#one of the more disappointing bit parts of his i've encountered so far

[exdeputysonso]

Brad Dourif as Thomas Nash | Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D (2014)

[horseshoegirl]

Set Me Alight - Part 6: Running Up That Hill

📜The angst... continued... Though I loved hearing all your thoughts about who you guys disliked the most in the last chapter. I'd love to know what you think after this chapter. I've been warned this one is a bit... OUCHIE?!

❗️+18, Minors DNI, Strong Language, Enemies to Lovers, Original Female Character (s), Short OFC, Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, Verbal fights (some mean stuff is said here; there might be some gaslighting), so bullying, wildlife encounters, shitty family dynamics, and angst.

#7k

Part 5 | Masterlist | Part 7

Everyone scattered in the aftermath.

Even Jessica and Veronica were nowhere to be found as you made your escape. You hardly blamed them for it. If you had been in their shoes, witnessing that shit show, you would have shuttered hard from the waves of secondhand embarrassment rolling off all the tension.

But you couldn't feel secondhand embarrassment from it; you were the embarrassment. And all because of the same reason that got you to this point in your life. 

Jake Seresin just couldn't keep his damn mouth shut.

You're slightly optimistic about where the group could have gone, even with how hurt you felt. You hoped no one had heard or seen any of it, and they already had gone off to do their own thing. Probably the more likely choice, they did and wanted to avoid the fallout altogether, just like certain people had been all along.

Then a third miserable thought entered your mind - they were all pissed with you, maybe even with Jake, and wanted you gone. You could hardly blame them for that, either. Maybe deep down, you wanted to leave too.

It's how you found yourself following the rocky path, perhaps even dangerous if one wasn't paying attention, up to the top of the waterfall instead. The trail was open for use, though, from appearance alone, it looked like only some people came up here looking for another photo opportunity for someone with a camera below.

Climbing up the slope, rather than glancing below to the water, you turned your head towards the river, winding through a stretch of forest. If you weren't so upset, you might have stopped to wonder if this was the scenery authors envisioned when writing fantasy books. This stretch of woods ranged along the top of this mountainside terrain, and perhaps if you ventured far enough, somewhere you'd find yourself standing on the edge of the world. 

You followed the river bank instead, even if you could call it that, your eyes so intently focused on the rushing water you had nothing but your thoughts to keep you company. 

Cora's face flashes through your mind first. A shameful, disappointed look after asking if you had set up any more pranks. You had no intention to fuck up what was supposed to be a happy memory for Nat, but Cora could have put two and two together and assumed you were taking it another step too far.

Grace and Bob? Even Mickey? Pity. You didn't need to think about them further; the guilt from their expressions alone would drive you right into the dirt.

Rueben and Javy, you couldn't say, but Jessica and Veronica, you pushed from your mind, even if they tried to claim a few of your brain cells. They'd be so laced in pure, self-centred bias that you'd even go so far as to classify any remark they might make in the style and prose of Regina George's Burn Book - Masters of passive aggressiveness but perfect at playing the victim when the situation turned against them, as demonstrated the night you injured your hand.

Even if they had no part in what unfolded, any defensive remark would only be met with another, perhaps twisted, sentence intended to put you down.

You might have laughed at the fact had you not felt like crying instead.

It was a few minutes before you found the fork in the river, and there was a solitary rock big enough and flat enough to sit upon. You went to it without haste, letting your feet guide you by their own accord. Being mindful of your hand as you hoisted yourself up and settled onto the smooth surface, you drew your knees up to your chest rather than let your legs hang over the side. You didn't even bother removing your backpack; the weight pulling against your back was a comfort and a burden.

Weakly wrapping your arms around your legs, you let your cheek rest on your kneecaps. What comfort your arms could give was meagre and weak, and even as you stared at a riffle in the water, the gentle trickle or the momentary peace did nothing to help you.

While there was a part of you wishing Jake had decided to leave altogether, to hike back to the entrance of the park, never to show his ugly no, good, untimely, "if not now, when" ass again, you know there was no point. It wouldn't fix what had happened, and it wouldn't make Nat feel any better either.

To say this wasn't the first time you found yourself in the middle of a fight would be an understatement. As friends usually do, you and Nat had your fair share of them over the years, though they always ended up with the two of you making up.

Always because someone caved - that someone being you - maybe that's one of the reasons why you wanted to seek her out.

But you knew your presence wouldn't be welcomed. No matter your explanation, she wouldn't want to hear it, shoving it off and turning you away, especially after the first-row seat to her rage.

Her words hurt you, but you still knew you owed it to her to apologize.

For letting your temper get the better of you, yelling at Jake? Yes.

For the aftermath of it ruining her proposal? Also, yes.

You would sooner run after her for that apology alone had not Bradley gone after her - rightly so. That was something you couldn't interrupt or insert yourself into, especially after a clusterfuck such as that.

The 'thing' building in the pit of your stomach against the white, nauseating feeling of guilt also made you rethink your decision to seek her out. A feeling that only arose from you replaying Nat's rage-filled words repeatedly in your head.

Jake could be right. It's looking like he had always been right.

You don't understand why now, of all times, you'd entertain the possibility of accepting Jake's words. It is something you want to remain a mystery, shoved deep down into the forgotten places of your mind.

It's an impossible feat.

Nat's rage, so hot and what you'd classify as spiteful, blew the doors open so wide there was no amount of pressure you could shove at the idea to make it disappear. You buried your face into your knees, eye sockets aching under the force, driving lights and shapes to appear behind your lids.

What if? What if I said this? What if I did this? What if I just walked away?

But something else shot forward in your mind, something you'd never thought you'd entertain.

What if I did confront Nat? Confront her for the lack of support throughout the entire trip. Not just in the heat of the moment, but truly laid bare that she purposely brought me on this trip without telling me Jake would be here too.

If you told her how you felt, how she had made you feel, would that have made a difference, too?

You think not. Even if you had a part to play in your feelings of isolation, there would have been a reason, an explanation, a word vomit of her hurt feelings without care for yours. You had never truly voiced your feelings before, always burying them under wit and sarcasm.

There was no chance you would now.

Ironic, isn't it? All that snark you've mustered up for Jake, for the two twins incarnate, and you still couldn't bring yourself to stand up for yourself and set a boundary with your 'friend.'

You supposed that's how it's always been, too.

Growing up in the shadow of expectations, your voice often ended up unheard. A middle child sandwiched between an older brother who followed in your father's footsteps and a younger sister brimming with self-selected compassion – and two parents in high-achieving roles.

In the rare instance that all five of you could actually sit down and have a family dinner together, conversations only seemed to revolve around that fact. They were limited to surgical techniques, case studies, medical research projects, and overseas missions.

Your father always sat at the same end of the dining room table. Dr. Xiaver Spencer, the authoritative head neurosurgeon, would often glance over the rim of his glasses, nodding approvingly at your brother's, Dr. Alex Spencer, recounts of complex brain surgeries. Your mother always claimed her spot at the other end. Dr. Heather Spencer, the CEO of a prestigious teaching and research-based hospital, would meticulously plan her next board meeting in between bites. 

With your brother between them on one side, Ella, your younger sister, would occupy the other. She often regaled the family with tales of distant lands and communities, places she had adventures to as a volunteer with UNICEF. If she wasn't home, she was overseas, helping build homes, handing out supplies, assisting medics, or studying.

Only 16, and she was off seeing the world, her pure joy of helping those in need making your paintings and designs at the local animal shelter quaint in comparison.

That left you and your seat at the table, never fixed or permanent, wedging between your brother, sister, mother and father in a different spot every time.

They made you feel quaint, too. Any attempt to share or talk about art, your art, or even the opportunities coming your way was always met with a "That's nice, dear" or "It's good to have hobbies."

Alex would laugh. Ella would remain silent. And nobody took you seriously enough when you started discussing it as an actual career.

Because the path you had chosen for yourself was less valuable than the stringent standards surrounding your family and what it meant to be a Spencer. Because pursuing a Fine Arts or even an Arts Illustration Degree was abhorrent when you could be working to save lives instead.

You might have taken to talking back and standing up for yourself in the early days. Each remark or attempt was followed with one of their own, so cutthroat it would have you sinking into the polished and unmarked leather of one of your mother's overly expensive dining room chairs. You would poke at the designer dish with the fancy silver fork through your tears, waiting till everyone else finished before taking off to your room and calling Aunt Viv.

Each time you did, the urge diminished, and soon, you didn't say anything unless you were spoken to. However, that was a rare instance indeed.

Why give your opinion? Why voice your thoughts when they weren't really warranted?

Correction - Wanted.

Aunt Viv, though. She... cared. Pure, unwavering support, no matter what you said, did or would think to do. She pushed you towards what you loved and stood by you like a rock when cash was tight, and scholarships weren't cutting it. She was unafraid to throw your name around in conversations. Not your full name, but "My niece Maeve does this," or "My niece is such a talented artist."

Who knew growing apples could have such a sway? You weren't sure where you'd be now if it weren't for her.

You knew you couldn't stay here on this rock forever. But you didn't know what else to do. Walk back with your head held high? Give Cora, Grace, or even Bob the compass and the map, and let them take over for the rest of the day? Hang out in the back of the group where you belonged, not saying a word to anyone else?

You could always leave.

The thought was tempting - walk away from it all. From Nat, from Jake, from the situation. You're surprised you didn't attempt to do it before. But leaving now felt like admitting defeat, and despite everything, you weren't ready to give up. Not yet.

Four-plus years, and it would have been a waste for nothing if you did. Cause if you walked away now, you'd never come back.

As you slowly slid from the rock, you decided on a plan. You'd walk back, find Nat to apologize, and attempt to mend whatever was left of the week. You and Nat had purposely planned more than one stop on this trip where Bradley could propose; he still could if things calmed down.

You followed the river back down the way you came, trying to figure out what to say, what to do, that would make the apology meaningful.

You would have to do it sooner than you thought. Cause the second you lifted your head at the sound of stones clacking hard against one another, Nat was striding towards you, completely lost in her thoughts.

Your initial thought would have been she was seeking you out had it not been for the devastated look on her face.

It left you frozen, unwilling to take a step further.  You had geared yourself up to swallow your hurt to apologize for a mess that hadn't been entirely yours, but standing here and now in front of her, you knew.

It wouldn't matter what you said. 

It's not a disappointment you see it reflected in her face. It's not love for a friend either or even dislike either. That would be giving her too much credit, and even after feeling sorry for what happened, acknowledging you owed her an apology, and burying that hurt aside, failed proposal or not, it comes rushing back inside. 

Even then, you still caved first.

"What can I say or do to make up for what just happened?" you manage to plead.

She scoffs in the face of your honest ask. "You really don't know?"

You shake your head hard. "No. No, I don't. Not for this. All I can do is ask and offer whatever apology I can that would truly make it up to you."

Nothing on Earth could have prepared you for something like this.

Her hand flew up, preventing you from saying another word. “Just save it,” she spat. “I don’t want to hear it, Maeve. Not now. Maybe not ever.” 

You gasped, and Nat's gaze hardened further, if possible.

 "You think you're the only one hurt by all this?" Her voice raised, bitter and cold.  "You think you're the only one with feelings? God, Midge, you can be so self-absorbed sometimes. It's always about you, isn't it?"

Your mouth dropped open like a fish. "You really think I wanted this," you emphasize by spreading your arms out wide, "To happen? Do you think I purposely wanted to fuck up your proposal just to get back at Jake? Come on, Nat!"

"Honestly?" she cries out. "I don't know!"

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "Wow. Okay then."  

"You've been so caught up in your own drama with hating Jake that you didn't even see what was happening right in front of you. How all of it has been affecting everyone else in the group?"

You don't mean for your anger to get the best of you or for it to be directed at Nat, but her remarks are so spiteful that you can't help the shrill laugh crawling up your throat.

"And you did? Like you haven't been the picture of understanding and support. You had to have seen the way Jessica and Veronica have been treating me. Where were you then?!"

Nat eyes you up and down like she's just caught you in a lie. "Funny you say that, 'cause they told me the same thing," she insinuates.  "How you've been less than welcoming. How you can't let things go. How you can't take a joke...."

Your jaw tightened, and the fact she was buying into their words and their stories without questioning it further stung harder than you wanted to believe. 

"So their behaviour is justified because I was standing up for myself? For things you never saw from the sound of it!?" 

And what does she do but shrug? The action is so dismissive it only fuels your frustration further. "You're not exactly innocent in all of this." 

You know it's not those two she's referring to. 

"What, Jake?" you mock. "You never told me Jake was coming on this trip. You've always known how I've felt about him, how it's always been between us, and you said nothing!"

"Because I thought you could handle it for one fucking week!"

"I leave a room the second I realize he's in it. I purposely go out of my way to avoid him. That's me fucking handling it! I avoid him at all costs because I can't stand to be in the same space as him without feeling like I will lose my mind. And you thought throwing us together was a good idea?!"

Nat didn't say anything, prompting you to continue. "A good friend tells her friend if the guy she hates is going on a week-long trip with them. A good friend acknowledges the hurt this person has caused..."

"A good friend explains why she dislikes a guy so much! She explains she lets them know...." Nat interrupts you, though you interrupt her right back.

"He's your fucking friend! I won't be the one to drive a wedge into a friend group that existed long before I ever came around!"

As if I could.

Nat's response was a mix of frustration and disbelief. "You just gave up! You just gave him the cold shoulder, and the next, you two were at each other's throats."

"And what?" you cried out.  "You just believed what Jessica and Veronica said about me? Without even asking my side? You know how they can be, Nat! you know!" 

Her eyes narrowed, and she moved closer, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. ”If you ever faced your problems instead of sprinting in the opposite direction, we wouldn't be in this mess. It's no wonder everything's falling apart around you."

Her words held you in a chokehold, a sharp intake of breath your only defence against the burning sting in your lungs. You remain silent, hurt flashing across your face as your eyes blur with unshed tears.

"Wow," you finally manage, voice croaking. "Kick me while I'm down. I'm sorry your proposal was ruined, Nat; I am. But that doesn't give you permission to be cruel." 

She turns her head away from you to stare at the water. You press on further. 

"Let's talk about this," you hold your arm up. "Or the fact I was the one hiding behind the bush first, not him. With my phone, trying to get photographs for you. Jake was the one who approached me. Who decided that was the best moment of all other times to start fucking with me. I might have pranked him earlier, but I wasn't about to do it during a moment such as that. I was the one telling him to back the fuck off. " 

Your eyes were welling up with tears, but you fought them back, refusing to let her see just how much she'd wounded you.

"Or let's talk about how Veronica gave me a snide remark about my art, and I stood up for myself, only to have her knock my brushes to the side. Or how they cornered Jake into pulling a prank that resulted in this?" you hold up your arm. 

She turns to you, her eyes harsh. "Like how you pranked Veronica?" 

You rolled your eyes. "It was meant for the Asshole, but you know what, I'm happy she got a little bit of Karma after everything you just admitted." 

Nat's face twisted, a mix of anger and something else you couldn't quite place. "You know what, Maeve? Maybe you're right. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. You and Jake, this trip, everything!" 

"And you think blaming me is going to make it better?"

Nat opened her mouth to retort but then closed it, pressing her lips into a thin line. The anger seemed to drain from her face momentarily, replaced by a weary resignation.

"Maybe I never should have invited you instead."

You bit your bottom lip, nodding more to yourself than to her. A sad noise crept up your throat, a laugh, though it was one more of resignation, maybe even ironic amusement. The thought comes rushing forward to sweep you off your feet like the first time you heard it.

Because Jake was right, after all.

Standing there wounded and silent, in the hardness of Nat's eyes, you conclude that perhaps you were never really a friend in the first place.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe you never should have. At least then, I wouldn't have spent years thinking we were actually friends after all."

Shaking your head, you turned away from her, the weight of everything pressing down on you. With each step you took, the sound of the river beside you grew louder, its rushing waters seeming to beckon you forward. The thought that if you could allow yourself to be swept away, to tumble over the waterfall at its end, flashed through your mind. That would be enough to wash away the pain. 

Nat sighed loudly from behind you and then called out after you, "Midge, stop!"

The fact she called you Midge, not Maeve, made your resolve burn brighter.

You twisted, continuing to walk backwards. You dramatically threw your hands out to the side as you sarcastically called out through your tears, "Why should I? I only think about myself, right? Make everything about me? Why quit now when I'm only following in the example you've so clearly set?"

You sniffed a breath, and then the remark slipped past your lips, the defence mechanism you've used in all other circumstances, finally landing a blow on someone you once considered a friend. You purposely stopped, raising your hands to clap against the thick fabric of the bandage on your arm.

"Let's give a round of applause and a standing ovation to the one and only Natasha Trace, the saint who never does anything wrong!" you dropped, bending yourself down into a dramatic bow. "Bravo for putting up with me for so long! What an Oscar-worthy performance, indeed!"

You didn't bother seeing her reaction, purposely straightening yourself to turn back to walk the path ahead. Honestly, you didn't want to see it either.

You simply had enough.

All those years you spent fighting against the words of one jock in your apartment bathroom because you didn't want to lose Nat as a friend - gone in minutes.  

Fighting your sobs, you tried to devise some plan, anything beyond your initial decision to leave as you stormed forward. Perhaps some other tourist below would take pity on your situation and let you tag along back to the park entrance. There was a bus station there. You could buy a ticket back into the city and then take the train home.

Either way, your decision to leave had been the obviously correct one. Nat made that so abundantly clear.

You could see the opening to the slope from a distance, and you took a moment to compose yourself. Wiping at the lingering tears on your face, you drew in sharp, equal breaths, hoping the fresh air would calm you down.  If you were about to ask a total stranger for help, you couldn't do it looking like this.

You tilted your head back on your shoulders, closing your eyes as you tried to feel the breeze on your face, seeking solace in its cool embrace. You let your hand rest on the nearby tree, trying to feel the sensation of its bark under the palm of your hand. Rolling your head forward, you shook your shoulders, straightening your posture before opening your eyes.

But the path ahead was no longer empty. And you caught sight of the last person you wanted to see, making their way up the hill. 

The universe was a fine-flecked bitch, so that it would seem. Because there was Jake, in all his glory, precariously walking up the slope. 

Seeing him sends the sensation of sheer ice shooting across your skin. And the hurt that had found a home inside your chest amplifies into an overwhelming urge to run. Run, and never look back. Run and escape.

Run. Run. Run. Run.

But is it from him? Or from his words and the truth in them, haunting, following you from that night? A truth that was proven only a mere few seconds ago.

Panic flutters in your chest at the thought he'd seen you, and you spin rapidly on your heel, hoping you could find another path or maybe even hide until he accomplished whatever he intended to do by coming up here.

But your bag snags on a branch, and you wince as the leaves rustle obnoxiously, knowing that if Jake hadn't seen you standing there before, he certainly would now.

Jake lifted his head at the sudden noise, only to see a quick flash of bright blue. Your sleeping bag curled on top of your backpack disappeared behind the thick trunk of a tree.

"Midge, wait!"

Like hell, I'd wait for you.

His voice spurs you on, taking off into the thick underbrush. Jake is undeterred in the slightest, taking off after you.  He wasn't far behind, having extended his pace to get to you quicker once he was up the side of the hill.  You were at a disadvantage; your short legs were no match for his long ones, and your heavy bag only weighed you down.

Your only hope would be to lose him in the bush, counting on his height, build, and weight even, to slow him down and watch where he was going. You were small, yes, but you could get through the gaps or the trees better than he ever could.

But Jake was uncaring if thorns were ripping at his jeans or if branches were smacking him in the face. He was so fucking stubborn, and his drive was absolute. If not to get you to talk, then not to let you disappear into the woods alone.

"Midge, stop running! I'm not going to hurt you!"

His voice came from everywhere and anywhere, seemingly bouncing off trees and down the paths they grew, a haunting echo that unleashed a fresh wave of tears. As you rounded the corner of a tree, you came across an intriguing root system twisting along the ground when your vision blurred.

You cried out when you tripped over a root. You caught yourself and, without stopping, lifted your arm so the bandage might catch the tears rushing down your face, feet continuing to step in the spaces between the roots blindly.

You did. You have been. And you probably still will.

The thought, bitter and resigned, fueled your steps farther and farther. The underbrush grabbed at your legs like hands pulling you down. Burs stuck to the fabric of your leggings and pricked at your skin. Branches whipped at your face and arms, leaving thin lines of red in their wake. But the thought of losing Jake, getting out of this park and never seeing him again urged you on.

But when you finally burst through the underbrush, expecting to find a trail, a slope down, or even a trail marker to tell you where to go, you were met with nothing of the sort. It was a dead end, a sheer cliff drop that had you skidding to a jarring halt against stone ground. Gravel slid beneath your feet, and your arms flailed wildly as you desperately tried to save your balance.

Your heart must have stopped briefly as you were forced to look down, confronting the edge of this unexpected cliff and the daunting drop below. While not lethal, a fall like this would only lead to injury, one you wouldn't tempt fate for.

A cold wave of realization washed over you as you finally regained your balance and looked around. The ledge you found yourself on was a narrow outcropping that offered no path forward, only a steep fall or retreat back through the bush toward Jake.

You were utterly, utterly trapped.

Twigs snapped under Jake's boot as he stepped out from behind the bush. His breath was laboured, audible harsh pants that had you reaching up to cup your hands over your ears before sliding them forward to cover your eyes.

I can't do this now. I can't do this now.

"Why do you always run from me?"

You couldn't think. Nothing was coming forth to save you now. No witty retort or clever line. No semblance of that resolve that rushed through your veins before. You were literally incapable of rescuing or being enough to save yourself from what was about to unfold.

So, your anger rose up to greet you like a long-lost friend instead. 

"You don't get to ask me that! Why do you even care?" The words erupted from you louder and more forceful than you'd care to admit, letting your hands fall from your face to smack against the side of your thighs. "What the fuck more could you possibly want from me, Jake?! What... what was the point of you chasing me? To corner me? To say more about me or remind me how much of a fuck up I really am? To drive the wedge, the fucking knife, deeper?"

Even as you yelled, you still couldn't face him.

"Everyone in this fucking camp hates me! In general. Do you think I don’t know what people say? How they look at me? And you… you’re no different. You’ve made your thoughts about me crystal clear from the second I met you." 

You stomped forward, pointing your finger into his chest. "We made a fucking deal not to ruin their week for them. We agreed. But you just had to cause shit. You just had to bang that pot; you just had to put away the coffee; you just had to think of the worst fucking shortcut; you just had to scream, bear. You just had to hurt me!" 

You were panting hard, thumping your finger into his chest. 

"I told you. You throw that shit at me. I'll throw that shit back. So thank you for that, because if your point in all of that was to end Nat and I's friendship and kick me out of the group, then congratulations. You succeed!" 

As he absorbed the full force of your words, the pure hurt pouring out of you, he seemed to deflate right before your eyes. For a moment, he stood there, his features softening and his usual cocky confidence nowhere in sight. Some might have even called it a genuine look of distress and confusion. 

Jake's voice was barely above a whisper when his shoulders slumped, and he asked defeatedly, "Why do you hate me so much, Midge? What did I do?"

In his honest green eyes, you could see the plea for an answer, any answer that might get you to open up to him and simply explain.

But you couldn't.

How could you explain the reason you yelled, shouted, snarked, and downright hated him was because he had been completely right? At the infamous Halloween party, you caught him about to hook up with that girl in your bathroom, uttering about your supposed friendship with Natasha?

How, since that moment, you had been running from him because it was the easier option? Better than giving yourself over to the possible truth - a truth you have seen time and time again. Because allowing yourself to feel hurt over catching him with another girl when he flirted and showed an interest in you for most of the night was better than possibly ruining the one friendship you had.

It shouldn't even matter right now. You already had. And just like that night, Jake had been right the first day by the lake. You did run away from your problems.

Because I don't know how to do anything else.

His question hung in the air, a plea for some understanding, some clue, some indication of how things could have gotten so bad between you.

A gasp tore from your throat instead.

Not because you were outwardly expressing your frustration and struggle in answering him, but for the fact you caught sight of a massive creature emerging from the treeline behind him.

Every emotion you had felt before vanished at the sight and was replaced with only two: panic and fear.

Your arm moved by its own accord, your hand latching onto Jake's sleeve. He tried to tug his arm back, but you wouldn't let him. You were near catatonic, your grip as strong as metal and your face pale as ice as you watched the approaching creature finally notice your presence. With its mouth hung open, the brown monster stood on its haunches to inquire if you were friend, foe, or its next meal.

Jake remained clueless to your reaction, frowning when he reached up to pry your hand away, unaware of the approaching threat. "What the fuck, Midge. Let me go!"

You couldn't. You couldn't let Jake go. You couldn't do anything except stutter out, "baaa baaa... Bear!"

How your legs hadn't given out yet, you had no clue.

"Really? Do you think I'm going to fall for that after what I did to you? No way. Stop changing the damn subject and give me an answer."

You're not sure how you managed it, but you attempted to hit him on his shoulder, nervous energy causing you to let up on the force behind such a move. You hadn't even felt the sting of your bandaged wrist, adrenaline masking any pain you might have felt, even if it was a rather flimsy attempt.

You still hadn't taken your eyes off the brown animal. It was massive, rugged, and looked like it had no protests about which one of you it would eat first. The scar across its back and face was another story altogether, too. Its teeth would have no problem tearing into Jake; you'd merely be a tiny slice of desert. Or the appetizer.

"Midge, stop and talk to me like a fucking adult!"

The fact he still didn't listen to you seemed to wake you out of your stupor.

"Turn the fuck around and look, you idiot!"

You aren't sure if your prompting would have gotten Jake to turn around and look. Because once you finally managed to gather the courage to draw your eyes away from the thing deciding who to go after first, Jake's face was frozen, contemplating if you were telling the truth.

The bear roared, shattering any doubt.

His reaction was instant, eyes flaring and mouth hanging slightly. He spun, shooting out his arm as his hand made contact with your hip, urging you behind him. Your hands scrambled for anything to grab onto as he turned, eventually settling on clutching the strap of Jake's backpack.

If you weren't so scared, you might have wondered why Jake was here, putting himself in harm's way for you. You might have even whipped out a sarcastic, "Yeah, that's right. Eat him first, you wild creature."

But either one of you had anywhere to go. And even if you could manage to distract it, there was no way either of you could outrun it.

"What are we going to do?" you shot out nervously.

"It's a bear, Midge!" Jake rushed out. "Just stay the fuck behind me."

You panicked and snapped back, "I saw it first! I know what a bear looks like!"

It bellowed, making Jake jolt backwards. You let out a cry, burying your face into the back of his massive bag.

The bear safety facts from the class the park rangers made you take before you ventured into the park are conveniently missing from your mind. All except the one you whisper harshly, "They tell you not to run."

Jake's voice cut through the tension. "Well, if we can't run, I guess now's a good time to see who can yell louder?"

"You really want to start a shouting match now?!"

"Were you paying any attention in that safety class? Running. No. Yelling. Yes. Surely, between the two of us, we can manage that!"

"I was doing that before it decided to show up! What makes you think that's not the reason it sought us out, dumbass?"

"Because I refuse to believe my sparkling personality is what attracts bears!"

You laughed sharply as the bear seemed to be weighing its options. You were not sure why it hadn't decided to charge the two of you yet, but you would have bet good money it had to do with the scars littered across its body.

"You called for one the other night, remember? Practically pulled a Dory!"

"Don't hate on a children's Icon, Midge!"

"I'm hating on you for what you did to me! They aren't mutually exclusive things!"

Jake took a careful step forward, testing the waters. You shuffled with him, eager to put space between you and the ledge. The creature tilted its head as if pressing its ear to the ground. Then, without warning, it let out a deep, resonating roar directly at the both of you. You buried your face into Jake's backpack again, trying not to scream.

"That was probably not one of my best ideas."

Your voice was muffled against the fabric. "Want me to make a list?"

Jake's laugh was nervous. "Only if I can make one for you."

The bear, seemingly unimpressed by your banter, shifted its weight, causing Jake and you to tense up again.

"Thinking yelling at a bear would actually work as a deterrent is on it."

"We're supposed to yell at it, not at each other."

"You think it can tell the difference?" you asked him, your voice pitchy. "It doesn't matter who or what we are yelling at."

Jake managed a strained smile.  "Common ground. Wow, we're practically bonding over here."

"Because nothing brings people closer like shared trauma," you snap, fear sharpening your words. "I'm tripping you first."

"I'm leaving you behind."

"I'll feed you to the bear myself."

"I run faster, scared than you do, mad."

"Hang on, let me find a stick and shove it up your ass."

Jake's eyebrows shot up. "Now there's the Midge I know."

Peering over Jake's arm, the bear made a sudden, decisive lunge forward with a single paw, claws extended, as if taunting its prey, waiting to see if the two of you would scramble. The move was unexpectedly aggressive, and it sent the two of you scrambling backwards in panic.

Neither of you realized how close to the cliff's edge you actually were. Only when your boots slid again on gravel, and you were brought back to a few moments ago when you nearly fell over yourself.

"Jake! The cliff!" you cried out, desperately trying to push on his backpack. You could feel it, one or maybe two more inches, and you'd be slipping off the edge.

"Hang on to me!"

"What do you think I'm doing?" You shot back, your words laced with adrenaline-fueled irritation and fear. However, you did find your grip miraculously tightening further to anchor yourself to him. But you couldn't with your injured hand, trying desperately to wind it through the straps across the bag instead.

Jake's mind flickered rapidly between the bear and the crackling stone beneath his feet. "Okay, new plan. We let it charge, and we dodge."

"And your an action movie junkie, that's never going to work!" you rushed out. 

"What else do we have, Midge?!"

Honestly? Nothing.

Jake widened his stance, almost as if he was sizing up the bear. You mirrored his movement as best you could, though it seemed futile with your smaller stature.

"When I move, you move!" Jake's voice was sharp, a clear command, and if this were any other circumstance, your instinctive retort would have been a defiant, "Don't tell me what to do!"

For this?

 Nope. Have at it, Jake. Maybe they'll let me torture you in hell.

It was stupid. Idiotic even. But what else could the two of you do? You were literally boxed in—no way to go.

Then something popped under your foot. And above the frantic beating of your heart, more menacing than the bear's growls, came a sickly sound that made your blood run cold.

An ominous crack.

What followed was worse - a series of smaller yet equally sinister sounds and the feeling of pieces of stone wobbling beneath your feet. You didn't dare look down, for you already knew.

The damn cliff was falling apart.

"Jake!"  Your voice was desperate, trying to pierce through his concentration. But he hadn't heard you, solely focused on when this bear would finally decide to leap. Or maybe he did and thought it was you being scared.

You shoved at his back, but he was like a brick wall, and you had nothing to ground yourself with.

You shouldn't have tried to push him, either. The second you tried to apply some force behind another shove, a chunk of stone came loose, allowing the ground beneath your feet to give away.

You dropped with a cry, legs knocking hard into the fragmented pieces of stone, and you found yourself dangling, held aloft solely by the one strap of Jake's backpack. The elastic straps around your wrist had already snapped against your bandage, freeing your arm, and it waved out, reaching for something that had never been there in the first place.

Jake fell backwards at the weight, causing him to step back at an angle. He called out your name and tried to keep his eyes on the bear while trying to reach for you blindly. You were trying to bring your legs up to a section of stone that looked stable enough to not give under pressure so you might be able to grab his hand. But with how heavy your pack was, you couldn't gain enough momentum to swing your leg over, no matter how hard you tried.

Suddenly, his hand gripped the bend of your elbow hard enough that you were sure there would be bruises if either of you managed to get out of this in one piece.

"Let go, Midge! I'll pull you up!"

"The bear!"

"It's still deciding which one of us to eat first!"

"Don't take your eyes off it!"

"What do you think I'm doing? Picking daisies?!"

You weren't sure what was louder—the bear's unsettling clacking or the ominous sounds of stone shifting ominously under Jake's weight. The truth was, you didn't want to find out.

You let go, entrusting your entire weight into Jake's hold, crying out when you dropped a few inches. But whether it was your cry or Jake needing to ensure your safety over his own, he dared to take his eyes off the bear to glance over his shoulder.

That was all it took for everything to happen all at once.

The brief shift in his gaze, the twist of his waist, and the slight lean were enough to unsettle the already compromised ground beneath him. With a heart-sinking crack, the remaining piece of the cliffside he was perched on gave way.

The bear roared, charging forward at the prospect of losing its meal.  And Jake lost his balance, using the momentum to twist his body to fully face you, some last-minute attempt to ensure your safety if he could, with a look of a thousand promises he could never make nor keep.

But you didn't see it. You were too busy watching the last crumbling stone disappear from underneath Jake's boots before gravity took over, cruel and unforgiving, as you finally started to fall.

For a breathless moment, you were suspended in the air, Jake's figure falling forward with you, nothing but white overcast clouds behind him. His hand was still gripping your elbow, and his eyes were wide, the realization of what was about to occur striking him hard.

With a final decisive tug born out of desperation, Jake pulled you close as he tumbled over, your face colliding with the solid wall of his chest. His other arm wrapped around your back, around your bag, his body twisting mid-air with you in his grasp, ensuring in the split second before gravity claimed its due, you were on top of him, not beneath.

Then, with a terrifying rush, the two of you fell, the ground rushing up to greet you both. Another roar of the bear above faded into the roar of the wind in your ears. With the pit forming in the pit of your stomach, above the wind, the scream you produced vibrating against Jake's chest was worse.

What happened after that, you couldn't recall.

The world didn't fade but snapped to black.

Had to throw the cliffhanger in there somewhere? 😂😅💛

Taglist:

@desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s @kmc1989 @fanficfandomlove @hookslove1592 @dakotakazansky

@teacupsandtopgun @lynnevanss @dizzybee03 @keyrani

@shanimallina87 @wildxwidow @dempy @stargazer-88 @alldaysdreamer @the-dark-and-mystery @bookchik15

@atarmychick007 @tinytotontheoversizedpony @buckysteveloki-me @wretchedmo

@redbarn1995 @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @yuckosworld @wren5650 @mrsevans90 @bellaireland1981 @tgmreader

@halibshepherd @essie1876 @formulafun @memoriesat30 @vicsnook @memoriesat30

Please let me know if Tumblr didn't notify you! I've been having issues with being tagged in things myself. If that is the case, I can work on trying to find an alternative.

Part 7 - My Blood - In-progress

[redgoldsparks]

March Reading and Reviews by Maia Kobabe

I post my reviews throughout the month on Storygraph and Goodreads, and do roundups here and on patreon. Reviews below the cut.

Delicious in Dungeon vol 4 by Ryoko Kui

I'm reading these books so fast I can barely remember which parts of the plot happened in which volume but know that I am still having a great time!

Delicious in Dungeon vol 5 by Ryoko Kui

Oh, this story has taken a darker turn, and also just introduced a whole bunch more characters. Will I be able to keep track of them all? I hope so!

Dragon Keeper by Robin Hobb, read by Anne Flosnik 

Unfortunately, this is definitely the weakest Robin Hobb book I've read so far. I was expecting to like it less than the glorious, 5-star previous trilogy, but I actually think I'm going to skip the rest of the Rain Wild Chronicles and read summaries online to get to the next Fitz books. This book follows five main POV characters. This works fairly well for the first half, when the characters are all in different physical locations. However once all of the characters meet up, we start getting the same scene from multiple different POVs, which feels extremely repetitive. Also, almost EVERY SCENE includes a flashback, often a lengthy flashback, sometimes to something that happened only the previous day and could have been told as present-moment action. This writing choice baffled me. It's something I can't remember struggling with in any of Hobb's previous books, but by the end it was driving me up a wall. The book also moved very slowly; the stakes feel lower, and the character far less emotionally true than in the two Fitz trilogies. Disappointing, but I will keep moving forward towards the next part of the series I want to read.

Delicious in Dungeon vol 6 by Ryoko Kui

Damn, a lot of characters get murdered in this volume! Good thing almost everyone who dies in the dungeon can be revived. Also, very excited to finally meet the cat ninja I've been seeing fan art of since before I even started the series :3

Delicious in Dungeon vol 7 by Ryoko Kui

I am still completely caught up in this series. I love the glimpse of Senshi's past revealed in this volume, and the lore of the dungeon that is still being revealed. There was a line in here about how the dungeon leaves you alone if you don't ask much of it, but that if you have strong desires it throws even more obstacles into your way. Our heroes have such big goals right now, but they're marching ahead regardless!

School Trip by Jerry Craft 

A satisfying new installment in the New Kid series from funny, talented, charming Jerry Craft! I appreciated how this volume started to complicate some of the students who had been left a bit one-dimensional in previous books. Several people stood up to and called out a bully; new friendships were built; and Jordan Banks left Paris even more inspired than ever to follow his dreams of becoming an artist. This series has a lot of jokes, but also a lot of heart!

A Frog in Fall (and Later On) by Linnea Sterte 

Minor frog is less than a year old, and is dismayed when winter begins to steal all of the light and warmth from his world. Instead of bunking down safely with his mentor to wait for spring, he sets out on a journey with two vagabond toads passing by on a quest to make it all the way to the tropics. They tramp through the Japanese countryside, encountering tree spirits, new friends, dangers, and views the likes of which minor frog had never even imagined. This is a gorgeous book; every page worth pouring over, an economy of line and detail building a beautiful and mysterious world of talking animals and miniature packaged foods. Made me want to draw.

Dark Rise by CS Pacat read by Christian Coulson 

In 1820s London, orphaned Will tries to earn enough as a dockworker to survive- and evade the killers pursuing him. Violet dresses in her half-brother's clothes and sneaks onto a ship in the Thames to watch a man be branded with his master's mark. Katherine excitedly anticipates her engagement to one of London's richest and most mysterious lords; his gallantry nearly makes up for the fact that he's twice her age. And in the bowels of one of that lord's ships, James tortures a man for information. All of these characters are 16 or 17 years old, but all of them are tangled in an ancient conflict between the Light and the Dark which stretches back into an age of magic before history. This is CS Pacat's YA fantasy debut, and it contains a lot of tropes very familiar to both YA and high fantasy- there are shades of both Tolkien and Rowling in this. Its fast-paced and action-packed, but especially in the first third of the story, the characters all felt fairly thin. None of them have quirks, hobbies, career hopes, relationships outside of immediate family, school, or work; or much more than a brief sketch of past. It took until the mid-way point for what I consider Pacat's major strengths as a writer to emerge: intense, homoerotic interpersonal sparring between characters operating under major power imbalances. Every scene in which the seductive, manipulative, powerful evil gay faced off against the good boy chosen one crackled with energy. Unfortunately, there were only four of these scenes in the whole book. It ends on a cliff-hanger, because of course it does, with a tempting set up for book two; but that doesn't entirely excuse the fact that the first 50% felt like set up. I will definitely keep reading, but long-time Pacat fans should take note that this is toned down version of what I expected based on Captive Prince.

Feeding Ghosts by Tessa Hulls (re-read before event)

What an accomplishment! I savored every page of Feeding Ghosts, absolutely floored by the labor and courage that went into the writing of this book. The inking is gorgeous, the history is clear, digestible, and devastating. This book threads the line between honesty and compassion in a way that I appreciate so much in any memoir, but especially one dealing with family. Hulls lays out the story of three generations of women starting with her grandmother, Sun Yi, a Shanghai journalist who faced intense persecution during the rise of Communism in China, who penned a popular and scandalous memoir and then suffered a mental breakdown. This left her only daughter, Rose, a student at an elite boarding school with no parental figures and no other family to lean on. Eventually Rose earned a scholarship to an American university and in the end moved her mother into her California home. Sun Yi haunted that home during the author's own childhood. The unexamined trauma and codependency of Sun Yi and Rose drove the author to the extreme edges of the Earth, seeking freedom from their ghosts. But in the end, she stopped running from her family history and turned, instead, to face it. Shelve this book with Maus, Fun Home, Persepolis and The Best We Could Do. Re-read it for a second time and got even more out of it on a second pass.

Delicious in Dungeon vol 8 by Ryoko Kui

Laios and company realize that their encounter with changling mushroom rings had more consequences than they'd realized- its the body swap episode! This visual humor is contrasted against increasing dangers from both above and below, as nastier monsters and political machinations begin to close in on our heroic adventuring party. I'm now over halfway through this series and almost feel like I should start reading it more slowly to savor it, but I'll probably just keep devouring it instead.

Lunar New Year Love Story by Gene Luen Yang and Leuyen Pham

High school senior Val grew up knowing her family was unlucky in love; for generations, relationships in her family have ended in heartbreak. Her childhood love of Valentines Day ends with a shocking family revelation and what feels like the beginning of a curse. Then her Vietnamese grandmother sweeps her off to a Lunar New Year celebration in downtown Oakland and a pair of cute lion dancer boys catch her eye. Could one of them break the spell on her heart? This story offers a classic and satisfying rom-com, with Val torn between an outgoing, rich, but flaky boy and a broody, shy, loyal one. The story takes several kdrama style twists and includes ghosts, saints, red envelopes, confessions, fights, reunions, tears, and kisses. For a comic, its wordy; the pages are dense with small panels and thick with dialogue, but also illustrated with such warm, humor, and realism. I really liked that the story included as much of Val's relationship with her family and best friend as romance. And the lion dancing scenes practically leap off the page with color and energy!

Witch Hat Atelier vol 10 by Kamome Shirahama

This series remains as visually stunning as ever but I'm struggling with how every single book expands the cast. There are so many characters now that I don't care about that much, and have trouble remembering from volume to volume. I wish the story line would stick more closely to Coco, her classmates, and their main mentors!

Delicious in Dungeon vol 9 by Ryoko Kui

Oh the stories are all converging! The savior at the bottom of the dungeon is probably a demon! Ituzumi saves the day! I am still having a great time reading this series.

A Dowry of Blood by ST Gibson read by Abby Craden 

A short, very queer, very poly retelling of Dracula focusing on his coven of enthralled lovers. I liked the way the book breezed through history, as the dysfunctional little family moved from one major European city to the next, with snatched moments of glittering joy interwoven with violence and plague. The story is fairly simple, and has a happier ending than I expected, or honestly think the characters deserved.

City of Dragons by Robin Hobb

I DNFed the previous book in this series and just read a summary online before skipping ahead to this one. I think that was a very good choice for me. This third one was more engaging and a bit more action packed, with some cool discoveries about the city of Kelsingra and the nature of Elderlings. But the Rain Wild Chronicles as a whole do not stand up to the quality of the Farseer books. There are so many POV characters that a few of them get only two or three scenes in this whole book. I don't feel that I deeply know any of these characters; while at the same time watching Hobb pair them off at an extraordinary rate- in the last book five sets of characters got together and in this book an additional two couples are developing feelings for each other. Between this and a kidnapping, a birth, a murder, and a lot of blackmail, this series feels like a soap opera.

Delicious in Dungeon vol 10 by Ryoko Kui

Almost two TPKs in this volume, yikes!

Delicious in Dungeon vol 11 by Ryoko Kui

You know shit's getting serious when the character who has been the series main villain up until now is partially devoured by a different, worse villain. Exciting changes coming to this dungeon under it's new lord and master!

Squad by Maggie Tokuda-Hall and Lisa Sterle

When Becca gets invited to sit with the popular girl clique at her new high school, she's thrilled. But the friendship turns bloody and complicated when she learns that her new friends are actually werewolves who need to kill and feed on a human once a month. If she joins them, Becca will gain superhuman strength and a pack; she'll never have to fear a male predator again, because she will be a predator herself. I loved the queer rep and the twist on werewolf lore; I wish it had been a little longer and more developed. Give me multi-page transformations sequences!

Delicious in Dungeon vol 12 by Ryoko Kui

I love seeing all these plot lines come together! Building towards a wild climax.

Delicious in Dungeon vol 13 by Ryoko Kui

I went out and *bought* vol 13 of this series because my library didn't have it yet, that's how hooked I am. And now I have to wait until JULY for the final volume! (But also, thank goodness I didn't get into this series any sooner or I'd have a much longer wait).

[theredhoodedcryptid]

Alrighty, here's more notes from my Jason Gotham Knights playthrough. I'm not finished yet, but what I've found so far is interesting. Also here's the link to my other post about the Labyrinth which I'll be referencing.

Starting off with basic observations:

When Jason first encounters an Owl's nest he states "Hello? I'm selling owl scout cookies."

Jason can somewhat play the piano. We only encounter playable pianos in Gotham Knights whenever you're infiltrating either an Owl base or the Monarch Theater, regardless both are one time story plots, making the the ability to play them very limited. While I haven't tried this with Babs and Dick yet, Tim can't (or won't) play. He just takes his hand and swipes it down the keys, whereas Jason plays a small part of a song. I don't know which one though.

The cutscene where Jason and Tim are bonding and working on Jason's weapons. This one is pretty familiar, Jason's weapons are leaning a little to far on the dangerous side of non-lethal. When Tim brings this up Jason dismiss it, stating most of their enemies wear heavy armor so it's fine. To make his point, Tim gets in front of Jason when he goes to shoot at a practice dummy, stating that if he really believes they're safe then to shoot him. Now the major thing people will notice with this scene is that Jason hesitates for a moment (I think he's remembering something, perhaps Titan's Tower if that happened in this universe?) before pointing his weapon away. Another interesting thing I noticed in this scene is that after he points his weapon away, Jason goes as far as removing the clip and also removing the rubber bullets. It's possible he's just doing this so they can work on it, but I think Jason is going to these lengths to show to Tim he won't hurt him (again). It's clear from an earlier cutscene where Jason had a knife and he absentminded pointed it at Tim to make a point about the conversation , but Tim flinched back and Dick subtly intervened. Something along Titan's Tower happened here, but to what extent I have no clue.

So far during my League of Assassins stuff they've not ambushed Jason. If you've played or watched the game then you might remember The Court and the League sometimes set up little traps to attack you while you're patrolling. Sometimes it's a hostage, but mainly it's a few dead bodies of the local gangs and a trapped chest with a bomb. In my other play throughs I've encountered a lot of this from both sides, but Jason's a little different. The traps are still there from the League, but nothing happens. I open a chest and it doesn't go off, it's a normal chest. And it's clearly the LOA because you can see black smoke hanging around the scene, which indicates their presence. With Jason they just back off and only interact during the main storyline. Is this perhaps because he was in the League of Assassins after his little bath in the green jello? Or maybe I'm not far enough in the plot for the League to really start attacking me, or maybe I'm experiencing glitches. Whose to say, but I found it very interesting.

I was kinda disappointed with Harley's and Jason's interactions. I mean, Jason was pretty chill and civil around her which is totally fine, but I was hoping for a bit more backstory nods. We have a lot to assume about the Gotham Knights universe, so any little bit helps. But nothing really was mentioned between those two. Even stuff with Talia hasn't been very fruitful so far. If cutscenes don't show me anything I'll have to do a deep dive in the audio files, codex, wiki, and any written materiel about GK. I need to know these people's back stories!

(A small side note of how I had this whole theory written out on how Tim might have been apart of the family before Jason died based on a cutscene, but then I remembered that Bruce's audio files explicitly state otherwise. Also that'd make my Titan's Tower theory have to many holes.)

Now for my favorite part, The Labyrinth!

(This is where my previous post mentioned before comes into play)

Now, during my last few playthorughs I've been trying to map out the reason behind how certain hallucinations happen, whether it's truly random or if it depends on which direction you take in the labyrinth. I haven't cracked it yet, but I hope that after playing as Dick and Babs I'll figure it out. Right now this is just my observations.

Everything in general has stayed the same, except for the order of what happens. Here's how this time went: Turned right at the Spike room, turned left at the phonograph room, weird floating vision, (accidentally walked into some spikes and got sent to the beginning but it lead to the next room without backtracking), turned right at Bruce's Grave, turned left at the Table Room, Vision of Jason in an Owl mask, Turned right at the Pit Room, vision of Bruce and the ending sequence. I got a couple of things different then my last analysis for Jason, but I'm leaning more on the different paths direction then the randomized. We'll see though.

As for the things Fake!Bruce says, it's pretty much the same thing as he said to Tim, only in a slightly different order. The only thing that was different was in the Pit Room, where he says "You were the worst Robin, no better then a killer. Now you're just nothing."

Anywho, I'm not done with Jaybirds playthrough yet, so I'll add to this post if I find anything else.

[halalspamhabibti]

An odd nightly encounter (Maldini vampire AU) (Drabble)

Description: Daniel Maldini starts doubting his normality

Notes: -I had this silly concept idea of Paolo Maldini being a vampire, even though I'm not a vampire fan at all, so I thought I'd Drabble with it using his son. -sorry if any one is OOC, I'm not that familiar with the players in this. -English is not my first language!! -just a Drabble! -mayyybe I'll write a part 2

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

In the middle of the cold and pitch-black night, Olivier was frantically yet quietly running after he had somehow managed to successfully steal something from the AC Milan headquarters,the tall and muscular Frenchman was running as fast as he could, which wasn't very fast, not only due to his notorious pace but also because he could barely see anything, before he could reach the car waiting for him, he froze right in his tracks in front of nothing but a pair of big, inhumanly bright, crystal teal eyes that didn't exactly convey a certain emotion, they even looked somewhat confused and surprised, but still stared piercingly through him, as soon as he retained his senses, he hurriedly turned on his flashlight and aimed the white beam straight at the eyes to see who or "what" they belonged to, and to his relief he immediately heard a familiarly cute groan of pain, not only did those eyes belong to a human, and that human was his young teammate, Daniel.

"Dani!" Cried Olivier in confused relief, he began to feel a bit frustrated at this odd interruption of his plans, "wh-what are you doing out all alone at this hour?" Olivier asked quickly without much thought, "me?" Daniel questioned while he finished rubbing his eyes after they were hit with the light, "I'm just taking a nightly stroll not too far from home, what are YOU doing frantically running in the middle of the night? And straight from Casa Milan?" Olivier panicked internally as he took into thought who Daniel's father is, not only did he fear being directly reported to the sporting director, but having THE Paolo Maldini disappointed in you is something nobody would want, without much thought into his excuses, he immediately tried to clear things up and shift the focus to something else, "w-well I'm just taking advantage of the empty streets to take a jog, y'know? Besides, at least I brought a flashlight with me, how come you're walking around in the black darkness? You wouldn't be able to see anything! Seems pretty suspicious to me..." Dani looked around, Olivier almost seized the opportunity to say goodbye when Dani suddenly became nervously excited to say something

"look, this is supposed to be a secret, but I can't help but tell someone, I can actually see in the dark, isn't that amazing?"

"Makes sense when you have glowing eyes that scare the hell out of people trying to jog, now that I remember, this isn't the first time I've seen them glow" Olivier replied with a bit of forced laughter, he was now fully relieved that his case was off, but then it fully hit him, "but it doesn't make sense..." he wondered, "there is no condition on earth that gives people the ability to see in pitch-black...how is that possible?" "Well my parents told me I was blessed with strong eyes like my father, and that they fed me lots of carrots as a baby" Daniel explained, in an honest and confident voice, there was no sense of deception in his tone whatsoever, this is truly what he knows

"Dani...that's not..that's not a logical explanation" Daniel stared for a bit after a moment of realization then he "now that I think about it, it really isn't, but that's all I've known.."

"Have you ever been taken to a doctor?"

"Of course, but none of it was ever about my eyes" Olivier thought for a moment, though he was sleepy and exhausted at this point, so his brain wasn't really on it's full motors, and then it looked like he

had come to a conclusion, more important a conclusion that'll make Dani forget about Olivier's odd "jogging"

"Dani, have you ever thought about how sharp your teeth are? they're like fangs.."

"Yes? What does that have to do with it?"

"Well I'm just saying, sharp teeth, along with night vision and glowing eyes, these are all traits of a vampire,no? Maybe your parents haven't told you yet?"

"...Olivier..you're nearly forty..you can't be believing in folktales.."

"Not if there's one standing in front of me"

"Oh for God's sake Olivier, if I'm a vampire then how the hell can i stand in the sun completely unharmed?"

"Well you could only be HALF vampire"

"So you mean-"

"yes! It would explain so much about your father!"

"Like what exactly?" Daniel had no idea why someone technically old enough to be his parent was still suggesting that he and his father were vampires, and at this time of night as well, he had become frustrated but was too tired to be visibly angry,

"Well, it would certainly explain his graceful aging...and his-"

"Olivier...please...I'm too tired for this,if my father is a vampire, then how come he can use a mirror just fine?"

"Well there has to be an explanati-" Olivier couldn't finish his sentence before he had to yawn, now he realized how late he was, and he remembered that his partner in crime was waiting for him in the car, "why don't we both go home and discuss this later, I really need to sleep" suggested Dani, "yes,yes,that's exactly what I was going to say" Olivier blurted hurriedly

"Ciao"

"Ciao"

Each one of them parted ways, with Olivier making sure Daniel is out of sight before he started running back to the car.

[lucyav13]

All bosses PT2

So, let's continue with this!

O'chunks again. Actually, is the villain that we fight the most.

King Croacus, yehah, I've talk about him in one last part, so go see it!

Mimi. Same.

Brobot XXL

Despite being an improved version of Brobot, the L-type has less HP, however this is due to the nature of the two battles: the original robot is fought using Squirps' laser fire, which is much more damaging than normal attacks, necessitating a greater amount of HP. Its attack and defense have been increased by one, however. And also It has been upgraded with hands and feet.

Additional information:

Catch Card: 194

HP MAX: 64

Attack: 5

Defense:  4 (8 against fire)Score: 6000

Card description: This is a souped-up version of Mr. L's robot. It looks like he went all out with the customizations. Too bad they don't help much!

Tatle: That's Brobot L-type. Mr. L pulled out all the stops to make this one... Most of its moves are the same, but it can now use its hands or tackle you... He seems to be weak to explosions, so try using Boomer on his feet... You remember that after setting a bomb, you can use 1 again to set it off, right?

Bowser. Again. What a surprise, not? At least, he's not the main villain and the final boss this time.

Underchomp. A great boss!

Despite the fact that Dorguy the Third is the one that summons it, the Underchomp's Catch Card states that all three Dorguys have ownership of the beast. The Underchomp is based upon the legendary hellhound Cerberus, a giant, three-headed dog who guarded the gates of Hades in Greek mythology. In one story, he was put to sleep by the music of Orpheus, which is similar to how Piccolo's music can put the Underchomp to sleep. 

Mario, Luigi, and Bowser face the enemy in a far different way from other enemies in the game; they fight the creature in a turn-based battle, though it is farther from the style of other Paper Mario games, and closer to that of the Dragon Quest titles and EarthBound Beginnings. Its battle music is an 8-bit remix of the normal mini-boss theme.

The player cannot use Tippi at any point during the battle with the Underchomp, and it does not appear in the field before or after the encounter, making it the only enemy in the game (and one of the few in the Paper Mario series) that cannot be Tattled. However, a Tattle exists in the game data.

Each head has a special ability. The Red Underchomp (left in battle) breathes crimson fire, the Blue Underchomp (middle one in battle) exhales blue fire, and the Yellow Underchomp (right one in battle) expels stinky breath. Each Underchomp can also charge up for one turn to use a stronger attack later.

Adittional information:

Catch Card: 104

HP: 48 (16 each)

Attack: 3

Defense: 4

Score: 6000

Card description: The three Dorguys command this special breed of Chomp. In off-hours they like to practice their comedy act. (A/N: ?)

Tattle: That's the Underchomp...It's a three-headed Chomp that guards The Underwhere...Max HP is 16, Attack is 3, Defense is 4. It's immune to flames...Its Defense is high, so try using Cudge, Boomer, Thudley, or any special attack. The three Dorguys enjoy springing this fearsome Chomp on unsuspecting travelers...

Bonechill. The most disappointing boss. 

He is an undead dragon with a large, blue-scaled head, six small, white-feathered wings on his back, and a large golden cannon with two wheels for a lower body. He is the leader of the Skellobit army and attempts a takeover of The Overthere. According to The InterNed, his theme is called "Bonechill Appears".

Tippi's tattle says that Bonechill may have once been a Nimbi, which is supported by the fact that he has feathered wings on his back. This fits into the overall motif of The Underwhere and The Overthere, which draw heavily from both Ancient Greek mythology and the Christian religion. In particular, the concept of a fallen angel (Nimbi) is inspired by the Biblical story of Lucifer, who became the devil after betraying God. Furthermore, in Dante's Inferno (of the epic Italian poem, the Divine Comedy), Lucifer (now known as Satan) is depicted as a giant, six-winged beast imprisoned in ice in the deepest circle of Hell. This is all paralleled by how Bonechill has six wings, was imprisoned deep below the Underwhere, and is a self-styled "master of the cold dark" who uses ice breath to attack and is "something of an evil celebrity in certain circles of the Underwhere". Similarly, his being released during an apocalyptic event (the emergence of The Void) may be derived from the Book of Revelation, where Satan escapes from hell and he and his army are battled and defeated in heaven.

 Fun facts: In the Japanese version, Bonechill used the archaic zansu conjugation of the auxiliary verb gozaimasu at the end of each sentence, which is typically used to characterize older, snobby, social-climbing females in fiction.

Bonechill is one of the two bosses in the game whose looks change as the player damages him; his scales begin to fall off as his HP declines. The other is Mimi, who gradually loses her legs over the course of the battle.

Additional information: 

Catch card: 187

HP: 80

Attack: 4

Defense: 

Score: 7000

Card description: Tremble before the frosty lord of the Underwhere! Bonechill's minty-fresh breath will freeze you solid! (A/N: What??)

Tattle: That's Bonechill. This frigid boss escaped from his prison in The Underwhere...Max HP is 80. Attack is 4. Bonechill will only be hurt by attacks to his head...To hit his head you'll need Luigi's super jump, or Thoreau to toss icicles...Bonechill's icy breath can freeze you into a soild herocicle...I don't know why, but I get the feeling he's related to Grambi and the Nimbis...I wonder if he was once a...

I'm not even going to bother putting up another image. Is O'chunks. 

Yehah, you guessed, is Mimi!, the creepy copycat.

Not again, this...

This one makes me want to talk. But, I already did it in a previous part, so go check it out >:) 

Well, the next one is Super Dimentio, BUT, I'll make a future part with all the info. Stay noticed!

Now, we'll check the most powerful bosses: the optionals. Let's keep goin'!

The first one of 'em. With all of you: Wracktail!!

Wracktail is a giant, lavender robotic dragon that appears in Super Paper Mario. He stated that he was a wrathful god who was locked away by the Tribe of Ancients, and Tippi says that he was the prototype for Fracktail, who looks identical to Wracktail except for his color. Before the fight, he expresses anger at the heroes for disturbing his slumber and decides to kill them in turn. Wracktail is found at the bottom of the Flipside Pit of 100 Trials and upon his defeat, Dashell, a Pixl, is obtained, and a Pipe appears, leading Mario and company back to the entrance of the Pit. Just as Fracktail is the Super Paper Mario equivalent of Hooktail from Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door, Wracktail is the counterpart to Bonetail.

To defeat Wracktail, the same tactics must be utilized as those used to defeat Fracktail. The player must wait for the boss to dive low along the ground, then jump on his back and use Thoreau to grab the Wrackles and throw them and Wracktail's antenna, which must be hit 30 times to defeat the dragon. It is also possible to damage the antenna by stomping it, either via Luigi's super jump, or by landing on it when Wracktail flies in a loop. (A/N: By the way, this made me feel so fool. Because I wanted to defeat him in the conventional way 'cause a Video tutorial, but, not being able to defeat him, I did arduous research until I realized that I could defeat him with Luigi :/ )

Upon defeat, Wracktail warns the heroes that he was not the only monster created by the Ancients, referring to Shadoo, and directs them to the Flopside Pit of 100 Trials.

Fun facts:  Contrary to what his Catch Card description in English versions claims, Wracktail is only ten times stronger than Fracktail, not 100 times.

His Catch Card description in the Japanese version claims he is Fracktail's "father" and simply mentions that he is stronger than his "son" despite fighting the same way. It also does not directly mention his status as the boss of the Flipside Pit of 100 Trials, instead stating that he lurks "somewhere in this world".

Unlike Fracktail, who speaks almost entirely in capital letters, Wracktail's speech is in the game's standard style. This is partially reversed in the Japanese version, where Fracktail only lapses into mostly-katakana speech when "scanning" Mario and while under Dimentio's spell, and Wracktail speaks entirely in katakana and kanji with katakana furigana. (A/N: I don't even know what does it means 🫥🫥)

Additional information:

Catch card: 181

HP:  ?? (30 hits)

Attack: 10

Defense: 

Score: 9990

Card description: This baddest baddie in the Flipside Pit of 100 Trials. He may fight like Fracktail, but he's 100 times stronger.

Tattle: That's Wracktail, the very menacing lord of the Flipside Pit of 100 Trials. Max HP is ??. Attack is 10. It can fly and swoop down with its big open mouth... I think this is a prototype of an improved Fracktail from the Yold Desert... The Ancients must have built it. But like Fracktail, its antenna is its weak spot...

Omg, I didn't notice that I've never do a chap with Shadoo!! I'll fix it, I promise in the new part along with Superdimentio. I apologize. 

Now yes, the last one! 

The guardian of the 100th and final gate. His name is fittingly a reference to the last boss in a game. When End Boss is defeated, he attempts to cue end credits. End Boss can breathe fire, use a rolling attack, and attack with his club. Despite his name, it is possible for him to not be the final boss, as the player can battle Wracktail and Shadoo after him.

Additional info: 

As strange as it may seem, it does not have catch card, idk. 

Max HP 99

Attack 10

 Defense 4

 Size Big

Color Gold

 Weapon Spiked

 Club Special abilities Fire Breath, Rolling, Fast

Spiked? Yes (A/N: Would someone be kind enough to tell me what it means?)

Tattle: That's End Boss, one of King Sammer's famous Sammer Guys… He won a Sammy at last year's Sammer Awards for Best Final Boss Performance…

And those would be (almost) all the bosses in the game. Now, a challenge for you: If this publication reaches more than 150 notes, I will make a part listing all the Samiteros, by name and surname.

[bookaddict24-7]

REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

Books I’ve read so far in 2023!

Friend me on Goodreads here to follow my more up to date reading journey for the year!

___

140. Club Dead by Charlaine Harris--⭐️⭐️⭐️

Re-read in 2023!

Screw you, Bill. That's my main takeaway from this one again--my feelings on him being a crap boyfriend remain intact.

I also appreciated Sookie talking about money and how hard it has been for her to keep going and making ends meet. It's weirdly cathartic, especially when we compare the difference of how financially difficult life was in comparison to the financial difficulties of today. But also because I think a lot of the time, in these books (at least in the past), we focus so much on the relationships and the will-they/won't-they themes that we don't focus on the general lives of the characters. I'm excited to see what else comes Sookie's way! So glad I'm doing this re-read!

___

141. Tress of the Emerald Sea by Brandon Sanderson--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Beyond the romantic idea that Sanderson essentially wrote this for his wife, this was such a fun and clever story full of adventure and hilarious moments. I enjoyed this so much more than I was expecting to, but I shouldn't have doubted because Sanderson's writing always scratches that one little fantasy itch you never knew was waiting to be scratched.

I loved the characters and how they all came together for this memorable adventure. Especially the narrator and how they spoke to us despite their current self not...being the way we expected them to be.

Also, my favourite and obvious theme was how it is a young woman who essentially saves the day. Sanderson's wife supposedly commented on how Buttercup didn't really do much to save her man in THE PRINCESS BRIDE, and I was curious to see what a more modern-day adaptation might look like. I wasn't disappointed because his mc is a badass who did all she could to save the love of her life.

While there were definitely some slower moments in the story, the dialogue and witty commentary will surely bring you back! Highly recommend it to anyone who wants a surprisingly humorous adventure set on another planet's oceans full of unexpected dangers.

___

142. The Encounter by K.A. Applegate--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I am genuinely enjoying the heck out of this series!

THE ENCOUNTER is from the perspective of the one kid whose unfortunate actions in book one changed his life forever. Keeping that in mind made this book so incredibly heartbreaking. There's obviously the pain of missing what his reality once was, but seeing his fight to keep the past part of him alive despite his life changing so much made me hurt so much for him. I think his actions during this book were perfectly suited to his age, because he is, after all, just a child.

I really hope we see a better outcome for him in the future. My heart aches knowing that he is the cautionary tale for the other kids in the group.

Yes, these books are fun and full of adventure and I love that they are actually meant to be read in order. But I think that in between those suspenseful moments, the reader needs to remember that these are kids fighting a very non-kid friendly war.

___

143. I Survived the Sinking of the Titanic, 1912 by Lauren Tarshis--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

As a bookstore employee, I'm enjoying reading these books because I can give better explanations to my younger customers! Also, these are just really fun bite-sized reads.

The titanic was a massive tragedy, so it was interesting to see it from the perspective of a child who had a better chance of actually surviving the sinking (a wealthy child). It made me think of a very, very condensed version of REFUGEE.

If you want a quick and eye-opening snack of history, I'd recommend this series!

___

144. Monster Blood by R.L. Stine--⭐️⭐️

I don't even know anymore. LOL this book was something. Not the worst I've read in the GOOSEBUMPS series, but I do wish it had a bit more character development because, honestly, is it normal for kids who have just met to trust each other so thoroughly in the case of human-eating slime? Would you, as a precocious child, put your life in danger for the random kid you literally just met?

This is why I should have read these as a child. As an adult, my stranger danger alarms are just shining bright like a diamond.

___

145. Camp Damascus by Chuck Tingle--⭐️⭐️⭐️

I went into this book with way too many expectations and that's my fault. I expected a gory and disturbing horror story set in a camp, what I got was a deeply disturbing exploration of the toxic world of cult-like religion that sent gay teens and young adults to Camp Damascus so they could be "cured" by any means possible...even if those means may be out of this world.

The book had it's moments of spook and legitimate chills because some of the language is deeply disturbing. Massive trigger warning for anyone who has trauma related to a religious upbringing. I wasn't raised in this way and I was deeply disturbed.

I wish I'd gone in with no expectations because I think I might have enjoyed it more. Was it fun? Absolutely! But I was very sad to see that it wasn't the setting I was hoping for. I know that a lot of other people will enjoy this book way more, and honestly that makes me happy!

That ending was great though--the explosion of build-up from the rest of the book was well worth the wait!

___

146. Imogen, Obviously by Becky Albertalli--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

There are only a few books where I can say I related a little too much to the main characters. Usually, it's books exploring my immigrant background, or growing up plus-sized, but this is the first time I've read a LGBTQ+ book where I related so much to the mc and her journey to understanding her sexuality and who she is as a person.

I grew up surrounded by heteronormativity. Any moment in my childhood where I was one step away from realizing my sexuality, something or someone was there to remind me that I can't stray too far. I had a friend who wasn't the greatest of allies and I still believe that set me back a million years. Coming to terms with who I am in my late 20's and early 30's was a massive mind-fuck. Suddenly, I started thinking about all of the signs and moments I ignored so I could stay in my little bubble. Reading IMOGEN, OBVIOUSLY by Becky Albertalli was like having a mirror put up to my face with a character yelling, "I told you so" (and plot twist, that character yelling is my younger self who always argued against me hiding my truth.)

Imogen, the mc, has a friend in this book who is the personification of doubts a new member of the LGBTQ+ community may feel when they finally let themselves step out of the closet. "Am I queer enough? Do I have a right to be queer when I haven't experienced half of the things other people in the community have experienced?" This friendship was toxic and a reminder that every community has its darker side. I wanted to hug Imogen for the doubts this friend seeded in her. But I wanted to celebrate her childhood friend who helped her understand that she is valid.

Yes, there is an incredibly adorable (and quick) romance in this one, but I think more than that, what needs to be celebrated is the support of non-toxic friends, and the personal growth Imogen experienced despite the storm brewing inside of her.

This book was difficult to read because of how incredibly relatable it was and because I know this is also something Albertalli wrote from her own experiences. I often worry about what others think of me when I approach the topic of being a part of the LGBTQ+ community and thankfully, I have some amazing friends who help support me. But I can't help but think of the other kids or younger adults who don't have that support, or guidance. This book could genuinely help so many questioning readers.

Through quick, witty, personable, and deeply emotional writing, Albertalli has created a novel that I recommend to everyone--whether they're a part of the community or an ally. Words and assumptions have more power than a lot of people seem to think.

___

147. Far From True by Linwood Barclay--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

As always, Linwood Barclay entertained me and kept me hooked. I'm always amazed by the twist and turns and the moments where my jaw genuinely drops because of the reveals.

I'll hopefully be reading the third one in the series soon--I'm curious to see why 23 is so important and who is behind it all! I'm totally reading this series out of order, but book four thankfully didn't spoil it for me!

Onto the next one!

___

Have you read any of these? What are your thoughts?

___

Happy reading!

[beansterpie]

For the character bingo: Griffith, Farnese, The Fool, aaaand your favourite Eyeshield 21 character, whoever that may be.

<3 <3 <3 tyyy for the ask! most of which I will putting under a cut because this is quite long lol so GRIFFITH:

Oh were to start <3

Griffith is such a wonderful character who's been living rent free in my brain for the past? Several years?? But I also haven't encountered a character who incites quite so much vitriolic hatred like he does, especially considering that he's written to be quite sympathetic imo. The amount of terrible takes out in the wild web is bonkers, thus the 'everyone but me (and my friends) are wrong about him' and 'done dirty by the fans'. Regarding being done dirty by the creators, that's still up in the air-- depends on how his arc ends. But seeing as the whole moonbaby thing uh exists, I think my choice is valid.

I love Griffith and Guts equally, in large part because of the way they orbit one another, so they both work better as a dynamic (which each other <3) and he's one of the two best characters in the work imo. There's so much wrong with this boy, but I'm adamant that he's never done anything wrong ever in his life, and this opinion really IS like swinging a bat at a hornet's nest lmfaooo. Fight me about it!!

That being said though, in large part because of his Issues™ and Actions™, no I would not want to meet him irl. Even if the eclipse didn't happen, he's just too intense and messy man, I don't wanna deal with that. I just wanna watch and poke him from afar.

FARNESE

Farense is one of those characters where I really like her potential as a character, but I'm largely disappointed with how she turned out lol. I think her initial character traits were really fascinating, and quite unique! Plus her complicated relationships with her half brother is also really frought with tension, but then halfway through her personality basically does a 180 and all the things that were interesting about her mostly up and disappear. AND, so far anyway, the issues between her and Serpico have just been left hanging. So yeah, loved when there was something deeply wrong with her, and never want to meet her because of it, so I like the version of her that I wish she had been.

THE FOOL

It's them!! I love the Fool (or Beloved, his true name), he is so precious. He is put through so much shit, though that isn't the reason why I think he was done dirty (well, not the only reason). That's for lack of follow through with FitzFool as a ship lmfaooo I just wanted them to be happy together and I was so mad to learn that doesn't actually really happen. I would love to see the Fool in every book in the series, and to be more prominant in the ones that he IS in because he's great and that's that. And he really DID nothing wrong ever in his life, and I'm not even being all that tongue and cheek about it lol. Usually characters who are just Good™ can be a bit boring, but he's just such an endearing mix of mischevious, mysterious, and genuinely kind, that I can't help but love him.

EYESHIELD 21 CHARACTER: HIRUMA

YA-HA BABEY!

I've been rereading es21 lately and ugh, I love him your honor. He's kind of a strange character to describe, because in a lot of ways he starts off less as a character and more just this narrative force of nature that exists to make crazy, badass things happen since our protagonist is like, the meekist of meek in personality, and nothing would happen if it was left up to him lol. But as the series progresses you do see glimpses of his humanity, and he loves football!! and his friends!! And he's just UGH so over the top but so relatable and inspiring? Weird combo but there it is.

But yeah he is a difficult character to capture I think, because bluffing is like breathing to him and he's also at least half a loonytoons character. (He and Bugs Bunny should really hang out) So while I have definitely seen good depictions of him in fic and art and stuff, I also see looootsss of stuff where I'm like 'he would NOT say/do that' hfhfh. Plus I have specific hc's about him that I'm pretty adamant about. Also he's the fandom bicycle, and I think the ships are all fairly valid, but the really popular ones are the ones that I actively don't ship so.

He is such a fun character, but I would hate to meet him in real life because he'd probably blackmail me into doing menial jobs for him with no reward soooooo that is also why there are many things wrong with him lol. He's the kind of character that works because the story he's in is also really over the top-- if you met him in real life, he'd just be in jail.

[casualjacobwrites]

FFXIV Write 2023 Prompt #15 - Portentous

Fighting against the "this is terrible" brain worms.

Ahem, anyway, here I am once again with my OT3 because I like thinking that no one is gonna talk shit about Urianger while Thancred and Pasha are around.

Word Count: 1143

---

As much as Pasha enjoyed receiving recognition for her many feats and heroic deeds, she much preferred anonymity when traveling with Thancred and Urianger. Despite being the Warrior of Light people around the Source didn't know her face. So long as she didn't reveal her full name most people assumed she was just another adventurer or a sell sword. To further assist her in staying in the shadows Thancred showed her a myriad of ways to blend into a crowd or to appear otherwise unassuming even under intense scrutiny.

The downside to hiding meant that they had to disabuse the occasional ne'er-do-well of the notion she was an easy mark. Typically this happened in taverns where too many drinks led some folks to believe themselves invincible. Someone would harass the waitstaff or other patrons and Pasha would feel honor bound to intervene, or they'd explore the rougher part of a town and run afoul of brigands. Most of the time all that was required was a bit of posturing and some unkind words to make them back down, but there was always the chance someone would press her only to be sent home with more than a few bruises. Thancred was ever eager to assist when needed while Urianger verbally expressed his disappointment with a barely contained smile that belied his amusement.

Not all of their encounters resulted in a physical altercation, nor was Pasha always the target. On a visit to Kugane, the trio split off to different parts of the port city to resupply and listen out for any news of interest. When Pasha returned to the tea shop kiosk they agreed to meet at, she found Thancred standing off to the side with an amused expression. She followed his gaze to see that Urianger was speaking to a gaggle of young children. Puzzled, she walked over to Thancred.

He greeted her with a nod. “He's telling them about his cards and their meaning,” he said as though he'd read her quizzical expression. “He must have tried to do a reading.”

“In the middle of the city?”

Thancred shrugged his shoulders. “Something must have compelled him, or maybe the children saw his star globe. I've heard rumors there's people who practice an art similar to astrologians here.”

Pasha made a noncommittal noise as she continued to observe Urianger's enthusiastic lecture. There was nothing he loved more than to share knowledge and it was fun to watch him in his element. The sound of giggling nearby pulled her attention away and she noted a pair of young hyuran women not far from her.

The first woman elbowed the second woman's side. “Did you hear him?”

The second woman wrinkled her nose. “I did. I've never heard such speech. 'Doth thou knowest the meaning of this symbol?'” She snickered at her own impersonation of Urianger.

“He's terribly portentous,” the first woman agreed. “Those poor children.”

Pasha had barely taken a step before Thancred's hand was around her wrist. “Don't,” he warned. “Let it go.” She started to agree, but then she heard the second woman speak again.

“He's one of those useless men, isn't he? All that knowledge makes him think he's got something to offer.”

Pasha felt Thancred's hand let go of her as he exhaled a disappointed sigh. A cruel smile formed on her lips as she approached the women. “Excuse me,” she said, “I couldn't help but overhear your conversation.”

The first woman had the decency to look a bit embarrassed while the second woman looked Pasha over from head to toe with blatant disgust. “Did your mother never teach you it's rude to eavesdrop, particularly when it's your betters?”

Pasha didn't rise to the bait, her smile unfaltering as she gestured toward Urianger. “Do you see that mark on his face? Do you know what that is?”

The first woman looked over, her brow furrowing when she saw the tattoo. “An archon's mark.”

“Very good,” Pasha replied as though speaking to a very small child.

“So he's a stuffy old scholar,” the second woman cut in. “Doesn't mean much outside of Old Sharlayan.”

“Maybe so, but there's something you should know about that archon over there.” Pasha leaned in a bit, dropping her voice so only the women would hear. “He traveled with the Warrior of Light to the ends of the universe.” She waited a moment for realization to set in before continuing. “In case you need me to spell it out for you, that means the stuffy old scholar is the reason this world continues to exist.”

“H-he's a Scion?” The look of horror on the first woman's face was worth it. She grabbed hold of her companion's dress sleeve and began to try to pull her away. The second woman, however, refused to budge.

“I don't believe you.”

“You should.” Thancred appeared from behind, cocking his head to one side ever so slightly in order to draw attention to the archon's mark on his neck. “You should also show a bit of respect for your betters.”

Both women looked at Thancred then to Pasha, their eyes going wide as the realization hit them. She wasn't sure what to call the shade of red the second woman's face turned, but it was still amusing to watch her finally give in to her friend's silent pleas to leave the area. After they had disappeared over the bridge, she glanced back at Thancred.

“Do you think we have to worry about my presence being known?”

“I doubt it,” he answered. “If they tell anyone what happened, they'll have to admit they insulted both a Scion and the Warrior of Light. That won't go over very well.” He turned his attention back to Urianger and the children. “Looks like the lecture is coming to an end.” He reached for Pasha's hand, slipping his fingers through hers. “He can be a bit stuffy.”

She smiled and squeezed his hand. “Not behind closed doors, when it's just us.”

Thancred tilted his head as if considering her statement before nodding in agreement. “If only those ladies knew what they were missing.” He waved at Urianger with his free hand when the archon noticed them at long last.

Pasha waved as well and said, “You're no more inclined to share him than I am.”

“Fair point.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “What do you say we take our stuffy old scholar to the bathhouse?”

“He won't agree unless we get a private room.”

Thancred flashed her a devilish grin. “As you said, I'm rather disinclined to share him with anyone apart from you.”

Realizing he intended for them to do more than enjoy a hot soak in the bath, warmth crept into Pasha's cheeks. The very idea of it was far too tempting to refuse. “We'll drag him there if we have to.”

[mishkakagehishka]

You know it's very funny because reading the bit about the self aware au just brought out like the worst in me and I couldn't help but think (mostly due to the ritsu part, because boy don't you dare touch my dia) "oh yeah? Two can play that game you know. Touch my día and you're dead to me. What if I decide to never open the game again? What if I uninstall you? What if I forcefully break my phone and buy a new one that has nothing in common with the last one? You won't see me ever again, is that what you want? Don't test how far my spite, anger and disappointment can take me."

Because within the context of "you don't quite know what's going on, but there's something wrong" and especially if you do not realize they're self-aware, they're still just kinda.... A bunch of pixels? So if they bring you more pain than the joy they once did, why wouldn't you get rid of them? If you realize they are actually self-aware that night bring more problems though (moral conundrums y'know y'know)

Anyway I love the concept it's so fun to think about <3 I'm also blaming the worst parts of my thinking process currently on "I'm salty due to my lack of sleep and the blorbos are going to pay for it"

Under the cut for length! As always, yandere is not something I approve of or see as romantic, instead I see it as horror - and similarly see the yandere self-aware stuff as the cousin of the "i got a haunted game at a yard sale" creepypastas lolol

No but you're exactly right. Let's imagine, for a moment, that something like "the pixels become self-aware" actually happens - you might think off-handedly "oh, wow, like those sci-fi movies where the AI becomes conscious and destroys the world", but that's exactly it. You'll think "sci-fi", "movie", "world's end" and it's all very unrealistic. I don't think anybody's really immune to the "But it won't happen to me" mindset especially with something as far-fetched as that. So, even if you think about it, you'd likely just wave it off as a funny joke you came up with and instead go ahead believing you're experiencing a weird bug. Honestly, I've seen weirder playing enstars, and I've had bugs that seemingly nobody else has encountered, so I wouldn't even be fazed. Might e-mail support if it gets really bad (as in - if Ritsu yoinks my hard-earned dia), but I wouldn't be overly worried.

But spite is always a good trait to have in these cases. And literally - imagine you're saving up for a feature scout for the character you produce above all else (instead of an event, bc I think scouts being reliant on luck will often mean you'll end up spending a lot more than on events), let's say you managed to rack up enough for 100 pulls - not even halfway to the point where you'd get pity, but not an amount to sneeze at by any means either. Tomorrow the scout opens, and, if need be, you can still grind some stuff, an upcoming event, some songs you haven't S+ combo'd, and so on, but it won't give you a lot of dia. Maybe for another 10pull - maybe - but every little bit counts.

And then this bitch (lol) on your homescreen gets jealous. Maybe you've skipped his event scout because you wanted to make sure you had dia for this other idol, and he can't have that. So he just... erases your dia. Doesn't even spend it on anything, simply takes those hard-earned 3,500 dia and changes the code into a sweet little zero (this hurt to write). Emailing support wouldn't even help as it's not really a bug, and I imagine it'd be hard to prove you even had the dia in the first place and that it just disappeared. It wouldn't surprise me if someone would be discouraged enough to drop the game. Especially if you're f2p - it's no easy task grinding dia. But I don't think Ritsu would really know what his actions could have as consequence - he'd act out of emotion and on impulse, and wouldn't really realise the problem until suddenly the player is only getting the daily logins, then they log in once a week, then once a month, and then they stop playing. Support was no help, the event scout came and went, and the player, discouraged and disappointed, lost interest. Soon enough, the game is uninstalled, and Ritsu has an eternity in the void to think about how his unhealthy jealousy and impulsive actions brought him that loneliness.

Although if you then make the connection of "Hey, wait a minute, didn't Ritsu literally threaten me with this?" you're definitely better off just buying a new phone before installing enstars again. I imagine the self-awareness like a virus, it stays on your phone the same way game data sticks around if you reinstall a game, except they kinda leak into every crevice of your phone, able to connect to anything the phone connects to, so if you charge your phone on your pc, and then install enstars on the pc through an emulator, you get the "corrupted" enstars there, too.

And dhbdjdjd entirely understandable... i hope you'll be able to get some shut-eye later in the day <3 or at least a moment to sit down and chill!

[brrahbrrahcharacterimagines]

Groceries (Might Guy x Reader)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Might Guy x Reader

Word Count: 2723

Warnings: very minor angst, food mentions (TW for EDs)

A/N: Hope you enjoy! I've been so thirsty for Naruto characters recently it's not even funny

Also, this was originally two parts but I've combined them into one so let me know if the transition doesn't work!

Growing up in Konoha you always felt safe. You knew there were experienced shinobi there to protect you. As a little girl, you would see them walk down the streets and watch in awe as they passed by you.

Despite everything you had seen in terms of violence, you still felt safe in the Leaf Village. There had been some tense battles, but the leaf shinobi always prevailed.

It was a day more peaceful than most as you made your way down to the store. You only needed a few things, but with the nice weather you decided to take advantage of the day instead of waiting for the grocery list to get longer.

Smiling, you walked into the store to the tune of children laughing and birds chirping. It was like you were in a movie.

You made your way down the aisles, picking up the items you needed as you went. Milk, eggs, noodles, and more went into the small cart in your hands as you browsed. Lost in your own world, you didn't see the other cart as it came around the corner at the same time as your own.

The carts crashed into each other, you and the other person with them. It almost winded you, both from surprise and the force of falling into the cart.

"I am so sorry!" You explained, looking up to the man you found in front of you. Luckily, neither of your groceries seemed to have sustained much damage. You found yourself surprised to be met with the most gorgeous dark eyes you had ever seen.

"It's no problem!" Said the man, flashing you a confident smile with a thumbs up. "No damage done."

You felt a hot flush rise to your face, but thankfully the man didn't seem to notice.

"Thank you," you said in a fluster. You weren't sure what you were even thanking him for, not yelling at you? It was then that you took notice of his outfit, especially the band around his waist. "Are you a shinobi?"

The smile stayed ever-present on his face.

"Yes I am! A jonin of the Hidden Leaf Village!"

If you had just half the enthusiasm of this man, you think you would be running on empty in less than five minutes. Hearing he was a jonin, you were impressed.

"Well, thank you for all that you do," you offered, moving to continue your shopping.

Although your interaction was brief, you couldn't stop thinking about it as days passed. Something about his eyes, and his confidence, drew you into him. You tried to brush it off, seeing as it was such a simple interaction, but it was impossible. Even trying to tell yourself that he didn't remember you wouldn't work; there was still a part of your brain that would never quiet down.

You had never minded being a civilian in Konoha. Sure, when you were younger you had thought about being a konoichi, but those were just the thoughts of a child. You never pursued it. You were happy with your career, teaching young children in subjects other than jutsu.

Despite your happiness, you began to wish that you had gone to the academy. Then you would have been able to find the man who was plaguing your thoughts. Even after that, you might have been a real option for him. You knew shinobi tended to mostly be interested in other shinobi.

You didn't know why it upset you so much. You didn't even know the man's name, and yet you were sad that you might not be his type. Feeling a bit pathetic, you found yourself in need of another grocery run. Trying to ignore the thought that you might see him again, you made your way to the store.

Sadly, at least for that persistent, gremlin part of your brain, the trip was rather uneventful. At least, until you found yourself in front of the produce.

You were trying to eat healthier, but it was hard. It wasn't that you didn't like your body, you just wanted to feel better in your own skin. As you stood there pondering, a male voice scared you from your thoughts.

"Excuse me."

You turned, disappointed to see a man with silver spikes instead of the dark bowl cut you had hoped for. You mumbled a sorry, stepping out of his way.

"Careful Kakashi," boomed another voice, "I'd keep your distance from that woman's cart if I were you."

Now that is the voice you had been hoping for.

As you turned, the tall man immediately caught your eye. You blushed at his words, remembering your initial encounter. The other man, Kakashi, looked at you with confusion. He grabbed what he needed before walking away, leaving you and the other man alone.

"So what brings you back here?" He asked. Normally you would have thought of this as awkward conversation, but your heart leapt at the opportunity to talk to him again.

You sighed, "I'm trying to decide what I want. I wanted something healthy but I didn't want to just start grabbing vegetables."

"Then you're in luck," he grinned, "I'm somewhat of an expert. Try some blueberries, they're a superfood." He grabbed a package, placing them in his own cart. "They're on me today."

You tried to protest, but he wasn't having any of it. You made your way through checkout, paying the rest of your items before meeting back up with the man.

"Thank you," you told him, looking back up at his deep eyes. Pausing for a moment, you realized something. "I don't even know your name! How could I thank you for buying these before me without even learning your name?"

The man chuckled, extending his hand out to you.

"The name's Guy," he said loudly, shaking your hand. "Would it be crazy to ask for your name in return?"

You blushed as you grabbed his hand, his grip firm yet his hands soft.

"Y/n," you told him. He smiled.

"That's a beautiful name." His words did nothing to help calm the blush on your face. You were sure he knew exactly what he was doing to you based on the color of your cheeks alone. Suddenly Guy grew rather sheepish. "I know how this is going to sound, but would you want to come by my place sometime?"

Your eyes widened. After all this time wondering what this man was really like, he was just the type to invite you into bed with him immediately? Admittedly part of you was curious, but you weren't stupid.

"Excuse me?"

Now it was his turn to blush.

"Well I know how that sounds," Guy said quickly, trying to get his words out faster than he could think. "But I just meant to make you dinner. I could show you how to cook some vegetables so that they aren't all that bad."

Immediately you felt bad for assuming the worst, offering him a small smile.

"I would like that."

He smiled back at you. Guy gave you his address as the two of you decided on a time before parting ways. You couldn't help the giddy grin that covered your face as you walked home. Your date couldn't come fast enough.

---

In the days leading up to your date with Guy, it was all you could think about. You told yourself that was fine, since you were obsessing over him already. At least now you had a reason to.

The day was finally here, and as the hours ticked away you found yourself growing more nervous. Deciding what to wear was a challenge in itself. Did you want to try to dress up nicer, or would that be too much? Yet at the same time you worried dressing too casual would give him the idea that you weren't as interested as you were.

You tried on just about everything you owned, settling for a dress that made you feel pretty. It was fancy enough to make you feel like you were trying, but still casual enough that you would be comfortable.

You looked at the clock, seeing that you still had ample time before you needed to leave. Sitting down, your mind wandered. What would tonight be like?

in your mind you ran through a myriad of scenarios. If you didn't like the food he cooked, you would have to just stomach it and hope for the best. Based on what he told you at the store though, it seemed like he would know what he was doing. Still, you worried that something would go wrong.

Above all, there was a bigger question ringing out in your mind. Would he try to kiss you? And, would you want him to?

The seconds turned to minutes as you pondered, the minutes turning into hours until it was time to go. You collected your things, making sure to grab any and all essentials before you left. You had already told your friends who you would be with, going as far as to give them the address should anything go wrong. Guy seemed like such a nice guy, but you could never be too careful.

Locking the door to your apartment behind you, you set off. It was early in the evening, and the sun was just beginning to set in the sky. You were thankful you wouldn't have to walk in the dark. You knew there were plenty of shinobi around, hell, you were even meeting one right now. But even then you felt uncomfortable walking home alone at night, surrounded by darkness.

It was a shorter walk than you anticipated, and before you knew it you were at his place. Taking a deep breath, you reached up to knock on his door. It seemed like a nice enough part of town, and his place itself was well-kept especially considering how much time you were sure he spent on training.

You heard Guy's loud steps make their way to the doorway, pausing on the other side before the door swung open. His usual confident smile was on his face, but instead of moving his mouth into words he just looked at you. You felt yourself growing red under his gaze.

"Hello Guy," you said softly, looking up at him.

-

Guy had been making the same amount of preparations as you, if not even more. He planned the meal out carefully, even practicing it the night before to make sure it went well. He had spent more time than usual perfecting his hair, making sure not a single strand would be out of place. He had even thought of exactly what he wanted to say when he opened the door.

Hello Y/n, he would say as he smiled at you. You look more beautiful every time I see you.

Sure, it was more forward than he had been with you before. This was a date after all, and he wanted to make how he felt about you clear from the start.

That plan went right out the window when he saw you, your sundress captivating him. It looked so cute on you, and at the same time there was something about it that sent a wave of tingles between his legs. To put it simply, he was speechless.

He knew he should say something but he couldn't, enraptured by the way you looked in his doorway.

"Hello Guy," you said to him. That sweet voice of yours would drive him crazy someday, and he knew that. He loved hearing his name fall from your lips, hoping it would be far from the last time. Everything about you made him fall for you more.

Despite his thoughts about your voice, your words were enough to stir him to action himself.

"Hey," he said.

Really Guy? He thought to himself. You're the Blue Beast, a strong shinobi. And yet all you can say to a woman is 'hey'?

You giggled at him, and he felt a smile creep onto his face.

"It's good to see you again," he continued. He decided to dial back the forwardness, realizing he had already kept you waiting outside for too long in his daze. "Come on in."

-

You followed Guy into his home, taking in the delicious aroma filling the rooms.

"I don't know what you're making," you stated, "but it smells amazing."

Guy beamed with pride, ushering you over to the kitchen.

"It's my favorite." He told you. "A spicy, vegetable curry."

Thankfully, you didn't mind spicy. In fact, you enjoyed it. Your mouth watered, taking in the sight and smell of the food in front of you.

"Actually, it should be just about done." Said Guy, stirring it all for a final time before putting it onto beautiful dishes to serve.

He had already set the table, candles and all. He pulled the chair out for you, pushing you back in as if you weighed nothing. He sat across from you, and the way he smiled at you made you weak in the knees. It's a good thing you had already sat down.

You wasted no time, digging in. And it was delicious.

"Oh my god Guy," you said in near disbelief at how good it was. You could see his expression perk up. "This is amazing!"

"I'm glad you like it," he chuckles, eating his own.

The rest of the meal went off without a hitch. You talked about your job and his, bonding over your love for your respective students.

"Maybe sometime I can come watch one of your training sessions," you mentioned. "I would love to see you teach them."

Guy smiled, "I would love that." The sincerity in his tone took you by surprise. While you knew he was never joking with you, there was always some sort of bravado to his speech that now was missing.

You helped him clean up despite his protests. You told him that if he cooked, you would at least clean up. It was only fair, after all. You scrubbed the dishes, oblivious to the way Guy was looking at you.

He never would have admitted it to anyone but himself, but he was falling in love with you. He had no problem picturing a life with you. Coming up to you at the end of the day, sharing a meal together. He wanted everything that life would bring him.

"Well," you said, finishing up, "I should probably get going."

"Let me walk you," insisted Guy. "A lady such as yourself should never walk alone at night."

He offered his arm to you, and you accepted it with a shy smile. You could feel his prominent muscles under the fabric of his outfit, and you could feel your face growing warmer. You were thankful for the darkness for obscuring your face from him, hoping he couldn't tell.

He could tell.

As the two of you made your way back towards your own apartment he would flex his muscles every so often, loving the way your face would flush. A couple of times he timed it right so that you were speaking, making you stutter.

The walk ended much earlier than either of you would have liked it to. Suddenly your heart started racing. You could answer your questions from earlier clearly.

Would he try to kiss you?

You sure hoped so.

Would you want him to?

Definitely.

You paused in your doorway, letting go of Guy's arm. You looked up at him, flashing him a genuine smile.

"I had fun tonight."

He reciprocated your own expression with a smile of his own, "me too."

You both paused for what seemed like the longest second in the world. It was as if he was building up the courage to actually go through with what he wanted to. He cleared his throat.

"Y/n, may I kiss you?"

You nodded your head and he lowered his lips to yours slowly. As you pressed your own lips to his you couldn't help the gasp that escaped them.

That's a sound I'll keep replaying... thought Guy.

He pulled away sooner than you would have liked, but he was a gentleman.

"I'll see you soon." Guy ended his sentence with a wink, sauntering off as you went to go inside.

"I can't wait."

[sukunarii]

Omiki: “I've never known the lovin' of a man But it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand.” the band perry - if i die young

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

Type: Heian Era

Synopsis: You were part of the Zenin family, valued for being a Ten-Shadow Technique user. However, you’ve decided to run away because your family have been exploiting you for your technique. While running away, you encounter Sukuna who seems to have taken an interest in you.

A/N: Minor Manga Spoiler about Jujutsu Techniques! Also I swear these “drabbles” are getting longer and longer lol. 1.4K words!

You sprinted down the market street, shuffling through the crowds of people. You can faintly hear loud and chaotic shouts "Get her!" "Don't let her get away!". You dared to take a glance behind you to see the guards chasing you. They were still far behind. However, the moment you were about to turn your head to look forward again, you bumped into someone. Despite your speed when you collided into him, he didn't seem to stumble at all, he stood firmly while you were knocked backwards. You stumbled a bit but you managed to stay on your feet too. You rubbed your head and looked up at the man in front of you. He was tall, muscular, distinct pink hair.

You gritted your teeth, “Hey could you move, I need to get through--”

“You put up quite a show back there,” he commented.

You didn't have time to entertain him when there's guards hot on your tail, “Move before I make you regret it," you said and attempted to shove past him.

However, he continues to block you.

“Little one, when I am talking. You do not cut me off."

This sounded like a threat.

He continued, "I saw what you did with the rabbits earlier, are you a ten-shadow technique user?”

Whatever this man wanted, you didn't care. You just want him to let you leave before the guards gets here.

Feigning ignorance, you gave him an innocent smile and quickly answered “I don’t know what you are talking about. Now if you'll excuse me...”

You tried for the last time to move past him but this time, he grabs your wrist tightly.

"Do not lie to me," he ordered.

You were going to protest but he turned it into a direction it should not bend.

You yelped from the burning sensation, “Alright, alright I yield...Yes I am. I really don’t have the time to talk here.”

“Why did you run away then?”

“What do you mean why? They’re going to kill me.”

“You’re stronger than all of them. You can fight back.”

“No I can’t, there's fifty of them and....”

You realized it was too late, the guards caught up and have surrounded you two.

You snapped your head to look at the man again, “You bastard. I don't know what you want from me but you did this on purpose.”

He laughs. Angrily, you shake your arms again and managed to shake off his grip on your wrist and you instinctively pull your wrist close to you and rub the pain that he caused.

One of the guards stepped forward but still keeping his distance from you, “(Name) Zenin, under the jurisdiction of Jujutsu Regulations, you are under arrest for killing a sorcerer. We ask that you cooperate and peacefully give yourself in.”

You gritted your teeth then shouted at the guards, "Like hell I'll just give myself in. Let me go or I'll make you guys regret it."

“Oh, quite a trouble maker aren’t you,” the man beside you remarks.

"Shut up”, you spat back at him, “I’m not gonna protect you.”

He chuckles, “You don't need to worry about me, show me what you’ve got.”

Without a warning, all fifty-something of them ran to attack you. You closed your eyes and positioned your hands so it forms the shape of a snake.

"Orochi!", you summoned.

Immediately, a giant serpent springs upwards from the ground and the guards starts fighting your Shikigami. It was a close battle, it took a while and you even had to fight some of them with your bare hands but eventually, you and your Shikigami managed to effectively taking out most of the guards while the remaining few, have turned to run away in fear. You pant.

"I didn't want to do this," you mumbled and turned around ready to flee again. However you stopped cold when you heard a familiar voice.

“I see you’ve thrown away your humanity.”

You immediately snapped your head back, "Father?” you called out. The crowd of people at the market have formed a circle around you to watch the commotion. You spot your father step out of the crowd.

"That's right (Name), I am very disappointed with you."

"You have no right to say this to me after treating me like an animal, you only cared about my Jujutsu technique. You didn't care about me."

The pink haired man was still beside you watching the whole show. He seemed amused by the drama.

"I do care about you, you are an important asset to the family. Come back home (Name)," your father tells you.

“That’s right! I’m only an asset to the family.”

Your father's face darkened now, he hates it when you talk back to him.

“Last warning (Name). Come home now. This is an order.”

"Leave me alone or I am going to have to hurt you too!," you snapped back.

“You can’t. You’re still too weak.”

The moment he said this, you motioned for your Shikigami, Orochi, to attack your father. But before it even reaches him, he effortlessly mists it and Orochi disappears into thin air. Despair starts settling in, it's true that you don't really have a chance to defeat your father. He was a well reknown Jujutsu Sorcerer of the era. But you weren't ready to give up yet, there was one more technique that you could use but it was a gamble.

You placed your hands into position.

Fear immediately appears in your father's eyes when he realized what you were about to summon. Mahoraga: a Shikigami that no ten-shadow technique user has ever been able to exorcise. Summoning it meant death.

"With this treasure, I summon.."

"No (Name) are you insane? You'll kill both of us,"

A sadistic smile forms on your face. That's alright, if I’m going down, I’ll drag you down with me.

"Eight Handled Sword....", you trailed off when the pink haired stranger interrupted your summoning by gentling putting his hands on top of yours to signal you to stop. You looked at him confused. However, he wasn't looking at you, he sent a glare in the direction of your father.

“Show’s over. Let’s go,” the pink-haired man announces and grabs your hand and leads you to walk away in the other direction.

“Wait who are you and where are you taking her?”, you heard your father shout.

The man beside you casually lifts up one finger in a jerking motion as if he was slicing something and immediately, you hear screams or horror from the curious crowd that were watching you guys earlier.

You were about to turn your head around to look at what happened but he stops you.

“Don’t look back, there’s no going back now.”

"You killed him?" you gasped.

"Of course."

He said so casually as if he didn't just murder a sorcerer of one of the most famed Zenin family.

"Why—no, how," you asked in disbelief.

A sadistic smile appears on his face, “Does it matter? It's just one more of those annoying Jujutsu Sorcerer dead. They're all trash anyways..”

You didn't disagree. Since you were born with a prized cursed technique, Ten-Shadow Shikigami, you have felt that your family only cared for you because you were an asset to them. You've seen the world of Jujutsu Sorcerers with your own eyes. It was a corrupted world where the strong exploited the weak. It was a world you wanted to run away from. However, you didn't expect to run into this pink-haired stranger who suddenly stepped in to help you. There were a lot of questions on your mind but you felt dazed. Finally, you managed to ask him,

"Who are you and what do you want from me?"

He looks at you, his eyes filled with passion.

“Back there, you really proved yourself. You proved that you have talent, you have the passion, you have what it takes! I want you to wreck havoc with me. I am Sukuna and I will be the King of Curses while I want you to be my Queen of Curses. And together let’s turn the jujutsu world upside down!”

His hand was still holding yours to lead you somewhere. You didn't answer him right away but his invitation seemed to have ignited something within you because you could feel a rush of adrenaline. A rush of excitement. Perhaps this wasn't too bad. You've never felt what true love is. Your family never loved you. But this stranger — no, this man who calls himself Sukuna — holding your hands and promising you to destroy those Jujutsu Sorcerers that you've learned to hate. You didn't mind it.

It felt right. And it felt nicer than anything anyone has done for you. Because for once, someone understood you.

[lazarettta]

Misthios VII

Pairing (Mother Miranda x Spartan!Reader)

Rating (M)

Word Count (4.6k)

Warning (probably language right now)

You and Miranda are finally moving on to having that long chat that's separated you both for centuries.

The Queen's eyes fluttered open, finally waking with the morning rays of the sun peaking over the mountain. Her balcony doors were wide open to let the cool night breeze into her personal chambers while the two fireplaces burned well into the night. It was a combination of warm and cool that her majesty enjoyed greatly as it helped her with sleep.

Of course, sharing her bed with you also aided with her troubles with sleep for the past few months since your arrival to the region. Wonderful in all the ways she could never have imagined; a warrior and a lover, the two things that made her life easier—and the lives of her enemies that much worse.

It had been well past dinner time when you returned to the castle along with the squadron of soldiers you'd gone with including a Captain of the military who was leading the raid. Part of your armor had been slashed and torn, stained with blood and whatever else you encountered outside of the castle walls.

But when Miranda stood in the doorway of her private bath watching as you stripped of your amour—she witnessed no open wounds for her to tend to or fret over, but blood stained your skin anyway. Even though she knew that she should have the moment she noticed: Miranda never questioned why you'd always have a new scar every other day or why your shirts had the evidence of a stab wound taking place right above your hip, including a blood stain, but all you could do was smile when asked about it.

“ Is everything alright, your majesty?”

Miranda blinked, her mind coming back to reality now finding herself sitting up in her bed currently being blinded by the morning sun. The Queen sighed heavily, looking down at your sleeping form—as always you were on your back with one arm tucked beneath one of the pillows behind your head and the other was being used as Miranda's pillow for most of the night. As always.

Like herself, you were bare as the day you were born...your entire torso shamelessly revealed for her roaming insatiable eyes...and she smirked when a particularly cool breeze swept through the room. She watched the goosebumps rise under your exposed skin, including your nipples making Miranda hum softly.

“ Y-your majesty?”

Miranda, suddenly remembering just what, or rather who, had bothered her before and looked towards the girl, pleased when she saw that her eyes were on the floor.

“ Everything is more than alright, girl, however you may leave... I'll be out shortly.”

A hand curling around her waist brought Miranda's gaze from the closing double doors where the meek girl disappeared through and back to you. Your eyes were still closed but you were starting to wake up, stretching like a feline and again Miranda's eyes were drawn to your chest.

“ Carved by the Gods,” she mumbled, the tips of her nails tracing your firm abdomen with no particular pattern, simply enjoying the light marks she was leaving behind around your belly button, knowing how much you enjoyed when she did that as well.

You saw the thoughtful look on Miranda's face when you opened your eyes but you couldn't stop the giant yawn from escaping, “Morning,”

Miranda smiled down at you, enjoying the way the sun made your skin glow but you weren't fooled by that smile—you were used to Miranda's smiles and this was one of her worries. The sort of smile where she wanted to reassure you while scolding you at the same time. You pulled away slightly, and sat up a bit so you could give her your full attention. When the monarch remained silent, simply staring at you, all you could do was raise an eyebrow...waiting.

Miranda scoffed at the action, shaking her head, “It's ironic isn't it, how we the others tales...but we do not truly know each other, do we?”

You shrugged, smirking at her—refusing to hint at the nerves beginning to crawl up your spine, “Pretty sure we know each other inside and out, your highness.”

Miranda gave you a look, clearly unimpressed, “Yes, beneath that charm and nonchalance...is something quite fascinating, isn't there? And...it seems that your truth only comes to light during battle.”

“ Pardon?” you sat up a little more now, eyebrows furrowed—unsure where Miranda was going with this but you no doubt that it probably wasn't going to be good for you. Especially since you're naked and vulnerable but not defenseless.

“ Captain Ake came to me last night after I left you to your bath, he seemed quite concerned with something...and quite frankly, I'm curious myself.” Miranda's hand had stopped tracing patterns on your stomach, but her hand still lingered...and the moment her index finger traced over the raised skin right next to your belly button, the brand new one, you knew you fucked up.

“ About what?” You mumbled not daring to look down at her hand, and her eyes burned into yours—playing dumb would only get you so far—probably the dungeons if you were lucky. You knew exactly what Ake was concerned with though you weren't sure if he actually saw you take a sword through your gut as it was so dark and everything happened within a blink or two.

“ What I am going to say next may sound crazy, however, Captain Ake is one of my most loyal subject in this castle, and quite sane...he claims to have witnessed you being impaled,” Miranda exhaled slowly, “By the enemy...and somehow managed to walk away from it, unharmed. Would you mind telling me what happened, my dear?”

You stared at her for a second, “And...you believed him? Could I have really been stabbed by a sword and do what I did last night? Do you know how insane you sound?”

“ Watch your tongue! You're still addressing your Queen, warrior.”

“ I'm sorry, but you seriously don't believe that shit do you?”

“ I've been noticing a few things myself, (Y/n)...and I would really like some answers myself.”

“ Right. I'll take that as my signal to leave, your majesty. Thanks for letting me sleep here last night.”

Miranda's eyes narrowed slightly, reaching out to grab your wrist to prevent you from running from her, “(Y/n), do not run from me...I'm only trying to understand! You can trust me, this I promise you, I'm not going to hurt you.”

You wanted to believe her, but you had to learn the hard way that trust was nothing but a word—a word that can be broken over and over. You were too stupid to learn in the past but you weren't about to do the same thing now. Pushing the covers aside you threw some mundane excuse over your shoulder but before you could actually get to the edge of the bed, you were pulled back and pushed back into your previous position. It didn't actually hurt but it wasn't gentle either but you were pretty sure that it was Miranda that moved you, but you hadn't actually felt or seen her move a muscle.

“ W...how? Miranda?!”

Miranda smiled shyly at your bewildered expression—a very rare expression from the Queen but like yourself, she was feeling quite vulnerable, “You're not alone, (Y/n)...and neither am I.”

“ Neither....are you?” Miranda chuckled at your expression and your inability to put two and two together. When you tried to sit back up, Miranda's shy smile morphed into something more amused and predatory because you realized that you couldn't move—and Miranda still hadn't moved an inch.

“ Ah, now do I have your full attention?”

The closer you got to Miranda's home the more treacherous the path became and you'd lost sight of the woman flying low above the trees ten minutes ago—or what you thought to be ten minutes, you weren't sure. Your eyes were glued to the ground, keeping a firm but relaxed grip on the reign of your stallion, Bruce, whispering gently to him. Alcina called him a gentle giant and she wasn't exaggerating. The path was narrow and very unkempt but you wouldn't expect Miranda to make things easy, especially access to her private home.

There was a point that you weren't even sure you and Bruce were actually going to make it across but there was no way you could've turned the massive horse around either, forward was the only way and you weren't ashamed to admit that your heart was pounding hard enough to crack bones. The moment you cleared the trees, Miranda's home finally came into view—and you were not disappointed. It was a simple two story cabin practically etched into the mountain and you wanted to know how the hell she managed to get this place on the sliver of rock.

You'd brought Bruce to a stop just as Miranda appeared and landed gracefully on her porch even with her heels on (you caught a glimpse of them earlier when she started flying). From her porch alone, Miranda had a perfect view of everything . The village, the manor sitting on the waterfall, the factory and of course the castle. There was a light blanket of fog obscuring most of the view, but it was still breathtaking all the same.

You dismounted Bruce easily, gently guiding him to the post next to Miranda's porch. You fed him a few sugar cubes, gingerly untangling part of his dark mane and pulling free a few twigs and leaves.

“Further up the path I have there's a stable for him, we can take him later.”

You turned to look at Miranda, finding her standing in the door looking at you, her expression unreadable and you were too tired to try and decipher it. You double checked the post before steeling your nerves and joining her on her porch, it was roomier than it actually looked and you spotted a hammock on the other corner—not the usual netted sort, it looked like a quilt and quite comfortable too.

You followed Miranda inside, shutting out the cold—the interior of Miranda's home had you stock still at the front door with your hand still on the door knob. The space was open, having the living room and the eating area open with no barrier, and you could easily see the kitchen from where you stood. It was...cozy and warm.

“Surprised?” Miranda's voice brought your eyes to where she was, now half way up the stairs behind the kitchen wall, she wore a soft smile, the front of her robes already opened (you didn't even realize the fucking thing even had a zipper), revealing the slacks and blouse she wore underneath, “Did you expect me to live in a cave?”

“I expected you to at least have a TV.”

Miranda smirked but it didn't reach her eyes, “Are you going to stand there bitching about the lack of media corruption or do you want that shower?”

Your hand finally relaxed off of the door knob, the light throbbing resulting in just how hard you were holding the poor thing. You kicked off your boots at the door—they were covered in mud, snow and probably horse shit at some point, they were filthy. And the last thing you wanted to do was dirty up Miranda's wood floors.

She waited until you were on the stairs to continue up herself while slipping her robe from her shoulders and casually throwing it over her arm as if it were just a towel. “There are only three rooms on this floor. My own, the guest room and the bathroom.”

You raised an eyebrow, “One bathroom?”

“I don't exactly keep guests, dear.”

“So then why the extra bedroom?” you were being a shit, you knew it, but you couldn't help it—Miranda made it easy for you to tease her sometimes (all the time). You wanted to be more bothered over how easy it was for you to fall back into old habits with this woman.

“The longer you stand there being an idiot, the colder your water gets.”

You raised your hands slightly, moving past her towards the door she pointed to, flipping on the light—it was roomier than you expected it to be, dark and a bit modern but Miranda somehow still managed to keep it grand and medieval. The floor was made of stone, there was a grand shower with a curved glass door and next to it was a bear claw of a tub, melded into the floor like it was a hot spring. Across the floor was a single sink and a mirror, and next to it a door where you assumed you'd find the towels and toiletries. Just past the tub, was the toilet though there was a half wall there to offer some privacy and you spotted your backpack sitting on top of it neatly and that finally gave you pause.

“Figured you didn't want to walk around naked or wearing any of my clothes.”

You hadn't even noticed that you had actually walked into the bathroom, admiring it's simple yet beautiful décor or that Miranda followed you in until the shower sprung to life next to you.

She smiled at you apologetically, not having meant to startle you—but seeing you so easily bothered helped put her at ease. Miranda was good at hiding it, but she was quite nervous. Having you so near and so far from her at the same time in the comfort of her own home, her sanctuary—none of the other Lord's knew where she lived, they probably thought she lived in a cave or a nest or something. You were Miranda's first house guest since she arrived in this village.

She closed the shower door, watching you open your backpack—checking through it, and she couldn't stop the small smile from forming after you smirked, realizing that you were still without your weapons. But you didn't make a comment on it, instead beginning to pull out the things that you needed—until you realized that she was still in the room as well.

You raised an eyebrow at Miranda, and her smile only grew but the blonde simply shrugged her wings and tucked her wings tighter to her back as she exited the room, “I'll be downstairs when you're finished...”

“Miranda—”

She paused and you froze, fuck, why did you do that? You hadn't meant to call out to her, but your mouth was faster than your brain sometimes and now she was looking at you expectantly and all you could do was stare at her like a jackass. There was so much, too much, that you wanted to say but where could you even start? Why were you getting this courage in the fucking bathroom of all places?

“Downstairs.” She reminded you gently when the silence stretched too long—you had panicked and she saw that, and instead of jumping on you like the predator you knew that she was fully capable of being—she left you alone to your thoughts and the hot water steaming the room, calling your name. It was a welcome distraction even if it wouldn't be a forever one.

“Being immortal really is overrated.”

Miranda didn't go downstairs immediately, instead making a beeline for her bedroom and closed the door behind her but left it ajar enough for her to still hear you in the bathroom. Miranda carefully hung up her 'Mother Miranda' robe and began stripping out of the clothes she's been wearing for the past two days along with her rings; finally taking off the crown of Mother and just becoming Miranda with every stitch of clothing she removed from her flawless skin.

Standing naked in front of her full-length mirror, Miranda whispered a delicate but very familiar spell she's known since she was a small child and she winced quietly as her wings folded back into her body for the next six or seven hours. The spell wasn't forever but Miranda often used it when she was home to avoid breaking her things as she often did if she let her wings remain as they were, they often got restless if she stayed home and still too long so she just opted for putting them away to save herself the trouble. And money.

When the last two smaller ones on her lower back finally retreated into her skin, Miranda rolled her shoulders to pop out the kinks. She got dressed in a pair of washed out pants and a v-neck shirt, and at the last minute Miranda threw on her dark wool cardigan before heading back downstairs but not before pausing outside of the bathroom door. She heard you humming over the shower and though she didn't recognize the song, it still made her smile.

Suddenly feeling like a creeper, Miranda moved away from the door and went downstairs to start on the coffee she was craving earlier. She got her fireplace going but that all took less than ten minutes and now she found herself back in her kitchen, pulling ingredients from her refrigerator to give her something to do besides fret.

“ You shouldn't be so comfortable with your champion, in public.” Fritjof complained for the thousandth time in her ear—he was one of her primary advisors, having been employed by her late husband, the former King. He was always a bit of an annoyance, but he often proved himself useful and unwittingly saved his own life time to time from Miranda's ire.

“ I was only congratulating her on another victorious raid on a neighboring kingdom that thought it wise to steal from us, or have you forgotten that little fact, Fritjof?”

He frowned, not liking her tone but he quickly corrected his features knowing that they were still in the halls on their way to the Queen's study, but there were still eyes on them, “I...yes, but it sends the wrong message when you send a blood wolf to handle this kingdoms affairs instead of your loyal officers! You make us all look weak!”

Miranda stopped walking, and whirled around on Fritjof, her coat wrapping around her leather clad legs as she did so, and the frail man jumped back a step, knowing that he overstepped a line severely, “A-apologies—”

“ You will apologize with your tongue!” Miranda hissed, “Though I'm sure (Y/n) would rather have your head for all the times you've questioned her loyalty to this kingdom! We're coming up on eight years, Fritjof, and (Y/n) has helped this kingdom prosper more than you ever could've in your twenty years with my late husband.” Miranda sneered dangerously, edging closer to him and the terrified man could only back up into the table, knocking over a vase but Miranda paid it no mind, “One more word about this and I will have you removed. Permanently.”

Fritjof swallowed harshly, beads of sweat forming at his hairline and rolling down his face, and Miranda's sneer deepened in disgust, “Please, your highness, I'm only looking out for the future of the kingdom! It—it needs an heir and a King! The other kingdoms will never recognize your power without either—” his words were cut off when Miranda struck him down, a single line of blood staining a portrait on the wall behind him. Miranda struck faster than he could react and Fritjof cried out in pain, alerting the guards who came running but stopped when they saw their Sovereign standing over the slimy advisor holding part of his face, blood starting to seep through his fingers.

“ For every brilliant woman, there's always a stupid man thing to be found.” Miranda stepped over his pathetic body and continued on her way, rolling her shoulders back when her back began to twinge in response to her high and irritated emotions, and she needed release. “Get him out of my sight and find my champion; send her to me when you do.”

“ Yes, my Queen.” They both replied, one of them roughly hauling Fritjof to his feet and pushing him forward, but not before the man could cast one last glance at Miranda's retreating back until he was shoved forward. “Move!”

The cabin was filled with the aroma of sweet bread and coffee and your stomach was growling something vicious halfway down the stairs after you put your back in the guest room. Miranda had her back to you and you took the moment to stop at the bottom of the stairs to just observe her. The very first thing you noticed was that her wings were gone and she was more relaxed—it probably had a lot to do with her being in her own home, and it was starting to make more sense why she wanted to be in the comfort of her own home for this conversation. Though her argument for privacy was valid as well.

Your eyes flickered around the open space, spotting something tucked in the corner of the living room and scoffed without meaning to and alerting Miranda of your presence, if she wasn't already. She turned from her task of fixing you both something to eat to watch you walk across the room to where the object of your interest lay with a carefully crafted expression.

“Didn't take you for owning a rifle.”

“It's ten years old, I believe.” Miranda hummed quietly, dusting off her hands before taking down a couple of plates from the cabinet above the stove. You looked at her when she didn't elaborate, really curious now.

“It's in pretty good condition, really beautiful...where did you get it?” you checked the clip and saw that there were exactly ten rounds in there. When Miranda didn't answer you immediately, you found her watching you.

“It's not mine.” Miranda set the plates at the small eating table that could easily seat two other people, “I took it from a witch hunter as he was so kind to come all this way to visit. He tried to kill me in my sleep like a coward. He intrudes upon my home and couldn't be bothered to give me an honorable death. The audacity of men certainly hasn't changed over the years.”

Her tone was not lost on you and you knew that the witch hunter was long dead. You traced the steel design grip, impressed at the detail—and distracted.

“Oh, so now you hate men?” Ah... and once again your mouth was faster than your brain could process, and just like that her eyes were on your back—you felt it.

“I've always hated men, (Y/n). I...” she sighed harshly, her eyes turning into a glare, “Stop doing that, you don't have the entire story so if you're done being an ass and running from this conversation—I would really like to clear the air between us so we can move on from this.”

“You mean your truth that you want me to hear so badly?” You chuckled though it lacked any amusement. You set the rifle down, finally giving her your full attention then sighed heavily—a sudden exhaustion falling over you, “Would it really matter at this point, Miranda? It happened centuries ago...we both moved on, why do you want to drudge this back up?”

“Why don't you?” Miranda moved around the table, the coffee and snack forgotten in the moment, but she didn't try to approach you, “I'm not the only one who was in the wrong, (Y/n).”

“Do you think I cared about your status when I found out the woman I loved married a man behind my back and didn't even fucking tell me! I had to find out in the middle of that stupid ball you wanted to throw so bad after we invaded those rebellion villages. I gave you everything and you betrayed me . I crossed lines for you, Miranda. I thought that would warrant enough decency to be honest with me. I-”

You stopped, your face was hot and you exhaled heavily—doing your best not to sniffle, you hated that you were the type to fucking cry when your emotions bubbled to the surface too fast. Especially when the topic is something you've buried long deep in the dark corners of your mind with no hope for daylight again. You just never thought you'd bump into your past like this. And it's been years since you've had to deal with anything on a personal level after your last child passed away fifty years ago at the tender age of eighty-six.

Miranda saw the emotions playing across your face with a frown but otherwise her own emotions were carefully hidden, she was always better at that than you were, and inched closer, “(Y/n)...”

“We've both obviously lived with this hurt and came out fine,” you cut her off, not looking at her but instead at your bare toes with your hands back in your pockets, “What's closure gonna do besides bring up old hurt?”

“No, that's not it at all, I just...” Miranda coughed lightly and cleared her throat,—your question was valid as she's asked herself this many times before, asking herself why she didn't just let you go in the forest—she could've let you go and saved you both from this reopened wound. But she didn't because she couldn't and Miranda wouldn't apologize for it. Because she's always been a selfish woman, and one of her most selfish needs—even when she first laid eyes on you—she knew that you were hers. That never changed, time could never take that away from her.

“This life is long and lonely, (Y/n)...and I've made many mistakes, most I will never have a chance to atone for...and when I saw you,” Miranda looked into your eyes and bit her bottom lip, you weren't even looking at her anymore, “I've lost so much in this life, and I refused to lose you a second time. The first time I was...I was corrupted with greed and power, but I was stupid and it cost me everything too, (Y/n).”

You looked up, surprised by her words, “He took your kingdom from you, didn't he?”

“ You!” Miranda moved closer, though you hardly noticed because you were focused on her eyes that were duller than they were down in the village but just as clear, bright and brimming with tears, “He took you from me. He took us away from each other, (Y/n). I'm not innocent in it either, I...I could've done something about it, but I didn't and it was the biggest mistake I could've made in my entire existence. And I think about it more than I care to admit, I think about you...wondering what sort of life we could've shared together had I made better choices. I'm...I'm sorry, (Y/n).”

Miranda was close enough to touch you now, and this time she didn't hesitate nor did you pull away when both of her hands cupped your cheeks, making you shiver. “Miranda...”

Miranda's hands tightened on your face, obviously thinking you were about to argue again but you were tired of arguing with her, over this...before she could speak, you took Miranda by surprise and pulled her into a tight embrace, both of your arms around her waist and you caught her when her entire body sagged in your arms. You had no idea what was going to happen after this, but that little piece of you that longed for the closure you never got...began to grow.

“I'll stay.”

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hi! There are probably no answers for this that aren't simple or obvious like,exercise more! or volunteer but still. Sorry in advance for the long whiny ask.

INFP and autistic (so,like,INFP squared? or is being typed infp a common co-morbidity to autism lol bc I have seen this combination A LOT. anyway not a great mix,would not recommend 0/10) person here. I'm currently not able to work or study. I can't fix that. My country is pretty awful and there is not much hope. I can't fix that either. The internet used to be a window into a different,better,kind of reality,and it's where I could find people who felt and thought the same as me. That was pretty good,actually.

As of summer 2020,that has started changing. It's a bit funny how everyone dumping their issues and loneliness online has made the whole landscape uninhabitable instead of bringing comfort,but,well. Anyway,I keep trying to make accounts to just talk about my interests or to simply feel that I belong somewhere and that I am understood. But then I abandon them because none of my opinions and core values fit in any specific internet persona mold now. There are tribes everywhere and I hate all of them. I can't lie,I don't have the energy to defend so many supposedly contradictory sides of me that aren't even relevant to anyone,and I hate being judged unfairly and being attributed intentions I don't have. Instead of finding my niche,I discover that out of 10 online people I might have connected with,I strongly disagree with all 10 of them on issues I won't budge. I just hate everyone now. And I lost the additional bit of hope I had lol.

I had so many ideas and plans about the content I wanted to make,online. Instead,now when I try to imagine the types of people who have liked or might like my stuff,and the ones who disliked me,they all look the same in my head. I just feel like closing shop and running away. I've lost the desire to share any part of me with others. So the inspiration is gone too and can't even work on anything. There is no imaginary audience I can trust or can confide in.

Irl expressing myself was rarely possible. I don't know what's the most common type here,but most people in my environment were very judgemental idealists acting like 'rational' self-sufficient cynics for some reason(unhealthy FJs I guess?). They hate 'cringe' display of emotions and 'unprofessionalism' in women(men get away with everything)more than they hate actual criminals. I was not able to connect and share ideas even with the people I had a lot of values in common with and who did the type of activism I was interested in. Not gonna lie,that was a huge blow. They were so close but so far,and I could not bridge the distance.

Also there are no good mental health services,mostly because of poverty and corruption. The fucked-up "pull yourself by your bootstraps and stop whining" and "look at you,entitled snowflake wanting special treatment,just endure it like the rest of us!" culture surely doesn't help. This isn't just conservative old men saying this but people from my generation. I wanted an escape from that.

But I just don't know where I can go from here. IRL was bad but I had such hope for existing online,at least. Until a couple months ago,I was still able to imagine people I might be able to resonate with,some day. I actually encountered them a couple of times,and it was everything I needed. But now,inside my head,everyone is disappointing and unreasonable and hateful and not worth it. I can't live like that but I can't live without people either...

Making something I'm proud of and showing it to someone who is not my mom lol is a basic need I can't fulfill now and it's driving me mad. And the problem with autism is that I literally can't do anything if there is not an image of how it might go in my head already. I don't know how to explain,even if my future best friend would be sitting next to me,if I did not have a slot in my head already prepared for that,I would be unable to recognize them. I'm so sorry this got so long.

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

I understand your disappointment and dejection. Feeling out of place isn't a nice feeling for anyone. You can't control other people. You can only improve yourself and your social skills. I see some problems that might impede your ability to socialize well:

1) Hungry for Validation: Do you only engage with people to get validation? Do you only create to get applause? Whether or not you succeed in doing something begins with the intention you set. Start off with the wrong intention and the results will be unexpected. If your intention is really just about using people as objects to feel good about yourself, is it really a surprise when they refuse to be used by you? Would you like to be used and disposed of when you are deemed useless? That's no way to treat people, is it?

2) Hypocrisy: You are pleading for like-minded friends out of one side of your mouth and then bashing "tribe" mentality out of the other side of your mouth. Methinks you are not so dissimilar from the people you condemn, since you are merely seeking your own tribe, just like everyone else?

Having contradictory beliefs means that there's something wrong with your belief system. Being unwilling to examine your own faulty beliefs means that you will never truly understand yourself, let alone others. How, then, are you meant to make real friendships? It seems that your social skills won't improve unless you take a good look at all the ways in which you sabotage relationships all on your own, aside from what other people do. This blog is for self-reflection, not for ranting.

3) Pessimism: Your perspective is too negative. If you are only able to view the world through the lens of your past disappointments, you will not see any hope, because you will only be looking for the "evidence" that confirms and affirms your disappointment. This is how pessimism, helplessness, powerlessness, and resignation get entrenched in the mind.

All people have a mixture of positive and negative qualities. All places have a mixture of pleasant and unpleasant people. When you are pessimistic, it means you only see the negative in everything. Pessimism is one common way that people destroy their own hope and motivation. It is a common sign of Si loop.

4) Judgmental: You decry people being judgmental while being quite judgmental yourself. Your opinions about everyone, including yourself, are quite negative, full of ego and righteousness, and too black-and-white. This will certainly prevent you from making friends. How can you get people to like you when you don't even like yourself? How can you like people when all you ever see is how they don't measure up to your lofty expectations?

What you don't understand is that beliefs =/= identity. People adopt a lot of their beliefs and values without much thought, because it happens unconsciously when they are children. If they are not given the encouragement and opportunity to examine and change their faulty beliefs, why would they? Much of the time, people hold the wrong beliefs out of ignorance rather than malice, yet you treat them as malicious, hate them, and dismiss them as not worth your time. If you don't want people to misjudge you, criticize your "contradictory" beliefs, or judge you for the worst version of you, are you willing to be the first to start choosing a different way?

When you are too judgmental of people, you operate under the assumption that they are irredeemable. Warning: Damn the world, and you will damn yourself too, because you are a part of the world, no matter how much you try to deny it. Empathy is required to see yourself and others as human, redeemable, and worthy of encouragement. You are sorely lacking in empathy and that's something that can be improved upon, if you cared enough to do so. Lack of empathy is a common sign of Te grip.

5) Poor Social Skills: Since you are negative and judgmental, have you considered how that affects the way you interact with people? Nobody deserves to be bullied or trolled. However, there are ways in which you might inadvertently invite people to bully or troll you. For example, if you're unwilling to examine your own faulty beliefs, you unconsciously attract people to criticize them, because deep down, you know that they need correcting. If you're going to dish out moral judgment all the time, then you invite others to give it to you in return. Perhaps you need to think more about how you present yourself to people and what effect it has on how they approach you.

I've written before about how social media isn't a great place to socialize and make friends. In many corners, it is indeed toxic because of the lack of accountability. Social media invites people to be their worst self in order to boost website engagement, and it sounds like you are a victim of that as well. Healthy relationships require responsibility and accountability from both parties. Are you responsible in your dealings with people? Are you accountable for any negative behavior of yours that is harmful to relationships? You say that you were with like-minded people and still couldn't succeed. That should make you suspect that the problem lies with your lack of social skills.

ASD is a legitimate concern. But beware of using it as an excuse. I've known plenty of people on the spectrum who are high functioning, willing and able to learn better social skills. If you are serious about building a better social support network, you'll have to put more effort into improving your social skills. This doesn't guarantee that every relationship will be successful. Having good social skills means that you know how to take full advantage of every opportunity for improving your relations with people. See the relevant tags and book recs on the topic.

[alliluyevas]

There is a lot going on in this series of asks so I'm going to take it bit by bit but thanks so much for sharing your perspective.

First of all, thanks for the well-wishes about my job and I wish you the best with your university education! It can definitely be a rough road but I hope you are able to fight through your despair and find a comfortable place in the world for your studies <3

Back to Tywin. For your first point about the real Tywins of the world, I absolutely concur, there are so, so many people who have huge amounts of power because they're rich and vicious and in real life they won't all get their comeuppance for sure. And I definitely think the fact that ultimately it's the poor and innocent and vulnerable who lose out almost every time is definitely a theme in ASOIAF (a theme that I personally feel would be better served if it wasn't for all of our POV characters and most of the prominent non-POV characters with the exception of my beloved Davos being highborn themselves but that's neither here nor there). And I definitely think there's something really cathartic about the way Tywin ultimately dies in light of that, because he 100 percent reaps what he sows and in real life not everyone does. (Paired, of course, with the tragedy that other characters in his family who are a lot more sympathetic are also going to reap what Tywin sowed)

But this is a fictional story and it's all part of a Narrative and everything has a Point. So now onto these people from reddit! (I haven't looked at ASOIAF reddit but this is making me not want to, lol, I've had enough bad discourse off the Sopranos reddit). I think the people you're describing on reddit are really misreading the series/Tywin's character, honestly. Yes, his death is a massive plot twist and came as a total shock to me when I first read it, but looking back and evaluating both the circumstances and the general themes of the narrative it makes complete and total sense and fits perfectly with the story GRRM is trying to tell. (I also don't get the perspective of being disappointed Tywin died, lol). Because the whole point of Tywin is that Tywin's godlike status is a lie, it's a sham, it's completely full of shit. I don't necessarily feel like speculating on whether Tywin could have talked himself out of this situation if he'd actually believed Tyrion might kill him: personally, I feel like the fact he doesn't believe Tyrion will actually kill him is indicative of how he's undervalued and willfully misunderstood and mistreated Tyrion his whole life and he's basically dug his own grave years earlier and is just blindly continuing to dig it now.

I think C from reddit is also overstating Tywin being a "cunning tactician and skilled politician", it's not that Tyrion killed Tywin because no one else could, because Tywin is FUCKED on multiple levels even aside from this encounter. If he hadn't died, shit would have blown up in his face big time, because the reason House Lannister is collapsing in on itself rn isn't just because Tywin isn't there or because Kevan/Jaime/Cersei aren't as effective/capable as Tywin, it's because a lot of Tywin's tactical and political plans are short-sighted and ultimately self-destructive. Look at the Red Wedding: Tywin who is firmly unaware that he's in a fantasy story couldn't have necessarily forseen that it would lead to the level of supernatural upheaval that it has, but he COULD have seen that it would permanently alienate the North, further tear apart the Riverlands, and lead to massive discontent against his regime from both the nobility and the common populace in multiple regions. Look at what he did to Elia and her kids, which has consequences that have been building in the background for the last 15 years but are about to blow up in a big way with Doran + JonCon + Aegon.

Closer to home, he has raised three kids who are absolutely psychologically shattered and totally unable to perform the roles he wanted for them despite all that nepotism, two of whom pretty much started a war via the dysfunctional incestuous relationship he's been ignoring their whole lives, and his shitty parenting basically kicked off a cycle of generational trauma that not only has woefully fucked up his kids but also his grandkids. Tywin's not a god, he's not brilliant, he's a deeply flawed person who's in denial about virtually every aspect of his life and legacy and has gotten this far mostly due to unearned privilege and being very, very cruel.

Thanks for sending me this, it was very thought-provoking (as well as emotionally compelling!) and also gave me an excuse for another rant about this topic! I hope you have a lovely day.

[justleaf]

Summary

Roche and Iorveth go on a date with Geralt as their chaperone (not the hat).

Content Background

This one is especially painful to yeet because it was already completed, together with 50% of the next chapter that was the smutty bits. It was finished right about the time I posted Chapter 5 and would have fit in as Chapter 11, but it just didn't make sense with all the additional plot points I'd shoved in.

I've redacted the parts that could potentially get my tumblr banned btw please donut laugh when you see it.

Original Fic

It Took Years

Length

2,300 words

_____________

“Geralt, remember when I released you from prison and saved you from the Nilfgaardians a year ago?”

The white wolf raised his eyebrows in surprise. Roche had never called in a favour for him, and he could tell that Geralt knew it was going to be quite significant. He had thought about it too many times and despite the embarrassment and possibly never being able to look the witcher in the eye, he simply had no other choice.

“Look, I just need you to help Iorveth and I create an alibi.”

“... Uh-huh?”

“We have a meeting with Dijkstra in Novigrad in a week's time, and I plan to…” he swallowed hard when the words became momentarily stuck in his throat. It took another second for him to gather his courage to speak, and the slight tremble in his voice was immediately noticeable.

“I plan to spend the night with Iorveth in one of the inns the night before. But we need someone to cover us.”

The white wolf seemed to grow even paler and his lips pressed together in contemplation.

“You know that I have enhanced senses.”

“I know, but I need to make sure that no one catches us. Not the Scoia'tael, Blue Stripes, Dijkstra’s spies, Redanian spies, any Nilfgaardian-”

“Alright, alright, I get it. You just need to make sure that everyone thinks that I invited you two for a drink and make sure that no one is listening in.”

“I know I’m asking a lot of you, but you’re the only one I can trust in this situation. I haven’t… Iorveth and I don’t have any other opportunities. I can’t even hold his hand without worrying that someone is watching.”

Geralt stared blankly at him and Roche’s heart began to pump harder. His worry must have shown on his face, for the witcher immediately sighed and shook his head.

“Come to the Chameleon. I’ll get you guys a suite. With a wall to separate the living area and the bedroom.”

Roche looked up at him and down a few times, wondering first if Geralt had misspoke, and then if he had misheard. When the witcher said nothing and shrugged, Roche finally accepted it with a nod.

“Thanks, Geralt. Drinks are on me,” he muttered and hung his head a little. Embarrassment was beginning to burn his cheeks.

“Don’t mention it. I’ll see you soon.”

<center>_________________________</center>

“Why are we here so early when Geralt only wanted to see us after sundown,” Iorveth whispered as they passed the guards that almost ripped their papers in half. Roche had smooth-talked his way in and Iorveth was impressed, even though he didn't let it show.

They had set aside their armour and entered the city dressed as merchants: Roche in a nondescript outfit that let him blend in with the rest of the nobles, and Iorveth draped in a cloak that obscured his elven features.

The sun was nowhere near setting when they arrived in the city. Roche had intended to take him on a date around the city, but didn’t want to admit it.

“I didn’t want to disappoint Geralt by being late.”

“Gwynbleidd would have understood.”

“Well, since we’re already here, we might as well explore the city. I heard of a tavern along the docks with an elven cook. Would you like to go there?”

The mention of food changed Iorveth’s expression immediately and Roche suppressed his laughter.

They dined at the Golden Sturgeon, where Iorveth immediately received preferential treatment from a redhead with freckles (it's Bea btw). She made sure to seat them in a relatively hidden corner and Roche could see the elf progressively relax as his shoulders began to sag. He even spotted the hints of a smile dancing on his lips when she put some strange fish dish in front of him.

Just when Roche thought that Iorveth was incapable of enjoying himself even more, he became increasingly pliant when they sat down at the Chameleon for a pint while a band played in the background. Roche didn't understand the first thing about music, but his two mugs of ale were enough to get him to keep his reservations.

Besides, he had something really cute to look at.

The elf's cloak was finally down and he could see the tips of his pointed ears twitch with every beat of the drum. He thought about how nice it would have been to pin him down to the bed and toy with his ears. His eyes trailed across the elf’s neck. If they didn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, he would have left bite marks across that smooth skin.

<em>Mine,</em> he thought, and he wanted the world to know once all this was over.

“You play the recorder don’t you,” Roche asked out of the blue. Their eyes met and Iorveth was slightly startled by the intensity of his gaze, but he didn’t back down.

“Yeah. There’s been too much going on recently and I haven’t had the chance to though.”

“You can practice with mine tonight.”

“Vernon,” Iorveth warned with a glare, and then quickly glanced around the room to see if anyone was within earshot. There wasn’t, but the tension in his body didn’t leave.

“I could polish yours all night too, you know.”

The elf flinched and could see the pink develop along the tops of Iorveth’s high cheekbones and the tips of his ear. Past his flustered expression however, there was a particular heat blossoming in his eyes. Roche didn’t let up, his curiosity driving him to see just how much he could take it.

“My carrying case is a bit small, but I’m sure yours will fit in with a bit of a shove."

This time, Iorveth couldn't resist the urge to push back. Dandelion's tavern was filled with his regulars who were deep in their own conversations, and they were just talking about music, right?

"So you admit that my instrument is bigger."

"Well the quality of the instrument doesn't matter if the musician has no idea how to handle it."

"I think we've proven that I'm the better player though."

"Our last few encounters haven't exactly been skewed in my favour and I still managed."

"There is no fairness in music and in battle. You should know this, <em>Commander</em>."

The way Iorveth said the word made his mouth go dry.

Now <em>that</em> was truly unfair, and his [banana] agreed. He was seconds away from tugging Iorveth upstairs when the doors swung open and in stepped the white wolf.

"Geralt!" he called out and waved a hand.

"Nice to see you both. I hope you didn't wait long."

The witcher took a few steps towards them, sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. He had this resigned look about him and Roche immediately knew that he could smell their arousal.

"Let's drink in my room," Geralt suggested and grabbed four mugs of ale from a passing waitress. She protested at first, but nodded and flashed him a huge smile when she saw who he was.

They headed up the stairs and Roche had to try very hard not to openly stare at Iorveth's ass. It [eggplant] and he had no choice but to stare ruefully at the ground.

As soon as he saw that the second floor was empty, he reached out and pinched the elf's behind. Iorveth jumped at the touch and almost spilled his own mug of ale, and Roche was treated to one of those embarrassed glares. They quietly ascended another flight of stairs and neared the room, and Roche could feel his heart race and his breathing grow ragged.

Finally, after two weeks of planning and trying to fit all the pieces together, it was happening. It had been a year since Dol Blathanna and months since they started seeing each other, and Roche was raring to go.

Geralt opened the door to a suite on the top floor that was exactly as he described: a small living area with a table for four and a few sparse furnishings, though it was far more comfortable than the arrangements he was used to. Partitioned off by a wall and door was a bedroom mostly occupied by a sizable bed and more pillows than he could count. A decision made by the bard, no doubt.

As soon as the door closed behind them and they set down their mugs, Roche grabbed Iorveth’s collar and shoved him towards the bedroom. The elf looked mortified and nearly lost his footing, but he recovered within the span of a few steps. He grabbed Roche’s arms and plucked them off him, then tried to shove him backwards but Roche held his ground.

“What the fuck, Roche?!”

Roche took a step back and considered Iorveth’s anger. The elf's gaze had grown sharp and alert, but he was mostly just shocked at the audacity of his actions. He just flashed him a devious smile and was returned a twitch of confusion.

“What? Didn’t you always like roughhousing me on the forest floor?”

“Not in front of Gwyn-”

Roche barely gave Iorveth a chance to answer. He charged forward, wrapped an arm around the elf’s waist, and threw him straight into bed. Iorveth went flying into the mattress with a groan and Roche climbed straight into his lap. Heavy footsteps thudded behind them and stopped by the door.

“Oil’s on the nightstand. Don’t get the sheets dirty and take your shoes off before you get in bed dammit. I can’t afford to pay for new sheets too.”

“Gwynbleidd, what is the meaning of this.”

“Just a little gift from me to the both of you. Have fun, Iorveth. Just try not to make too much noise.”

The door behind them closed and Iorveth just stared blankly at Roche, who was already taking off his top. No words came out of the elf’s gaping mouth, so Roche blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Enjoying the date so far?”

“Explain yourself Roche, I’m not-”

The elf had to pause when Roche began grinding in his lap. It worked until it didn't, and Iorveth grabbed onto his hips to still them. Roche just wanted to get to the fucking already, but the elf refused to be distracted no matter how much he tried.

“Did you plan all this? Coming to my camp to pick me up. Picking flowers for me along the path. Bringing me to the tavern for dinner. Having drinks. This fake meeting with Gwynbleidd.”

“Of course. When else was I going to get the opportunity to take you out on a date?”

Something in Iorveth cracked visibly and Roche went dead still with nervousness. The other lowered his gaze and Roche cupped his face in his hands, desperate for his elf to be okay. He stroked his cheek gently and tilted his head up to try and get a better look at that unreadable expression. This was the opposite of what he hoped would happen and worry began to pool in his stomach.

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong. Talk to me,” he urged and placed a peck on the scarred cheek. There was no answer, so he continued fluttering kisses along his jawline. He felt like his world might come crashing down at any moment and resisted the urge to salvage the situation before he knew what was going on.

It felt like Iorveth was cycling through a thousand and one emotions. He cupped the elf's face in his hands and pulled back, where he was greeted by a vulnerability he had never seen before. The other had this dazed and awed look in his eyes, and if Roche wasn't so flustered by the sudden change of pace, he might he caught his surrender.

“Vernon…”

“I’m here. What is it? You can tell me.”

“It’s just...overwhelming.”

“In a good way or bad way?”

“Good way.”

Roche released the breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. It was nice that the reaction was somewhat positive, but Roche’s poor heart couldn’t take the anticipation. Surprising Iorveth was turning out to be quite bad for his health.

“Well. Have you enjoyed yourself?”

“Mmn.”

“It's okay. We'll take it at your pace.”

“I just... need some time to process this. I’ve never been treated like this before. It's overwhelming.”

“Well you deserve it. Take the time you need, it’s okay,” Roche encouraged again and placed another peck on his nose as he undid the bandanna that obscured half his face.

This really wasn’t how he thought the evening would go, but he had to admit that it was nice. At the core of it, all he really wanted was to be able to kiss and hold Iorveth intimately without fear of someone catching them. Now they were in bed and there was someone trustworthy to watch their backs, he supposed he had achieved his goal. Maybe they could just hold off the fucking for a while more.

“Do you want to take a nap with me,” Roche offered after they'd sat in silence for a while.

“Yeah… I would like that very much.”

Iorveth tried to take off his cloak, but Roche shushed him and pushed his hands aside. The elf had a blank look on his face and hurt momentarily flashed across his eye.

"Let me," Roche rushed to salvage as he pulled loose the strings on his cloak.

“I can undress myself you know.”

“I know you can, but just let me pamper you a bit more.”

The tips of Iorveth's ears were bright red and Roche suppressed the urge to tease him about it. Slowly, he helped the elf strip down to his underwear and slipped him beneath the sheets. Then he took off his own garments and joined him, snuggling up to that warm and slender body that seemed to fit so perfectly with his.

Yeah, he could wait.