#silence doesnt mean no and it doesnt mean yes either | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rafesbabygirlx · 1 month ago

Text

ONLINE LOVE | 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗

𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚍!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙰𝚄

✧ 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 | 𝙰𝚄 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 | 𝚃𝙰𝙶𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

✧ Summary- Rafe Cameron used to avoid love, only having flings and never getting close to anyone. Now 27 and raising his 3-year-old daughter Harper alone, he wants something more, a real connection. Tired of being judged on the island, he tries Hinge and sets his location to the mainland. After days of no matches, he finds your profile and is instantly drawn to you.

✧ Prompt- for hingematch!rafe could you do one where hes been busy with his daughter and doesnt realise hes left her on delivered and she thinks hes ghosted her?

✧ Prompted here

It had been a month. A month of back and forth texting, FaceTime calls, and learning more about each other. Rafe surprisingly opened up about a lot to you, other than the fact that he had his daughter. He still didn’t know how to bring this up. Now worried it would ruin everything.

You had off today so you and Rafe had spent all night on the phone. You had fallen asleep first so when you woke up you wanted to make it a point to text him.

9:29am: Hi, how pathetic am I fallen asleep on you like that?

9:30am: My first year residency is kicking my ass, I’m shocked that I even stayed up as late as I did.

9:31am: I’m free all day today, finally have a day off, so don’t be shy in texting me! 🥰

9:44am: I’m sure you’re at work and busy. Like I said I’m free all day. I just can’t wait to hear your voice again.

You hadn’t mean to sound desperate. This past month you and Rafe had been on top getting back to each other the second with of you had texted. You had both shared your schedules, you knew when he’d be in meetings and he knew when you’d be working at your internship. The second either was over, one of you was immediately sending a text. Unless there was an emergency meeting he got pulled in to, this was a bit of a strange break in the pattern.

You busied yourself as best as you could. You made yourself a nice breakfast, something you barely get to do anymore. Then, you caught up on some of your tv shows and when they were done you began a new book. You took a full pamper shower, cleaned up your nails, did your hair routine, your skincare, and applied some makeup.

It had been 4 hours and when you finally picked back up your phone it was still radio silence from Rafe. You let out a sigh of defeat. Mind racing that something that seemed so precious could already be over. He hadn’t even read the texts. You don’t mean to jump to conclusions, but no matter how well this seemed to be going, he was only just an online dating match who ended up living 5 hours away from you.

On the other side of North Carolina, Rafe was a mess. Harper had claimed she had a stomach ache and refused to go to school, meanwhile he caught the toddler in the pantry sneaking cookies and gummies 3 times this morning. He told her the only thing she was allowed to do was lay in bed and get rest if she was that sick. This lead to full blown tantrums and Rafe wanting to pull out the short hair of his buzzcut.

Between Harper fighting him all morning and having to rearrange his business schedule, this glued Rafe to his office desk. His personal phone was forgotten on his nightstand and he didn’t get a chance to think about it. He left the office door open, which gave him a perfect view of Harper’s and the hundreds of times he caught her sneaking out of it.

“Harper get back here!”

“No daddy, I want more snacks.”

“You said your tummy hurt, were you lying to me?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to daddy, Harper.”

“Yes.”

Harper bowed her head in defeat. A cute way of defeat only a 3 year old could get away with. This caused Rafe to kneel in front of his daughter, lifting her chin delicately with his fingers.

“Why’d you lie Harper?”

“I don’t like school, I wanted to be with you. You mwake me safe.”

“Why would you need me to keep you safe baby?”

“Cause kids are mean and I don’t like ‘em.”

“Oh baby, I’m sorry. How about this, we spend the rest of the day doing anything you want? Snacks, movies, tea party. How’s that sound?”

Harper’s face lit up and she threw herself into her dad’s arms, wrapping hers around his neck and hugging him tightly.

“Yes daddy! Come!”

Rafe laughed as he allowed the toddler to drag him into the kitchen. She pulled out the tea set from the lower cabinet that was designated for all her stuff. Rafe put on some water to boil, then she went to pantry to pull out snacks she wanted for tea time.

They brought up everything to her room. Harper knew exactly how to set everything up. A setting for her, a setting for Rafe, and two other settings for her stuffed elephant and American Girl doll Sarah had gotten her.

They spent the entire day doing what Harper wanted. Rafe let his assistant know he would be unreachable as he just wanted to focus on his daughter. This was the first she brought up having problems at preschool. How the hell were 3 year olds already having issues. He got her to open up about it and it was 2 boys that would take her crayons and break them when she’d color or steal her gummies at lunch time.

Rafe took offense to that personally because he was always proud of himself for making her lunches every morning. But he quickly shook off the feeling of being pissed off at a 3 year old. Heloved being a dad and making Harper happy. He didn’t want to be sad or afraid to go to school. So to just do this little thing for her to see her smile, he was more than ok to do it.

When the time came around for Harper’s bedtime, he brushed through her now dried hair from the bath and tucked her into bed.

“You’re gonna have to go to school tomorrow Princess. I know it’s scary, but you’re a tough girl, I’ll come in with you tomorrow and talk with your teachers. We’ll figure this out together. Ok?”

Harper gave a soft sigh and looked like she wanted to plead with her dad to not go in another day. “Ok. Ima tough girl.”

“That’s right. I love you little one.”

“I love you daddy.”

Rafe had given her one final kiss before making his way to his bedroom and plopping down onto his sheets. He had forgotten about his phone all day and had decided to pick it up. There were notifications from Sarah, Topper, Kelce and all the way at the bottom there were four missed messages from you.

He ran his hand over his face. He never missed a text from you. He always had Do Not Disturb on and you’ve been the only one this past month that could still get through to him. He was stuck on what to say. His entire day was spent making sure his daughter had been happy. His daughter, you had no idea about. What could he even say?

It was now 8:30 at night. You had just cleaned up the kitchen from cooking dinner earlier. Mind finally at ease from the doubt and wary feeling about being ignored. You knew you shouldn’t have gotten attached, no matter how good it felt. He probably found someone closer to him and forgot all about you. Online dating has never turned out great for you. This was just another disappointing failure.

You sat on the couch, trying to push aside your thoughts as you engulfed yourself in your favorite movie. Your phone is next to you laying face down. It was almost 9 and even with a relaxing day of doing what you loved you were already feeling tired again. You rested your head in the palm of your hand as you our eyes began to close, a ping from your phone shot them right back open.

Embarrassingly, you reached for it quicker than you’d like to admit. You look at the notification and see it’s Rafe. You hold back a smile, not ready for what it says.

8:55pm: Hi. I’m really sorry about today. From the second I woke up chaos was erupting at the office. I had to get up and ready and rush out the door. I completely forget my personal phone at home and just got back. I missed you today. 🩵

You let out a breath that you didn’t even realize you were holding and smile warmly at the message. You were scared of rejection and know he feels this way you reply instantly not caring how it makes you look anymore.

8:57PM: No need to apologize Mr. CEO. Some things are unpredictable, it’s easy to get caught up, I’m still here for you.

Rafe took a sigh of relief at your response. He didn’t want to ruin this. But the gnawing guilt of lying to you about Harper made him terrified of what was yet to come. You said you loved kids. But would you love him when you found out he had a daughter?

For now the only thing to do was to continue to talk to you. Learn more about you. Hopefully you would understand why he was doing what he was doing. It was to protect Harper. You’d understand, right?

Tags + some moots: @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @megiiite @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @snowtargaryen @kieeslove @leather-n-velvet @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @diasnohibng @slurpdew @alphabetically-deranged @whydoesthemirrorhateme @currentresidentinhell @slut-4-rafey @akobx @rafesheaven @laniirackssss @jjmaybankmylovee @slut4you @larema121 @tul1preads @wuluhwuhmaster @inthelibrarybtw @littlelamy @bellaballerina111 @pogueprincesa @daddyrafeslittleslut @nemesyaaa @papercranesandinkstains @frankoceanluvr11 @drewsephrry @zyafics @rafeysvenicebitch @rowdydevs @maybankslover @rafesgreasycurtainbangs

I think I have everyone tagged <3

633 notes · View notes

kxsagi · 1 month ago

Note

hello its may 1 for u now🤫 how would the blue lock characs fare with a reader thats disabled... specifically in the legs.. and bcs of this she doesnt like going outside n only stays in bed n stuff…. with the itoshi brothers, isagi n anyone else u want… thank u😋

“𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩”

a/n: ofc!!! these boys are the best bfs ever

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, kaiser michael, bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, karasu tabito, hiori yo

isagi yoichi

isagi doesn’t push you to go outside, he’s gentle about it.

he brings the outside to you. open windows, a little potted plant he’s sure you’ll name something dumb like “greenie,” and flowers he saw on his way home.

“sunlight’s good for serotonin, love. so i brought both.”

he’s constantly updating you on everything you’re missing like he’s live-commentating a nature documentary.

he’ll climb into bed with you, legs hanging off the side, pulling up match replays on his phone and resting it on your chest like a movie night.

you once said, “i feel like a burden,” and his eyes narrowed so hard you thought you’d get vaporized.

“if i ever hear you say that again, i’m calling you every slur known to mankind.”

itoshi rin

he gets very quietly worried.

doesn’t always know how to express it, but he’s always thinking about you.

orders groceries, learns to cook simple meals, keeps your favorite drink stocked.

not overly affectionate at first, but he always checks: “do you want company today?”

if yes, he’ll sit beside your bed and read or scroll through his phone.

if no, he still leaves a snack on your nightstand.

if you open up about your insecurity, his voice gets really serious: “you’re allowed to not be okay. just don’t shut me out.”

holds your hand when you cry and refuses to let go until you’ve fallen asleep.

itoshi sae

very… blunt.

not in a mean way, just practical. he doesn’t sugarcoat things but he never makes you feel lesser.

“you’re not broken. you’re still you.”

if you’re upset, he doesn’t try to fix it with hollow reassurances. he’ll sit with you in the silence and let you feel.

sometimes he just crawls into bed next to you and knocks out, head on your stomach, no questions asked.

“don’t feel like moving? good. i didn’t want to either.”

will absolutely carry you if you ever say you do want to go outside.

“shut up. you’re light. plus i like the excuse to hold you this close.”

nagi seishiro

king of being horizontal.

genuinely doesn't see an issue with your preference to stay in bed, he’d stay there too if people stopped bothering him.

plays games beside you or leans back so you can watch comfortably.

casually adapts to your needs without making a fuss about it.

if he sees you struggling, he doesn’t say “do you need help?” he just does it.

“you’re still stronger than reo in a 1v1.”

when you’re feeling down, he’ll dramatically throw himself across you like a human weighted blanket and groan, “ugh, life’s so hard… you’re the only reason i’m surviving.”

he means it, kind of.

mikage reo

rich boy privileges: he immediately researches accessibility products and home modifications.

hires people to help, but only if you're comfortable with it.

if you say no to something, he listens.

he’s the type to book a private movie screening just so you can enjoy something new without dealing with crowds or logistics.

but he’s also just as happy doing nothing with you.

“whatever makes you happy, makes me happy.”

always checking in, but never overwhelming. he lets you set the pace and is endlessly patient.

may or may not try to build a robotic exosuit “just for fun.”

kaiser michael

oh he pretends to be annoyed: “ugh, you never wanna go out and show off how hot you are? tragic.”

but behind that ego is someone who makes your bed the most comfortable place on earth.

he’ll bring in fairy lights, plushies, top-tier bedding, and a projector so your room feels like a cozy palace.

“who needs the outside world when you’ve got me, anyway?”

if anyone dares pity you or talk down on you, he will go feral.

super soft when you’re feeling down. strokes your hair and mumbles dumb things like: “i’d trade my legs if it meant you could dance again. but you’d probably hate that, ‘cause i have hot legs.”

always gassing you up. always making you laugh. always calling you “queen of the bed.”

bachira meguru

tries to make everything fun, even when you're sad.

brings art supplies, glow-in-the-dark stars, board games. anything to make your space lively.

sometimes he lies next to you and pretends you’re on a spaceship bed traveling through the galaxy.

“captain! we’ve reached the jellybean nebula!”

your laughs are his mission.

if you’re having a bad day, he builds you a blanket fort and lets you vent inside the “safe zone.”

“i love you. not your legs. not your ability to walk. just you.”

lowkey the best emotional support human ever.

chigiri hyoma

out of everyone, he gets it the most.

the moment he finds out about your leg disability, he doesn’t look at you with pity. just a quiet sort of empathy in his eyes.

“i know what it’s like… i had an ACL injury before.”

doesn’t say “i understand” lightly, but he truly means it.

he’s the kind of person who’ll sit beside you on bad days and just be present. no pressure to talk. just there.

and if you do talk, he listens like your words are gold.

loves brushing your hair while you rant or holding your hand under the blankets.

sometimes he gets a little choked up, like he’s projecting his past onto your struggles, but he catches himself.

“sorry. it’s just… you remind me a little of how i used to be.”

he encourages you slowly, softly. not to walk. not to change. but to believe that you’re still strong, even when you don’t feel like it.

brings you hot tea and flowers and puts on calming music when you’re overwhelmed.

if you ever want to go outside, he’s already scouting the area for accessibility ahead of time.

“you’re not a burden. not to me. never to me.”

he kisses your forehead like he’s trying to protect every part of you – body, heart, and soul.

karasu tabito

chill and sarcastic, but very observant.

he notices when your mood shifts and knows how to break tension with a well-timed joke.

if you’re lying in bed moping, he’ll pop in like: “oh no. the bed’s taken her hostage. quick, i’ll negotiate her release with chocolate.”

still checks in under the jokes. “but seriously. want anything?”

will carry you fireman-style just to be annoying.

also threatens to push you around in a shopping cart if you refuse a wheelchair.

“you don’t have to move. i got you.”

and he does got you. more than you realize.

hiori yo

he doesn’t say it outright, but the man is down bad for you being bedridden.

like, way too chill about it. suspiciously into it.

finds your quiet, withdrawn nature so alluring. your stillness, your softness, the pain in your eyes, you are his type to a terrifying degree.

the first time he sees you curled up in bed, blanket over your legs, eyes tired? he’s cooked. doomed. obliterated.

“you don’t go outside much?” he asks, voice a little too soft, like he’s already mentally moving in. “... good. i’ll stay in with you.”

he doesn’t just want to take care of you. he wants to worship you. he brings snacks, books, heating pads, and affection like it’s an offering.

genuinely blushes when you look fragile. fragile is hot to him. like sorry not sorry.

if anyone calls you weak? he’s unbothered. in fact, he agrees. “yeah. she’s weak. that’s why she needs me.” and he means it.

strokes your leg absentmindedly like it’s his favorite thing in the world, even if you can’t feel it. “it’s okay if you can’t run. you’re mine. stay still.”

gets a little dark when someone tries to force you out of bed or pressure you to be “normal.” he smiles, but there’s no warmth in it. “she’s perfect the way she is. back off.”

your disability doesn’t scare him. it fascinates him. and not in a weird science way, in a “i could devote my entire life to this girl and be happy” way.

to hiori, you’re not “broken.” you’re beautiful because you’re fractured. and he wants every piece.

313 notes · View notes

diwtara · 6 months ago

Text

Sanjis love life can be summed up as a series of one night stands.

Thats never the way he wanted it to be though

He dreams of love, of a real connection, of building a home.

But it seems everytime he finds someone, all they want to do is fall into bed with him, then ghost.

He would almost convince himself that hes just bad at sex, but sometimes one of his ex's will text him, make it clear theyre not looking for anything serious just another 'fun night'.

So hes not a bad lover, just unlovable

He hates himself for everytime he agrees to meet back up with one of them. Eventually, when being seen as no more than a warm body begins to wear him down, when it begins to hurt to much to continue on, he will block that persons number, vow not to fall back into such a self destructive pattern.

Until he does.

Over and over.

When he meets Luffy and his friends, well, its not the type of love Sanji has always been searching for, but with them theres a connection and its real.

And from Luffy, Sanji meets Zoro. Their friendship may be unusual, but its there. Its there with their shared looks of exasperation at Luffys antics, its there through their bickering, its there in their shared silences.

Until Zoro goes and asks him out.

Sanji is pre-emptively hurt by this. He thought they got along -in their own unique way- but now he knows Zoros just going to be another person to take a tumble in his sheets, then forget about Sanji entirely. Maybe take all their other friends with him when he leaves.

Still, Sanji says yes. As painful as it will end, as it always ends, Sanji knows he wont ever get what he longs for if he doesnt grasp at any chance hes shown.

They go on a few dates. Zoro is not the most romantic person by any standard. But they have fun, they talk, they get lost, they get to know each other.

Its the fourth or fifth date when after walking Sanji home Zoro says goodnight, makes a face, darts in to smush their lips together, says 'goodnight' again and takes off at a brisk pace. It leaves Sanji standing stunned for a good minute. When he wraps his head around their first kiss he cant help but laugh fondly over how adorable and awkward Zoro can apparently be.

Its a few more dates after that when Sanji starts to get antsy. Zoro has never pushed for more, theyve only shared a few chaste kisses, but Sanji knows. He knows either he sleeps with Zoro and he loses him. Or he doesnt sleep with him, Zoro gets bored and Sanji loses him.

So after their next date Sanji brings him home. Bring Zoro to his room.

Its intense.

Zoro watches him, studies what Sanji likes. Makes himself vulnerable too.

Sanji has never had sex like it before, cant imagine having an experience like it with anyone else.

And in the morning Zoros still there. Snoring away beside him.

Sanji knows that that doesnt have to mean anything.

He cooks breakfast and Zoro wanders into the kitchen half asleep. But Sanji knows, once Zoro has some food, once hes a little more awake, the man will leave.

But he doesnt.

They spend half the day together, Sanji spending it in a confused daze.

They go out on more dates.

Zoro holds his hand in public.

Presses a kiss to Sanjis temple and only waves off their friends teasing when he does.

Its the morning after the third time they spend a night together when Sanji finally breaks down.

The early morning light is soft through his curtains. Zoro is snoring spread out beside him, and Sanji, sitting up, starring at him, bursts into tears.

Zoro wakes up confused, tries to ask whats wrong, but Sanji is sobbing too hard to explain. Not that Sanji would even know what to say.

So Zoro wraps his arms around him, pulls Sanji in close. Rubs soothing circles on his back and tells him "I've got you. I've got you."

And thats when it hits him.

Thats when Sanji knows; Zoros planning on staying

#zosan #one piece #sanji #roronoa zoro #zoro #sanjis self esteem issues #zoro is smitten #zoro doesnt date unless hes already serious about the person #hes already assuming theyre going to be together until theyre old and grey #sanji of course doesnt know any of that #long post #sorry

241 notes · View notes

threepandas · 7 months ago

Text

Counting Down: 1 [Next ->]

The worst part about knowing the end? Is the beginning and middle. The waiting to change. The hoping it can. Days, spent with the low fear, ever churning, that it will all make no difference. Your actions. Your plans. The hopes you have placed in Fate's fickle hands.

Entering the Creche at an awkward age, too soon to be Legend, too late to be Peer. I was destined to be an adult by the time Anikin arrived. Getting up there, by the time the Order fell. Not yet old enough to be an Elder... yet destined to never live long enough to see such an age.

Obviously, I refused.

Looked around, locked eyes on the closest most manageable Character Of Relevance and took a chance. After all, was it not? The Jedi WAY? To inconvenience the Sith at every turn? So... first Crecheling, then Initiate, then baby Padawan Me, tracked the poor man down. Hunted him for SPORT.

Meditate with me, Knight Dooku! Can you teach me about this or that, Knight Dooku? What is the correct use of seashell tongs in formal dining, when attending a formal feast with the aristocracy, during this specific religious holiday, Knight Dooku? (No, no, on the moon not the planet.)

Congratulations on you Mastery! Master Dooku!

Pushing and shoving my way into his life. Persistent, much to everyone's amusement, and his baffled chagrin. It was like befriending a fussy, regal looking, semi-feral cat. Force knows, for all his training, he's terrible at casual interactions. He was older them me, yes. And Mentor of sorts, certainly. For a time. But? We became... friendly? I like to think? I certainly chased him down enough.

He's a dramatic and awkward man, Yan, and he'd be lost without us; Sifo, Nu, and I. Occasionally Yoda, but that does come and go. Not to metion... well... his Padawans. (Damn it, Yan. They can't read the subtext from your pointed silences! Use your WORDS.) The sort of man who is... sturdy, but brittle. Like an old, unbending tree.

Which makes it all the worse, when the pressure becomes too much. Because it does not merely crack. No. No, such men? They shatter in terrible and unpredictable ways. Unbreakable right up until they are not. Unending right up until the crash.

It is...? Both tragic and hilarious, in a that way, that Yan should live surrounded by so many prophets. Yet he does not, can not, and never will see the end coming. Surrounded by legends, both old and new. Born with every marker for greatness. Yet he...? He will be considered little more then a footnote, in someone else's history. At best.

And the worst part of his Fall? The absolutely worst part? Is the Light I still feel, each time I look at him, the GOOD I know is there. Resolute and noble, dignified and full of grace. A diplomat. Expert swordsman. Makes magnificent tea. The driest wit imaginable. He... he is YAN. Not Count Dooku. Not some Sith Apprentice. Just... just Yan.

My friend.

I meditate on it a lot. The Force gives no clear answers. Still, I do try, sitting in the gardens. Tucked away several stories up, past the considerate veil of several sweeping branches. I never did succeed in figuring out which planet the tree hails from, I suspect it might be either a long dead one or some small moon. It's a truely lovely, sturdy, thing nonetheless.

Far below, younglings shriek and play growl. Running carefree, to work off energy before evening meditation. Each a tiny blaze of starlight dancing at the edge of my vision.

A bit bright, I note, but nothing concerning.

The Halls of Healing will have to increase my prescription again. My glasses are no longer blocking enough... I sigh. Considering that. My sight? Is at least partially genetic. While I may be predominantly human, just because someone looks human passing, doesnt mean they genetically are one. My ancestors were, to put it mildly, a bit... Mandalorian.

Where their was a will, there was apparently, a way; And now I pay the price for it. It's honestly a miracle they never "married", as it were, themselves into a genetic dead end. Some sort of metaphorical space mule scenario, as it were. Yet? Despite all that seeming success? Luck is not eternal. And should you keep gambling? Eventual you will roll poorly.

I was that poor hand. That unfortunate luck. Loved of course. Expected even. My parents both wanted and were delighted by me. But? I screamed. Could not bear to be near people. My inheritance? A truely unfortunate luck of the draw. When combine with Force Sensitivity? My eyes reacted to "Light" poorly. Very, VERY poorly.

They were blinding to me. A mere child with no shields to speak of, no Force training to push BACK with. Like being force to look direct at the sun, again and again. It HURT. Because I could See.

Where others saw merely flesh? I saw deeper. Not infalliblly, not perfectly, I was hardly some omniscient god, but... oh. Oh. The world was so Bright. So LUMINOUS. The Force swirling and burning and flowing. In everything, from humble to grand. People shine, and yes, it is beautiful. But it also? Hurts. Because it IS, ultimately, being forced to stare directly at bright, ever shifting, sometimes flickering LIGHT.

I have a lifelong disability. Can not FUNCTION without my filtering shade glasses.

Or, if you are one of the ignorant assholes, who even NOW still seek to use me? I have what you might call? A"gift~☆".

According to Healer Che, it was some highly recessive trait. (From a planet I honest didn't even know I had heritage on, much less could find on a navigation system.) A subterranean people, due to the truely ungodly surface conditions. VERY sensitive to energy signatures and light. Which...? When you slap on a whole NEW super special Force sensing ability? Filtered through the same brain? Wires unfortunately crossed.

It could have happened it anyone. Unfortunately, it happened to me. Now I'm effectively blind around large collections of sentients. Or Life in general, depending on the intensity. To say NOTHING of Force Nexus! Dear merciful FUCK, that was the sort of accident only you make ONCE and then NEVER again. I was lucky to keep my vision. At all. Full stop.

Sifo was not so lucky. His Visions being neither natural nor kind. The Force seizing him again and again, to plunge him into vivid scenes of carnage. Death and horrors in the home he so loved. I would would be forced to, should I fail, see the Fall of the Order once. But Sifo? Oh... oh, dear Sifo...

Sifo, had seen it fall ten thousand times.

Even Yan did listen to him. Not truely. But there is camaraderie, in the horrors. In whispering, "it's not their fault", through choking tears. Forgiving the victims that will one day kill us. There is... a certain, heavy, sort of friendship... born of pressing your foreheads together, fingers intertwined, knuckles white with terror, as you shudder in the dark.

I think it helped, helps, that he has someone, who believes him. Anyone. Not just humoring him, the mad man sprouting prophecies of doom. But truely believes him. Knows he is right. And that if nothing is done? Everyone will die.

But... BUT! It CAN NOT, be Kamino, Sifo. Not that, never that.

In the dark, I remind him of prophets, seeking to avoid their visions, and instead? Ensuring the worst, comes to pass. Defense, Sifo. Escape. We are JEDI. Do not let fear blind you, to who you ARE. Do not let it take down a path of darkness.

I wrap him in the Light. Tuck my Force presence close, like I'm hiding him again my side, a youngling tucked into the safety of my robe. Shhhh, my friend. It is okay to be afraid. I am too. We can do this together. We are not alone. I believe you.

We are the pillars of his mental health, Yan and I. It concerns the healers greatly. The council. Honestly? It concerns me. But what can I do? No one else CAN help Sifo, until the first take the step of recognizing he is not, in fact, insane. He is a perfectly SANE man, reacting in entirely reasonable ways, to unspeakable Nexus born horrors. Slowly cracking under the isolation and grief. A jedi pushed and pushed, far past the point lesser men would have broken.

And if? He need a woman young enough to be his one of his student's, to rely on? So be it. I am a Knight now, I can handle it. (I have been handling it, since the incident. Since I was a Crecheling. Where the fuck were all of YOU? Ah, that's right. Calling him insane. Making things WORSE.)

I breathe out slow and controlled. My meditation is getting me no where. Rising, I carefully hop down, using the Force to slow my fall, much to the awe of various Crechelings. I can not help but smile. Was I ever that small? So easily impressed? I bow to my tiny fellow jedi. Delighted, they scramble to bow back. Thrilled to show off how grown up and serious they are, how well down they can do it.

Reaching out with my senses, I look for Yan, politely avoiding doing more then the briefest brush as I reach past others. I am not the first, nor will I be the last. There are hundreds of such searches a day. Some clumsy and heavy handed, from Crechelings or Initiates. Some soft as brushing strands of silk. Knights or Masters, looking for friends, looking for students where the should not be.

The Temple feels alive, noisy even, when you know how to feel it.

Ah, there he is! Heading from the High Council's cha-Grief. Horror. A gutting pain that numbs and spreads.

Caught off gaurd, I am sent reeling. Stumbling, without grace, over my own feet into a nearby wall. Glad for it, as I desperately grab at my chest and wheeze, drawing the alarmed attention of nearby Knights and Guards. Because... because, the other direction? Had I stumbled in the other direction, I would have hit the railing. Fully doubt I... I would have been able t-too.... oh Force-!

It takes entirely too long to seperate my emotions from Yan's. To realize what's happening. My panic feeding into the pain. My pain feeding into the panic. Yan. S-Something happened to Yan! I manage to gasp it out. P-please! S.. Someone! Go! Go check on Master Dooku!

The world spins as I try to force air into my body. It refuses to come. Whatever horrible pain Yan is in, leeching down our connection. Into me. Hurting. Made so, SO much worse, by my having been actively looking for him. I close my eyes, teeth gritting, and trying to stop digging my nails into skin. I-It won't help. There's nothing physically there.

But it hurts! God, does it HURT!

It feels like my WORLD has been shredded. My heart, crushed, cruel and slow in my chest. H-he's having a panic attack. Has to be! Or-! Or being attacked! I d-don't... don't KNOW!

A passing Master has hurried over, now kneels next to me. Various Knights pushing whatever calm and safety the can at me. No one is quite certain what will help. But they try. Desperately, stubbornly, resolute to the last... they TRY.

Breathe with me, begs the Master. Pressing my hand to his chest. Just copy my breathing. Help is coming. Release what pain you can, into the Force. We will help you. Let us help you.

I try.

Desperately, I Try.

The Healers end up having to give us sedatives, Yan and I. Sifo ends up... worse. The entire event triggering another, nasty, round of visions. He is incoherent. Trapped. Staring up at the Death Star from the surface of Alderaan, through countless eyes, begging to be heard. His soul, small and desperate, replaying the end, over and over. Even as he tries to protect what souls he can from the inevitable.

He cries for this too. They won't believe him, I know. Even as he thrashs and begs. For the lives of the innocent to be spared, for monsters to hold their fire. I will though. I will. I always do.

But Sifo will be lost for days. Yan, however? As he sits, on the bed, just the other side me? Sits stiff and properly. Blankly. As the healers words wash over him. I doubt a single on has registered. Of the three of us, I am the only one even remotely functioning. Yet... yet I still, don't know what has happened.

Nodding one last time to the healer assigned to me. Promising that yes, I will most certainly rest. I slip my my bed and sweep over to stand next to Yan's. The Healer's concerned and frustrated. He knows Yan's not listening. But has to try. I shoot him a strained, closed lipped, smile. Quietly take charge of my unresponsive friend.

The Healers relief is palpable. Our notes and instructions are not terribly dissimilar. Rest, food, no missions or upsets. Got it.

Gently, I guide Yan from the Healing Halls. Alarmed, that he let's himself be led. He never let's himself be led like this. Insists he is no invalid, to be coddled. Yet... here he is. Mind a thousand parsecs away.

Bringing him to his rooms, I key in his code then gently guide him to his favorite chair. Lightly guide him down into it. Not... not once, during the entire walk back, has he responded to anything. I am beginning to grow afraid.

Fussing, I drag up that terribly pretentious Serranian musician, on his music system. The one I can't stand. I am worried. Sacrifices must be made. Boring and insipid music fills the room. Very fancy! Come on, Yan. This is his new piece! Don't you want to comment on it? Come, tell me why it's so much better then the racket youngling blast these days. I'll call you an old man...

Nothing.

Worry growing, I begin making his favorite tea. Digging out his special occasion snacks. Something, anything, to get a reaction. As things brew, a sound too wounded to truly be a laugh, chokes it's way out of him.

"Xana-...My..." he starts. Stops. Normally sharp mind refusing to obey him, as he tries to summon words. He looks lost.

"My Grand-Padawan is dead." His voice is brittle, alien sounding in his mouth. I nearly drop the plate of snacks I was carrying over, in response. Horrified. "He was supposed be returning a knight. Qui-gon was.. was so proud of him. Adored him. This has destroyed him. Will destroy all of us. I... I have lost everything."

No. No, you have NOT.

Striding forward and all but dumping the plate on the side table next to him, I reach for my friend with both hands. With my Force presence. I refuse. No, damn it! I Will NOT lose him. Not like this, not TOO this!

Listen. LISTEN to me, Yan Dooku. So help me Stars, Gods both big and small, you will not succumb to this!

The greatest lie the Dark has ever told, is that it will make things better. That it can help you with your pain. Would Xanatos want his death to destroy you? Would the child of your child, want his legacy to be the ruin of everyone he loved? It is okay to grieve. You NEED to grieve. But remember you Padawans. Remember their Padawans.

Your Lineage still lives, Yan Dooku.

It is hurting, mourning, but ALIVE. Don't you dare run from it in your grief. You are better then that. I am here. Sifo and Nu are here. Yoda, is here. We will carry this pain together, okay?

Closing his eyes, he let his head rest more heavily against my hands. Dampness darkened his eyelashes, but no true tears formed or fell. He didn't seem to have it in him. Not yet. His hands though... his hands? Shook as they slowly, haltingly, like a droid with seizing joints, reached out for me.

I moved from leaning over him to sitting on the arm rest of his fancy Serranian high backed chair. That he didn't even grumble over me "abusing his furniture" by putting weight on the arm rest like this? Gods.

Leaning into him, I wrapped my arms around his head and shoulders. Like a shield against the universe. Used the Force to pull the tea, finally done, and pour it into a nice cup. Properly of course. See, Yan? I remember your lectures. Here, drink.

He... did not.

Just leaned, sagged against me, as he shuddered with grief. Hands wrapped around a cup of fragrant tea. Music filling the air. Tucked safe inside my Force presence, as best I could.

In... Out... In... Out... There was a slight stutter to it, a hitch, that in a less controlled man? Might have broken into a sob. But... instead, Yan meditated. That first cup going to waste. The second following, as it slowly went cold. Needs must, though, and tea? Can be replaced. Yan can not.

Emptying wasted cups, I poured more. Rested my head atop his own. Matched his breathing as I slipped into a light meditation with him. The room was quite enough. The position not terribly comfortable. But honestly? We'd both meditated under worse conditions, and it had been... A DAY.

To put it mildly.

I didn't like the look of Yan's Force Presence. It was like a fault line had been struck. Spreading terrible spiderwebbing cracks in otherwise sturdy stone. I was no mind healer... really, not a healer at all, I was a Seeker, but? I had learned a few tricks. After all, not every child I had found? Was found in a safe and loving home. Most weren't, honestly.

You learned to soothe, as a Seeker. Learn how to help. Children, after all, don't know Light from Dark. They just know that if they reach for the magic in their head? Bad things go away and good things tend to happen. Sometimes they hurt themselves by accident. Sometimes they hurt themselves... because the alternative was worse.

"You know, my dear? Some days I think you are the only Jedi with any compassion left. The boy never should have been sent there. Not for his trials. The lives of others are not a child's test. And to be asked to face one's own family? It... it was cruel."

Yan sent his cup around me, to rest on the side table, before gently tugging me down into his lap. He hugged me close, like a child squeezing a stuffed animal for comfort, face buried in the crook between my shoulder and neck. Like he was hiding from the world. I rest my head against his shoulder, eyes closed.

We were both... so tired, weren't we. This was nice.

"When did it all become about proving ones purity? One's superiority of morals? We are supposed to help people. Not lord over them. If I wished to do THAT, I would merely need to return to Serrano. Become a Count. You and Sifo are the only one who seem to understand me."

"I think I would go mad, without you."

Yes. I worry that you would, Yan. I worry that you would.

99 notes · View notes

bitterbutblue · 4 days ago

Text

let me get what i want this time

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

"tase can u write happy stuff" NO IM ALLERGIC TO ANYTHING HAPPY also this is so not canon because i havent played past 3.2 and i spent like an hour just researching what the fuck happened so im trying my best here guys </33

(YES I KNOW CERYDRA HAS JUST BEEN RELEASED SHUT UP WERE GONNA PRETEND SHE DOESNT EXIST

THIS STORY IS SO UNBELIEVABLY AWAY FROM CANON BECAUSE IT WAS WRITTEN BEFORE 3.3 SO BEAR WITH MEEEE)

sotd: Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want ~ The Smiths

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

The Preparation

Death is the end of one's story, as most tells you. It is the end of one's journey, the closing of a book. You like to believe otherwise. Death is the end of a chapter, and you will be reborn in a new one. It is a never ending story, endless chapters to bury yourself in. You always told Castorice this, the nights where you and her lay a few inches apart as you stare into the shrouded vastness of the night sky. The first night it all happened.

Countless times she has watched people's eyes dim as she lays a hand on them, the lightest touch causing the last flame to be blown out. It was sickening at first; she remembers the first time she killed a man and how she woke up in the night screaming and sobbing until her throat was raw and her voice had long faded. From then on, she had tried to run away from the truth that she was death itself. Yet each turn she made led her to another dead end, forcing her back to the starting point of a maze with no exit. She had long grown used to the solitude, people fear death. People fear the unknown and death is the unknown. So girls her age avoided her, excluding her in their games and whatnot. Boys her age feared her, never once wanting to approach her. Adults older than her still veered out of their way to avoid her because even the bravest of adults are scared of death.

The first time she met you was at your grandfather's passing. You watched, standing next to your mother, as a young girl approaches your grandfather, a shaky hand outreached. You watched as he smiles at her and how she hesitates. She took a step back, but the priest called out to her.

"Castorice, come on now."

Eerie silence filled the halls, a heavy blanket that laid itself on all your shoulders as the girl walks up to the old man's bed, turning her head to the side as she reached out to touch his hand. She missed his smile, the way he mouthed a soft 'thank you', and you watched the whole thing unfold. Your mother bursted into tears, dropping to the floor and Castorice runs.

That was the first time you saw her.

The next time you saw her, she was hiding behind a pillar behind the bustling icy city. You tilted your head to the side, walking up to her.

"Castorice?"

She looked up at you, her gaze confused but hiding a curiosity that she can't quite understand. You looked familiar, but she could not pinpoint where she's seen you before.

"Who are you?"

"We met a few days ago. I mean, we didn't properly meet. My grandfather's passing. You helped him along."

The mention of death had her feeling a pang in her chest she doesn't like. She clenched her jaw, looking down as she fidgeted with the loose ends on her robe.

"Oh."

"He thanked you." You said quietly "You missed it."

She looked away.

"Why are you here?"

Her voice wasn't angry, but there was still a bite to it. Like a frightened dog trying to act tougher to scare off the predators, except you were no predator.

"Wanted to see if you were okay."

It was such a blunt answer, too simple for her liking but she couldn't help but feel a pull towards you. The way you shifted your weight from foot to foot as you tried to stay warm in the harsh nights in Aidonia.

"Can we go indoors?"

She learned fast that you were naive, you believed in the best in people and you were optimistic. You were everything she wasn't, balancing her out in a manner she didn't quite grasp either. Some nights you would find her in the corner of the pavilion, striking up a short and quiet conversation that she never realised she was desperate for until you showed it to her. Some days, you would just sit and talk for hours just about your day and stuff, other days you would sneak her into your home and cook a meal for her. Gradually, you began to acknowledge her as your friend and to hear those words fall from your lips had her feeling warm for the first time as well. Friend. What a nice word. She repeated it to herself in the depths of the evening just to feel something but it never felt the same as when you said it. That brings you two here, lying in the snow as you stare up at the evening sky. You were the one to bring up the topic of death, a topic she always tried to avoid around you.

"You are cursed." You turned to look at her with an unreadable gaze "I won't deny that part of the truth, but there is a morbid beauty in it."

She lets out a soft laugh, not even knowing why she's laughing because nothing about this is funny.

"Let me finish-" You had fully roll onto your side now to look at Castorice, who still lied on her back as she stared at the clouded skies. "It's a journey, an endless journey where people will get off the boat at different stops and get on again to go elsewhere. You transport them between places, and give them the chance to experience the journey all over again. It's beautiful."

Your gaze on her softened when you say the last word, breath hitching as the two of you settle back into silence. You kept your eyes on her, and she can feel her face grow warm for the first time under the cold, harsh, winds just from the intensity of your gaze.

"Nothing is beautiful about dying." Is all she whispered out.

"But everything is beautiful about the rebirth." You said in response, tracing shapes in the snow next to your head "It's a new start, it's appreciating what you had and getting to relive it all again. It's beautiful."

Beautiful. That's the word that slowly grew to become Castorice's favourite as she turns to look at you properly for the first time since you both laid down. And she feels it.

"I suppose that is one way of looking at it."

She had said it in such a casual manner, so lightly, but you will never know the full impact your words that evening had on her. You will never know how she repeats it to herself in the depths of the evening after another funeral, and you will never know because the next day you died. She felt a tug in her chest in the middle of the day and immediately she knew something was off. That evening, she watched as the army men brought back everyone who had died in the crossfire of a war she knew not much about with a sickening feeling in her gut. With each cloth they pulled off the bodies, she felt the nausea grow worse as her heart beats at an unnaturally fast rate until they finally pull off the cloth. And there laid you, eyes staring off into the distance with red stained all over your body.

Dead bodies were not a new sight, she had seen people dying from the start and watched as they crumbled to their knees, turning into a stiff doll. But this was the first time in a long, long time she felt properly sick to her stomach seeing a dead body.

"No, no, no no, no please don't do this to me-" She choked out, running over to your corpse as the tears fall again. The tears she thought she had shed all of in her childhood are falling again as she touches your hand for the first time, the iciness of it being a harsh reminder of the reality of what is happening.

She's had thought of being able to touch you, to hold your hand, cup your face and feel the softness of your skin but never like this. In her thoughts and dreams, you always smiled back. Now, you stare ahead at the next journey that awaits you, and she presses a soft kiss to your stiff hand.

"Please, please come back."

2. The Welcoming

Different cultures have different beliefs about death and what happens after death. The people of Amphoreous often believe in rebirth, the cycle of life. Castorice never fully believed it, until she was forced to believe it. Until she had lost someone she treasured so dearly that she wanted nothing more than to see that pair of eyes on the street again, even if the person bearing those eyes were completely different. Even if the person had no recollection of her. The time it takes for a soul to move on is unknown, when she will find you again, she will never know. She lingered around your gravestone most nights, telling you quietly things about her day that you used to ask about. She asked you how you're doing, and was always greeted with silence.

"I hope the journey wasn't painful." She said quietly, leaning her head against the cold marble "You never had a good tolerance for pain."

She walked the streets, often scanning people's eyes to see if any of them could perhaps just bear the slightest resemblance to yours. She was fully aware that she sounded insane, and that she really just needed to move on but she couldn't. For some reason, your death stuck with her. Funeral 139. The funeral she wrote the longest entry for. The only person whose page was riddled with tear stains that made the words almost illegible at parts. Funeral 139, the funeral where she had to watch a mother grieve the loss of her child. The same mother who had just lost her father not too long ago now stands alone as she wept and screamed for the cursed skies to bring her back. Castorice could only watch from afar, unable to look up at the poor mother without feeling like she needed to throw up.

When she next saw you, your mother had already long passed too. She had begun her next journey, but you had already gotten a head start. She was making her journey out of Aidonia, stopping by a nearby village for some rest when she sees those eyes and she feels the same tug in her chest as when she first laid eyes on you that evening of your grandfather's passing. Rebirth, it was truly a foreign concept but she thinks it's real because nobody else has made her feel that way by an act as simple as eye contact. You held no recognition in your eyes, looking away as if she was just a stranger and to be fair- she was a stranger. You had never seen this woman in your life before but she's seen a version of you that you yourself never knew existed. An act as simple as walking down the streets, running a street stall, had her feeling like she had just seen the most magnificent act on this planet.

"Can I help you?"

You shot her a gentle smile, and she finally understood. There on your face was the same smile from years and years ago, the same smile under the cloudy snowy nights as you laid side by side. The same smile on a different face, the same soul inside that body waiting to be found again. She could only manage a smile back as she approached the stall you were working at. You hold out a loaf of bread, a worried look in your eyes.

"You look pale, ma'am. Have you eaten yet today? Would you like this loaf? We are closing soon, anyways."

Yeah, she had found you.

She found herself halting her journey to find Thanatos, spending time in this city that she didn't know the name of. Each day, she'd buy bread from your stall in the morning and you grew curious about the mysterious traveller.

"Morning." You smiled at her "Same as always?"

"Yes please."

As you moved to pick up the same loaf of bread, you couldn't help but shoot a curious glance. She looked at you in a way you couldn't fully decipher. It made you feel like she's someone you should've recognised, but you didn't.

"Hey, do I know you from somewhere?" You asked her bluntly as you wrapped the loaf in a piece of paper, tilting your head to side.

Her eyes widened slightly, before she let out a breathless laugh that masked something you hadn't yet understood.

"I don't believe we've met before." Castorice shook her head, but you saw the slight regret that still confuses you to no end. "I apologise, you may have mistaken me for someone else."

You let out a hum, knowing that you had never seen that woman in your life before. You hold out the loaf you had wrapped up, tilting your head to the side. She looked away, because it was getting all too familiar.

"I've never seen you before until recently. Did you move here?"

As she took the loaf of bread from you, she cleared her throat and you caught the small crack in her voice as she speaks.

"Not really, just stopping by."

"Where are you off to?"

Good question.

"We'll find out together, I suppose." She shot you a smile you don't quite get. You just furrowed your eyebrows at the confusing reply.

"You're an odd one." You said with a light chuckle "Will I see you tomorrow? Or will you go on your way?"

She really should have been going on her way, but she couldn't help herself. It's the same smile, it really is.

"I quite like it here. I may stay here for a bit longer."

She came to see you every morning. You learned her name, Castorice, and you quite enjoy the way it rolls off your tongue. You greeted her every morning with a smile, but you never talked much more. She held in her hands the history of you two, a history that you would never really grasp because you couldn't. It was the previous chapter that you had already left behind. To Castorice though, this was all one long never-ending story that she will have to flip through forever and ever. Watching as those she loves fades into dust, seeing them again as a new person with no recollection of what they once had. It was a pain that she never wished for anyone to feel, especially to have to see someone she cherished so dearly become only a stranger.

This time, you didn't die with a blade pierced through your chest. This time, you grew old. You passed your store down to the young girl who began to work under you maybe twenty years after Castorice arrived at your village.

"Whatever happened to your journey, Castorice?" You had poked fun of her one day. Castorice just laughed.

"My journey is not bound by time, nor am I."

You only laughed.

This time, you were happy. Castorice watched as you fell in love with this woman who ran the stall next to yours and if she hadn't experienced pain before she definitely did now. She recognised that look in your eyes and she wanted to punch herself for not recognising what that look meant back in your previous life. It was too familiar, the feeling of deja vu hitting her hard but it wasn't a smile for her. It was a smile for someone else.

Funeral 140, a funeral she would've liked to forget.

3. The Honouring

Though as she ventured on her journey to Okhema, she never would've thought that you were waiting for her. Each village she stopped by, she tried to catch a glimpse of you but was left disappointed. She found herself wondering, would she find the next version of you? Her question was answered when she finally arrived at her destination. In the baths where she met Aglaea, the familiar smile she had been searching for finally shows itself. You were standing next to red-haired girl who she would later learn is named Tribios, adorning a green robe. Chrysos Heir of Law, what a formal name. It seemed too formal, and if it weren't for those eyes she would've thought you were someone else entirely with the way you carried yourself. A scholar of Okhema, the judge who maintains order in the city. It seemed too big of a burden for someone who was previously a baker, and before that just someone's daughter. But now you stand at her level, having been chosen in this life and she couldn't help but feel hopeful- because this means you won't die now. This means she won't have to watch you slip through her fingers again, again and again. Her journey to Okhema, meeting various versions of you, each time attending your funeral has her prepared for the worst each time now. She never thought she would find a version of you that would actually be like her.

"It's nice to meet you, Castorice."

Even now when she thinks about it, it felt cruel. The way the universe made her watch one of the few people in her life who actually treated her like a human leave, only for them to come back as a complete stranger that only she can read from afar. You had held out your hand for her to shake, until it hit you and you pulled your hand back with a mildly embarrassed look on your face. Abashed, where you turn your head to the side to avoid looking at the person you just embarrassed yourself in front of and find the piece of tile on the ground next to you incredibly interesting. It is one of the traits you kept through your different lives and Castorice finds it evil how she can still read you like a book even after watching you encapsulate a different body every time. The same soul fills the shape, the same traits she cherishes will always leave and come back differently. She hates it, because why can't she just hold it close?

"It is nice to meet you too."

She isn't quite sure what took over her that night, where she found herself approaching you. You were sat with Algaea, head resting against your arm that was propped up as you took a sip from your glass. You didn't notice her immediately, Algaea having picked up on her presence before you did.

"Castorice, would you like to join us?"

She sat on the seat farthest from you two, but you had moved over to make space for her. You shot her a quick smile before going back to your conversation with Algaea, and all she could focus on is you. The words Chrysos Heirs, Black tide, Flame Chasers just bounced around her with no significant meaning. All she could focus on was you. You in all your glory, a shadow of the person she met centuries ago that she will see even in the darkest of the nights. You looked at her with a curious glance, a small smile gracing your lips.

"You alright?"

She nodded.

"Yes. Pardon me, you just looked really familiar."

You raised an eyebrow, setting your glass down.

"Have we met before?"

It's the same cycle, the same conversation every time. How this conversation unravelled used to change nothing, because at the end of the day you would still fade away and move on to the next stop. No matter how many times you came back, you could never stay.

"We haven't. You just remind me of someone I once knew." She said calmly.

4. The Final Farewell

Chrysos Heirs do not die. Chrysos Heirs were put in power for a reason, they are ageless. They maintain what is left of the remains of the Titans. Chrysos Heirs do not die.

She tells herself that over and over again, especially the night she found herself in another familiar setting with you siting next to her and her staring at you because there is no one like you.

"So you've met me before."

The two of you were sat in Garden of Life. Another evening where she can just focus on everything and nothing at once. All that sits there is you in all your glory, now finally at the same level as herself. She no longer fears having to lose you. If anything, the final farewell would be her bidding you goodnight.

"Yes."

You looked at her with an unreadable expression. She had been in Okhema for a while now, and though she hides herself from most due to her powers, she couldn't help but feel a tug from you. The first time you had actively tried to pull her in your direction since your first death. You stayed a foot or two away from her, but you were next to her.

"I can feel it." You said, smiling at her with those blank eyes of yours "There was an imbalance in me until you stepped in."

Those words stayed with her for a long time, and they're still stuck with her to this day. This day. The day that Mydei chooses to surrender himself to the Black Tide so he can fight back, buy them more time. Things took a turn for the worse. She knew it would be bad after the unexpected visitors from the sky, but the more turns they took the worse she felt. The same haunting feeling she hasn't felt since your last death almost a century ago is back, and she is terrified.

Things were good, things were what she wanted. You would smile at her and she would feel like the world was finally letting her get what she wanted. You were two feet away and that is the closest you've ever been, and she was not about to let you slip through her fingers once more.

But it does, it always does.

"You can't do that."

"There's no choice."

"It's suicide!"

"It's what I have to do!"

Because she was letting you slip away this time. With the most recent events unfolding, she would have to go with the Trailblazer to the Underworld and she knows what that means. She knew what would follow and you aren't dense. She couldn't look you in the eyes because she will finally see the same look on your face, the same look she sees every time she looks in the mirror. When discussing what someone is most afraid of facing the fact that they are losing a loved one, it may be forgetting their voice, their scent, their face. But what about seeing the face you are so used to seeing every time you look in the mirror reflected on your beloved's face? The fear, anxiety and restlessness that one grows used to as just 'being a part of them' is reflected on someone else and you see how shattering it is to have to inflict this pain upon someone else. Castorice can only look away, because seeing herself reflected on you is too much.

"Was this ending not good enough?"

Your words were selfish.

"I lost you one hundred and forty times, you do not get to hurt about losing me."

Her words had a bite to them; they were even more selfish, if anything.

"You get me coming back every time!" You snapped, taking a step forward only to stop when you noticed her taking one back. Out of fear, not of you, but of embedding her curse on you. "You aren't coming back."

It was one thing to know that you finally love her back, it was another thing to know she cannot have it forever.

"It's not within my control."

You looked away, blinking away tears. You guys already had your story written out in a book you do not understand, engraved in the skies as the path you are destined to take. It is the unwavering truth, it is the stone that crushes the soul.

"How long until you leave?"

"Two hours."

"Then allow me to accompany you for the last time."

It hurt, to know that you had to finally accept the harsh reality of letting her go. The pain that she had to endure for however many years it has been, it was finally your turn. She never wanted you to feel this way, but she also never wanted to experience the same loss again. She watched you contemplate, she watched your hand twitch as you fight the urge to hold her face for the first and last time. Instead, you heaved out a sigh so heavy it was like the weight of the sky itself had just been set on your shoulders.

The final farewell came in the form of the day they departed Okhema to Styxia. The day the Flame Reaver ambushed. Outside the gates of the Nether Realm, deep in Styxia. You were hidden, you were supposed to be safe. Cipher had already bidden farewell and you were supposed to be on your way but it came. You brandished your blade, narrow and thin, and it stood no chance against the beast before you. The final farewell was to ensure the Flame Reaver did not take your core flame. It cannot take it if the host itself is already dead. Castorice cannot die. She sees the thoughts running through your head. Like a quick time event, time slows down. She watches your eyes dart from the Flame Reaver, to her, to the blade in your hand. It wants your core flame. It will lose if-

"No, don't you dare-"

Before she can even shout the words out, you drop your blade. The Flame Reaver lunges for you, and you tackle her through the gates of the Nether Realm. She feels it for the first time. She feels your arms around her. She feels your calloused hands on her back, your warmth against her cold, icy body. She feels it all, and she knows this is the final farewell. She can only let out a shuddering gasp. Your lips graze her neck, pressing a tender kiss against it. Right under her ear, a soft sensation.

"I love you."

It is the first time you said it out loud. Because these three words can be said without any words, it can be shown through the way you sit next to her through the depths of the evening and it can be seen in the way you look at her. But to hear it is entirely different. To hear it is to accept it. To accept it, it is what makes it so hard to let go.

You had already faded into ash in her arms by the time her back crashes against the ground of the Nether Realm. And she surprises herself with her own silence as her arms remained up, hugging the ghost of what was her lover. How cruel it is, that the last time she gets to hold her lover is also the first time. The final farewell came in a field of flowers that bloom from the souls of the departed, where for the first time, they do not wilt in her proximity.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail fanfic #castorice #castorice x reader #hsr castorice

24 notes · View notes

bloodlines-if · 16 days ago

Note

hi McDreamy.

just found your blog and so far your IF sounds really interesting. i was so intrigued, that i was searching or the link to the demo, only to realize, that it doesnt exist yet.

when first realizing, that Mc is weaker than the RO´s/most other people i had 2 thoughts: a) wouldnt a (investigative journalist) MC already crafted a safety net for themselfs consisting of dirt, secrets, blackmail and whistleblowers, who would publish those informations incase of MC´s demsie? [under the assumption, that we play as an MC that is already an establish investigative journalist in the city]; and b) i envisioned the following scene => MC got kidnapped and ready to get killed. a higher up then asks for MC´s last words, to which they just say a date. after seconds of silence, MC is let go. congrats, you have a scene, where a regular human has a badass moment.

now to my questions:

depending on MC´s occupation, will there be "special" flavour scenes OR dialogue choices, that are only avaiable with the specific occupations? ==> e.g. someone needs secrets to blackmail someone, will there be a choice only avaiable for the investigative journalist, like "i already have what you want, but it will cost something"

can you tell some more details about how the story construct will look like? what i mean is: => will there be multiple endings; will there be special endings for each RO when in a realtionship with them (criminal powercouple MCxLuz *wink wink*); will there be good and evil endings/paths => will there be stats and if so: how much will they influence? only flavoure text or locking you out of choices? => etc.

do you plan to introduce all RO´s in the prologue/chapter 1? or will some only appear in later chapters for the first time?

you mentioned that each career background would have advantages and setbacks. could you share (some) advantages of each one? i personally cant see a difference between investigative journalist and whistleblower (in terms of different advantages) for example

i was on the fence interms of which RO to choose. it was either E or Luz. the most recent ask about the MCxLuz power couple swayed me in the end towards Luz. this question i ask for your opinion as the author: if i want to romance Luz and (if possible) get the criminal powercouple ending, what would you say would be the "best" (lorewise/storywise/additional scenes;flavourtext;etc) career background for MC?

anyways, im really excited for the release of the prologue/chapter 1 and thanky our for your answers.

I love your enthusiasm and your questions! Since this is rather long you'll find the answers under the cut:

a) Yes MC is already well known in Sordia and has a safety net the player can decide if they've good morals for a journalist or are a little corrupted. Some people will depend on the career background.

b) Yep you got it right! MC is not dumb and needs to plan beforehand 🙂‍↕️

Question 1:

Yes depending on MC´s career background, there will be special flavour scenes, skills and dialogue choices, that are only avaiable with the specific occupation

Question 2:

There will be multiple endings career wise and RO wise. Bad endings, neutral endings, somehow good endings you name it.

Still not 100% sure about all the stats but there will be a reputation stat, paranoia stat, personality stat based on MCs base personality, morality stat, vices, relationships. I don't know how much they'll influence since I need to see how this works coding wise. But yes I would like it to impact flavour text, choices etc.

Question 3:

No. Prologue is Mauds POV. Chap 1 you'll be able to meet Ace and the rest of the RO's in Chap 2.

Question 4:

Okay so this can still change but basically MCs writing and reporting style will differ a little. And they'll get a special trait and skill. I don't have my notes with me so I think it was:

Investigative Journalist

Trait: Stubborn or Methodical

Skill: Research & Investigation (sees connections faster and doesn't miss clues) but people hunt their contacts and paranoia stat is higher

Whistleblower

Trait: Relentless or Arrogant

Skill: Insider Access/Information Networks (through hacking) but corruption stat is higher and you start with a very bad reputation stat since no one likes a Whistleblower in Sordia

War Correspondent

Trait: Hardened

Skill: Knows Self-Defense Moves (has a better reputation) but can be too reckless (gets scars, hurt or can die easier)

Tabloid Reporter

Trait: Manipulative

Skill: Persuasion can make people talk easier but is seen as untrustworty (bad reputation)

Question 5:

Honestly every character will react differently and have their opinions sure but I don't think they necessarily have a fave. There isn't a best option story lore wise etc. since I'm aiming for equal representation. MC is the face of lots of news. The articles they write and report will differ but in the main story MC will need to investigate about those 12 photos.

#dream-answers #bloodlines if

23 notes · View notes

thebestjjenthusiast · 4 months ago

Text

carolina’s children

02 | 03 | 04

“the person you are trying to reach is not accepting calls at this time-“ i pressed the red button at the bottom of my screen and turned to pope

“rafe’s not answering” i looked at him. something in his gaze was telling me he was not surprised and honestly, so was i.

“alright off to JJ’s?” chris asked exhaling the marlboro smoke in his lungs.

“i guess”

and just like that, we are now standing infront of jj, internally praying that our speech would move him and does us the favour of joining

“… even just for this time only, and i promise, we wont be mad if you want to quit in the future” i was done with my speech and now we are all just looking at jj

he doesnt look too complicated with the whole situation, in fact, he doesnt even look surprised.

“jj?” pope asks, trying to figure him out too

“alright” jj shrugged and chris dapped him up

me and pope exchanged looks, starting to stress over a new factor now

how are we possibly supposed to train jj in less than 24 hours to go out there and sing

“okay we’re going to pick the easiest we can for you okay?” i look over at jj who has a shit ton of papers infront of him, all covered with song lyrics and a mic laying next to his foot as we are all sitting on the floor of chris’ room

“yea i can do that” he says looking at all the sheets laying around

“dude do you think youll be able to sing cant stop or like come as you are? ive been dying to play these” chris says and earns a stare from me

“dont pressure him!” i whisper-yell

“sorry” chris spat back

“youre about to ask him to play radio gaga next-“ my scolding was cut by a voice clearing

“uh y/n someones calling you” pope said as he looked at my phone being laid upside down on the floor

i grabbed it “hold on” i said as i picked up

“hi rafe” i said as i gained all attention on me

“yea i know i left you a few calls, but its not important now” i continued as pope kept glancing at me

“no what i wanted to tell you- ask you practically is to join my band for like tomorrow’s concert, but no worries its not important now” i stated fidgeting my nails with my free hand

“what?” i asked shocked as i looked around in the room

“what happened?” jj asked scooping closer to me as i put it on speaker

“i said i could do that” rafe repeated himself

“join the band?” chris asked as surprised as i was

“is that chris?” rafe was heard through the phone

“yea it is” pope added

“are you all listening to me right now?” rafes confusion was being very audible

“yes i put you on speaker, but focus! you said yes?” i repeated once again and rafe agreed one more time

as soon as we hung up the room was filled with silence, jj looking around waiting for an opportunity to speak up. i could see it in his eyes that he was aching to hear what we were thinking about, but to be fair, i didnt even know what to think right now

i mean who could be more reliable for a singer and just in 24 hours? jj who was full of surprises and living by a controversial motto, or rafe, who i could never imagine standing infront of a mic and singing something that the audience would like?

“so.. what are we going to do?” chris spoke up first, gaining everyone’s staring gaze and causing the room to fall into a deeper silence.

taglist: @rafeysworldim19, @amterasuu, @bee-43, @eviepostssometimes, @imsiriuslyreal, @sarahmaybank

an: to be honest with you all i cant imagine either of them singing but LOL this band plays mostly songs that are more challenging for the instrument players than the singer!!

33 notes · View notes

xoxoxkisses · 11 months ago

Note

OK SO HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUTT

i know youve already written one for hanahaki but what if this time muichiro has it? (please forgive me if youve already written one where mui has hanahak)

SO BASICALLY this could go 2 ways either mui has a one-sided love with the reader or mui has a one-sided love for sum1 else and the reader gets jealous (but the reader doesnt know why cause mui and the reader are only bestfriends, right?)

oh em gee! Idk why I haven’t thought of this, tysm for this request! ————————————————————————

Petals

muichiro x reader

warnings: small angst, fluff, jealousy, slight language, friends->lovers

————————————————————————

It was a cold, snowy day when you got sent a letter from your best friend, Muichiro. You thought it was odd since he wasn’t active much during the winter months. Regardless of the snow, you dressed up accordingly and went to his estate.

When you arrived, you felt a cold chill run down your spine, you tried to brush it off as the cold getting to you, but this was different. When you stepped inside, you felt a little sluggish. Muichiro was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn’t too unusual. “Muichiro, im here! Where are you?” At that moment you heard some violent coughs coming from his room. You quickly made your way down the hall and to his room, you didn’t bother knocking when you came up to his door.

When you opened it, you saw him hunched over coughing up flower petals. When he took a deep breath, he looked up at you. You stared at him in a horrified expression. “Hey y/n, I’m glad you made it.” You quietly shut his door as you walked to him, you kneeled down beside him as he grabbed onto you. “Hey are you okay?” He shook his head. “No, I don’t know what’s going on.” You sighed. You’ve heard of this before. “It’s probably Hanahaki.” He looked up at you confused. “What’s that?” You cleared your throat.

“Basically it means you are receiving punishment for loving someone who doesn’t love you back. If you don’t get help you’re going to die.” He looked at you shocked. “But, I thought Iko liked me.” Oh yes of course, Iko. Poor Muichiro didn’t realize the girl was using him for her own gain. It pissed you off whenever he spoke so fondly of her, but you overheard her talking shit about him. “Y/n, how can I get helped?” You sighed as you shifted beside him. “Well, you won’t like it,” you breathed, “you’ll have to get a surgery, and unfortunately that means you won’t ever feel those feelings for that person again.” He took a painful deep breath. “But, I can’t stop loving her, I just can’t.”

Your anger got the best of you. “Dammit Muichiro, don’t you see?! She’s killing you. She doesn’t like you!” You had tears in your eyes, this selfish bitch was killing your best friend. He deserved someone better, someone who could treat him bet-wait..why did you care so much? You’re just friends, right? “How could you say that about her? She doesn’t know what she’s doing. Don’t ever speak about her that way ever again. You know what, just leave.” Your heart dropped as he said that last sentence, but you knew you had to go. You hesitated to get up, but when you did, the both of you felt cold. ————————————————————————

You hadn’t heard from Muichiro in a few weeks, but you had heard that Iko was now taking “care” of him. It pissed you off. Just thinking about her being with him in such an awful state made you mad. But why?

You knew his condition was worsening. You overheard from some of her friends how his state of health was, and it didn’t sound good.

You heard a knock on your door around a month later. You went to see who it was, only to be met by Muichiro. “Muichiro! Hi.” The look on his face looked apologetic. “Hey. Can I come in?” You nodded as you let him come in.

The two of you sat in silence in your living room. Muichiro decided he would be the one who broke the silence. “I’m sorry Y/n.” “It’s ok.” He tried to say something, but he couldn’t form any words. “So how are you?” He looked up at you and back down. “Um, well, I’ve been great. I uh got that surgery.” Your eyes went wide. “Really?” He nodded. “I overheard Iko talking about my condition to one of her friends and I decided I didn’t want to be inlove with her anymore. Especially when there was someone better all along.” Your heart thumped louder in your chest.

“Who are you talking about?” He looked into your eyes, signaling what you thought. Your eyes went wide as you blushed. Suddenly, he moved closer to you, closing the distance between you. Suddenly, he kissed you. It felt great, it really did. When he pulled back you touched your lips. “Why did- why did you do that?” He sighed. “Y/n, when I got the surgery it opened my eyes. Everything replayed in my head and I remembered how you acted whenever I mentioned her and it all clicked, and so did my feelings.” You blushed. “So you’re saying you like me?” He nodded. “Do you like me Y/n?” You sat there for a moment thinking. Is this why you had been so jealous? You couldn’t ignore the way your heart beat a little faster when you saw him. So maybe it was love?

“I do.” He smiled at you as he pulled you into a hug. “I’m glad. Thank you.” You smiled also. “For what?” He pulled back from the hug. “For reciprocating my love.” You blushed. You would do anything for him, and he knew that, and this was something you could easily do. ————————————————————————

ugh this was rushed I’m sorry! I’ll most likely be taking a small break bc of school and I’m already so tired!

#viralpost #demon slayer #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny muichiro #muichiro x reader #demon slayer muichiro #muichiro tokito #tokitō muichirō #muichiro fluff

62 notes · View notes

arikashimorika · 5 months ago

Note

Oooo. the Color Gang being so young means they've probably latched onto Alan as some sort of parental figure, not definitive, but it'd be there. Esp TSC, though bc Alan and TSC spend more time together esp when animating, TSC might encounter Noogai. Though it'd be unlikely to happen too often. But regardless, due to these varuous factors and how they dont have other bigger influences other than the internet and Purple and Mango, Alan's behavior is basically normal for em.

DJ living with Alan... Now im just imagining there just being a bunch of sticky notes around the house for Alan to see just in case Noogai kicks in and causes him to forget. Sometimes(atleast in my experience, may be diff for others with DID), My alters can like manifest as voices in my head, undefined. I do know its them bc only bc theyre distinct voices. However this applied to Alan...

Alan definitely thinks Noogai providing commentary is simpky his intrusive thoughts, especially with how violent those thoughts would be if theres conflict that violence can be used in.

Also, the thing about Purple and Mango, Purple would notice but likely takes abit longer, Mango on the other hand would kinda clock in that Alan's behavior is weird, not exactly that Alan has DID, but that Alwn's behavior is just. Off.

Theres also Chosen and Dark! If ever Dark survives in this AU or not, i think he'd be insulted Alan remembers Chosen but not him /silly. Althought their reactions would be kinda on diff ends, in the end they're both likely experiencing some whiplash with how DIFFERENT Alan is now compared to then(in their own eyes.), unaware of Noogai(for now...)

The one im fascinated by the most is Victim's reaction however. Like how would he feel if the man that tortured him for months on end was somehow also not the same man yet is? And that man doesnt remember him at times but other times he can. That the person he sees behind the screen either looks so kind or so cruel you'd wish you escaped sooner. Idk im rambling again! hehehe

Stupid Alan and Noogai doodles bc theyre so funny to me. Noogai abt to juggle the sticks like in that one short here /j

He has done nothing wrong ever (LIAR.)

Oh! I’ve seen that. Those poor little kids, Lol

Continuing with questions about DID!AlanAU

I see.. the relationship between Alan and the Color Gang as being similar to someone taking care of "a friend’s kid" (yes, I mean you. DadyDJ). Perhaps DJ just wants Alan to take a break from work and do something lighter for a change.

Even though, sometimes, the result turns out to be the complete opposite... lol

As for Sec, I think he’s like a character Alan hasn’t fully created yet (because he hasn’t been named). But somehow, Sec "came to life" on his own. It’s fun to imagine Alan opening Sec’s file only to discover that his name has already been set as "The Second Coming.exe – The Chosen One's Return." That would definitely leave Alan confused, wouldn’t it?

With Alan’s tendency to be forgetful... yes, DJ sticks reminder notes everywhere Alan might see them—on the whiteboard in his office, the fridge, even on his computer screen. But Alan always takes them down, finding the sheer amount of notes overwhelming and annoying.

---

As for TCO and TDL, I’m not entirely sure about TDL’s fate in the canon, but in this AU, I want him to be alive. It doesn’t seem fair for him to bear the consequences of everything, especially when part of the chaos stemmed from Noogai’s command codes.

After The Showdown

After clearing things up, TCO occasionally visits TSC (sometimes dragging TDL along to apologize for the chaos they caused).

Of course, Noogai tries to stop TDL from harming the Color Gang, but it usually fails (it's kind of like Noogai thinking, Only I get to mess with those kids!).

The Moment Alan Encounters TCO and TDL Again

*Alan introduces TCO to the Color Gang*

TSC: "So, did you create TDL too?"

*Alan looks at them with a confused expression* Alan: "Who’s TDL?"

*The room falls into silence*

TDL unable to hold it in, shouted : "What the HELL kind of joke is this? Are you Kidding me?!"

*DJ, who had been listening from a distance, knew the reason but wasn’t sure how to explain.*

As for TCO, he is indeed a quiet person. Even though he caused quite a bit of trouble when he was first created, perhaps that’s partly due to the influence of the name Alan gave him—who knows? And I think it would be amusing to see TDL sulking at Alan for not remembering him, even though, deep down, TDL is the kind of person who’s too stubborn to openly express his feelings.

Extra scene..

Before the AVM Introduction Scene

DJ was sitting at his desk, playing Minecraft while uploading a video to the AVG (Animators vs. Games) channel.

Alan walked over, glancing at the screen with curiosity.

Alan: "Hey, buddy. What game are you playing?"

DJ turned to Alan, looking utterly shocked before blurting out:

DJ: "What?! You know every drawing program out there, but you don’t know Minecraft? Where was your childhood, man?!"

Not letting Alan off the hook, DJ immediately made him download Minecraft and try it out.

Thoughts on Alan:

To me, Alan wouldn’t have much of an enthusiastic reaction to Minecraft. In his childhood, he probably couldn’t afford the equipment needed to play games. Or, perhaps he just didn’t care about games, choosing instead to spend his time learning and finding ways to create a career for himself.

Alan’s Situation with Purple and Mango

Alan accidentally encounters them about a week after The Showdown...

*Purple and Mango appear after being invited by the Color Gang and Orange.*

As Alan finishes his work and prepares to head to bed, following DJ's advice...

Alan: "Uh… Dude, did you make two more kids?"

DJ (walking behind Alan to check on things): "Excuse me, What?!"

Thoughts on Alan: From my perspective, Alan sees all stick figures as mischievous kids (Color Gang) or troublemakers (The Chosen One and The Dark Lord). He never bothers asking about the age or details of Mango and Purple at all. lol

Victim's reaction however..

In AVA 9 'Wanted'

After the events of The Showdown, TCO was issued a warrant by Rocket Corp, while TDL was recovering from the battle with TSC.

As both were being hunted by mercenaries, TDL was caught first, while TCO managed to escape and seek refuge with the Orange and Color Gang.

After TSC was dragged into the portal by TCO, the Color Gang quickly followed suit.

Alan, concerned about the kids, decided to implement the backup plan he had prepared with DJ since the events of The Showdown.

...And BOOM!!

The backup plan involved using VR to connect with an avatar that was created (of course, all the equipment and avatar design were done entirely by DJ himself—don’t even ask where he got all the materials from; it’s DJ™ business).

This could allow Alan to meet Victim directly, but their first encounter will likely confuse both the kids and Victim when they meet Alan in avatar form, as they have only known each other from the perspective of the cursor (to Victim). Furthermore, Alan has kept this a secret between himself and DJ (to Color Gang).

Of course, DJ has started to worry about Color Gang, who are always looking for trouble. He’s already lectured them, but did the kids learn their lesson? Nope!

#ava #q&a #did!alanau #animator vs animation #alan becker #noogai3 #DJ Welch #sorry the content may be long.#But I don't care because I like to write and explain;)

35 notes · View notes

bridgyrose · 14 days ago

Note

Vampire Cinder has fought a long, storied rivalry with Huntress Ruby Rose. Their final battle comes, with the eternally young and beautiful Cinder meeting an old, weary Ruby with grey hairs and wrinkles. "Your eyes are as pretty as the day we first met."

Ruby gripped the hilt of her scythe as she made her way closer to the cottage shack rumored to house Cinder. The sun had already started to set, what little light was left made the grey in her hair shine a faint silver. After all these years, she finally had a way to stop Cinder. And she was certain today was going to be the last time she’d have to meet her.

As she reached the door, she kicked it down, thankful that her strength hadnt faded with age. But as she walked in, she was met with glowing amber eyes with red rings around the pupil staring at her from the shadows.

“You could’ve just knocked,” Cinder spoke softly as she stepped out from the shadows and towards the edge of the light, a smile crossing her lips. “Your eyes are still just as pretty as the first time we met.”

Ruby moved her scythe, blade facing Cinder as she readied herself for a fight. “I’ve come to end this.”

Cinder let out a laugh and sat down on her couch. “As you’ve said for years, and yet, here we are, meeting once again. What makes you think this time would be any different?”

Ruby tightened the grip on her scythe and took a step closer to the unintimidated vampire. Her breathing started to slow as she felt her heart race. And yet, nothing she did seemed to phase the vampire in front of her. “I finally have what I need to defeat you.”

“Let me guess, another cross?” Cinder asked as she reached for a nearby wine glass. “Or maybe you have holy water with you. Oh, I know, your blade is made of silver now.”

“I know now that you’re a vampire because of the grimm inside you.”

A frown crossed Cinder’s lips while she grabbed a wine bottle from the rack. “I see. So what, you’re going to blast me with your eyes this time?”

Ruby lowered her scythe, silver eyes still glued to the vampire as she watched her remain unintimidated. And yet, something felt… off. In years past, Cinder would be gloating about keeping the upperhand, for Ruby walking into a trap. And yet, she seemed to not care about any of that. “You’re… not worried.”

“Maybe I want a drink before we get into this fight again.” Cinder poured herself a glass of wine, and then a second before offering it to Ruby. “Join me?”

“How do I know you’re not trying to poison me?” Ruby asked.

Cinder sat the glass down and took a sip from her own. “Suit yourself.”

Ruby folded her weapon up and sat down across from Cinder, still keeping watch over her. She had been in this fight with Cinder for longer than she wanted to count, and yet, this was the first time Cinder hadnt made a move against her. No attempts to turn her, stab her, lead her into a trap, just a pair of wine glasses and what looked to be one of the last bottles of wine that Cinder had.

“Once you’re finished with me, what do you intend to do next?” Cinder asked as she swirled the wine in her glass. “Move on to the next monster? Or do you plan to settle down finally.”

“Why do you care to know?” Ruby reached for the glass in front of her and sniffed it. “You’ll be dead.”

“Just because we’re rivals doesnt mean I cant care about your wellbeing. Your heart, it hasnt stopped racing since you’ve walked in here. You dont have much longer either, do you?”

Ruby looked away. “I’ll be fine-”

“But you wont. Your silver eyes, I know they’re destroying your sight and your heart. How many more times can you use them before you destroy yourself in the process? Dont you have anyone to live for?”

Ruby could only sit in silence at the question. Years ago, she could’ve answered with a resounding yes. But now, her family and friends were just a memory and graves that she visited when she could. When she looked at Cinder, all she could see was pity in the vampire’s eyes.

“You dont, do you?” Cinder more said than asked. “I know how that feels.”

“Again, why do you care?” Ruby finally took a sip of her wine, still not used to the bitter taste. “I’m here to kill you, arent I?”

“Yes, but that doesnt mean you’ll succeed.”

In a flash of an eye, Ruby felt Cinder’s fangs against her neck, unsure of when the vampire had moved. The hand she’d normally use to grab her scythe had been pinned to the couch and she could barely move.

Cinder pulled her fangs away and whispered to Ruby. “I’m still in my prime and you’ve aged well past yours. Using your eyes will be sure to kill us both, and then there’ll be nothing left. No stories of either of us, no one to remember us, just two rivals faded into obscure legend by the few traces we left. Is that really what you want? Or are you just looking for a way to punish yourself?”

Ruby closed her eyes. “If you’re going to kill me, do it.” All she could do was stay still as she felt Cinder’s fangs brush against her neck once more, only to pull away.

“I have no intent to kill you. In fact, I… I’m ready for this rivalry of ours to end.”

Ruby opened her eyes. “I-I dont understand.”

Cinder moved back to her seat and picked up her wine glass. “There’s nothing more for me to gain with it. Turning you or killing you when you were younger would’ve gotten you out of my way, but now… Salem’s gone, vampires are starting to become more accepted and there are other ways to get blood now besides just abducting people to feed from… So, I leave us with a choice: either we both die, or we both get to live out the rest of our lives atoning for what we’ve done.”

Ruby nodded and stood up, her hand reaching for her scythe. She unfolded it one last time, staring at the blade and then at Cinder. She could end it all now, be done with everything. No more Cinder, she’d certainly die, but then again she would die anyway. It was all down to her choice.

And yet, all she could do was drop the scythe onto the coffee table in front of her and start to walk out. “We’re done.”

“You’re not going to finish your wine?” Cinder asked.

“I’m not a fan of the stuff.”

“Then maybe I’ll find you next time we can get something to eat together.”

Ruby paused at the door of the cottage and sighed. “I thought you didnt get anything out of eating.”

“I dont, but I want to make sure that I see you again,” Cinder answered back. “You still deserve someone at your side until its your time to pass.”

“Fine,” Ruby said, waving her off. “Just make sure you dont give me a reason to regret this.”

#rwby #ruby rose #rwby ruby rose #cinder fall #fallen petals #cinder x ruby #vampire!Cinder #Vampire hunter!Ruby

15 notes · View notes

mechs-headcanons · 4 months ago

Note

haven't had many well-organized brain worms as of late, I've mostly just been thinking of that one mermaid au I mentioned, so I bestoweth upon thee some HIGHLY disorganized worms

Ivy bites her nails A LOT like damn near constantly she chews on things in general out of nervousness or frustration and I knooowww the general consensus is "Ivy = mouse" and while I do agree I would like to slide the idea of lemur across the metaphorical table, specifically either your classic ring-tailed lemur or maybe even an Aye-Aye could be interesting teehee Nastya is one of the only crew members that doesn't have some sort of territorial instinct(not to say that she isn't still protective of that which she holds dear, she absolutely is, but its not instinctual, Cyberians simply aren't pack-based) it took a very long time for her to understand why the other crew members were so protective of their things and spaces Marius seems to have REALLY bad hearing, this is due to him having a hearing range used to much higher-pitched noises. He just cant hear very many "low pitched" sounds, which for him includes large chunks of the average human speaking range. He primarily relies on physical vibrations and lip-reading Raph eats small rocks and pebbles on occasion. both simply on account of impulsivity, as well as general bird-digestion things [birds are really weird and I fear no one capitalizes on this with dear Raphaella as much as they should] Jonny has retractable claws as well as normal fingernails, but his claws are very thin and not all that useful in combat. He also has that whole biscuit/kneading instinct thing that cats do, which means a lot of pillows and furniture he frequents have small little holes and scratches in them :3 (hes so cutesy to me I cant explain it like he's just awgagagahfhfjdhddfff) Tim's mechanism is ever-so-slightly miswired, leading him to have a photic sneeze reflex, as well as frequent eyestrain headaches and finally cause I just realized I don't think I've ever said much about the dear ol' Toy Soldier, the question as to whether or not it needs to breathe/eat/sleep/ect, is entirely contextual, and for the sake of drama and tragedy, it has a tendency to lean into any and all disasters that occur in the WORST possible way. like- stranded in the middle of nowhere with no supplies? bam TS actually requires basic necessities now! good luck man! It also loves designing clothes, but its not very good at sewing. Jonny does most of that. when the two do actually get along, they spend most of that time simply making fun little outfits in (almost) complete silence - 🩻

LEMUR IVY OUGH:0

yes nastya being like “jonny im not gonna vanish you’re fine” cause she doesnt know AGH need tjis for a fic

deaf marius,,,,

yes people need to capitalise on weird bird raph more.

little guy jonny is SO important to me!! eksohs

yesyes mmmm all of this mmm TS hdhdhdhdhjd

#mechcanon #askcanon #the mechanisms #not tagging them all #🩻 anon

12 notes · View notes

okiimii · 28 days ago

Text

@sophieinwonderland

well, i guess ill make a direct, public post about you since you wont ever reblog my responses to you and why your views are bigoted. bigoted thoughts are not the end of your life, you're able to change and improve them. honestly, seeing how much you pick on me specifically, im surprised you havent responded! but that just means you have no argument.

i unblocked you because i do want you to listen and respond to what i say. this is a conversation i want to have with you.

you are someone who has never bodily faced direct oppression. maybe for being plural? maybe some other things too, i could be wrong about it, but seeing your posts about oppression really indicates that you don't understand it to a personal level

is futanari in general bad? no! is the word bad? yes! bigenital porn is fine, and has never been said to be bad by anyone in the original argument. futanari, as a word and a porn stereotype, is not too good.

you KEEP using a derogatory word. you constantly say it despite people telling you and you even acknowledging it. its a derogatory word. futanari means hermaphrodite, straight up

we are not trying to censor that. at all. all we want is for people NOT to make headmates based off of bigoted stereotypes, and you defended that in the most manipulative way

you didnt win. you're not a poc, you are not intersex, you have zero skin in this game. you pick and choose what minority to listen to, if they agree with you

that is bigotry. even some right-wing people pick what trans person they support (like blaire white!). you cant pick what minority you listen to. you either listen to all, or none at all.

im soooo tired of you saying you're a leftist, an activist, etc. because, you're not. you're a person on the internet that a niche group of people know. even i have made more of an impact on the world than you, i have gone out irl and protested, ive been peppersprayed, ive been almost arrested for fighting for rights of minorities

you are not an activist. you are someone who silences minorities for your own gain and comfort. if someone sees you as a bigot, that hurts you. you don't care about your bigotry, but you see bigotry as being a bad person. you don't want to be a bad person, so you defend your actions, despite the bigotry

i truly dont think youre a bad person. and i think you can improve your bigotry. but defending it when those minority groups say otherwise, is very not a good look or a good mentality. being wrong and admitting it is the most mature, and attractive thing someone can do.

anyways, i do respect you as a tulpa and as a person, sophie. i do hope to see improvement on how you listen to minorities. because it really doesnt seem like you do.

#syscourse #sophiecourse

13 notes · View notes

cxyotl · 3 months ago

Text

fuck it. van der linde gang members rated by how willing i would be to actually go fishing with them as someone who is autistic about fishing:

arthur: 9/10. would be 10, i feel like hes a great sportsman and would be mindful with the catch and release, but hes a little too self deprecating. ur scaring away the fish dude.

john: 9/10. also a great sportsman. i think he has plenty of respect for the fish but if he fell into the water i wouldnt be able to save him and that stresses me out.

abigail: 6/10. she seems like the type to just wanna hang out by you and watch and talk to you, which i always find a little awkward. maybe she’d ask to lend the rod for a couple goes which i wouldnt mind, and i WOULD love to just chat with her, but i’d probably just put my rod away and spend that time sitting with her and chatting.

jack: 2/10 he doesnt give a SHITTTTT. and hes like four years old what the hell do i talk about with a four year old. i do really enjoy helping others learn how to fish so maybe if it was me, him, and one other person i like out on the water together i could handle it. 12 year old jack is the same. 19 year old jack, i think i could convince him to go fishing but he still wouldnt rlly be game so :/

dutch: 0/10. he’d try to manipulate me into sharing my bait with him. also i feel like he’d talk about his stupid philosophy book too much and i’d have to drown him right there.

hosea: 9/10. solid grandpa & grandson fishing time. hell yes. supportive, chill, would probably buy us both drinks before the trip. he’s such an interesting guy i would never tire from hearing one of his random lore drops and i think he would listen to me too.

miss grimshaw: 3/10. i’m worried she’d yell at me over something small like. idk my choice of bait. and im so scared of disappointing her. idk if we’d have much to talk about either.

tilly: 10/10 i’d worry that im boring her but the conversation would be soooo fucking fire i think. shes real asf i think we’d be able to have some loooong talks about the gossip surrounding people in camp or like. the goals we have and how achievable we think they are. she’d totally get a little competitive and challenge me about which of us catches more, and she’d knock me CLEAN on my ass but i wouldnt even mind.

karen: 8/10. she kinda reminds me of my tia so i’d be nervous to invite her, but i think by the time we get to the spot we’d be able to enjoy our time. she’s really fun i think she’d catch a few fish and then go like “hey heres a crazy idea. lets jump in the freezing cold water.” definitely not the type to want to clean the fish though. and i might have to set up her rod for her bc she just doesnt feel like doin it that day.

mary-beth: 8/10. i think she’d really enjoy the fight when reeling in a fish, and i think she would really enjoy the peaceful time out in nature you get with fishing, but then again she might go super quiet and use it as like “ohhh my god i need to pay attention to everything thats going on rn so that if i ever write a character who goes fishing i know Exactly how it feels and how it works” and then it’d be like. us sitting in silence bc i’d be too afraid to break her concentration.

molly: 5/10. same as abigail but i think she might be a little less inclined to try. which i still dont mind. we’d just make it a “sit by the river and talk about our feelings” thing at that point. which she desperately needs so i do NOT mind. molly girl come take a walk with me lets talk about why you need to leave dutch ASAP. LMFAO.

lenny: 9/10. i think he’d get a bit competitive and if we bring drinks i dont think he’d make it back to camp alive. especially if theres a bite going on i think he’d get a little TOO hyped up. HOWEVER. his mind is extremely interesting to me and i think the quiet moments where there isnt a bite taking all his attention he’d be very fun to discuss philosophy with.

bill: 2/10. between chapters 2-4, maybe. i think he’d be like weirdly mean about something and piss me off early on and then it’d get really awkward. chapters 5 and beyond? sorry probably not.

javier: 10/10. if i embarrass myself in front of him i might as well walk into the river and never come back. tbh. but hes cool and he’d share his bait if its working better than mine.

charles: 11/10. definitely mindful and respectful to the fish. would totally be on board with going on a fishing trip and would be super fun to hang out with. i dont think he’d talk much, but he’d be hella supportive and compliment the catches you get and honestly thats enough. hes a quiet dude i cant blame him.

sadie: 10/10. idk if shes interested in fishing at all but it seems like a hobby she’d enjoy. even if just to take some of the edge off after a particularly big mission.

sean: 8/10. half the fun of fishing is dropping ur lore with whoever ur fishing with and i truly would not mind hearing about his da or whatever other stories he’s got. i know for a FACT he’d be an active listener and engage with the conversation fully, so it’d be really nice. however if he got bored of it he might start purposefully trying to get me to mess up by scaring away the fish or something and i would have to shoot him dead.

kieran: dude like 12/10 he’s the ideal fishing buddy. confident about his abilities and still very complimentary and supportive? yup. openly excited about the trip? yup. freely sharing whatever tips he’s uncovered over the years? YUP. i also believe he’d be mindful of his catch. idk hes a very nice guy i cant see him being like mean to the fish he catches.

pearson: 10/10. fishing stories galore from that man. i would not mind hearing him yap about like. “i watched a guy get eaten by a shark once.” like what the hell?? tell me more silly man. he probably brings some real good bait to throw in, too. experienced, but willing to lend a hand. i love you pearson.

trelawny: solid 5/10. he might pull a magic trick out and duplicate the single fish he caught and it would piss me off so bad i would start killing and eating him. that or its just a genuinely enjoyable time.

uncle: 3/10 hes fun as fuck but i fear he’d bring out some truly horrifying bait. last time i made a fishing hc with him i said he’d bring scrambled eggs and i stand by this observation. anyway, i’d enjoy it for a while and then he’d stress me out.

strauss: 0/10 i dont ljke him

swanson: 1/10. i love you reverend swanson but you are… a mess. idk if i’d trust him around a body of water for very long. during the epilogue when hes like sober and happy again maybe i’d take him out to the lake for a bit but then he’d be too busy. 1 points bc i need to explore his mind and the fishing spot is the best spot for that.

micah: -100000/10 i’d rather die than ever be alone near micah bell. honestly if we were FORCED to go fishing together i might straight up kill him right there before he gets the chance to utter a single slur i do NOT fw him.

Bonus! jeremy gill: -100000000000/10 he brings dishonor on the noble hobby of fishing. i hate this guy.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #van der linde gang #im not going to tag all these people thats a lot #if i missed anyone lmk i did this off the top of my head

8 notes · View notes