chance.

A game played by one person would not be fun at all.

It was your turn after all.

Ask the question.

As your tears flew down your cheeks endlessly, they were crawling slowly from behind, hugging you. A weight on your shoulders. A blow of air right beside your ear whispered. It was a feeling you know of too much already.

Her hugs.

The way she held your hand.

The way her lips curved when she smiled.

Her bright color.

“It’s your turn, Green.” That was her sweet kind voice, but how could it be? How could it be her when she was literally hanging in front of your eyes?

“Violet,” you called her name, “who killed you?”

The game continues.

-

This is for a good friend of mine. Thank you for waiting for this after so many months of hiatus.

Not as good as I was and maybe too many errors but here it is.

[sapphixxx]

there's a lot of reasons more people aren't into yuri that are troubling to consider, but equally, I genuinely think it cannot be understated how much of it comes down to most yuri being boring as hell. Like truly. I've been reading the front page of Dynasty Scans like it was the newspaper for 15 years I am not exaggerating I can show you the download file data 15 years.

You know what the complaint about yuri by yuri readers was back in 2009?

"wow that really was just 5 volumes of them blushing at each other and then they don't even kiss"

You know what the complaint about yuri by yuri readers is today in 2023?

"wow that really was just 5 volumes of them blushing at each other and then they don't even kiss"

Don't get me wrong, Yuri has grown a LOT in that time, to the point that most people today wouldn't even understand a Maria-sama reference if it were dropped in front of them (thank God). It's expanded and evolved to encompass more stories about adult women, wider varieties of scenarios, a greater acknowledgement of real life lesbianism, and is more comfortable showing girls kissing with tongue and having sex.

Yuri Manga is maybe the best is it's ever been, and it's also getting the widest readership it's ever had in the English speaking world. The titles we carry at work are always on back order with long queues, and, when I've asked them, most weebs of all gender or sexualities report keeping up with at least a few Yuri series.

At large though? Most of it is still really boring. That's not a bad thing necessarily. I like it because it goes down easy. For the most part any series you pick is gonna be pretty chill. Even shit from Sal Jiang which is PRETTY EDGY for yuri is a pretty breezy read. More serious ones like How Do We Relationship? cover some pretty real subjects about how intimacy is actually quite difficult even when both of you love each other, but it's not like... Exciting. Yuri isn't where you go to pump your fist or get perched on the edge of your seat.

So when the comparison is made to yaoi, well, I mean, have you READ any yaoi? Even in some of the more restrained titles those boys are likely to be sucking and fucking balls and all within the first volume or two. There's gonna be drama, intrigue, shit is gonna get messy, passions are gonna get heated, clothes are gonna be ripped off, people are gonna get sold to One Direction, it's stuff you can sit down with a bowl of popcorn with you know? Stuff you can message your friend and gush Hey Can You BELIEVE? A lot of it is pretty trashy, but that's the appeal. The generic state of yaoi is torrid and exciting and sexy. Ultimately, as a species many of us like to see pretty people fuck. In yaoi you'll get that. In yuri you won't. Nothing wrong with that, but it is gonna be a major contributing factor to their relative popularity.

It's also worth making the comparison to hetero romance manga, which has undergone a renaissance of it's own in recent years. There's now a whole meta around crafting a handful of mean shitty grouchy dysfunctional bully women and flinging them at the protagonist of the day who, unlike in years past, may actually have a face and personality. Most of these are also very trashy and truly scrape the bottom of the bucket in terms of writing.

AND YET?

I would bet money on the fact that you'll have heard of these women and probably even have a good idea what they're like without ever having touched a page of their manga.

I'm sorry but the straights are whipping donuts around the yuri girls in terms of delivering a wide variety of weird compelling fucked up women. How many yuri leading ladies by comparison can you point to as standout recognizable characters even divorced from their story? There's definitely a few, but not many. I'm not talking quality or depth of writing, I'm talking straight up pure recognizability. There are many beautifully written women in yuri, now more than ever. I can't think of many who'd like, get a figure made or have their face splashed on merch, though.

I don't really have a conclusion here. I love Yuri a lot, but at the end of the day this is just kinda the state of things right now.

[crossdressingdeath]

I'm thinking about Karlach and in particular her relationship with Gortash, and the more I think about it the more I really wish that she'd known he was a Banite from the start, or at least for a good chunk of her time working for him. I mean, the canon story of "I didn't know what he was, he lied to me and I didn't realize the truth until he stabbed me in the back" doesn't not work? It just feels like a very... safe option. Now, I love Karlach, I really do, she's a joy to be around. But I don't know, the whole "I didn't know what they were doing" method of letting a wonderful person work for the bad guys has been done. It's been done a lot. And it also makes Karlach feel less morally complex than the other origin companions to me! I mean, it's entirely possible she didn't even know Gortash was a criminal; his public persona would require bodyguards too. So if we assume that she didn't even know he was a criminal then her moral complexity is limited to having some friends who are devils and wanting Gortash dead, which... even just by general fantasy standards and especially when compared to characters like Astarion, Shadowheart and Lae'zel (as the most obvious examples, but personally I also find Wyll's pact with Mizora and Gale getting the orb at least as complex if not more and they didn't work for the villain, so that feels like a bit of a problem) is very straightforward. She's good. Maybe she used to be a bit naive and then learned not to be so blindly trusting through betrayal. Sure. Fine. Personally I do not find that particularly compelling, if I just saw her backstory written out without the super hard work of her writer and VA in the rest of the game my reaction to her would basically just be "Eh". And if we assume she did know he was a criminal then it feels kind of weak that the only time that even vaguely comes up is Gortash potentially making one comment about how Karlach knew what he was and shouldn't really have been surprised.

Also, an additional point, the fact that supposedly Gortash was putting enough work into keeping her ignorant that there was a noticeable drop in his ethics after he sold her is... kind of weird, because the only reason we're given for it is "He liked her"? To be clear the fact that he liked her isn't the problem, we know Gortash is perfectly capable of liking people. But... he went out of his way to deceive this one employee? To the point that people noticed a change when he was gone? Or alternately selling her specifically actively made him significantly worse, which... would also be kind of weird. There isn't even any particular reason for him to see himself in her, other than the Lower City upbringing they had very little in common before Gortash sold her (unless baby Enver was way better of a person than his current self would suggest). I feel like if Larian was going to justify Karlach apparently not realizing she was working for an arms dealer and slave trader as his personal bodyguard (so someone who'd logically be around for a lot of shady shit or frankly what is the point of her being on the payroll) with "he lied to her" more needed to be done with it.

But if she knew he was a Banite and knew what he was doing for a good chunk of the time she spent working with him that adds a tasty "I didn't think the leopards would eat my face!" energy to the whole situation! I love the idea of Karlach liking and trusting Gortash despite knowing what he was because he treated her with respect and that was all that mattered! Obviously this is subjective, I will freely admit I like my characters with a bit more moral greyness than Karlach shows, but to me at least her reassessing and improving her morals from a standpoint of "Him liking me and respecting me wasn't enough to save me because other people's lives do not matter to him" would be much more interesting than her being a perfectly lovely person from the start and not knowing what her boss was doing and getting betrayed and then continuing to be a perfectly lovely person. (I'm not going to claim that a person's morals improving when the thing they did to others is done to them is particularly ground-breaking, but I would argue it's no less ground-breaking than "they didn't know and were good all along and their boss was lying to them" and to me at least it's significantly more engaging.) And it would also neatly remove the question of why Gortash cared enough to lie about what he was doing to this one specific employee from day one (so before he could bond with her at all), which. y'know, would be nice.

[deconstructthesoup]

Thinking about it now, I think the thing that was kind of a curveball for me about Nerdy Prudes that's obvious in hindsight is that... Grace and her parents have a very loving relationship.

Don't get me wrong, Karen and Mark are still exactly the type of people who I wouldn't want to meet in real life. They're super conservative, they're ridiculously set in their ways, they think that seeing PG movies and carrying each other's books is scandalous, and the lessons that they've instilled in her daughter have clearly messed her up---she thinks that touching herself and lying to the police is the worst thing that she could've done even after she unintentionally gets Max killed and then covers it up, and something as inane and subjective as her virginity is what she cherishes above her family, which is insane. But honestly, I did expect Karen and Mark to be unbelievably strict towards Grace, and for her to be visibly tired with all the pressure.

Instead, Karen and Mark think that Grace is their little angel who can do no wrong. They're clearly worried about her once she starts acting off, and Mark actually seems vaguely easygoing for the Chastity standards in terms of letting her off. Even though their values are messed up, and they're pretty much the reason why Grace is the way she is, they're sweet and supportive.

Which makes so much sense for Grace. Obviously she wouldn't be so high-strung and uptight if she resented her parents. Obviously she wouldn't parrot everything they say if they were horrible to her. She has to have a great relationship with her parents, or she wouldn't be Grace Chastity, Nerdy Prude. Beyond that, that gives the relationship nuance! Karen and Mark can have unhealthy values that messed Grace up and made her go off the deep end over one sexual fantasy, and they can also absolutely adore their daughter and implicitly trust that she's doing what they think is right! It doesn't have to be a clear-cut "they're bad parents" dynamic! They can be good parents to Grace while also having failed her in some very key ways! This is fascinating!

And maybe this is just because they're played by Curt and Kim, who just make every relationship they play better, but it works. It really works. It makes the entire Chastity family so much more fascinating, because it's even more compelling imagining a scenario where Grace goes through positive character development and has to tell her parents that what they taught her is wrong. Can you imagine how hard that would be? Telling your parents, who have been nothing but loving and supportive to you for your whole life, that you're having doubts about what they taught you---and dealing with the very real possibility that all of that love and support could go away once that's out in the open? After years of having an open and honest relationship with them?

Would Karen and Mark not love Grace anymore if she was no longer her teacher's pet, straight-laced, prudish self? Would they kick her out? Would they try and change her? Or would they listen to her, and take the time to be better?

We don't know, because they're complicated. On the surface, they're stereotypical, but peel back the uber-Christian jargon and the 1950's sitcom attitude, and you have two individuals who clearly love each other, and their daughter, very much. Is that love conditional? Who the hell knows? Until Nick and Matt answer us, all we have is speculation!

And that's so! Damn! Fun!

[arimiaromage]

thoughts about dgm chapter 251

gonna throw my thoughts about these new revelations here.

bookman jr or past!allen?

she got us good! I was in shock when I first read it (all my headcanons about pasta, out the window! thrown! chunked!) but now I'm more fine with it.

I believe what happened was that hoshino drew the bookman jr in those flashbacks with nea on purpose - she wanted us to think that was allen and bookman jr. the flashbacks aren't past!allen with longer hair, this is definitely the bookman jr, as we can tell now.

it also makes more sense now why "allen" was talking about high concepts like the spiral being the force for life - it really was a bookman!

I fully think she did this switcharoo on purpose. if we look at her most recent livestream (translated by ponkotsubluuues), someone comments that they were shocked past!allen and bookman jr weren't the same person. her response is basically "yes, I know". she's not surprised people would think that, this was probably deliberately on purpose.

bookman jr & past!allen

okay, now on to some thoughts on who they actually are. I won't stick long here as we'll probably find out in just a few months and we don't have much to go on right now.

personally, I don't really care to ever meet allen's blood relatives. it's never interested me who he's "actually" related to and I always felt it would add even more complicated feelings for him and even more complexity to an already messy as hell family & relationship tree.

that being said, I wouldn't be surprised if bookman jr and allen are some kind of family unit, be it blood related or not. when they begin talking about the two of them as separate people, lucia refers to them as "two young men". so they're probably not father and son, but I could see them as brothers or some sort of brotherhood if they're not blood related.

maybe past!allen is a traveling clown who toured the world with bookman jr LOL.....?

either way, bookman jr was so compelled to protect allen & nea that he gave his life for them. I'm so, so eager to see their bond.

cross marian

who the hell is cross marian in all of this?

we know the cross has been around since almost adam's time, having been with mana and nea since they were children-

so we know that regardless of who is he, he's known about and visited the campbell manor for decades.

in this chapter, they even bring him up by name.

not only does allen ask about him, but lucia talks a bit about him as well.

and note that they're not saying something like "my master left a message for me" and lucia just goes along with it- allen says "my master cross" and lucia continues by saying his full name. she knows exactly who he's talking about.

(allen specifically says "cross shishou" = "master cross" but lucia called him "cross marian")

to me, this is one of the main reasons I don't believe cross is bookman jr. I believe he's somehow tied to the bookman, but I don't think he's the missing jr. if he was, why does lucia refer to him as cross here but not later? she clearly knows who allen is referring to, so wouldn't the bookman have searched for cross and found him with relative ease, given he was at the order for quite a while with bookman & lavi up until apocryphos attacked him?

lucia and the master only refer to bookman jr as "junior", not cross marian. if you're desperately looking for cross marian and are fully aware allen knows who that is, then why not call him that? what do you have to lose at this point?

and furthermore, if cross was this bookman jr, how did he forget who HE made the host? how did he lose allen? redarm!allen looks a lot more like this new past!allen and they both have redish brown hair - if you were traveling with this guy, you should be able to recognize him even if he's de-aged like 8 years, ESPECIALLY once mana takes him in and his hair becomes styled the exact same way.

I know we always have the deus ex machina of apocryphos' memory changing but I really don't want that to be the case for every character, the more you do it the more it becomes a contrivance.

cross definitely has SOME connection to the bookman, I don't feel like his mask and knowledge of bookman things is entirely a red herring. lucia makes it sound like cross reached out to them regarding the campbell manor, but I'll get to that in a bit.

the other leading theory is that cross is cyrus campbell, katerina's brother and head of the family. I feel like this holds a bit more water than him being a bookman, as it'd explain why he was the campbell manor when mana and nea were so young (and presumably before nea became a noah) and why he has worked so tirelessly for both of them.

remember, his innocence maria greatly resembles katerina. it's possible this is katerina's corpse, being infested by innocence. maybe this is from innocence cross was carrying finding its way to her corpse or maybe it was a failed attempt to save her, we don't really know yet.

(I'm not fully convinced about the cyrus theory either though, as why does nea refer to cross as cross instead of cyrus or uncle? how would the order not know about his family and how obviously tied to the noah he is? how could he not recognize allen, his nephew's most trusted friend?)

there have been some theories that maybe the campbells are a bookman family, which may be the case and would help explain why cross has a connection to both, but the way lucia words this part makes me think otherwise.

she makes it sound like the campbell manor wasn't always under their jurisdiction, that it came to be that way but wasn't always. but that might be pulling at straws. I just don't think she'd word it this way if cross = bookman jr.

I'm not fully convinced about either theory about cross as I see holes in both of them. just have to wait and see~

personally I'd still like it if cross was just a childhood friend who got way too attached but we'll see 😂 or maybe he was just pining for katerina from afar....

crown clown

I feel pretty confident now that this is past!allen being hugged by bookman jr, possibly for the last time / as bookman jr's way to protect him.

but I also can't help but feel.... it reminds me of crowned clown, you know? the way it wraps around allen, covering him in an attempt to protect him. even the cut off tips. it really reminds me of that.

the bookman are no stranger to innocence. we also don't know when allen acquired his innocence- did past!allen have it? or...... did bookman jr give it to him as he was dying? did he think it would protect him and nea (and why would he give a noah innocence)?

I would not be surprised if there was some connection between bookman jr and allen's innocence.

allen

I absolutely loved this part.

the pure conviction in his face. no regrets. he finally has a chance to clear up his mind, to cast away the fear he's dealt with for so long about who he actually is. so, so good.

but........ WHO IS ALLEN WALKER????? the burning question. who knows at this point.

I'm very excited to see the next parts, even if it apparently isn't the 35 year flashback (her own words, from the aforementioned livestream) - I assume it'll be a flashback to past!allen meeting nea possibly, or them finding out nea isn't a typical noah, or some major event that happened before shit went down.

yeah that's about it, see yall next time ✌️

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - The Fight

I'm basically a Ruben Dias x Reader factory now 🤣

Summary - Reader and Ruben Dias have a fight before a party.

Enjoy!

"There's no surprise who you're bringing to the party. It's obviously Ruben. I on the other hand am planning on finding my own hubby at the function."

"Is that so?" You laughed. You had been on the phone with your friend Cherry ever since the two of you left work. Now you were at home, getting ready to take a shower and prepare yourself for the party tonight.

"Don't mock me for being excited to attend this V.I.P. party." Cherry chuckled. "Ruben probably brings you to one of these events every weekend."

"You'd be surprised." You said. "Ruben is a pretty quiet guy. He doesn't party like that, or at all for that matter."

"Well he will tonight. What are you wearing?"

"Oh I don't know? I have this cocktail dress that I haven't worn yet. But I warn you it's pretty skimpy."

"Great! I'll wear a skimpy cocktail dress to match you. Which time are you and Ruben arriving?"

"I dunno at ten maybe? Ruben won't be home until eight."

"Alright, I'll see you later then. "

"See you later Cherry."

You got off the phone and jumped right into the shower. There was no need to worry about dinner because there was plenty of leftovers in the fridge. Out of the shower you took your time doing your make up, pampering yourself with all the beauty products that you barley used. Despite liking the quiet lifestyle that you and Ruben had you remember that you hadn't always been like that. Enjoying a night out again would be fun, especially since it was your boss birthday, the chief editor of the magazine you worked at. And she had a habit going all out for parties. It would be fun.

"I'm home!"

"Ruben?"

You heard him calling from the living room. You had just tried out your dress and heels for the night and felt compelled to step out into living room in them. To Rubens surprise of course.

"Wow." He said, eyes darting widely at you. "You look..."

"You like it? It's not too skimpy?"

He shook his head. "Skimpy? Nah. I like skimpy."

"Ruben." You laughed. He dropped everything to get to you, basically ambushing your neck and shoulders with kisses.

"And you smell good too." He groaned. "Why the warm welcome?"

"What do you mean why?"

Ruben stopped kissing you and held you out in front of him. "Did we say we were going to dress up tonight?"

"Ruben I'm not playing dress up. This is my outfit for the party tonight. "

His eyebrows furrowed. "What party?"

You gasped. "My bosses birthday party? Did you forget that it's tonight?"

Ruben looked to come to the realization. "Oh that party." He let go of you and went back to pick up his gym bag from the floor. "Yes that party. I ironed a nice shirt for you to wear but you should probably wait to put it on until after dinner."

Ruben had you trailing his steps into your bedroom,  in a way ignoring what you just said.

"Ruben?"

"Yes baby?" He pocked his head out from the closet where he stood.

"Did you hear what I just said?" You frowned. He was leaving you hanging for some reason.

"Yes and about that party." Ruben stuffed his things in the closet before closing it and turning back to you. "I don't think I wanna go to that."

"You what? But you said you would."

"I know what I said, I just don't feel like it anymore. You know how it is."

"No I don't. Feel free to explain." You folded your arms.

Ruben sighed. "It's been a long day Y/N. I rather rest on the couch with you.  Put on a good movie or something? "

"But Ruben we do that every night. I was really excited to go to this party with you."

"Sorry." He shrugged and moved past you.

"Sorry? That's all you have to say for yourself?" You were quick to follow him into the living room, feeling your heart raise as you did."

"I'm very sorry?" He took a seat on the couch, stretching for the TV remote. However you stepped in front of the screen, blocking the signal.

"Y/N?" He frowned.

"Ruben, I let you drag me with you to all of your events. Can't you just attend this one with me? I mean my boss and all of my friends are going to be there."

"I never force you to come with me to any of my events. That's your choice." Ruben said his voice bit agitated.

"Yes, that's my choice as your girlfriend to come with you. Can't it be your choice as my boyfriend to come with me?"

"No." He said, without a second thought.

"Ruben?" Your hands fell to your side, a bit hurt by his remorseful response.

"I'm sorry baby, but I said I didn't want to go."

"You never want to go anywhere!" You shouted, stunning Ruben by the fact. "At least not anywhere I want to go."

"Y/N?" Ruben stood. He looked sorry to have upset you. "Let's not fight." He said, stretching for your arm. However you pulled away. Not wanting him to touch you.

"Y/N?"

You shook your head. "I'm going to that party. I promised Cherry I'd meet her there and when we make promises to each other we keep them."

"Y/N." Ryben sighed. "I didn't mean to..."

You took a step back as he took a step forward.

"Y/N, please." He seemed desperate to touch you but you kept moving away from him. The two of you ended up in the kitchen, where you grabbed your keys and purse from the counter.

"There's leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry." You muttered.

"Y/N." Ruben realized what was happening, that you were leaving him.

"I'll ask Cherry to take me home after the party, so don't wait up for me."

"Y/N, please don't go. I'm sorry, but please don't..."

"You know..." You said this with a hand to Rubens face, silencing his attempt to apologize to you. "...I understand your need to rest and recover and all, but I actually thought you would do this for me. I guess I was wrong."

"Baby?"

You turned your back on him, heading towards the door.

"Baby wait, I'm..."

You slammed the door in his face before he could manage to squeeze out yet another heartless apology. You were going to that party with or without him.

"I'm so sorry about Ruben" Cherry said, as the two of you met up for the party at the rooft bar of the fanciest hotel in Manchester. You told her about the fight you had with Ruben before you left. "Here, let me you buy you another drink." She said, snatching the empty glass from your hand.

Your attempt to enjoy the night had failed. You couldn't get the thought of Ruben out of your mind. You were still angry with him for not coming. But you were probably more upset by the way you left things. You and Ruben hardly argued with each other and when you did it simply left you heartbroken.

"Now tell me why a beautiful girl like you is sitting alone in a place like this?"

You were startled a little by the guy who suddenly approached you. He wore a blue suit with a red tie and his har was slick back with alot of gel, too much gel for your liking.

"I...I'm just waiting for a friend." You stuttured.

"A boyfriend?" He asked, raising a brow.

You shook your head. "Just my friend."

"Good." He said and sat down next you.

You looked towards the bar where Cherry went, unfortunately she was nowhere to be find at that moment. "Great." You thought.

"What's your name?" The guy asked. He was big and tall, but not nearly as big and tall as Ruben, who you really wish was here to save you right now.

"Y/N " You said in a manner of business.

"Nice to meet you Y/N. I'm Raul."

"Hi." You muttered, not really in the mood to chat with anybody right now.

"I'd like to buy you a drink if that's okay with you?" He said, eyes wandering freely across your chest.

"Actually my friend is getting me a drink as we speak." You pointed to the bar. Raul looked in the same direction but was unsure at whom you were referring to.

"Right, your friend." He said. "Does she bring you here often?" He said, referring to the rooftop bar.

"No, but my boyfriend does." You just had to mention that you had one for the guy not to get the wrong idea. His eyebrows rose in surprise.

"I see. But where is he now since you said you were here with your friend?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "At home, watching a movie or somethin?"

"And he left you to go out by yourself looking like that?" The man continued to eye your skimpy cocktail dress.

You chuckled. "I guess he kind of did."

"What a fool, no? If you were my girl I'd never leave you out of my sight not even for a minute. You can tell him I said that."

"Thanks but I don't think my boyfriend..."

"No need." A voice said behind you.

You turned around in suprise. There he stood.

"Ruben?"

He wore a pair of jeans and the beige sweater that you originally picked out for him to wear.

"What are you doing here?"

Ruben didn't answer you but kept his narrowed gaze at the guy occupying the stool next to you. That's when Cherry appeared behind Rubens shoulders with two flutes of champagne in her hands.

"Sorry that I took so long. Your boyfriend called me on my way to the bar, asking about the adress to the party. I had to text him the details so he could come here." She said.

You turned to Ruben. "You did? Why?"

His expression softened shifting away his gaze from the man sitting next to you.

"I'm sorry baby. It was stupid of me not to come with you in the first place."

"I'll say." The man beside you coughed.

"Can you...." Ruben curled his lip. That was Cherry's cue to help me get rid of the guy, offering him a drink at the bar.

It was just you and Ruben now. You still couldn't believe that he came.

"You shouldn't feel forced to do something that you don't want to do Ruben. I'm sorry if that's how I made you feel."

He shook his head and grabbed your hands. "No. I want it to be me you bring to these types of things. I'm mean I wouldn't want anybody else but you to be my date. And I should have understood that earlier."

"Oh Ruben." You clinged onto his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

He spoke against your lips. "If you want me to dance, I'll dance, even if I'm shit at it. I'd do anything for you Y/N. I made a mistake of making you think otherwise."

"Oh Ruben. You don't have to do anything for me."

He wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting your heels from the ground, twirling you around a bit.

"But I do." He whispered. "Because I love you. "

"I love you too."

"Let's not ever fight again."

"I agree."

[baldursgat3]

Well I was bored so I did what everyone does and wrote a 3.5k word fanfiction and made a brand new blog to post it on. So.

Anyway that thing that Gortash did to his parents was pretty fucked up right? Oh hey Ascended Astarion what are you doing here?

gn Tav, cw for some allusions to some non-con-ish stuff, haven't even done an ascended run yet but it's fine also spawn Tav

He so rarely called on his ability to compel you, but you felt the sensation begin to creep at the back of your mind. It felt like a spider climbing up your brain stem to weave it's web inside your skull.  "Astarion, please don't-" "You are going to watch and listen. Do you understand? You are going to learn what is expected of you. And until you have, you will be obedient and silent. Am I clear, my darling?" "Yes, my love."

It was only supposed to be temporary - a punishment for having escaped yet again. It didn't matter that you had every intention of returning as soon as the sun began to poke over the horizon, you had still found yourself cornered in the streets by your darling. The look of anger in his eyes only dampened by his annoyance.

"It's like you don't even try to listen to me, dearest." He had hissed, crowding you back against a wall. "Tell me how I'm supposed to keep you safe when you insist on sneaking around and frolicking off to the worst parts of the city in the dead of night."

"I'm sorry." You dropped your gaze to the ground. "I just- get so bored sometimes…" Maybe if you blame yourself, your own poor impulse control, maybe that would satisfy him.

Instead he just laughed. A short, almost incredulous chuckle. "Oh, you're bored. I see, well of course that's all right then. By all means, throw yourself to the wolves then, my love. Since you're bored."

He grabbed your hands in his, muttering a quick spell, and you were home. You watched as he opened his eyes again and his shoulders relaxed. You were here and safe beside him again and he could breathe once more.

But still, "This was the fourth time in less than a month. What do I have to do to make you understand?" Astarion's grip on your hands tightened.

"You could just let me go…" You mumbled bitterly before you could think any better of it. The instant the words escaped your mouth you had regretted them.

His eyes darkened and he pulled you in closer. He brought one hand up to wrap around the back of your neck, holding you firmly in place. "We are not having this discussion again. You know you belong here."

"But if you would just let me out once in a while I wouldn't-"

"It only takes once, don't you get that?" He hissed, his fangs bared. "One person, just like me. Hiding in the shadows, waiting to strike. Do you understand how high profile you are? Do you not see other nobility out with their guards? They don't prowl the dingiest taverns they can find for good reason, my love."

"I can handle myself!" You snapped back. He was already angry, you were already screwed, how much worse could you possibly make it?

You watched countless emotions fly across his face before irritation settled. Truthfully, not the worst possibility. "I know that you're strong and capable. But it's been years since either of us have lived that kind of life. Those skills don't just stay sharp, you know that. You can hold your own against one, maybe two people. But what happens when you're surrounded? And you're alone, I don't know where you are, I can't help you. Do you not understand that I'm trying to protect you?" He spoke, almost as though he was trying to rationalize with a child.

In his defense you did huff like one. "So I'm meant to stay locked up here forever because you're afraid?" That was the wrong word to choose. The annoyed look fell into anger as he pulled you in even tighter.

"Yes." It was short and filled with a venom that shot a wave of fear down your spine. He so rarely called on his ability to compel you, but you felt the sensation begin to creep at the back of your mind. It felt like a spider climbing up your brain stem to weave it's web inside your skull.

"Astarion, please don't-"

"You are going to watch and listen. Do you understand? You are going to learn what is expected of you. And until you have, you will be obedient and silent. Am I clear, my darling?"

"Yes, my love." Were the words that came out of your mouth. They certainly weren't the ones you were intending, though. What do you mean? What are you talking about? What are you doing? All questions that were desperately trying to escape, but none came.

His face softened as he pulled his hand away from your neck to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear with a gentle smile. "There we are. I love you, you know? So much. I just… I don't know what I'd do without you."

~*~*~

For something you found so horrifying, Astarion was remarkably calm about what he'd done to you. "As irritating and, honestly, pathetic as he was, Gortash did manage to strike me with a touch of inspiration." He had explained as you helplessly smiled back at him.

"The magic he used against his parents was… clever, I'll say. It was terribly cruel of him to leave them like that, trapped in their own minds forever. You have to understand, that's not what I'm doing." He looked so sad, suddenly. He grabbed your hand in both of his and held tight and you felt your face drop to match his emotions.

"I love you. Please, trust me. You don't know this life like I do. You're so- so kind. So trusting and wonderful and lovely. And it's going to get you killed. This is only temporary. I can keep you safe like this while you learn what you need to. This life is politics and swindling and scheming. It's not heroics and good deeds. One day- one day I swear we'll go back but for now this is what must be done. Please just… just trust that I know what I'm doing. And that I love you."

You felt the cobwebs clear for a moment, brushed aside to give you a chance to speak again. He was giving you a choice, though you weren't entirely sure what either outcome was meant to be. You did trust him though, you loved him. And maybe he was right. You had no idea really what the life of this caliber was like. He had been of nobility his entire life. "I trust you."

You felt the cobwebs fill your head again as he smiled, so gently, so sweetly. So why did it make your stomach turn?

~*~*~

He never gave you any sort of timeline. You had expected it to take a few months though. He was training you, shaping you into the perfect little accessory to attach to his hip. It wasn't always horrible, especially at first when he would clear the cobwebs away at night to discuss how you were feeling and what you were learning.

It did feel a bit demeaning. He was your partner not your mother, after all. But you could tell how relaxed he was now that he wasn't worrying about you so much. And it was always easier to learn by doing, even if it wasn't technically you doing anything.

Still, you saw the way you responded to other nobles when they asked you things you had no clue about. Truthfully, you found yourself hoping Astarion might just do this for every big event you went to. The idea of trying to remember all of these names and titles and schemes was daunting. It'd be easier to keep him happy if he was practically speaking through you and it took a huge pressure off your shoulders.

It was when the people left that you began to have a problem. Even when it was just the two of you alone. He allowed the compulsion to drop less and less frequently. Some days you wondered if he'd forgotten it was there at all. You hated when he would spend his time talking with this fake perfect version of you.

Jealousy. It must be. And you felt so stupid for it too. It was still you, your voice and body. And, honestly, half the time the responses this fake you gave were the exact same ones you would've given anyway. So what did it matter so much?

It was frustrating not being able to control your own body. You missed being able to reach out and grab his hand whenever you wanted. There were a lot of things you missed. Most things, actually.

You missed kissing him. It's not that he didn't kiss you like this, or that you couldn't feel it. When he kissed you it just felt awful. Your stomach would churn and all you wanted to do was pull away. You honestly didn't even feel that terrible the time he had forgotten you were in there while you had sex. (Something he had apologized for profusely, long after you'd forgiven him.)

But the kisses were so tender and sweet and they were for someone who wasn't you. It was this fake you that he made for himself and you just couldn't stand it. Next time he dusted you off, you had made up your mind to ask him to stop.

If only you'd made that decision a touch sooner. It had already been over a week since you were last freed from your compulsion. As the days ticked by, you grew less and less confident that you would get the chance to ask.

It has been months already. You weren't entirely sure, but it must've been closing in on a year since he'd first started this project. It didn't feel like it but it was winter again so it must've been.

You kept hoping, every night when you went to bed you silently begged Astarion to hear you again, to let you out of your mind. He never seemed to hear you. Instead he would pepper you in kisses and speak to you like nothing was different.

Weeks turned to months. Every day that went by without being in control of your own body was beginning to take a toll on your mind.

Astarion's touch became less and less welcome until you wanted to shriek and tear at your own skin every time you felt him near you. You screamed and begged and agonized, hoping that if you could just yell loud enough maybe he would hear you.

He had forgotten about you. You became more and more certain with every evening spent on your back for him now. The first time he'd used you like that he was devastated. The idea that he'd had a change of heart was somehow even more crushing than being forgotten. You couldn't entertain that idea.

It made more sense that he'd forgotten you anyway. It had been so long, he'd gotten so used to you like this. He couldn't hear you screaming and thrashing inside your head. And when you were alone, he truly hadn't changed that much about you. Perhaps some of the comments you made were a touch closer to something he would say, but that really only served to push the real you further from his mind.

You had to accept it. You were trapped in your own mind, helpless against the man you adored. You were angry and frightened and so, so desperate to be free. It ached in your chest every time words that weren't yours escaped your lips. You raged every time you felt his touch on your skin. His kiss left you longing to tear out your hair and shriek until your throat burned.

You were truly, utterly helpless.

~*~*~

It was summer now. You were pretty sure, anyway. It was a bit hard to tell exactly when spring ended and summer began when you never saw the sun.

Astarion was hosting a rather large event that evening. You weren't entirely sure what it was for or why. You had stopped bothering to pay attention to these things once you realized it was no longer about learning how to engage with high brow politics. The you that had control would handle it anyway.

You were dressed in a lovely ball gown, a favorite of Astarion's. He liked the wide hoop skirt, it kept people from getting too close to you.

It was like any other stupid high end party. Food that was so decadent and rich you could barely eat any of it. Most of it would be thrown away. What a waste. One of the few thoughts you had as you essentially dissociated through the party.

Your body picked up a small hors d'oeuvre, delicately biting the bite sized snack in two. It was far too unbecoming to pop the entire thing into your mouth, despite it being shaped for exactly that.

"Any good?" A voice from behind you startled you and your false self out of your tiny food related thoughts.

The fake you recognized him first, as your mind still tried to bring the world back into focus. You felt yourself lunge forward, hoop skirt be damned, as you threw your arms around the person in front of you now. Somewhere in the back of your mind you found it extremely strange that fake you would be allowed to do such a thing.

When you finally pulled back, you were present enough to see who you were hugging and it, truthfully, made even less sense. "Gale!" You heard yourself as you bounced excitedly on the balls of your feet. "Why are you here?"

"Oh, it's a big event isn't it?" He grinned, patting you on the shoulder. "Should the famed Wizard of Waterdeep not receive such an illustrious invitation?" He laughed, taking a small step towards the food table. "No, Wyll was invited. He brought Karlach as a plus one. She told me and I pestered Astarion to invite the rest of us. He didn't tell you?"

That sounded about right. You couldn't help laughing. Gods you'd missed them all. "He didn't, but everyone else is here too?"

"Well, no. I got them an invite, that's the best I could do. Shadowheart and Halsin are around here somewhere. Who knows about anyone else." He said, filling up a plate with tiny snacks. A small part of you was happy at least someone was eating like a normal person.

"Come on then, and fill a plate for Karlach would you? I said I'd bring them all back something." Gale smiled back at you as he began filling another plate, presumably for Wyll.

"Have you seen Astarion yet?" Oh, that was a good question actually. At least fake you was thinking about your love.

Gale nodded, picking up the second plate. "He met us when we first got here. Honestly, I expected you to be with him. Barely had a moment to talk, though, before he got pulled away."

"Precisely why I'm not with him." You laughed, picking up the plate you'd made for Karlach. "An event like this is going to have him pulled twenty directions. I'm supposed to stay over here to watch over things but-" But? Fake you didn't argue with buts. How strange. The power of friendship perhaps? Or Astarion's attention being so split with such a large event was allowing even the perfect version of you he hand crafted to slip through the cracks. Either way, you weren't arguing. "Well, it'll be fine to slip away for a moment." Strange.

You followed Gale back to where Wyll and Karlach were standing just a bit too close as they chatted. They were both dressed to the nines, Wyll in a well fitted suit with a short, ornamental cape draped over one shoulder. Karlach was putting him to shame though, in a floor length strapless dress with a slit that traveled halfway up her thigh. You'd never taken Karlach for a dress person and, watching the way she awkwardly moved in it, you'd assume you were right. That didn't stop anyone with eyes from stopping and staring as she walked by. You even found your own gaze lingering a bit too long. Very strange.

"Hey, soldier!" Her voice rang out loud and clear as soon as she spotted you. Before you knew it, you were wrapped in her arms and lifted off the floor with ease. You couldn't help laughing as you carefully tried to keep the plate of food balanced.

Your skirt swished back into place as she set you down, beaming at you. "It's been way too long. Just because you can't go out in the sun doesn't mean Astarion has to lock you away in the dungeon." She laughed again. If only she knew.

"I was surprised I even got an invite." Wyll chuckled, stepping closer. "I don't play his political games, but I'm happy to enjoy some good food with some old friends." Gods he was so sweet. If you didn't know just how genuinely he meant it, you wouldn't trust him.

"Well, I'm certainly happy to see all of you!" It's been so lonely cooped up in here, I've missed you so much. Your lungs longed to scream out to them, to beg them for help.

It was enough they'd taken you away from your post, you knew it was too much to ask for your voice to break through as well. It didn't stop you from wishing with your whole heart for your friends to hear you.

Instead, you had a pleasant conversation about what they've all been up to. Stories of the adventures Karlach and Wyll had been on, an anecdote about Tara that made everyone laugh. Halsin and, later, Shadowheart found their way into the circle, bringing their own stories. It would've been lovely were you not begging to be heard.

Karlach noticed first, of course she did. You saw it happen. You weren't sure what did it exactly but, as you were speaking, you saw her brow knit together. She watched you a bit closer. Fake you must've noticed as well, you felt yourself straighten up a bit more, talk a bit gentler.

It wasn't enough, she'd clocked something and now she was watching. The conversation shifted away from you but her gaze lingered. The you in control longed for her to look away, while the real you screamed for her attention. I'm here, please see me, gods please hear me!

You felt her watching you for at least ten minutes before she leaned in to whisper something to Gale. Oh gods, now he was watching you like a hawk. They both knew something was wrong but they couldn't tell what.

If you hadn't been watching them, you would've missed the small hand gesture and whispered incantation from the wizard. You didn't feel anything but clearly he didn't get what he wanted.

Then you felt it. A small tingling sensation in your head then, suddenly, it was as though the doors to your mind had been thrown open and you felt yourself recoil as though sunlight was pouring in. He was digging into your thoughts.

"Gale!?" You called out desperately in your head, watching as he blinked in shock. The gentle, practiced smile that remained stuck on your face completely opposed to the desperation he heard in your voice.

"Are you all right?" He asked, out loud, much to everyone else's confusion. Particularly Halsin's, who had been actively speaking when Gale interrupted.

"Gale, please! You can hear me?" Your mind screamed.

"Oh, me? Oh, I'm fine." Your mouth replied.

"I can hear you. What's going on?" Gale pressed forward, ignoring the questioning looks he received.

"Um, Gale-" Wyll had started but the wizard was disinterested in interrupting whatever connection he had with you right now.

"Gale, gods, Gale." What could you even say? You had to say something. But how could you explain this? You knew they all disapproved of the way Astarion kept you squirreled away but they never argued because you were both happy and it really wasn't exactly their business. But this? This was different. This was… well. Fucked up.

He was smart though. It didn't exactly take much to put two and two together. Two different answers, two different versions of his dear friend. "What happened? Does Astarion know about this?"

You would've flinched had you been in control of your body. "Really, Gale, I'm all right, I'm not sure what you're talking about." You still smiled warmly.

"He- he's the one who did this but-!" You panicked as you watched a darkness take over Gale's face.

"Okay, does anyone know what's going on right now?" Wyll tried to interject again, only to be met with a misdirected scowl from Gale.

"It would seem our resident vampire lord has gone a bit too far." He practically spat. He had never been overly fond of your relationship in the first place. You were never sure but Astarion was certain it was jealousy - partially why you were so surprised to see Gale had been invited at all.

"Use your words, Elminster." Karlach folded her arms, already impatient to know what was happening.

Gale turned back to you as his anger turned towards sadness. "I don't know how, but he's puppeting them. This-" He waved a hand at your calm, relaxed smile. "This is all fake. I can hear them, they're trapped in there."

"Gale, please, don't get angry, please." You were trying to do damage control now. You didn't want this to break bad for Astarion, you just wanted to be let out. "I- I just think he might've forgotten me, if you just-"

"Forgot you!? What do you mean forgot you? How long have you been in there?"

"Gale! Please don't cause a fuss, please. This- this doesn't have to affect the night. He just needs a reminder, that's all, it's all right."

"How long."

"I… I don't know. Over a year…" You knew saying that would be a bad idea. The rage took over his face again, while the rest of your companions watched with varying levels of confusion.

"Over a year." His voice was flat, his typical affectations and charming cadence gone. "Would someone be so kind as to request the presence of Lord Ancunín? I think we need to have quite the conversation."