#there's also conflict you could find here too. they both have an unhealthy obsession with becoming stronger for differing reasons

[1pcii]

I can't believe I'm being endeared to zo/suke as much as I am considering I generally dislike sasuke shipping as he tends to be used as nothing BUT a shipping vessel. but honestly an anti-government pirate/swordsman boyfriend would be so good for his whole deal in a vacume...

[animeyanderelover]

Image

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possession, obsession, violence, trauma, angst

You hated this. You hated everything about this situation you found yourself in right now. Why couldn’t you be granted your peace for even a single evening? You had just managed to get away from Subaru only to find yourself minutes later chased down by one of the triplets, Laito. You were at least glad it hadn’t been Kanato but truthfully speaking, you wouldn’t trust this man further than you could throw him.

You had only gotten the chance to interact with Laito a few times as with most of the other brothers besides Subaru but you had found out enough about him during those few times to know that you should stay away from him. His good looks and initial playful charm aside, Laito had a terrible personality. He was gleeful, sadistic, perverted, very disrespectful and like all of his brothers sadistic.

He loved getting under the skin of others without caring for the consequences. Because he always managed to use his wits to avoid any sort of conflict whilst also getting to enjoy whatever his shenanigans meant for his victims. It was your own misfortune that he had set his eyes on you to kill two birds with one stone as he knew how the youngest brother felt about you.

"~Fufu, what do we have here? Aren't you supposed to be with your guard dog? Your his favorite toy after all. Or did he finally get bored of you?"

You felt the clear indignation roaring up inside of you but knew from previous experiences that you would play right into Laito's hands if you would let your anger get the better of you. So you did your best to swallow everything down and not show your feelings, deny him the chance of getting to enjoy riling you up. Yet you couldn't help the way your jaw clenched as you had to suppress the urge to snap at him. It was so frustrating for you, the new feeling of helplessness that you were always in these days.

Before Subaru had abducted you, you had never ever been as weak and helpless as you were now. You had been able to make decisions on your own, had been far more independent. But you were only human after all. A human surrounded by vampires who would like to use you as nothing more than a toy and blood bank. Now you could only sharply bite your tongue, press yourself against the wall Laito had cornered you against and glower at him silently. Of course that didn't affect him though as he only giggled lightly when he caught you staring at him like that.

"Now, we don't want your face to have any wrinkles because of the silly faces you pull. I only wanted to talk with you. Subaru never shares you with us after all. It's such a shame honestly, I would like to get a taste of your blood sometimes too." he purred in a disgusting tone, his one hand creeping under your chin and slowly lifting it up to get a good look at your neck.

Out of reflex you instantly slapped his hand away from your face, your skin crawling where his fingers had lightly graced you. He was infuriating, your suffering was for him nothing more than light entertainment as he had never seen you or any human that had entered this mansion as more than food to toy with.

"I'm not a blood bank! Not for you, for Subaru or anyone here!" you sneered at him with agitation in your voice as your previous half-hearted attempts to hold everything in were all but wiped out from your mind. You could have slapped him when you saw the grin that started spreading on his lips when he looked at your face scrunched up in anger.

"I must say, your little tantrums are rather cute. So you think you're special, are you?" You full on flinched when both of his hands suddenly grabbed your shoulders, slender fingers digging into your flesh whilst he pushed his face closer to yours.

"The only reason why you aren't dead yet is because your blood is somewhat delicious but don't think that you're anything special and get to act like a brat, you little bitch. Ultimately you're replacable. You don't have to show anything besides your somewhat decent blood. I mean, look at you."

One of his hands slowly moved up from your shoulders, his fingers purposely dragging themselves closely up your skin to see you cringing and jerking away from your touch, discomfort and disgust painted on your face. He squeezed your jawline harshly and forced your head to turn around from side to side, green eyes leering at you with a gloating twinkle.

"You're ditsy, vague and stupid. Do you really think Subaru is interested in you? Let me tell you right now, he'll dispose of you as soon as he's had his fill of you. If that day ever comes though..."

You let out a choking whine when he started squeezing you lightly, his breath fawning over your face as his own face was close enough for your noses to rub against each other. Piercing green eyes captivating your own glare before his attention wandered down to your neck where he could feel your own quickened pulse. Your eyes widened with horror when he lowered his face to your neck.

"If that day ever comes, you can always come to me. If you beg enough, I might allow you to become my new pet."

You started to violently move in an attempt to push him away, panic shooting through your veins when you felt him smelling your neck, goosebumps errupting all over your skin as your body entered a flight-or-fight mode, your gut churning with fear.

Before his teeth could sink in though, before any sharp pain could immobilize you though, both of you heard the loud slam of a fist punching the wall. Your eyes flew to the sound and your heart dropped when you saw Subaru standing there.

His whole face was contorted in ager as he stared at Laito and you, red-pink eyes glaring at his older brother and his muscles tensed up to the point where you noticed that he was shaking. His fist that had smashed the wall had left a visible dent, cracks going through the solid material of the spot.

"Well, would you look at this! Seems like your hero has arrived after all. I hope you won't mind me just having a little fun with your bitch here." The last sentence was directed at Subaru himself as if Laito wanted to fuel the anger of the white-haired male even more. If it was his intention, which you assumed it most likely was, it definitely worked. Subaru let out a sound from deep within his chest which almost sounded like a growl, sharp canine teeth shortly exposed before he stormed towards Laito and you.

"Bastard!"

Just like that, Laito all of a sudden pushed you towards Subaru with surprisingly much force and made his escape, apparently not in for a physical brawl with the youngest Sakamaki brother. You caught him winking playfully at you before he turned around, his movements far too cheerful for someone who was running away.

For a moment you forgot about Subaru as you were left too shocked and flabbergasted with Laito before you were caught by your captor, his arms squeezing you a bit too tight as he had been caught off-guard by Laito pushing you away as a way to get away too. Now that you were pressed against his body, you could feel the tremors going through his body and when you dared to look up, you could see him still focusing on the hallway where Laito had disappeared, teeth gritting against each other.

That was before those red eyes filled with anger snapped down to your form, telling you that you wouldn't get out of this without some consequences. For a short moment Subaru seemed to contemplate whether or not to scream at you right here but ultimately he only stood up, wrapped one of his hands harshly around your wrist and stormed back to the room where he had confined you in for weeks now. Your pleads and cries of pain whenever he yanked you harshly by your wrist as you couldn't possibly keep up with his speed were ignored, most likely one of a few punishments for leaving in the first place.

As soon as he ripped the door open, he pushed you inside. You caught him scanning if any of his brothers were lingering somewhere outside near his place before he slammed the door.

"What did I tell you about leaving this room without me by your side?!" he snapped at you loudly as soon as both of you were inside, his glare nearly burning you with it's sheer intensity. You flinched once again when you heard him roaring angrily at you, feeling scared all over again. You gulped the lump inside your throat back, even with all your fear right now still unwilling to back down from your rights.

"You can't keep me here forever, Subaru! I'm sick of sitting in here all day long and only being able to venture outside with your permission! I'm sick of being kept by you as a blood bank for you and your brothers! I want to go back home!"

You were almost screaming at him too, be it to overpower his own voice or because you were more frightened than you would have liked to admit in this moment. For a mere few seconds you saw something flashing in front of Subaru's eyes when he heard your words. Perhaps it was guilt, the hatred against himself that had been integrated into him from a young age on, perhaps it was even hurt when you yelled at him that you didn't want to be with him. It all was ultimately stuffed down though as he refused to show that your words affected him to not allow you to hurt him anymore.

"And what just happened because you left without me?! You almost ended up as a snack! You're just a human! You can't just walk around alone in here without any protection!" An undertone of desperation, a hint of a plead as his face twisted when he recalled Laito's attempt just now, urging him to walk over to you and pull you closer to him. You tried to squirm away when his hands were tilting your face, eyes scanning frantically over your neck for any scratch or mark that might have been left by his cursed older brother.

"I wouldn't need any protection from vampires if it weren't for you! Everything was fine before you came into my life! So if I get hurt, blame yourself for forcing me into this mess! I was so much better without you!" yo cried out as you managed to push his hands by some miracle away, the whole screaming peeling away your layers of composure.

It was the second blow, one that managed to break down his facade longer as you saw once again, this time from a close proximity, how your words hit him. The previous scowl on his face faded away as red eyes widened and stared at you, flinching when they saw the venomous, albeit teary, glare you were giving him as if your words had just made him more vulnerable. He let go, taking a few steps back and continuing to give you the same hurt look, his eyes almost silently pleading you to take those words back. You might have felt a short twinge of guilt but if you did, it was so subconsciously and drowned by all the pain, the anger and the sorrow you felt in that moment, bubbling together into hatred against that man in front of you.

"I had everything I needed in my life before! I wrote decent notes in school! I had a good family and nice friends! I never had to worry for my safety or fear that I might get killed by a bloodthirsty vampire who is sadistic and loves to toy with me! I was treated with respect instead of being pushed and tossed around like a piece of trash and I had to never hear someone talking about me like I'm just some disposable blood bank! Now my life is a living hell and it's your fault, Subaru! All your fault!"

"Stop."

So silent, so meak that you could have almost missed it within your own yelling, unable to hold it in anymore as tears started to stream down and you turned positively hysteric. One single word whispered with a shaky voice, so unlike the harsh and booming voice Subaru had used to scare you with just a few minutes ago. Yet you couldn't bring yourself to have any sympathy with him, focused to make him understand, feel guilty, suffer too from all the shit you had been put through those past few weeks.

"No, you will listen to me now! It's all your fault that my life has turned out the way it is! I'm being kept here like a pet, a pet all your brothers can trample on and abuse as much as they like whenever I'm walking around this place! So instead I'm forced to spend my days isolated inside of this room with you who also drinks my blood, bruises and hurts me! All because you have some twisted misunderstanding of love! Why me? Because my blood tastes better?"

In hindsight you should have stopped there as another wave of tremors went through Subaru's body, frozen in place as you lost it right in front of him. Flashbacks of his mother having a psychopatric meltdown passing through his mind, your eyes bearing the same disgusting and hateful look that broke him. Yet you didn't stop. You couldn't. So you delivered the last few sentences with the last power you could muster, the last bit of composure you had left.

"I hate you! It's all because of you! All because a monster like you had to gain feelings for me! I hate everything right now! I can't do this anymore! At this rate I'd rather have you kill me if you don't even let me go back! At least then I don't have to endure this!"

Your last few words were barely audible as you broke out in harsh sobs, your vision blurring with all the tears cascading down your cheeks as you stumbled onto the bed in the room, your knees giving in as you didn't have the strength to stand anymore.

You didn't look up anymore to see Subaru's condition, otherwise you might have known what would have happened soon after. He was completely frozen, a sick feeling pulsing through his body, his skin crawling with a familiar feeling of self-loathe and his eyes pricking with tears. His heart was screaming inside his chest with pain, your words hurting more than a silver knife.

Monster.

Please kill me.

Was he really that repulsive that every person he loved would rather die than love him and stay with him? Was he really that unable to protect someone and make than happy? Why you too?

"Take it back."

This time you really didn't hear him, your own sobs echoing through the room and successfully pushing him into spilling his own tears as his breath became short and frantic, your cries resonating deep inside his heart and resulting in a tight and painful clench in his chest that only intensified the more he listened. Everything felt wrong, waves of cold fear and nauseating panic washed over him as his eyes zoomed in on your crying form on the bed.

Something snapped.

You weren't prepared for the way he pushed himself onto you, pressing you into the mattress and stopping the flailing of your body with his own weight. Just as you were about to attempt to say something coherent throughout your hysteric crying, you stopped yourself as a feeling of dread came crashing down over you. His grip on your arms was far too tight, a pained whimper escaping your lips yet it wasn't the showcase of physical superiority that had the alarm bells in your head go off. It was the broken look in his eyes, bordering one of a maniac. With the tears dropping down giving it an even more unsettling appearance. With his body pressed over yours, you sensed how he was shivering even more violently than earlier.

"Take that back!"

No anger, no wrath, no harshness. Only desperation, pain, a plead to nullify what you had just said. To help him soothing the pangs inside his heart, to stop the way his skin way crawling with disgust only directed at himself.

"You're lying! You don't mean those words! Please tell me that you don't mean those words!"

Your sobs were stuttering and so was your breath as you could only stare into the teary red eyes of Subaru, astonished when you felt his hot tears mixing with your own as they dripped down. You had never seen him crying before, had never seen what he looked like when he wasn't wearing a harsh and angry mask. The difference was jarring as he reminded you of a small child begging for validation and love and tugged at your heartstrings just a tiny bit. Your own pain couldn't just be removed like that though so the best thing you could give him in that moment was a mildly pitiful look, still crying yourself.

"(y/n), please! Please say that you didn't mean what you just said!" he urged you again, fingers digging harsher into your flesh as the clear discomfort and pain showed shortly on your face yet you remained firm in your decision. Your own feelings mattered too and whilst the words you had spoken to him were utterly cruel and something you'd never say to anyone under normal circumstances, you had suffered too much. He might have experienced pain in some way, shape or form too but if he did, you didn't know that yet so you had no reason to feel guilty or try to excuse any of his actions. So you only replied silently with the same somewhat pitiful yet firm gaze.

For a moment you wondered if a vampire could suffer from a panic attack as you took in Subaru's condition. Harsh and erratic breaths that were cut short in his chest, tears refusing to stop falling down and the intense shaking of his body. What he did next though shattered even the smallest seed of concern as his head dived into the crook of your neck, sharp teeth gracing your delicate skin, almost the same spot Laito had almost pierced earlier. Your breath hitched in your throat as you heard and felt Subaru trying to breathe in as much of your scent as possible, most likely in an attempt to calm himself down.

You squeezed your eyes shut, preparing yourself mentally for the incoming pain as older scars from sharp teeth hurting you started throbbing in pain from the memory. Nothing happened at first as you could feel his teeth just lingering on your skin as if uncertain if he should do it. Your expectations weren't diappointed though as you felt surely enough his canine teeth breaking your delicate skin and leaving you with the burning pain as he took the precious red blood inside of you. You let out a silent wail of discomfort and pain as more tears were produced as a result of the feeling. Surprisingly you felt his hands letting go of your arms and sliding down, starting to massage your stiff shoulders as if trying to help you with your distress and pain somehow yet you couldn't appreciate his gesture much as the blood loss slowly got to you and you started to feel weaker and weaker. A last spark of panic got ignited inside of you as you realized that he was drinking more than normally.

Your palms pressed weakly against his shoulders, fruitlessly attempting to push him away from you. Your hands ultimately dropped to your sides as you just stopped resisting, accepting that you would never be able to defy or reject him or any of his brothers and would always just be a toy to feed from. Subaru, sensing that your strength had left you, at least finally stopped and you felt his tongue cleaning up the droplets of blood slipping out from the freshly added wound when he pulled away, although some of it still stained the pillow under you.

Your brain felt fuzzy, to blame on the blood loss, but you did notice that the violent shaking had lessened and somehow knowing that your blood had helped him calming down made you sick. You had no strength left, physically or mentally, to express your feelings though or deepen your thought process and direct more negative feelings at him. You didn't.

The only thing you could do was lay there, with Subaru removing his body from you, red eyes showing concern and guilt as he carefully checked your condition. Your eyes slowly closed, overtaken by exhaustion and burning from all the tears you had shed. You couldn't even muster the power to flinch when you felt Subaru wrapping you up inside his arms and you found yourself pressed against his body, your cheek squashed against his chest.

"Get some rest now. It'll be better when you wake up." you heard Subaru muttering as you started drifting of to the dark wonders of sleep, wondering if he was trying to delude himself and you alike into a sense of normality.

[sakumasmut]

(cw unhealthy relationship?)

Reiiiiiiiiiiiiii i'm having Tatsumi thoughtsssssssssss. I want to make that man do so many unholy things. I want to make him vie for my attention and do everything he can to please me. I want to string him along with little bits and pieces of love and affection, enough to make him crave more but not enough to make him satisfied...

but i also want to do the same to him. I want to sit on my knees in front of him, face on his lap, while he tells me explicitly what he wants to take from me. I want to give him complete obedience and do whatever he says without questioning. I want to worship him like a god and not a holy man

UGH i typically find possessiveness annoying but like. ok hear me out here.

It starts small; meeting Tatsumi, you would never expect him to be the obsessive type. He probably doesn't even realize it either, he just thinks that you're a nice person and that he likes you as one. Then as time goes on and you both develop a bit of an interest in each other, things start... changing.

Tatsumi thinks of himself as a tainted person, he willingly lets himself take the brunt of things so as to let other people feel better and get let off easier. It's a martyr complex he has. He wants to reach out to you and claim you for his own but he feels unworthy of doing such a thing. His nature and problems come in conflict whenever he has wants and desires. In the end, he can't bring himself to taint you as he is, but he can't back away either.

He gives you compliments and gifts, he feels a bit lighter every time you smile at his words and it satiates the unholy desires within him every time he sees you wearing something he gave you. He offers to help you out with work, letting yourself get further than before. He gives you a listening ear whenever you seem troubled, making you lean on him in your times of stress. It's all these little things that entrench him as a person in your life and catch your attention. It his own little selfish way of satisfying his craving and want of you, without ever putting his hands on you or making you truly his.

He truly thinks he'll be content like this, being of use to you as a holy figure despite his unholy desires. Of course things don't go as planned though. With as lovely a man as him giving you so much attention, it's almost inevitable that a bit of interest be sparked in you as well. Unfortunately, it ends up being almost as arduous a situation to you as it is to him. Every single one of your advances reaches almost a brick wall, with him refusing to meet you half-way. Yet you refuse to push the full way yourself, not wanting to cross the barriers Tatsumi has set up by force and instead wanting him to push past your own first.

You try incessantly to bait and tempt him into doing something, anything to indicate his interest in you, to make sense of his constant attention on you, and it is torture to him. He wants you so, so badly, but he can't allow himself to be with you.

At some point, the tension becomes too much and it finally snaps. Someone's hands get a little too adventurous, a little too past what can be considered "friendly", and the careful balance you and Tatsumi have curated falls apart. With you desperately trying to make him stake his claim unto you and Tatsumi desperately trying to be of use to you. It feels oh so good to finally have your hands on each other but it leaves you oh so unsatisfied when all is said and done and it seems like you're no closer to making your goal of making him want you. If only you could tell how much he's holding back and if only he could tell how much you actually want to be made "dirty" by him.

Of course, this situation is only going to escalate further and further. Both of you refusing to fold and push to reach the other, but refusing to give up on what you want from the other. Every physical encounter gets more intense and more serious and in the aftermath, gets harder to play off. It's harder to resist the urge to spend the night afterwards and harder to resist the softer, more intimate, more vulnerable aspects of aftercare.

It all probably reaches a crescendo one day where one of you finally can't resist a forbidden temptation anymore. Whether is be something like him finishing inside amidst a fleeting want to claim you, or you finally snapping at him and refusing to stop holding him down until he finally spills what he thinks about you. Either way, there's no chance either of you are getting out of this dynamic unchanged, whether it be for better or for worse.

Tatsumi... I want for both of us to crave each other so intensely but not know how to control ourselves and communicate that to the other. ohhhhhh.... to have an unhealthily codependent mutually worshipping relationship with that man

ok i'm not rereading this to make sure it's all coherent but like, i think I got my message across. Tatsumi, ykwim?

- @sucrows

good lord crow. call me a professor the way I’m reading over essays.

tatsumi definitely kind of cucks himself with how much he thinks he doesn’t deserve things, so him being simultaneously selfish-ish by lavishing you with gifts is sooo in character of him. and even when you give him so many signals and hints that hey, maybe you do share the sentiment, he just keeps. I say cuck a lot but that’s literally what he’s doing but with feelings. even if you got to the physical touch part he would avoid really labelling your relationship and. augh that’s a lot to think about

personally if I saw you and tattsun with all that sexual tension I would lock you two in a room until you fucked/talked about it

[fleet-off]

*chinhands* talk to me about the WIPs you want to share with the world and how they came to be.

Lilyyyyy. Baiting me with this question when you know I have too many WIPs (16! 16 with 2k+ words apiece! it's a compulsion!). Here are my three immediate priorities once Lapping at the Edges is complete:

Body Bag: The one where Pete finds playing dead relaxing and Vegas decidedly does not. It’s a nonsexual bondage body-disposal roleplay gone wrong, featuring failure to safeword on Vegas’s part and dom drop, followed by hurt/comfort aftercare sex next to the shallow grave Vegas dug for Pete on his request. Their sex life is so weird here. Vegas’s preoccupation with death symbolism is a delight to write from the outside, and the remnants of Pete’s fucked-up passive death wish equally so. And I get to write my favorite unhealthy kink headcanon for them, where they’re both terrible at safewording because one of them has been conditioned to accept punishment and the other believes he deserves it. I am incredibly excited for this fic.

And speaking of bad communication and a preoccupation with death!

Stable Delusion: the resurrection AU, beloved. My little novella about shadows and concealment, empty mirrors and guilt, still waters and autonomy, and Vegas achieving a horror so miraculous that Pete can never know. I woke up months ago with the prologue in my notes app and no memory of writing it, and I’ve been obsessing about it since. Here’s a fresh excerpt (warning for the physical results of S/M):

On the other side of the mirror, Vegas’s skin was a tapestry of damage. Rope burns crowded the insides of his wrists. Dull red lines scored his chest and what Pete could see of his throat. He wore a mass of bite marks on his stomach and bare legs, and a circle of them around his hip. The body was Vegas’s, but the marks belonged to Pete—each a match for one Vegas himself had laid into his flesh. Outside his own skin, he could better appreciate the skill in the patterns of welts peeking past the insides of Vegas’s thighs, the artistry in the pretty chaos of bruises blooming across his belly, the affection in the purples of Vegas’s thumbprints on either side of his throat. In the logic of Pete’s dream, all of this seemed just. If the marks were Pete’s, then they were Vegas’s too, surely. But if Vegas was to have marks, shouldn’t Pete be the one to bestow them?

and third,

Off the Handle: Vegas doesn’t know how to handle low-level family conflict. A tiff over the dishwasher leads him to start sabotaging the means for Pete or Macau to harm themselves. Here’s the bit of the outline that made me fall in love with this one:

And finally Pete approaches him like. “Hey, so Macau found all the kitchen knives stashed behind the DVD player. Is this why we’ve been ordering so much takeout lately?” And, “It’s not ideal as a weapons stash, is the thing. People reach back there without looking. It’s not accessible during an attack. We need those knives for cooking. Also, Macau’s not going to tell you, but it really freaked him out.” And at last, “Is this because I tried to put them in the dishwasher?” “You don’t put wooden handles in the dishwasher.” “…Right.” Pete steels his shoulders, curls his hands in Vegas’s. “Hey. Are you planning something?” Vegas blinks. “The fuck could I be planning? I have nothing to plan.” “You hid the kitchen knives. You said the old ropes were starting to fray, but it’s been two weeks and you keep putting off buying new ones. The lock on the bathroom door is still broken. Your pain meds are gone. Why are your pain meds gone?” “Why are you getting into my meds?” “You know we need you, right?” And Pete’s eyes are dark and earnest, and his fingertips flutter, broken wings against Vegas’s palms. “Vegas, you know I need you?”

Thank you for the opportunity to ramble, Lily! Of course, there’s also a wip that a certain someone has been encouraging me to write despite my own protestations (thank you), and perhaps a recently-learned definite date around which I’d love to offer the story to that particular someone…but I’ll leave those details up in the air (😋) for now.

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#5

One more thing!

Rue knew Hob was at the bloom specifically to find out who called off the wedding.

They were fine with letting Hob assume it was Apollo, and him going to duel Apollo about it. Hob told everyone he was going to do it in the tailor shop.

But.. Rue didn't want to start a relationship with Hob without being their true self. What did they think would happen here?? they'd just lie about it forever??

I feel like that, more than the deed itself, is going to be the conflict that sticks. Like, Hob will have a real hard time forgiving Rue for the slight to his court.

I think he will also have a hard time forgiving them for lying to him for the entirety of their acquaintanceship.

269 notes - Posted September 28, 2022

#4

The revelation that Rue called off the marriage and the subsequent argument/confession is so.. something.

There's so much being said about it and it's got me wanting to sort it out for myself instead of just reblogging other people's thoughts.

I don't think this is a rue vs hob, who was right, situation.

I think that Rue's actions in calling off the wedding were selfish and nearsighted; it had no effect on the court of wonder, but had a huge effect on the goblin court, and truly it was none of Rue's business. People marry for reasons other than love and that's okay!

HOWEVER

you also can't argue with their desire to tear down the courts because like. the goblin court does objectively treat Hob badly. The court of wonder does treat Rue badly. The unseelie treats Andhera badly. The courts have been shown to be petty and power-obsessed at the cost of their own people and of course they are.

I've seen Rue's choice compared to Wuvvy, both making decisions on what they think is best for others and taking their choices away. I think that's.. fair. I think they both have a blindspot.

Rue has had a very bad no good day, they're under a lot of pressure, they're experiencing A Lot, and there's miscommunications everywhere. I think they made a bad choice before they met Hob, before they really let themselves be known and to know others, and I think they might make a different choice, now, with the context.

I also think Hob has a right to be angry! Rue's actions undid something that came from his successes. It hurt him, even if the goblin court has also hurt him, even if that's complicated. He seems to genuinely care about Grabalba!

And he's been treated this way for so long, of course it's hard, nigh impossible, to unsee it. Of course it feels like Rue must have been using him too. Of course he can't fathom choosing himself, as Rue has been begging him to do - he doesn't know that choosing himself could mean choosing Rue, but he doesn't know how to exist outside of service, and I think this episode makes that especially clear.

Hob will go to unhealthy lengths for those he feels loyalty or duty to. He hurts himself to get evidence, he hurts himself to carry someone's bags when he's bleeding, who's to say he wouldn't wind up scarily similar to Wuvvy, existing only to be of service to Rue? Who we know for a fact doesn't want that?

I think most of all, this episode shows, explicitly, how they've been talking around each other for so long.

Hob loves in acts of service - sometimes to an unhealthy degree, but his love language isn't the problem, it's the depths to which he feels he has to go due to his own low self-worth.

Rue is learning self-worth and is currently valuing that above all else.

Of course that causes conflict! I think they can both learn from each other and temper each other, but right now, neither of them understands where the other is coming from - Hob interpreted Rue's motivation as service where it was love. Rue is interpreting all service as Bad now, which again, fair, given their circumstances, but not fair to Hob.

They're having a bunch of separate conversations and none of them are overlapping the way they think it is, and it's hurting them both. And there's only one episode left, so there's no way to fully, totally resolve these massive divides, but I do think they can start on the path. I think we can see them have a happy ending, in which it's clear they're Working On It - both of them.

339 notes - Posted September 28, 2022

#3

Hob and Andhera need to bond over both being horse boys, actually

346 notes - Posted September 21, 2022

#2

Andhera is sitting in this meeting just absorbing from both ends how they're pining and not doing anything and I just

I would love so much if he decides the best thing he should do for his friends (he has friends!!) is to set them up, since they both clearly are into each other and not talking to each other about it.

Andhera clumsily trying to matchmake Rue and Hob (maybe Binx getting in on it for Rue's sake?) would be the funniest and cutest thing and would probably cause so many more problems than it would solve and I want it soooooo bad

471 notes - Posted September 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I'm pretty sure A Court of Fey and Flowers was filmed before Calamity. which means that Brennan making Sam roll insight against his own deception was ACTUALLY inspired by Aabria doing the same to him first. which I love.

1,577 notes - Posted August 31, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[struggling-with-time]

How to spiral out of control [Simpbur x reader]

Pairing: c!Wilbur Soot x fem!reader (Simpbur x reader)

Summary: How simpbur became simpbur. And how you grew up and lived with him.

Warnings: Obsession, unhealthy obsession, stalking, murder, drugging, unhealthy relationship, and Simpbur being a creep.

Words: 5K

Masterlist: Wilbur’s Masterlist - Full Masterlist

A/N: Listen I had brainrot. And I don't know how to defend this. (Also requests are still open! Click here!) And it's unedited for now it's 5:12 am here I will edit later today

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Wilbur was a pretty insignificant child. The death of his mother being one of the most interesting things about his childhood. While he claimed not to blame his youngest brother for the loss of his mother. He certainly had a funny way of showing his youngest brother affection.

Wilbur is the middle child of three. A charming but quiet and well accomplished older brother, who seems to never have to end to his dedication neither success. And his youngest brother, a loud ball of sunshine that just seems to make everyone in a good mood. Truly good with people, something Wilbur never seemed to grasp.

His whole childhood tainted by that fact. Always living in the shadow of his brothers, the clear favourites of everyone who came near the family of four.

So his grades was just average, never good enough to get acknowledged, never bad enough to need extra attention. Just average, like the rest of him. He grew up lanky, not athletic neither unable to run. Wilbur was grey in a family of golden people. His father raised them alone for most of Wilbur’s life. His father that despite never saying it out loud had clear favourites in his brothers. It was always, oh and Wilbur too!

Never him, never just him.

So, Wilbur spent most of his childhood lonely, disregarded and weird. A pitiful child. A pathetic child.

The thing is there was one thing, that made Wilbur worth anyone’s time. One person. You.

His childhood best friend.

Well, that’s what anyone who only knew Wilbur would say. Because you were the only friend he had. However, it was different for you, although the two of you were good friends, you wouldn’t call him your best friend for years. That didn’t happen till you became teenagers.

You had always tried your best to include the weird kid in playdates, birthday parties, and playground games. But nobody else seemed to find him worth their time, with his weird and morbid comments. But you persisted that he wasn’t that weird, besides his older brother was really cool.

So, you stick around, you stick around as playdates become hangouts, as dolls become makeup, and homework goes from learning to read to writing essays.

While you had many friends, both come and go and stay, Wilbur had been there for as long as you could remember. A playground proposal documented on home video. And a remake of it on the day of your school dance. You had played along, but it was known to everyone that your childhood friend wanted to be more than friends. But you stayed, smiled for the camera and laughed it off.

Then the school dance was over, and the last exam had been taken. That’s when you moved a country over, and slowly you lost contact with the people you used to call friends, but Wilbur stayed. Wilbur always stayed.

He finally got the spot as the best friend in your mind too. A definite win in his book.

Wilbur had always been odd, a bit to the left of normal. But now, with distance and screens in between you, he only started to act more concerning. This was around the time he started talking about feeling depressed and useless.

Of course, you always told him you didn’t believe that, what else were you supposed to say? Your friendship turning more and more into therapy sessions once a week for Wilbur on your end. While for him it was the highlight of his week.

Clicking the call button beside your profile picture, an anime girl from one he had recommended to you himself. One he had stayed up an entire night to shift through different animes to find the perfect one to send your way. One he was guaranteed you would watch.

“Wilbur, I should really get off.”

“C’mon stay on just a bit later, please.”

The silence deafening over the video call, he watches you intensely as you pull your legs into your chest, your shitty webcam standing beside you on your bed.

Wilbur reached out for the energy drink beside him, a new habit he has picked up. The more hours spent on the computer, the more he seemed to consume.

“Fine, just half an hour more. But then it’s the last half hour.”

Wilbur smiles at that, you choosing him over everything else in the world. He likes that, he likes that a lot. You valuing him. Spending time with him, and only him. Your attention is his.

“We could always fall asleep on call, then we could keep talking.”

“Another day Wilbur, another day.”

That. That sentence he on the other hand didn’t like. Not one bit. A promise never kept. A promise left unspoken and unpromised from your side, but a broken and abandoned promise on his side.

Then there was the wall incident.

Wilbur wouldn’t have told you if it weren’t for you noticing the hole in his wall. One that matched his fist quite neatly. His father had taken his PS4 in punishment for Wilbur using so much the WiFi plan to call you. At least that’s what he told you.

In reality, he had gotten into a fight with his older brother, his brother had asked about you, how you were doing, and if he could say hi during a call. There was something about the words that had irked Wilbur, something that set him off, something about him that made his brother seem dangerous to Wilbur. So, he had decked his older brother in the face. Causing a blackeye to occur.

In return, Wilbur now sported a big black and blue spot from where he hit the floor. His brother having immediately tackled him.

And to Wilbur that had confirmed his thoughts. Other guys are dangerous, he’s the only one you should rely on.

The wall had taken the brunt of his rage that night, a screaming match with his dad that ended with his little brother getting sent to his friends' house, and his PS4 getting confiscated until Wilbur had gotten a job and was able to pay back the damages.

And he did get a job, much to your surprise. But you had encouraged him throughout it all. A dead-end cashier job that only seemed to make his world staler and more bothersome than before.

A time where he searched for every distraction possible, gaming, music, you.

You were proud of him when he got the hole in his wall fixed, and even more when he kept his job. And Wilbur doesn’t remember you ever giving him more praise than the day he told you he was starting to investigate going to university.

Naturally, you helped him, and along the way, Wilbur picked up a guitar. A new asset to his den of depression that his room had become, decked in led lights, and overpriced RGB gaming stuff.

The university acceptance came rather quick, and suddenly Wilbur was packing up his life and heading to university. Boxes filled with stuff he barely remembered owning, and kitchen appliances that would never see the light of the day.

And he can feel you starting to drift, already busy with your own life. But he clings to you.

He stays, Wilbur always stays in your life. Even when you drift.

Wilbur knows it’s affecting him. It’s not hidden from anyone. The longer that goes between the two of you talking, the sourer his mood gets. The longer you don’t respond to him, the more messages he sends. The more information he craves to know.

Who are you talking to?

Who are you seeing?

Who is so much more important than him?

Hadn’t he always been there for you?

Hadn’t he always stayed?

You owe him.

Wilbur grows bitter and resentful. But not to you, never to you. But for everyone around you. His biggest joys in life now coming from the ungodly amount of caffeine he drinks, and whenever you reach out first.

This is why the day you call him asking for help is forever a day that will bring him joy.

“Hey Will, you’re really good with tech, and I was wondering if you wanted to help me start streaming.”

He chokes on the energy drink. He chokes on his words. He chokes on the air. He drowns.

His heart aching. His anger festering. His-

“Sure.”

He hears himself respond before he can even process the thought.

It takes him 2 days of absence from university, and what feels like 2 even longer nights, before he’s an expert on how to stream. He reads everything he can find, he watched everything that gets suggested.

You asked him for help, so he will help.

But Wilbur, spends these hours conflicted. You want his help, not someone else’s, someone lesser than him. Him.

But at the same time. His mind keeps wandering, isn’t he enough any longer? Isn’t he good enough for you? Why isn’t he good enough for you? Why? Why?

And thus, he learns you how to use the software, and beings alongside you. He finds comfort in knowing most of your streams whenever possible is spent with him on a call with you.

Although that happens after hours of pestering, that doesn’t matter. He gets to talk to you, while the rest is limited to a measly chat.

You seem to find yourself comfortably in the gaming category, slowly growing. Slowly rising.

Wilbur’s own streams, on the other hand, feels more like incoherent rants interrupted by his guitar plays. And once in a blue moon, you are on call with him.

It doesn’t take long before he gives up, watching you grow. Finding more comfort in watching you, instead of being the watched. Not that anyone really did watch him besides for you.

Wilbur stays out of a camera, as you only seem to grow more comfortable being in front of one.

The first time you have someone on a call with you on stream, who isn’t Wilbur. He just can’t help but break his bedside lamp. It’s a guy nonetheless. A guy from the internet. The type of guy Wilbur has never been shy to tell you horror stories about.

And this is where another bad habit of his started to emerge. He just can’t help himself. But you’re laughing with someone else. You’re smiling for someone else. You’re his. Not anyone else’s. His. His. His.

Wilbur is quick to find the donating button he had helped you set up himself. At that time it had only been used a couple of times. Nothing big. But Wilbur wants big. He wants attention. He wants you.

He fumbles with his credit card as he keys in the numbers, he’s a bit too familiarised with them. Because anything he can get from the internet will be delivered that way.

And then the notification pops up on your screen. A donation number you had never expected. And you start crying. Right there. Right on stream. And Wilbur sucks it up. He sucks it right up that you’re crying for him, whiling praising him, and only him.

The match you were playing ruined, and Wilburs smile only grows as he hears the familiar tone of discord receiving a call.

That night. You had ditched the fellow streamer to thank Wilbur and hang out with him.

Something you never thought you would regret.

But oh, how you did. How you did.

It takes Wilbur around 2 months to get used to a large sum of money means special attention to him, and only him. For everyone to see.

And he can feel you pulling away, so each time he donates, it’s bigger. Larger. Grander.

He’s never on your stream without a donation anymore. Never on call for free. But Wilbur doesn’t mind, because everyone gets to see you’re his.

And he keeps increasing the amount as you keep growing until he hits a stalemate. He’s using half of his paycheck on you, while he doesn’t mind going hungry a couple of days. His bills won’t wait for him. And he has been living away from home for far too long to ever think about calling up his father and ask for money.

Not to mention his oldest brother would never. Then neither will Wilbur. Because Wilbur is better. Better than all of them.

The larger your stream grows, the closer graduation arrives, and then Wilbur is sitting in another apartment. Another dead-end job. Another grey life.

Another dull life passing him by. Your voice constantly on loop his apartment. Constantly filling his life. As it always has. But to you, Wilbur is barely a part of your everyday. Only really showing up when a donation comes in. As you once again tell him not to spend money on you.

But he seems to stay. Wilbur always stays.

He’s the first to like anything you post on social media. Always online never off. Always lurking. Never missing. Never absent. He’s always there.

Wilbur never misses a stream; he schedules his life around yours. Even if you’re a country away.

And then one day you’re not. You’re not a country away, you’re moving back. You’re moving closer. And suddenly you live an hour away by car. Instead of an airplane ride, and shitty trains.

Suddenly Wilbur can see himself get a foot in the door. No longer grasping onto his parasitic parasocial friendship with you. He can see himself being more than the childhood friend who has always been there. He can see himself as the partner that always is there.

Wilbur is giddy the entire car ride. He’s giddy as he feels his bag burn on his shoulder. And he’s giddy until the second you embrace him in a hug and welcome him into your new apartment.

It’s bigger than the one you’ve had since university.

And then his future crumbles. You start talking about a guy named Jared. Fucking Jared. Why did even his name have to leave a sour taste in his mouth? A guy you met over the internet. Not just any guy. No specifically the fucker from the first time Wilbur had donated.

Apparently, he wasn’t a streamer, but a friend you had made during your 2 years you lived at university but never told Wilbur about. Not a single mention of him, and suddenly he’s all you’re talking about.

How could Wilbur have known? You hadn’t even mentioned him on stream. Wilbur always listened so carefully, writing down everyone you mentioned. You had called him attentive once, and he would never want to disappoint you. Maybe if he was attentive enough you would look his way.

Instead, here you are talking about this Jared guy. And Wilbur knows what he has to do. A thought he has been toying with for around 3 years now. Ever since you went to Disneyland together. A trip he paid for, and a trip that was streamed, so everyone could see you were his. You were always his.

That was easily his favourite video.

In the week up to the vacation, Wilbur had done everything he could to learn about cameras so he could help you, and do the most for you. He had even helped you sort through some of the non-streamed videos he filmed too for a YouTube video for you.

Which is where he found the clip of you changing.

The camera had been resting on your hotel bed, the video having a clear Dutch angle, leaving the hotel room slandered. But there you were, right square and centre still. Changing. It takes you a minute to finish before you turn around and pick the camera up again. Mumbling something as you turn it to show off your hotel room, and then the clip cuts to black.

He never told you about it, instead just saving that specific clip on a USB stick. A piece of tech he valued more than his life. Not that his life had ever been worth much in comparison to his.

Wilbur rips his bag open, careful not to make a lot of noise. He removed his clothes, and then the fake bottom. And underneath it reveals small security cameras.

Wilbur has never been more thankful for you being a heavy sleeper and letting him sleep on a mattress on the floor of your bedroom. He quietly sets up two in your bedroom, before moving into the rest of your house. One in your office that has been converted to a streaming room. His own personal angle to your public life.

Two more in the living room, he skips the kitchen and hesitates at the door of your bathroom. For the first time, he hesitates. His hand hovers over the doorknob, the other holding the camera.

“Wilbur?”

You’re standing in the hallway, sleep evident on your face.

“Will why are you making so much noise?”

“No reason darling, go back to bed, just needed some water.”

His breath is stuck in his throat until he hears you close the bedroom door again.

That was the first time he hesitated. And his last. He couldn’t afford it. He couldn’t afford to lose you further.

The rest of the trip passes Wilbur by as you introduce him to Jared. The douchebag himself. The asshole. The guy who dares take away what is Wilbur’s. Even on the ride home. All Wilbur can see is Jared’s image etched into his mind. His god-awful fashion sense. The way everything, he wore around you, just seemed to be a size too small. Nobody wants to see that fuckers’ muscles. Wilbur’s knuckles turn white, as he grips the steering wheel.

Jared has to go.

He’s ruining everything. He’s not part of the dream you told Wilbur you had. Jared has never been part of that. Wilbur was supposed to be part of that. Even if the dream changed through the year. Even if the one you’re living now is the unimaginable future the two of you imagined up at seventeen. But one thing was sure. Jared wasn’t part of that. Wilbur was.

Wilbur easily finds himself a new normal at home. The trip giving him a refreshed sense of hope. A plan in the making. His daily routine now including watching you all hours of the day. Not just your streams any longer. Every single second he can wrench out of those cameras.

And suddenly his friendship seems to improve with you too. Because now he can see when you’re sad and in need of a friend. He reaches out at the perfect time. Abusing your vulnerable state. Because it’s the best to do. It’s for the betterment of your future.

The more Wilbur is there for you, the more he resents Jared. He deserved to be in your bed, not that asshole. He deserves to reap the rewards of his hard labour. He is the one that has always been there because Wilbur has always stayed.

A simple click is all it takes for Wilbur and the item has been placed in a cart. Mere keystrokes and it has been paid. A single click and Wilbur has truly gone insane, as a packet is shipped off. A packet containing a bottle of sleeping pills.

The next time you invite Wilbur down, you barely recognise him as you open the door. Eyebags so deep you’ve never seen before. His entire body slightly twitching, and that manic smile on his lips. Wilbur brushes your concerns off, claiming that’s just what happens in real workplaces. Not that you would know anything about that.

Wilbur hates the feeling of insulting you, but you had barely responded the entire week. You deserved to suffer for a moment. Before he caves and apologises for being rude. That’s the moment you can see the resembles of his normal being as he hangs his shoulders.

Jared comes over that night. Just as Wilbur had planned. And this time he won’t hesitate. He even bought a bigger car for this.

Wilbur offers to mix the drinks, claiming to have learnt a new recipe. Which isn’t a lie, he has learned how to perfect just the right cocktail thick enough that covers the chalky residue of the pills. And sweet enough to make the bitter taste disappear.

He serves them, keeping a watchful eye as the night drags on, and Jared never seems to shut up. But Wilbur can deal with it for one night. Just for one. And then he won’t ever have to worry about Jared again.

He serves another.

And then another drink.

And finally. Finally. You’re starting to get tired. Slowly leaning against Wilbur. And he takes pride in that. Great pride. You didn’t choose to lean against Jared, you’re leaning against Wilbur.

Wilbur sits still until Jared too is starting to fall asleep. Wilbur is ecstatic.

He gets up slowly, gently laying you down, a pillow underneath your face. A blanket over you. He kisses your forehead and smells your hair. Taking in the shampoo scent still lingering.

Then Wilbur gets moving, he has stuff to do. Plans to execute after all.

He does his best to get Jared’s left arm over his shoulders. But their awkward height difference makes it difficult, but he can make it work. It has to work. He only gets one shot.

Wilbur gets the front door open before he realises a fatal flaw in his plan. He has to drag Jared down 3 floors worth of stairs. He realises he can’t do it the way he is now. He has to drag him down by his armpits instead.

It takes him the first flight of stairs to realise Jared shoes are making too much noise. He has to abandon them, Wilbur awkwardly gets Jared leaned against the wall before he removes Jared’s polished black shoes. Wilbur leaves them there, making a mental note to remember them when he comes back.

The rest of the stairs, while difficult and definitely breathtaking for someone who has no muscle strength. He makes it work. Wilbur actually makes it work.

He made it work. It worked. Oh god. It’s working.

Wilbur repositions Jared once more, his arm once again over Wilbur’s shoulders. The night sky greeting him as he steps out of the apartment complex. With great difficulty, Wilbur gets the two of them over to his car, where he throws open the trunk. In the proceed shaking the car, setting off the car alarm. Wilbur is quick to drop Jared as he fumbles after his car keys. It takes him nearly a full minute to turn off the car alarm.

Wilbur curses under his breath.

Annoyed with the time loss. He finally gets the knocked-out Jared into his trunk, and he shuts it again. Just as a front door in the apartment complex opens. A man steps out. He raises a hand to Wilbur, before pulling out a smoke.

Wilbur shuffles on his feet before raising a hand. And then awkwardly gets into his car.

Okay. Okay. Okay.

He has a body in his trunk. Now he just has to get to the harbour. Wilbur starts the car and starts the ride to the harbour a town over.

Half an hour has gone past when Wilbur is pulling the handbrake, and taking the keys out. He’s quick to get out, and even quicker to get to Jared. Wilbur keeps thinking about you. Your smile. Your kindness. Your voice. Your beauty. Your grace. As his hands are securing zip ties around the wrists and ankles of an unconscious man.

He has to go.

Wilbur reminds himself.

A cloth is tied around Jared’s filthy mouth, and then Wilbur is back to dragging him. It’s both easier and harder. Easier before he’s just dragging him across the pebbles and over to the brink of the harbour. Both of his arms are under both of Jared’s.

But it’s harder because if someone sees him it’s going to get difficult to explain. But nobody does. As far as Wilbur is aware.

So a splash is made by a body, and Jared is unceremoniously sinking to the bottom of the ocean floor.

Wilbur takes one more breath of fresh air. Before turning around and getting back into his new car.

He’s quick to arrive at your apartment complex. The man was no longer there. Wilbur goes to grip the front door. It doesn’t bulge.

Oh yeah, it’s locked.

He fishes the copy he made of your house key from his keychain and lets himself into the building he doesn’t live in. An invited guest, that has turned out to be an uninvited one.

He can feel the tiredness setting in his bones, as he ascends the stairs. And the realisation that he just killed someone hasn’t dawned on him yet. Instead, all his muscles are aching, and his eyes barely staying open.

He stumbles into your apartment. Another kiss gets left on your forehead as he goes for your bed. The smell is so nice. It’s so obvious to him this is where you sleep. And he’s soaking in each moment until his eyes are giving out.

His night remaining dreamless, instead, he gets awoken rather rudely around noon. You’ve pulled the comforter off him and told him to get up, so the two of you can spend some timeacting together. and Wilbur happily does that.

Not at all acing like a man who purposely took another person’s life mere hours ago. You rush him to get into his clothes. As you have something planned for rest of the day out of the apartment. You’re talking his ears off as you descend the first flight stairs your personal puppy in tow.

When you stop dead in your tracks. Wilbur nearly stumbles into you.

“Will, is that Jared’s shoes?”

And right there is in fact Jared’s shoes. The pair Wilbur had forgotten all about. The pair he had left unintentionally.

“Are you sure about that? Thought he already left.” Wilbur lies, he may be awkward, but he has gotten pretty good at lying to you through the years.

“Yeah yeah, you’re right. Why would he leave his shoes?”

The question gets left unanswered, and the tension is thick until you get outside, and the sun is shining. It seems it knows too of how good this day is for Wilbur, a dawn of a new era. Where you will finally acknowledge him as the perfect one for you.

The man from the nightstand once again with a smoke and raises his hand to greet Wilbur, once again Wilbur shuffles on his feet before he raises a hand back. You look at him weirdly, and Wilbur shrugs it off.

The rest of the day happening without any mishaps or other incidents. But the shoes just can’t seem to leave your mind, despite how hard Wilbur is trying to distract you.

And then the afternoon passes, and the night, and the car ride, and Wilbur is once again home. And as soon as the door closes. He crumbles down on the floor.

Oh god.

He did it.

He actually fucking did it.

He isn’t useless.

He’s fucking Wilbur, and Wilbur stays in your life. Even when you make such stupid mistakes as falling for another person. There’s only one person for you and that’s him.

You’re actually the first one to call him this time, and the smile never leaves his lips. Even if the call is about Jared. And how worried you are about not having heard from him. Wilbur just tells you; you should have listened to him. Guys on the internet are just like that. And that you deserve better. Someone like him.

You laugh at this and thank him for calming you down.

Wilbur suddenly loves phone calls.

This bliss is perfect for Wilbur you’re talking to him more and more. And he watches, god he watches you. Every step you take in that apartment is filmed logged on his computer.

However, all good things must come to an end, and Wilbur has barely pulled off his tie after work when a group of loud knocks sounds at his door. He isn’t expecting guests.

A group of men in blue uniforms greets him.

“Wilbur Soot, you’re under the arrest for the Murder of Jared Yarrow.”

Wilbur barely registers what’s going on, before he’s in a holding cell. A psych evaluation under his belt. A phone call to his father asking him to help him out.

The days bleed together in the unchanging environment, and suddenly a defender is telling him to plead for insanity.

Then the defender comes back again days later with a court date, and all Wilbur can do is count the seconds.

Time for the first time since arriving slows down when the doors to the court open and Wilbur is lead into the courtroom. And there you are, looking beautiful as ever. Tears and despair clearly written on your face. You look away from him, and it makes him stumble for a moment. A quick look to the other side, confirms his fear. His father is here. Alongside his brothers.

The trial goes over what happened that night, the evidence, the sleeping medication, the car. Everything. Yet even when his sentence is received, even when he is told he won’t see the sun again for a long time. There is only one thing on his mind.

They never found the cameras.

And he just can’t help but smile at that as he’s getting lead away to rot.

Because Wilbur has always stayed by your side, Wilbur always stays. -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

[astrologyandlife]

29° and 0° in astrology

the 29th and 0 degrees are said to be "critical" degrees in astrology, meaning that anything sitting in these degrees have a special influence on its expression and impact on the rest of the chart. so, i thought it would be a good idea to explore these two degrees and what they could mean for you guys!

part i: the 29th degree

the 29th degree is the very last degree of any zodiac sign. it is said to be the anaretic degree. here, the most difficult challenges related to the placement in question are presented, as everything else has been mastered. there is also a sense of inevitability with this placement. this is often marked by a turning point in the individual’s life.

sun – the ego and identity are strong, but there could be external circumstances that don’t allow the individual to express themselves in a completely authentic or transparent way. they must reconcile who they are inside with how they act. at times, they feel like an imposter, or like they are selling out to others. they know who they are, but do other people? this feeling that something is physically blocking them from existing impacts every action they take. they must figure out what is holding them back from complete self-expression and give themselves permission to be themselves in spite of this.

moon – this is where the most complex, desolate emotions a person can feel lie—the kinds of emotions that make you think nobody could possibly understand your experience. as a result, there is a profound sense of isolation and a difficulty integrating their emotional experiences into their self-expression. this only increases the intensity of the emotions, creating many situations of turbulence. sometimes the individual ends up completely blocking their emotions off to cope. only by facing their emotions head-on can they assuage these feelings and achieve a balanced state.

mercury – there is a tendency to get stuck in vicious cycles involving self-doubt and overthinking here. as a result, they sabotage their own efforts to make good decisions and communicate clearly. even a genius can make a fool out of himself. there can be this issue where they overthink sometimes and don’t think enough other times. they have this nagging feeling that they are missing some piece of information that is undiscovered or concealed from them. the final lesson is to trust the knowledge and experience they have to make the right decision.

venus – a profound sense of loneliness is pervasive throughout their life, as though every relationship they could have now would be empty and devoid of true connection. it’s entirely possible for these individuals to have trust issues, fall into unhealthy patterns in their relationships, and avoid intimacy. perhaps there is a part of themselves who feels they are unlovable in some way, or there is this one thing wrong with them, which they must forgive completely, the same way they would forgive and love another person.

mars – a desperation to act conflicts with a lack of confidence in their capability to do so. often this leads to them being frozen in the headlights like a deer, thinking, I have to do something but what if it’s wrong? the balance between too much and too little is blurred, leading to inconsistency and turbulence in their lives. they often end up in situations where they are forced to make snap decisions. re-calibrating their approach to conflict and matching their energy to the situation will relieve this problem.

jupiter – without thinking, these individuals over-indulge and rely on their luck and natural talents in some way. they want more of something, and it’s almost as though there is no satisfaction through receiving it. there is both a sense of hollowness and complacency that permeates as a result, and they forget how to materialize success through their own efforts. to remedy this, they must seek out growth, exploration, and expansion in its purest sense, to open their minds to a higher being or knowledge.

saturn – restrictive patterns are almost always the issue here. these individuals deprive them of something in their lives, not allowing even a moment of pleasure or reprieve from the overwhelming sense of responsibility they feel. external circumstances, especially in early life, have placed an undue burden on them, in some cases leading them to do anything to escape any responsibility placed on them later in life. to fix this, they have to let go of the guilt and fear they feel to give themselves back their agency.

uranus – how can they move forward? where is there to go that hasn’t been gone to before? in the same way that the sun in this degree struggles to find true authenticity in this liminal space, so too do these individuals struggle to find progression. somewhere they got stuck and stopped embracing their own unique qualities, which has made it impossible for them to then accept anything else. the final turning point here is to open their mind completely, to embrace entirely the open possibilities of the world.

neptune — this is the deepest recesses of this planet, where material reality as we know it does not even exist. at its most extreme, these individuals find it hard to live in this world because reality is simply too harsh for them in some way. escapism exists in its most extreme form, and the subconscious is too influential. and so, they need to escape themselves. here, the power has been given to a force that is not the individual, but rather something external to them. the task is to give this power back to the conscious individual, to escape the dream they have created for themselves and return to reality.

pluto — here, the complete death has occurred for the person. they have experienced the transformation, the change, and the end of the cycle. perhaps they have experienced in many times in their life. but the last stage hasn’t occurred yet. they become stuck before the rebirth stage, unable to complete the process. thus, the same situation happens over and over, re-opening wounds. the final turning point is to accept the change and open themselves up completely to renewal, to move on for good. lay it to rest.

part ii: the 0 degree

in contrast, the 0 degree is the very first degree of any zodiac sign. this is where the traits of the sign are most clearly and cohesively expressed, and also where there is the most to learn. you express this placement in a very raw, almost untouched way.

aries – there is a childlike innocence and naivete here, as well as an exaggerated impatience and sense of urgency. they feel that there is no time to wait. strong desire to be first and be a leader, even if they don’t know how to be one. there’s almost like a reckless quality to them. extremely assertive to a point of being hostile when others tell them what to do.

taurus – they are stubborn and fixed to the point of being unable to budge. it’s essentially impossible to stop the momentum once they’ve started, and they’re in it for the long haul. they can get stuck in their thinking and behavior patterns, doing the same thing over and over. absolutely must have stability and security in situations or they won’t commit.

gemini – absolutely no tolerance for boredom or lack of activity. they have to be doing something at all times, and often more than one thing. they’re extremely scattered. their curiosity drives them and they’re always asking questions or trying to learn more. they are constantly taking in information and changing their mind, never able to “settle.”

cancer – sensitive and emotional to the point where they can’t hide their feelings. here, there is someone who is very shy, cautious, and puts a protective shell around themselves. they have an intuition that is spot-on. very needy and moody. plays the role of caregiver and can be seen as a motherly figure. empathy is turned up all the way.

leo – they are completely self-focused and wants to be the center of attention. they want people’s eyes on them at all times, and they know how to light up a room. natural actors and tend toward being extremely dramatic. there is a sense of complete confidence in their abilities and pride in themselves. they refuse to settle for less than what they believe they deserve.

virgo – devoted to the service of others, typically in the form of providing feedback, criticism, and a helping hand. very critical and vocal about imperfections. they have an eye for detail that is unmatched. any form of disorganization or chaos is distressing to them, and they have highly specific routines and rituals. mind is constantly running to analyze and process information.

libra – cannot be alone whatsoever, and they are constantly seeking out connections with others. they are a complete pushover and seek out compromise in every situation. there is a desire to always seem agreeable and likeable. they often find themselves mediating for others, and there is an extreme need for harmony and balance. indecisive to the point of being paralyzed/hurt.

scorpio – the most private you’ll ever meet, and it’s impossible to get information out of them. feels the need to keep everything to themselves. has tons of secrets. they are super obsessive and will latch on to things quickly. needs control or to feel powerful in any situation. constantly on the defensive and trying to psychoanalyze the situation.

sagittarius – have an attitude of “it will all work out, don’t worry” even when they should be worrying. it’s impossible to tie down or get them to settle, because they have an intense need for freedom at all times. blindly faithful and optimistic. have a tendency to do things completely spontaneously. can feel claustrophobic when unable to freely act.

capricorn – absolutely rooted in tradition, even to the point of being narrow-minded. they constantly have to be going after success or achievement. the sense of responsibility is always present, which can lead to feelings of guilt or failure. an old soul from the beginning. a sense of “I have to get this right and prove myself” in anything they do.

aquarius – always has to be moving forward and making progress. extreme quirks are very possible here. highly open-minded and non-judgmental, and almost nothing surprises/shocks them. a savant, genius, or revolutionary. always at odds with figures of authority or traditionalists. a humanitarian to the extreme. they are ahead of their time.

pisces – hyper-sensitive to subtle influences and can be very spiritual or superstitious as a result. there’s an ever-present need to escape in some way, and they usually and have vivid imagination/rich fantasies. there can be a sense of directionlessness or shapelessness. the ultimate chameleon.

sun - feels the need for validation of who they are from others, projects a ton of confidence that they may not really have, very performative and forthright in expression. moon - often blindsided by their emotions, has difficulty realizing their needs and wants, less polished about handling their feelings. mercury - always curious and wants to know more, may present as a know-it-all or assert authority over topics, venus - loves the newness of relationships, craves connection and romance, wants to be well-liked by others, rejection is hard for them. mars - always in "go" mode, lots of energy and motivation, can be quick to anger or rile up, ends up in dangerous situations a lot. saturn - inherently assumes responsibility, has to learn lessons multiple times, tries to be disciplined and fails often. jupiter - lots of faith and optimism, definitely naive at heart, open to new experiences and chances for growth. uranus - has a lot of small quirks, open-minded and progressive, has a mindset of wanting to keep moving forward. neptune - rich imagination and a love for fantasy, feels directionless or like the possibilities are endless. pluto - may struggle with changes or transformations, lots of growth ahead of them, a strong presence that is very raw.

finally, i'd like to link some resources for further reading:

· https://www.astro.com/astrology/aa_article190801_e.htm (my favorite--super in-depth and peer-reviewed/published!)

· https://advanced-astrology.com/anaretic-degree/

· https://www.astrologyweekly.com/blog/29-degrees-the-anaretic-degree/

[chironshorseass]

hello yes i’m OBSESSED with your writing so if you’re still taking prompts maybe “please look at me” bc i also have an unhealthy relationship with pre-tlo percabeth angst and live for pining percy

SYD U GAVE ME THIS AND I JUST HAD TO PUT ALL MY PROMPTS ASIDE!!! because how could i not!!!

for what i wrote, i kind of mention this clarisse one-shot.

anyway enjoy <3, since I sort of went crazy with percy being powerful :) like i always do :) and of course, pre-tlo percabeth :)

read on ao3

The waves had grown restless these past few days. Violent, brutal. The night was quiet, the moon hidden beneath darkened clouds, drenching the camp in heavy ink. Percy knew many demigods proclaimed it as the quiet before the storm. They couldn’t have been more wrong.

All he heard was noise.

He’d been like this—unsteady, overwhelmed—for some time, now. Everywhere he went, he felt like a ship sailing into giant waves, water crashing against his deck, threatening to bring him under.

Grover would’ve understood, maybe. But Grover, like the moon, had vanished. That only left a few of his other friends—and of course—Annabeth.

Percy couldn’t avoid her gaze, no matter how much he wanted to. She was always there, watching. Maybe she awaited the day when he’d sink to the power of those waves that plagued the beach, that plagued him. Maybe she anticipated with bated breath on the day when he’d turn sixteen and he’d have to make one decision that would change everything.

Nevertheless, she’d drift away from him. Then come back, again and again.

It drove him crazy, how much their relationship had changed with the times and circumstances. Only now, Annabeth wasn’t what bothered him.

His gut was.

It tightened and loosened, the same way the currents flowed to the rhythm of his rushing blood. He could hear that now, too.

His blood. The sea. The clashes against rock.

Everything was beating to a powerful symphony of drums.

But worst of all was his gut.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

Percy knew there was a war. He had nightmares about it, in fact. Nightmares leading to frantic waking-ups from the feeling of lava burning into his skin. But he hadn’t sensed the war’s presence so strongly in all his three years of attending camp as he did now—and he felt it, because the source of conflict had to do with the sea.

The shadows of cabin three clung to his skin in a comfortable blanket, but he couldn’t ignore this dread. It had trickled patiently into his system for a week now, culminating to this exact moment. He couldn’t sit still. He had to leave. Now.

Not long after stumbling outside while shoving his armor on did he hear the conch horn ringing as a warning. The lookouts had seen something. His legs moved faster.

Doors of other cabins began to smash open, and with it came the spilling of panicked campers. He was already way ahead of them, though.

“To the beach!” someone cried.

Percy arrived just in time to see Chiron assemble with Michael Yew and Austin Lake. The sons of Apollo. They’d apparently been the ones on night duty. The centaur saw Percy before the others made out his heavy footfalls.

“Percy,” Chiron said. “Thank the gods you’re here.”

“There’s something,” he gasped, doubling over once he’d reached them. “There’s something out there,” he finally managed to say, gulping mouthfuls of air. “The sea.”

They already knew, however. The conchorns were signal enough. But what was more obvious was the glimpse of the giant tail, jutting out of the water like a spear cutting through flesh.

The breath he’d managed to find from his mad dash was stolen away at the sight of the monster.

“Yeah,” Austin said, swallowing. “There’s something out there, alright.”

Chiron eyed Percy warily. “My boy. We are dealing here with something I fear that you are only capable of stopping.”

“Yeah, well...it looks like a pretty big fish. I—”

A howl punctured the atmosphere—probably the same sea monster he’d seen earlier. Percy gasped, feeling a stabbing jolt in his stomach. He didn’t know why this sudden change of the sea was affecting him so, but he had to stay strong. So he stood up straight and concentrated on his breathing.

“Are you alright?” Austin asked, studying him.

Percy looked at Chiron, who met his eyes as well. You have to be, his teacher seemed to say.

“I...I think so.”

Michael chose the moment to turn his back on the sea, blowing the conchorn once more. He shouted at the incoming campers, “Greek fire! We need Greek fire!”

The rest of the multitude showed up right away, Hephaestus kids priming canons while others exchanged weaponry. Through all of it, Percy’s gut became a pressure cooker, a fist closing around glass, about to break. He cried out in agony just as a tidal wave shook the world. Falling to his knees, his arms encircled his middle, muffling that pain. He wanted nothing but to make it stop.

He vaguely heard a sound of surprise, coming from someone nearby, then the rush of hands holding onto his shoulders. They helped somewhat, a comfort to the madness.

The hands were warm and soothing. The voice of the person became clearer. He knew that voice. He knew those hands.

Annabeth appeared in his vision, all worry lines and pinched eyebrows. She said something to him again, but the words might’ve been ghosts; the stampeding blood behind his ears was too thunderous to make out anything else.

He closed his eyes and concentrated like he had earlier.

Sharp as a blade, his senses switched to the outside world.

“Are—are you okay?” Annabeth was saying. “You doubled over, and I…”

“No.” He opened his eyes to meet hers. They matched the storm that raged across the sea. “I—I’m not okay. I need to stop this, I need—”

“We were just discussing strategy,” she said. He was glad for the distraction she’d offered. “The Scolopendra isn’t just any ordinary sea monster.”

“The Scolo what?”

She helped him stand up, steadying him with her arms.

“The Scolopendra,” she repeated. “A child of Keto. It’s one of the biggest sea monsters in existence, and it won’t leave the camp border.”

“No shit.”

Annabeth ignored him, glancing backwards at where the monster had last been seen. “There’s no telling what it can do. There’s barely any recordings of it.” She swiveled back to him. “Chiron says that it can control the tide. It might be capable of drowning the camp if we don’t kill it.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“I told Chiron that we needed to try my strategy first. As in, bombing it with Greek fire before we go with the last approach.”

“And what would that last approach be?”

He had some idea, but before Annabeth could speak, the creature shot out of the water, faster than lightning. He only caught a glimpse of the crayfish-like tail and rows of webbed feet before it disappeared again.

“That looks like a giant shrimp,” he declared.

A giant shrimp that was probably capable of crushing a decently-sized trireme. Shrimpzilla, he was about to call it, as a way to lighten the mood. But he thought better of it, once he saw the hard line of Annabeth’s lips as she watched the campers rev up the Greek fire.

The Scolopendra dared to peek out of the waves for the third time, giving the chance for Beckendorf to yell out an order. Instantly, canyons discharged the green substance directly towards the monster.

It roared defiantly, maybe in pain, maybe in anger. No one was sure, because as soon as the night sky lit up with green flames, the Scolopendra crashed against the water like a wrecking ball. For a moment, all was silent.

No one dared breathe.

Annabeth squeezed Percy’s shoulder. She looked hopeful, as if relieved that she didn’t have to go with the second plan.

Chiron’s tail twitched. Beckendorf held out a hand, urging the campers to wait. Some stood anticipatedly, swords ready. He saw Clarisse in the front line, her electric spear aimed at the sea and crackling with energy.

Percy sensed what was about to happen next before he heard it.

“Annabeth,” he said frantically. “Annabeth, we have to go. Now.”

“What? But—”

“NOW!”

He’d already separated himself from her, yelling at the rest of the campers to leave. They didn’t have the chance; milliseconds later, the Scolopendra appeared. It bellowed with the power of a thousand hurricanes. Many campers covered their ears.

To everyone’s horror, it had closed in on the shore, its back legs likely reaching the sand floor as it rose to its full, terrifying height. Lightning crackled, and with it, came another roar.

“No,” he muttered. “No, everyone get out!”

Too late. The monster had already spit out a million gallons’ worth of salt water.

Instinctively, Percy let out a yell and threw his hands out.

The water halted in midair, rippling like a broken mirror. It was as if time had slowed down, as if Kronos himself had been the one to interfere. But Kronos wasn’t interfering. It was all Percy—with nothing but his willpower. A bead of sweat rolled down from his temple.

Annabeth reached him just as he cried out and threw the water back to the sea with everything he had, forcing the giant shrimp to hide as well.

He caught his breath while Annabeth looked back and forth. From him to the sea, from the sea to him.

She shook her head at no one in particular. “The plan didn’t work.”

“No shit.”

Then she gazed at him again. “Thank you for doing that, Perce.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “No problem.”

“About the second plan...”

“I have to kill it, don’t I?”

“I...maybe. But we can help—”

“It isn’t a maybe. It is a certainty,” a voice said, strong and firm.

They both turned around.

“Chiron,” Annabeth said. “How can he possibly—”

“He’s the only one capable,” the horseman said. “You know that better than most.”

Her eyes flicked to Percy. Memories flashed through his mind. A quick, burning kiss. A promise. Then, the way fire engulfed him. The call of the sea. An explosion, strong enough to wake one of the most dangerous monsters of all.

When the bombard was over, he understood. He had to face this monster alone, like he had with the telkhines.

“Okay,” he finally said.

“Okay, what?”

Chiron nodded at him, ignoring Annabeth’s question. Without glancing back, he retreated to where the rest of the demigods were watching by the sand dunes as a precaution.

“I need to face him alone,” Percy told her, once Chiron was gone.

“No! Percy, that thing is bigger than—”

“I’m the only one that can’t drown, Annabeth!” He grasped her shoulders so that she was looking directly at him. “If anyone can do it, it’s me.”

“Don’t think I can’t see what’s going on with you,” she said, voice bitter and rough. “You’re distant, like, like the ocean is—”

“We’re both growing distant, ‘Beth. That’s not the problem right now.”

She pushed his hands away. “And that’s not what I’m talking about, and you fucking know that!”

Before he could reply, the monster's call came again. A reminder that this night wasn’t over.

“Please. Just trust me on this, Annabeth. I have to try. It’s our last option. You said so yourself: it may be capable of drowning the entire camp.”

She said nothing, not even sparing him a glance.

“And—and I don’t know why I’m like this! Maybe it’s because I can feel the ocean getting agitated, or because the war is getting worse, or—”

He realized it, then. Annabeth's tears. They were silent rivers, flowing gently down her cheeks and into her mouth. Flowing down to where everything ended up, to the sea.

“Hey,” he said, approaching her slowly. He took both of her hands in his, but she repelled away from his touch. “Please, ‘Beth.”

This time, he cupped her damp cheek, moving it in his direction. “Please look at me.”

And when she finally obliged, her gaze was fractured with glistening tears, like diamonds.

“I can’t lose you again,” she whispered.

Percy had yearned for too long; he let go of that rope tugging him in the opposite direction and instead let Annabeth in. They melted into each other, both shamelessly giving away the little warmth they preserved. It was the kind of hug that felt like a lifeline, the kind that made them both sway like the tide.

“I missed you,” he mumbled into her curls.

She held him tighter. “I missed you, too.”

“But I have to fight this one myself.”

Annabeth pulled away slightly—and when he saw the look on her face—he knew that she knew.

-

“HEY, SHRIMPZILLA!”

The Scolopendra reared its head, even uglier up close. Its nostrils flared with hairs, beady eyes staring down at him. When he charged, the monster bellowed and threw itself in the water, sending sprays taller than a house.

But none of it touched Percy.

He didn’t stop running, a plan in mind. Meanwhile, the sea churned around him in one giant mass of power, but it parted with each step he took, forming a trail of now exposed ocean floor. Water collided with the sky, flying with the salt in the air.

Hello, friend, it seemed to say. Or rather, hum. The sea was a song, and he was just there to dance to its melody.

The Scolopendra had disappeared again.

He didn’t look back, though he knew the entire camp was there, watching—maybe in awe, but he didn’t care enough to find out. He kept walking, alone, surrounded by a pool of green and blue. Was this how Moses felt, In those stories he’d heard? Bricks of ocean water, flinging up into the sky, just so that Percy could pass. The feeling distracted him from the objective.

That’s what he’d argue later, because Percy can’t explain how the monster managed to sneak up to him that easily.

The pool of green seemed endless. There was a moment where nothing moved, not even the water. But then something did tug him violently, up, up into the sky.

For a second, he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t scream out, the breath stolen from his lungs and the icy rush of air when flung into the sky nauseating. The only feeling he knew was of the Scolopendra and its death grip on his entire body.

With each second, the roiling waters grew farther and farther away. The Scolopendra’s growl, however, couldn’t have sounded closer. Sharp claws sank into his chest and arms. If he didn’t react now, he’d be eaten before the next flash of lightning struck the sea.

Somehow, he managed to uncap Riptide.

And with a scream, he stabbed, as hard as he could.

-

“Hey. Want company?” A soft voice said.

He craned his neck around.

Annabeth subconsciously made the world easier to look at. Especially now, as she stood behind him in the pier with the last vestiges of harsh sun striking her back. Her stance was stiff, hesitant. He understood why.

So instead his eyes bored into his lap. He shrugged.

That was a sign enough for her. She crouched next to him, pulling her legs under herself and then flinging them out to where the wooden planks ended and the open air began, toes nearly kissing the placid lake.

She sat next to him, quiet as the wind. It took a few seconds or minutes or hours before she decided to speak.

“I’m sorry.”

From his peripheral vision, he could tell that she’d been studying him instead of watching the reflection of herons flying above the water. Something he’d thought she’d been doing. Apparently not.

It also took him seconds or minutes or hours before he could respond.

“What for?”

She exhaled, “Letting you go alone. Being a part of the campers who…”

She didn’t finish that sentence. He knew why.

Being a part of the campers who abandoned you alone after what you did.

“S’okay. I get it.”

A lie. He didn’t get it.

“Doesn’t make it right.”

He stared at his hands. “Guess not.”

The details of the fight were yet to go away. The memories were still fresh—like his mother’s batch of cookies whenever he came home from camp. Teeth were ever-present in his mind. And those webbed hands. Those twisted sounds as a monster choked on its own blood.

Afterward, everyone had taken a step back. Even Annabeth and Chiron seemed to contemplate him as though he were doomed. Maybe he was.

“I wish Grover were here.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth sighed. She kicked her leg up, swatting at some mosquitos. “Me too.”

“He’d pull our shit together, fix everything.” He found himself sounding wistful, longing for a missing piece of himself all of a sudden.

She didn’t reply to that. They both missed their best friend. Now, more than ever. Percy tried to not dwell too much on the fact that Grover hadn’t responded to his Iris Messages or to his calls from their shared empathy link.

“I’m sorry.”

“You already said that.”

“No, Percy. I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“Just look at me.”

He did the opposite, gazing at the trees to his left. They were a deep, mystical green. The colors looked like the ocean, where he’d displayed his powers for everyone to see. Worst mistake of his life. He realized that tears had begun to form in his eyes; he quickly blinked them away.

“Percy,” Annabeth insisted.

Her tone wasn’t hash or demanding—but rather, a light pink sky. A hand brushing his, sweet and tender. He noticed that it wasn’t just his imagination; glancing down, he found her fingers ghosting against his knuckles.

“Please look at me.”

This was eerily familiar. It hit him, then, that he’d said those exact words when she’d panicked about him going alone to fight the Scolopendra.

Hesitantly, his eyes focused on her face. Her freckles were there, golden like the rest of her. Only now, her eyes were rimmed with tears.

Something changed inside them both. She stared at him, he stared at her. Her face contorted, and the both broke down, crumbling like ruins with the slightest gust.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, clinging to his shirt.

“Me too,” he murmured back.

He held unto her as if she were a life force, breathing in her lemony scent. Tears were exchanged, mingling in the other’s hair. They held each other, an embrace that didn’t deserve to end. It only made him cry harder, while Annabeth held him closer.

“Why are you sorry?”

He couldn’t say it out loud.

I’m sorry for why we’re like this. I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m sorry for leaving.

Instead, he pulled away. He studied her, every single feature, from those grey eyes and that upturned nose to those curls that no longer appeared to look like a princess.’ They were just Annabeth’s.

“I scared you,” he said.

His arms loosened around her, just now realizing how long they’d hugged, but their hands stayed interlocked—like some sort of middle ground.

She regarded him, eyebrows furrowed. “I can’t ever be scared of you,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’re my best friend, Perce.”

He looked away. “Everyone else was.”

“I should have gone to you after—I just...I thought you were angry at me.”

Their hands separated. “Why would I be angry at you?”

“Because I let you handle all of it alone. The monster, the campers—”

“‘Beth.” He took her hands again, cupping them with his. “I couldn’t ever be angry at you.”

“That’s not true,” she said wryly.

An observation, not an accusation. Still, that didn’t make it hurt any less. He recalled the shouting, the fights. The only thing they looked for in those moments was to hurt the other, twist and pull at any chink in the armor they could find.

She winced, remembering that, too. “Sorry.”

His mouth twitched. “You’ve said ‘sorry’ too many times. It’s getting repetitive.”

She hit his shoulder playfully. “Well, I mean it.”

He didn’t retort anything back. They found peace in this lake, once again gazing at the horizon.

“It’s not true what you said, either,” he said, his mind lingering on what she’d told him earlier. “You’re scared, as well.”

The sound of the incoming crickets carried on in Annabeth’s hesitation.

That is, until she said, “I am. Scared. I’m scared.” He glanced over. She was staring in his direction, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Neither did I.”

She laughed, breathless. “See that’s what scares me. What else can you do? Honestly?”

He shrugged, turning away from her.

“How’d you do that, anyway?”

“I defeated it, didn’t I?” It was better to deflect than to answer her question.

Defeating the monster should’ve been what mattered, anyway.

“Percy.”

“Annabeth,” he said, in the same condescending tone.

“All I’m saying is that you could hurt yourself. You don’t know what you’re capable of. And then when your birthday happens—”

“You think I’m going to destroy Olympus or something?” He shook his head. “I should’ve known that you’d side with the gods on that, too. You think that they should kill me?”

“What? Percy, I’d never—”

He whirled, facing her, and finally let go of all those pent-up thoughts that just like the sea, wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Just admit it, Annabeth! Admit that it freaked you out that I blood bended or whatever the fuck Chiron called it! Admit, that it freaked you out how I killed that monster! That I’m fucking cursed!”

“Percy Jackson, you are not—”

“Yes, I am. Why would my dad give me powers like that? Huh? Just say it with me: you’re scared—of me.”

Her eyes were red, face hard as stone. Just like her voice when she said, “Look. I just wanted to help. But if you want to sit in your self pity, then go for it! You clearly don’t need me.”

She made no move to leave, however.

Their eyes held, until the anger from both of them melted. He huffed out a breath, shoulders hunching. “We can’t ever stop fighting, can we?”

She sighed.

“Guess not.”

“I won’t do that again.”

She lifted her chin. “Why?”

“Like you said. Scared you.”

That made her purse her lips.

“You’re not cursed, Percy. You know that, right?”

She reached for his hand. It was becoming a strange routine. Finding comfort in hand holding and then dismantling it as if it never happened.

“You’re mostly right all the time, so.” He squeezed her hand. “I s’pose I’m not cursed, then.”

“I’m right most of the time?” she said, eyes twinkling.

“Okay, fine,” he conceded. “You’re right only sometimes.”

She opened her mouth in mock-offense. “Percy Jackson—”

He cut her off with his laugh, a laugh that fit with the music of the crickets. She rolled her eyes, something that he’d missed achingly, now that he saw her do it for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Scooting closer, she nudged him. “I could help you. Alongside Clarisse.”

His eyes widened. “You knew about that?”

“She’s my friend, too.”

“Of course she is,” he muttered.

Him and Clarisse...they might’ve had a rocky relationship when he’d first arrived at camp, but now, he didn’t know what he’d do without her help—without her friendship. They both understood the other in a bizzare, not very common way. She’d helped him hone in his powers, but it had yet to be something he’d wanted to admit to Annabeth. To everyone else, for that matter.

“I get why you didn’t want to tell me,” she said. “But...I do want to help. You’re my best friend, and, and I also want to spend time with you. If...that’s alright.”

“It’s alright by me.”

Annabeth gave him a look.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He tried for a smile. “I guess you could come along, then.”

His grin was shared with her, though her eyes were serious. “You’ll see. We’ll figure out your powers. What you can do, why you can do it, why the sea is affecting you…”

“All of it?”

She nodded. “All of it.”

They left it at that, though what they didn’t leave was the canoe pier. Not until the sun hid under the trees, spilling its ink of reds and oranges across the horizon.

The golden of the sun was replaced by the silver of the moon for the night, then it rose again for the day.

And in between, the waves lapped against the shore, constant and content. The ocean had calmed. For now.

[aspoonofsugar]

Wizards: “I can fix It”

Douxie’s catchphrase is “I can fix it” and I think it conveys an important theme (if not the main theme) of the spinoff series.

This is because this same concept appears over and over throughout the series, even if sometimes the words used are different:

These are just some of the occurrences where the motif of fixing/breaking appears. Let’s see what it means and how it is linked to what is probably the main theme of the whole franchise:

DOUXIE AND MERLIN: REDEMPTION FROM A SCORNED MENTOR

Douxie’s obsession with making things right has to do with his wish to win Merlin’s approval. He feels he has been failing for 900 years and he wants to finally prove to his mentor and father figure that he has grown. He can make things right now.

This is why the plot literally starts with Douxie failing to bring everyone to safety and ending up lost in time with the others. Since then, he has been trying to fix things. This idea evolves in not only going back to the future he left, but also into making a better future:

Douxie and the others try to fix the relationship between Morgana and Arthur, but this ends badly since not only Morgana dies, but also Excalibur is broken.

Douxie tries to fix things, to make them better, but the result is that Excalibur (aka the only weapon which can be used against Gunmar) is broken.

Here, we are introduced to a statement, which is the opposite of Douxie’s motto:

It is not by chance that Merlin is the one stating this because throughout the series he comes to embody this line of thought. Merlin never tries to fix what is broken if it means other things might get lost. He never risks anything to make things truly better, but fights to keep things from degenerating. For example, he loses Morgana, but does not try to save her. What he does is to try not to lose Douxie as well. In the time travel section, Merlin’s objective is not to make history better, but to make sure things go as they should. This means some things are lost, but also others are gained and safe.

This kind of behaviour works to keep the world balanced, but it does not solve the main conflict to the point that 900 years later things are still like they used to be in the past. The Order is still trying to destroy humanity. Morgana and Arthur are still not at peace. The world still needs a trollhunter and so on.

This is why it is symbolic that Merlin does not fix Excalibur, but Douxie does:

And he does so by doing things his way and not Merlin’s.

The time travel arc is solved because Douxie and Merlin work together. Merlin’s struggle to preserve history and Douxie’s one to make it better balance each other out and in the end they succeed in saving the future they all know.

That said, the difference in POVs between Merlin and Douxie is still there and it manifests when discussing Jim’s fate.

Merlin wants to sacrifice Jim for the greater good, but Douxie refuses and comes up with a plan to win everything. He wants to fix things completely and not to lose anything. The result is that he loses everything:

Merlin dies and Douxie is once again confronted with what his mentor told him in Camelot:

Some things just can’t be fixed and the fact that loss is gonna happen must be accepted. It is something at the root of life itself. Who refuses this truth is bound to stay a prisoner of the past.

ARTHUR AND THE ORDER: “OUR REDEMPTION”

Arthur talks about redemption twice, but the meaning behind the word changes each time. The first time, Arthur wants to find redemption by reconciling with his sister. The second time, he wants to destroy the world to make things right.

This is important for two reasons.

a) “Redemption” is just another word for “fixing it”. A redemption happens when a person makes a mistake and then fixes his mistake. This is why Douxie himself wants a “redemption from a scorned mentor”.

Douxie and Arthur even have an important scene where they discuss this topic:

In there Douxie inspires Arthur not to give up just because he made mistakes. He should instead try to make things right.

b) The different kinds of “redemption” the king mentions show the danger of embracing the mentality of “making things right” to an unhealthy degree:

After all, the Order and Arthur’s objective is “to fix the world”, but in order to do so they are ready to destroy humanity.

Why is their mentality wrong? Shouldn’t the idea of “fixing things” be a noble one? Sure, it might be difficult to succeed, but generally the attempt of mending a mistake is considered as positive, isn’t it?

The antagonists show that this is not always the case. As a matter of fact the will “to fix all mistakes” can lead to extreme standpoints and to a refusal to embrace change.

This is made clear by both Arthur and the Order.

When it comes to the Order, they are trying to bring the world back to how it used to be. Still, they refuse that things have changed and that they can’t go back. This is why they are symbolically trapped in a time loop first:

And then in an infinite series of doors:

It is because they refuse to go on.

The same can be said about Arthur:

He could never overcome the loss of his beloved and  ended up stuck in the past and unable to accept the future with its contradictions. This is why it is meaningful that he is killed by the remnants of Camelot (something broken, which can’t be fixed) and that he is told by Morgana that times have changed:

Let’s once again highlight here his foiling with Douxie. As a matter of fact Douxie too must accept the death of a loved one:

He is even symbolically asked to “break Merlin’s staff” to progress in his mission. Here, breaking the staff is functional to the plot, but it is also symbolic of Douxie’s grief and of him breaking free of his idea that he has to fix everything. Like Merlin said, not everything can be fixed.

Interestingly, Arthur’s grief is commented by the breaking/fixing motif as well. As a matter of fact Excalibur breaks when Morgana dies. In that situation, the sword breaking is symbolic of Arthur’s own heart and character breaking. He is supposed to be the chosen one, but he gave himself up to hate and lost everything:

Merlin: “I will repair Excalibur and perhaps mend out shattered hearts.”

In the past, Arthur is given a chance to fix his mistakes. Excalibur is fixed and he bonds with the trolls he had persecuted. However, in the end he becomes too broken to be fixed once again and he dies as a prisoner of his own shadows. All because he can’t accept his losses and his mistakes.

WIZARDS MAKE NO MISTAKES, HE MAKES UNEXPECTED POSSIBILITIES

So, not everything can be fixed, but at the same time it is necessary to try to make things better. How can one do so? The answer is given to us by Merlin.

Mistakes must be seen as new possibilities. Sometimes bad things happen, but they can still change a person’s life for the better, if the person is able to keep an open mind.

If the person keeps going, if they keep becoming they can embrace possibilities, which just were not there.

This is why it is not necessary to fix everything in the sense of bringing everything as it was. It is impossible and it is wrong. What a person can do is to make things better in a new way.

This is how Douxie tricks the Order:

The Heart of Avalon is not there anymore, which means they can’t go back in time to fix it. However, fragments of it are still there and they can be used to make something new:

I personally loved how the time-loop trick worked because it builds on what happened in D’Aja vu, when magic and technology were combined. It was a nice idea and very symbolic of what these two worlds (which are clearly linked) can obtain when they integrate.

In the end, Douxie does not fix everything. He gives the Seals away to save Nari and the others. The Order is still around waiting for their chance to strike. However, he still saved his friends.

The same can be said about the major subplots of the season. In the end Morgana and Arthur’s relationship was impossible to mendle. However, she still mendles her relationship with Merlin:

Moreover, Claire manages to save Jim. Not only that, but Jim comes back as a human. Even in that case, though, the trollhunter amulet is broken.

Still, this does not mean that everything is lost, but that there is room for new possibilities:

Being it Jim or someone else, a new hero will probably answer Excalibur’s call and end the conflict. Another person will keep on becoming.

MAGIC IS THE ART OF LIVING

This brings us to how the spinoff explores the idea of becoming, like the rest of the franchise does.

This idea is presented at the very beginning of the series, when Douxie is told by Merlin this:

Magic is the art of living and living is different than simply existing. Living means existing in an active way.

It means to make good use of the chances you are given:

It means not to run away from who you are:

You can and must do it both if you are “remarkable”:

And if you are “nobody”:

This is because it does not matter who you are in present, but who you can become:

Once again the foiling between Douxie and Arthur brings the point home.

Arthur is the chosen one, while Douxie is nobody:

Still, Arthur is the series main antagonist, while Douxie is the main hero. This is because they have decided to become different people:

This is also why “every life is precious”. It is because every individual can become something amazing:

Still, to do so, they must accept change, face fear and find a place of belonging:

[sassooda]

Worlds Away JJK AU / Chapter 37 - Destined for Greatness

w/c - 7,731

               Suguru has been lying in bed for hours now as his mind wanders through his past and imagines different scenarios for the future. He sighs as he tosses and turns for the thousandth time, facing away from his door while his gaze takes to his new quarters that are viewable from this angle. This is by far the cheeriest room he has ever called his own. The walls are a warm yellow, the floors of solid hardened red clay and all of the matching furniture a light wood. His eyes take to the closed curtains with long thick white drapes, ‘This is so fucking annoying…’, he mumbles knowing there’s not even a window behind it, there’s no way for there to be when you’re underground. Sitting up now with aggravation, he reaches over to the bedside table and places the bowl of water he was using the night before, back into his lap. He wants to check in on Elska’s surroundings although he knows other Titers are tasked with the enemy’s usual surveillance. Before activating his technique though, he hesitates due to anxiety, ‘What the fuck am I going to do when we take her? What the fuck will she do?’. He hears footsteps approaching his door and knows Genghis must have already finished with most of the arrangements.

               “Little one! Time to wake up!”. Genghis calls out in an eager voice. He stops and smiles when he sees that Getou is already awake and asks, “Aren’t you excited about today?”. He looks over the worrisome Suguru who’s vexation is transparent. The golden sheets drape along his body and slide from his bare skin whenever he moves under them.

               Getou grumbles and turns his head, “I don’t think what I’m feeling is excitement…”. He keeps looking at the curtains that hide lies while wondering if he’s much different. ‘Will I have to subdue her when she lashes out? Am I going to have to hurt her when she resists?’. He’s had no qualms with doing so in the past but feels an incredible amount of pressure regarding it now. ‘Could we…like each other?’.

               Genghis chuckles and ignores Suguru’s reluctant attitude while looking around the room, “This is definitely much more suitable! Did you really put in a request for a giant tub though?” He’s poking fun at his pupil but he was also puzzled by that. Genghis thinks the brighter room will serve them both well psychologically. ‘Not too shabby for being done at the last minute.’.

               Embarrassed by the question, Getou submerges deeper into his bad mood and bed before retorting, “It’s for me. I’m tall.”. He was certainly not about to admit that it was for Elska, thinking she really must love them judging by how insane Naoya acted about it when the Zenin originally designed the first room where she was held. Suguru is aware that her reaction may be hostile overall and is dreading these coming days because of it so he hopes having one may ease her nerves. He doesn’t know that tub is Naoya’s thing.

               Genghis isn’t really satisfied with that answer but continues on, “I’ve gathered the most adept offensive fighters we have to offer.” Knowing the Titer’s abilities are incredible but lack in the area of traditional combat, selecting the most capable available would be crucial. “I believe you’ll quite enjoy my plan…”. His teeth show in this smile now, he’s more than willing to share his enthusiasm.

               Suguru finally turns to his mentor, interested. “Do tell me what you’ve concocted.”.

               Genghis lights up, “So as we were discussing, we need to restrict their actions. We will make our move in a public setting but you’ll still be able to have your fun...we will have to harm innocents but I assume that’s not what troubles you.” He grins maniacally, “Mr. Satoru Gojo’s presence will be requested before the Elders here in a few and his curiosity will assure he attends.”. Genghis sighs, “I was worried Gojo might want to kill all of them but I brought in two special people to mediate our fictitious ambitions.”. He chuckles, “The silver shaman has no idea what’s in store for him.”.

               Getou smirks at the thought of Gojo having the rug pulled from beneath him, “So we’re planning on having to deal with Toji, Zenin and Choso…aside from her today?” Genghis nods to his question but a heaviness forms in Suguru’s chest when he thinks about having to kill Choso. He’s still not on board with that completely and figures he’ll try his best to protect the hybrid in the midst of confusion. ‘Not him too.”. Getou wishes to find a way to bring the hybrid back to his side.

               Genghis claps his hands, causing his yellow robes to flutter, “You better get up and get ready! I’m about to meet with our team. I believe your first sweetheart will be amongst them.”, he chuckles for the drama but honestly loathes that woman.

               “Lidia?”, Getou stiffens immediately as that did not help his motivation. “She’s fucking crazy Master Genghis, I don’t want to be anywhere near her!”. Suguru takes his head to his hands as a few memories of her dependency and inhumane behavior flood him. ‘Psychotic bitch.’. Lidia always chased after Suguru when they were younger and at some point this wore on him as before he knew it, she was claiming them to be betrothed. She was obsessed with his destiny, his calling for the clan and would worship him in the most toxic ways due to it. Her need to be the only one in Getou’s life caused her to mutilate young women amongst Suguru’s outer circle out of spite and jealousy. Their time together did not last long as it quickly became a violent pairing, ending with him crushing her ribs under his usual technique. Suguru sighs, “She’s is not going to help me obtain another woman…”. He shudders recalling how after healing, she was back to throwing herself at him as if nothing happened. ‘Fucking…crazy…’.

               Genghis hides his sneer, knowing full and well the history of the two. “On the contrary, she requested this assignment.”. He notices Suguru’s growing frustration and wishes he could explain exactly why he’s doing what he’s doing but instead says, “I’ve seen many outcomes for this and although they may have varied, I can assure you Lidia will serve a great purpose here.”. Little does Getou know, Lidia will be the proof offered to show Elska she will be cared for while in the Titer compound.

               Suguru is skeptical to believe this and shows it through his expression as he rises from the bed and says, “Women are the bane of my existence…”. He stretches in his black briefs and cracks his neck while thinking something foreboding was eating at him. ‘I’m probably going to have to expose my other techniques now.’.

               “You’re about to receive the most powerful wife in the world…and yet, you complain.”, Genghis teases as he’d probably be nervous too if the roles were reversed. He watches Suguru don a black robe, clearly showing signs of stress so he walks up to him and puts his jokes aside, “This is going to work out, little one, one way or another.”, and pulls Getou’s head down to plant a fatherly kiss to the top of it. After sharing the rare moment, he bows and leaves Suguru to his morning routine.

               Getou watches him quietly walk out of the room with conflicting emotions. Genghis is the only man he’s ever looked up to, the only other human that ever offered genuine affection. Ever since Suguru was reunited with his mentor though, something has felt off or perhaps he’s just seems more purposeful. He’s not sure if this odd feeling is because of his own unstable emotions that threatened to derail his purpose of revenge or if there’s another reason but he can’t ignore it either way. He trusts that his mentor is still worthy of his respect and recognition though and finds his returning welcomed regardless. ‘All of those years…’, he wonders where Genghis spent his time and exactly why. ‘Did they really keep him away to simply foster my hatred for Gojo?’. He knows that doesn’t really make sense.

               Genghis is turning a hall leading to stairs to take him upward. He sees two of the recruited Titers waiting for him outside of the designated meeting area at the top, smiles and nears them. The first one he shakes hands with is Sain Khun. The 32-year-old Titer was a remarkable martial artists and hunter. His rare eyes are more grey than blue and stand in contrast to his long black hair that he wears down. Sain is one of the handful of Titers that learned to channel their metaphysical natured abilities into to combative techniques but usually stays out of the political fray of the clan. ‘A fine young man.”. Before he’s able to address the handsome Titer, the second of the pairing cuts in.

               “Master Genghis, I have more questions about this woman.”. Lidia shamelessly exudes her opinion of the situation and demands attention. She receives a sharp look from the clan’s head that only fuels her suspicions. “Are we certain she’s the best pairing for Master Getou?”.

               “Miss Lidia, you look lovely today…”, Genghis takes her hand and kisses it, ignoring her inquires. He continues to smile until she speaks up again. ‘She never ceases.’.

               “Can we trust that her intentions for Master Getou are ones we can stand by?”. Lidia shakes her long curly red hair that dances down her arms. Her green eyes narrowed still, she waits for an answer. “She’s not even human. What if she uses her powers to manipulate his biology as well?”. Her foot taps impatiently against the now softer ground, ‘I’ll fucking kill that bitch if she even looks at him wrong!’.

               Genghis has already grown tired of catering to Lidia’s neediness in the short time they’ve come to know each other but understands she’s vital. “And what of your own intentions?”, he confidently questions her as he doesn’t need an answer. He already knows and is glad to see her heart hasn’t wavered from its possessive ways.

               Sain feels forced as this greet was supposed to be simple. He cares not of Lidia’s unhealthy interest for Suguru and even with his instincts crying against Genghis, feels badly for the man. He decides to enter the conversation in hopes to shut it down. “Lusting Lidia, it’s time to get on with the meeting.”, and grabs her arm, leading her through the door where the rest of the selected wait.

               Genghis takes a moment to center himself, ‘I understand your resentment little one…’. This quick exchange between them wasn’t the worst he’s suffered from the woman but he still cannot stand to be around her. He chuckles and whispers to himself, “But if she were any less obsessed, this wouldn’t work.”, and then enters the room with the rest as they lay out their plans.

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

               Elska is looking around at the busy street as they occasionally bump into passing people. “My prince, are you sure it’s around here?” She’s never been to this part of the city before and is feeling anxious by the crowd. The sun is out but a chilling breeze catches them every so often. Her mind is heavy and plagued with questions but doesn’t want to dampen Naoya’s mission for the day.

               Naoya stops near the edge of the wide sidewalk and pulls out his phone, “I’m positive!”, while checking the map to make sure he could stand by those words. ‘Where is it?’. His brow creases as he studies the screen.

               Toji huffs, “We’ve been walking forever.” He’s abnormally agitated but also hates crowds and is pinning the fault on being dragged out into one. He looks at Elska who’s eyes happen to meet his and feels his tension release ever so slightly as the wind blows her black V-cut dress along her knees. All of them are dressed up more than usual since Naoya begged for them to eat at one of his favorite restaurants. He sees Elska eyeing him in a way that foretells she finds his black pants and squeezing button up suiting and it makes him feel like he could deal with the clothed restriction for a while longer.

               “It says we’re close!”, Naoya points to the map on his phone pridefully. It’s been a few years since he was on this side of the city and a lot has changed. He’s becoming frustrated with not knowing how much time they’ll have before Gojo returns, wanting to enjoy some normalcy. ‘I just want to treat her to nice meal!’ He turns to Elska and takes her hand, “Baby, I promise it will be worth it. I’m talking…food fit for a princess.”, when she giggles, he does too, being happy to see that she isn’t wanting to turn around. He looks to Toji now, “Want me to find you a walker?”, and snickers as the giant narrows his eyes before continuing ahead.

               Elska feels Naoya’s finger lace into hers as they resume walking, with Toji on her left. She’s trying to be cheerful today, wanting to appreciate the time she’s spending with them but her mind keeps leading her into thought. The night before, Toji stopped her from feeding and although she was aware of why and understood the risks Satoru spoke about, she tried to proceed anyway. There were a weird few minutes where she could only focus on drinking from her beloved and flailed wildly as he restrained her. ‘Why did it feel like I wanted the Titer energy too?’. She thinks to hold Toji’s hand as well in this moment but stops herself as she doesn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to the three of them. ‘He looked so concerned all while I couldn’t even stop…”. The ancestral voice advised her to feed. Her heart aches as she knows this was out of character and extremely selfish when they didn’t know how it could affect her. The one thing keeping her afloat in this matter is how Toji held her after she snapped out it, how he seemed to understand without saying that she didn’t mean to.

               Toji lets Naoya and Elska get a step ahead of him so he can keep his eyes on her. After their last outing, he’s remaining highly aware of their surroundings and is watching for anything suspicious. He sees Naoya in his dark grey slacks and black dress shirt, leaning down to talk to her as they maneuver through the groups of families and friends, keeping her close. ‘Is she really, ok?’. Toji recalls how she struggled against him the night before. Gojo tried to rush to the bed after seeing her reaction but Toji was also wanting to shield her from him. Her eyes changed, showing the dashes of his green while she clawed at his arms and flashed her fangs with a glare. Toji knew that wasn’t his Elska but didn’t want to make her apprehensive, so he hid her the best he could from Satoru until they reverted. He heard something from within while this was all occurring, a voice that he swears communicated for him to feed his master. ‘Is that even possible? What the fuck was that?’. He rubs his bicep after feeling a sharp pain run through his arm.

               Naoya leads them to a building that has loud club music playing inside, the base being noticeable from where they stand. He looks up and scrunches his face, “What the fuck is this?”. He checks his watch that bares 1:39 and is further confused by the daytime club scene. ‘I’ve failed.’. Toji can be heard groaning so he orients himself to face them both, “It was right here!!”. He takes in Elska’s kind smile as she’s clearly not going to make him feel bad for being wrong. Not knowing what to do to save their lunch adventure he stands there awkwardly to think but hears Elska say, “Well let’s enjoy a drink while we look up somewhere else nearby!”. He smiles at her ability to always find a silver lining and follows behind her up the ramp that leads inside.

               As they walk through the room on the first floor, Toji feels this intense wave wash over him. Music is drowning out most other sounds but the way the bass pulses through him allows him to feel alive. The stench of cigarettes, sweat and alcohol sting his senses while they find a seat at the bar. Once sitting, he can smell Elska’s perfume when she whips her hair behind her shoulders, exposing her neck to which causes him to stir in the stool. Naoya hands out drink menus from them all but Toji doesn’t even look at it, knowing his order already and wanting it immediately. He feels ready to pounce but is cautiously calming himself as he knows this is not the place, ‘I am NOT Gojo…’. When she crosses her legs he feels the sting in his arm again, bringing his mood back to a wavering position.

               “I’m thinking a red…’, Elska states loud enough to be heard while looking over the wine menu. Naoya smiles to her words as he announces his choice of Mojito. “That’s why you’re so sweet!”, she jokes vaguely in regards to his actual taste. She places a hand on Toji’s right knee before turning to him and feels him jump. Her voice now concerned, “Did I scare you!?”. She giggles until she sees the intensity in his eyes, wondering why he’s exuding so much right then. Her breath was held in her throat as she waited for his eyes to glow, knowing that would not be good for where they are. They never do though and she eventually resumes respiration as he places his own large hand over hers. ‘What was that?’. She now swivels her head around the large room, taking in all of the day drinkers on the dance floor and seated randomly about.

               The bartender takes their orders with a smile and begins to serve them up right there. He recommended a red for Elska that he swears was his personal favorite and proudly waited for the approving sip. When she stated its palatability, he then left to attend other customers while Toji stared him down menacingly. ‘That’s a brave man to be flirting right in front of us.’.

               Naoya sips his drink while eyeing Toji chug his whiskey on the rocks. “Slow down old man, we still have to go somewhere to eat!”, he laughs at the eyeroll he receives and notices Elska drinking pretty quickly as well. “Baby, what’s on your mind?”, he knows something is bothering her and wonders if they’re both just nervous after the last Titer attack. ‘Maybe I can convince her to dance it away!’, he thinks as he imagines himself twirling her under the disco ball. He just wants her to have a good day.

               After finshing her glass already, she sets it down and tells Naoya, “I’m fine, I promise! I just really have to pee!”. He chuckles and adjusts himself so she has more room to slide off the stool. She announces that she’ll be right back before searching the walls for signs indicating the direction she should take. A drunken man bumps into her shortly after leaving the bar and can feel Toji increase his presence so she turns around to show that she’s fine. The whole room was lively except for Toji’s motionless staring. ‘I better be fast before he loses his shit.’.

               “She shouldn’t be alone.” Toji followed her with his eyes as she turned a corner down a hall. He’s worried about her and has this familiar unyielding need to be in her vicinity. It’s almost as if he knows something is about to happen. “I’m going to wait for her, watch the drinks.”. He hears Naoya protest with grief but faces him and says, “Boy, why don’t you find us a place to eat since we’re out here because of you.”, and places a hand on Naoya’s shoulder as he goes to walk past to counter the aggression in his voice. “Order another round too will ya?”.

               Elska stands up in the stall and flushes but doesn’t leave. She’s feeling like Toji’s eyes were trying to tell her something minutes ago but she can’t figure it out. All she knows is that it was sexy. She opens the latched door to wash and dry her hands but takes in her reflection in the mirror and thinks, ‘Life is so much crazier now…’, but smiles to herself knowing she had fantastic support from everyone. The door pushes open abruptly behind her and she gasps in startlement before realizing that it was Toji himself. “TOJI! What if there are others in here?!”. She can tell by his focus though that it didn’t matter anyway.

               “Doll…” he mutters as he locks the door behind him. He sees that she was caught off guard when she asks what he was doing in there but he just walks closer until he’s inches away. “I need…”, he lifts her up so she can wrap her legs around his waist and supports her weight with his right arm. “I need you.”, he whispers while dragging the tip of his nose along her collar bone, watching her skin change pigment from his glowing eyes. Her hands are roaming through his hair and he moans to the sensation of her nails against his scalp. “Right now.”. He nearly growls as he sinks her into his groin from above.

               “Toji…”, she was right about his prior intensity but can’t find it in her heart to stop him as he begins kissing the crook of her neck. The music can be heard through the walls along with idle chatter and it all serves as a reminder for where they’re at. She thinks of her pheromones and instantly pulls herself out of their beautiful trance. She whispers, “We shouldn’t do this here, my beloved.”, and frowns as he lifts his head to meet eyes. “I can’t release them here, it’ll be a disaster…”.

               He agrees that they shouldn’t have sex and nods with a grunt but that’s not truly what brought him in lady’s room to begin with. Feeling his fangs form he shows them to her and happily takes in her reaction as she smiles and moves her hair while saying, “Oh! ok…but we have to be quick!”. He squeezes her cheek with his right hand that supporting her rear and drags his teeth across the skin of her neck. “I just need to taste you.”, he wantonly groans before biting down. She gasps to his intrusion and grips his hair as he begins to suckle. His own whimpers could be heard between his gulps, loving every drop he’s being given as he deciphers her soul and feelings. Her flavor, now that he’s not as overloaded by the information, is reminiscent of the aroma born from a field of flowers. Each time he swallows more of her blood, his overall restlessness fades while her squirming increases.

               Elska cradles his head into her while melting in the master’s ecstasy flowing through her. Her eyes are closed as she bites her lip and attempts to muffle her sounds. “My beloved…”, she whimpers to him while her fingers stroke through his hair. His hypertonicity dwindles as she feels his left hand travel up her back, resting a grip on the nape of her neck. “I love you, my beloved Toji…”, and gasps in desperation as she can sense his own, wanting to assure him of his importance. Those same fingers now dance along her clavicle as he brings them over the wounds to close them while panting into her neck. He leaves his face buried there, adorning the area with his lips slowly as he she can tell he’s gathering himself. “Do you feel better?” She caresses his temple and cheek hoping that he did, feeling terrible that she didn’t recognize or even sense his disposition sooner. When he lifts his head to look at her again, she feels the need to lock her lips to his as they both exhale in a gratified union. She moves the hair out of his eyes and kisses his forehead before he gently puts her back down, him looking refreshed with a bashful grin.

               He grabs a paper towel from the dispenser and wets it. In the mirror he can see Elska’s loving eyes watching him and the scar on the corner of his lips bends pleasantly. While wiping away any evidence, he shyly adds, “I love you too, doll.”, the words still seeming unreal. After discarding the bloodied paper towel, he takes up her hands in his own, “I’m sorry for following you in here, I just…I really needed to do that.”. He’s still uneasy by how compelling the desire was. “I felt like I wouldn’t get another chance.”. He sees the concern on her face and doesn’t want to worry her, “It was just time for me to feed doll, everything is ok.”. Her hand sails upwards to hold his cheek and leans into it. ‘I have to keep her safe.’.

               Naoya is watching the condensation accumulate on his glass and is now feeling nervous as he checks his watch again. ‘Where are they?!’, he swings around in the stool to check the room and feels an incredible wave of relief as he finds Toji and Elska making their way back to the bar. After they sit he asks, “Did you guys go to the bathroom at the dorms or what?”, but picks up on the weird laughs he receives from them. ‘He wouldn’t have tried something sly, would he?’, and squints his eyes at Toji. ‘He looks way better though.’, and decides to let it go as he’s sure even a quickie couldn’t be that quick. “Baby…”, Naoya slides his phone over in front of them as he finishes his second Mojito, “I’ve only been here once but they have beautiful seating along the water!”. He cackles, “…and it’s only about half a mile away by foot…”.

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

               Gojo is quickly walking through the whited-out halls with Choso following. He speaks without looking, “Choso, when we get in there…I have to warn you, you’re not expected.”. Gojo heard Choso stop in place so he turns around to see him. “You’re with me though so it’s fine! If they say anything to you, just ignore them. I will do the talking.”, and waves for the being to hurry.

               “I…I don’t understand why I’m here with you and not everyone else…”. Choso is familiar with the Elders but can’t ignore the fact that he used to work for them where as he’s now on the opposing side. ‘Is this a good idea?’. He was expecting Gojo to sulk and whine to being called in today and is puzzled by how thrilled he seems.

               Gojo jumps up to click his heels to the side before saying, “I don’t trust these cunts and I’m almost positive this is a trap of some sort…”. He notices Choso’s eyes widen with confusion so he continues, “If they’re trying to distract me from Elska, they fail if you’re there using your technique to watch her for me!”, his smug grin appears, “This way I’ll know the moment something happens.”. He’s sure the Elders have called him away in order to create an opportunity but has a mind to flip their plans upside down with this small act of rebellion. “I can never remember where to go! This shit all looks the same…it’s creepy.”.

               Choso sighs but tries to keep up with Gojo’s quickened pace. The bright lighting overhead is blinding and causing him discomfort as he prefers darker places. He doesn’t know what to make of Gojo’s explanation but figures he’s along for the ride at this point anyways. “Do you think they’d even admit to what they’re doing?”. Choso understands the amount of secrecy the surrounds the Elder’s goals and is sure that he’s not even fully aware of their intentions.

               “Yes. I will make sure they do.”, Satoru’s words are eerie but his expression is still delighted. “These fuckers have messed with us for long enough. They’re cowards, Choso and the things they want to do to my love are unacceptable.”.  Gojo is certain that none of the others would have condoned what he’s thinking he’ll have to do which is why he said nothing before leaving. “They need to leave her alone and how can I call myself the strongest if I can’t protect her from these witless skin bags?”. Satoru at least wanted to inform Nanami of his meeting but hasn’t been able to reach the fellow shaman yet. ‘Did they get to him too?’. Gojo is certain that something happened with Shoko but was waiting to see how things played out. ‘As long as she’s fine, I know she can handle it.’, but worries about Nanami’s reaction if he’s already discovered this too.

               ‘What is he going to do?’, Choso feels like something big is about to happen, something that cannot be taken back. The unnerving pressure in his gut hints that whatever it is, it’s not good. “Itadori and the others are still on standby but isn’t it odd that they haven’t been given any missions?”. They pass more rooms before Satoru finally stops. Choso watches the silver shaman’s expression change to lethally cold one before straightening himself with resolve, and knows he should do the same. ‘I guess I have to just trust him…’, the thought not sitting comfortably at all.

               Gojo quietly speaks, “Remember, don’t mind them, they’re not worth the stress. You do not serve them any longer.”, and places a reassuring hand on the hybrids shoulder. He’s impressed when he looks over the being, seeing that his previous nervousness has been cast away and replaced by a collected ensemble. ‘I’m pretty sure I’m right about him.’, and feels poised in the dark nature that lurks beneath Choso’s kindness. Turning back to the door, Gojo kicks it open fiercely before entering. “WHAT’S UP FUCKERS?!”.

               Three people sit along one side of a long white table, seeming prepared aside from the sudden commotion. The first is a representative of the Kamo clan, a new middle-aged face Satoru has never seen draped in dark red robes. The second is a Zenin, the bought errand man known better as “Peaches” for a less known reason. Gojo knew him rather well from his childhood and all of the clan events he was forced to attend. The third, however, catches Satoru by complete surprise and angers him. The woman sitting as a representative for his own clan is none other than his mother.

               Gojo seethes with white knuckled fists, “What the fuck are you doing here?”, as old anguish resurfaces between the two. Satoru hasn’t been home in years and purposefully. He was sure if he stayed any longer, he’d annihilate his own family.

               The Kamo rep scoffs, “Yes… well hello to you too Satoru Gojo. We could ask you the same.” He points to Choso, “Isn’t that Kamo property?”. The hybrid and Gojo fail to give him the time of day, causing tension.

               Gojo never takes his eyes off of his mother while waiting in silence as Choso dutifully ignores them. His eyes darken, “I asked you a fucking question you miserable old whore.”. He feels the urge to gather a technique but calms himself with his better judgement.

               His mother speaks, “That is no way to talk to the woman who raised you!”, she laughs in a haughty way but brings her dramatics to a close, “Why else would I be here? You can’t be left to just do whatever you please…”. She tilts her nose up and displays her notion that she is untouchable.

               Peaches shifts in his chair, “You have something that needs to be returned to the Zenin’s. Master Naoya was promised her hand.”. He’s honestly terrified of Gojo but would never allow this to show. Satoru darts stormy eyes in his direction and he feels a chill race down his spine.

               “Let’s just be frank about it. You want Elska.”. Gojo voice is calm, almost lighthearted. He brings his gaze back to his mother, feeling a little better about the situation knowing he’s going to handle more business than he expected today. “Choso, please start now.”. Gojo doesn’t have to look since he can feel Choso’s energy gathering to form the window. He watches the representatives lean to figure out what the hybrid is up to and laughs out loud. “My friend here”, He scowls at the Kamo man, “is going to observe Elska while we meet.”. He winks to Peaches, “She’s with Naoya right now for your information…Toji too.”.

               Gojo’s mother bursts into hyaena laughter, threatening to rupture the unsuspecting eardrums of the others. “You think you have it all figured out, don’t you? Such a pitiful child.”. Her long white hair waves in the air as she jerks her head to see Peaches’s perplexed expression. “Don’t believe him just because he speaks it…trust me…”, and folds her arms while thinking of how many more beatings her son should have to experience when younger.

               Peaches clears his throat and tries to save face, “Surely this is some kind of joke. Master Naoya loathes your very existence Satoru.”. He’s now chuckling to himself having felt it was a test of some sort, “Are we not on better terms than that of your games?”. He’s now sure it was a lie.

               Gojo regrets that Peaches is here today but is unable to overlook the fact that the old goat is in cahoots with this situation. ‘It can’t be helped!’. He turns to Choso now for the first time since they walked into the room and is reassured that nothing bad is happening. Now facing Peaches again, “You know… Zenin and I got off on the wrong foot.” He grins, “But now we have threesomes!”, loving the shock that plasters everyone’s face. The Kamo man choked on his own saliva to the mention. Gojo looks at his mother, “Don’t be upset just because no one wants to fuck you. It can’t be helped when your cunt leaks venom.”.

               Choso sits motionlessly as he listens to the meeting unfold, completely flabbergasted by Satoru’s way of speaking. ‘What did his mother do to him to make him hate her so much?’, he hesitates to explore the options in his mind as he can only imagine. Aside from that though, Choso has never witnessed such a display of blatant disrespect to the higher ups and is completely unnerved by the silver shamans ever changing composure. ‘What is he planning to do?’, the ominous feelings he’s experiencing from this are only growing at this point.

               Peaches is red with embarrassment, “HE WOULD NEVER DO THAT!”, and allows his anger on the matter to spill over. The representative huffs relentlessly to the accusations and feels disgraced for his ears being exposed to such vile talk. When expecting to see an angry Gojo, he’s further confused by the smile that meets him instead.

               Gojo runs his finger along the table as he casually saunters in front of each of them. “If you three decide to get rowdy…I’ll have to kill you.”. He basks in the glares and especially enjoys his mother’s fear as she knew he was not playing around. Once they become settled he says to her, “You being here makes you my enemy, mommy. How long have you been involved?”. She starts to swat his question away with a scoff but everyone leaps out of their skin when Satoru yells, “HOW FUCKING LONG?!”. He increases his presence tenfold and watches the representatives writhe in distress before him.

               She says nothing.

               The Kamo rep is sweating bullets as he’s only heard the tales of horrors committed at the hand of Gojo. ‘Genghis said nothing about this hostility.”, he thinks to himself as he comprehends that he’s bitten off more than he could chew. He’s afraid to peel his eyes away from the powerful shaman making inquiring demands but also wants to flee the room. ‘This guy is even crazier in person!’.

               Gojo takes a deep breath and exhales dramatically, “Well…this is going nowhere…”, and summons energy into his hand as he aims it at the Kamo representative. The nameless man cries out in fear and studders in his breathing. Gojo notices Choso jump to his feet but the being doesn’t say anything. Only when the defeated female voice utters, “3 years.”, does he quell his attack. He thinks about that answer for a moment before acknowledging her again. ‘That’s strange.’. Looming across from her he now asks, “I’d already had my love for some time before that, why did you join them to conspire against me at that point? Don’t make me blow this poor guy’s skull open…”, he warns of his lack of patience.

               His mother sulks in her seat having her hands tied about the questioning, “I thought she was a passing infatuation at first, like all of the others but you completely neglected your responsibilities of being an heir because of that wretch.” She’s met with unforgiving eyes and wishes she was able to smack the audacity out of him but has learned the hard way about his response to abuse. “She is not yours Satoru and you jeopardize the entire balance of the clans with your actions of keeping her.”.  Out of the corner of her eye she sees Peaches nod in support and feels reaffirmed by it.

               Gojo slips a wild laugh and slaps the table, “She is mine though. I voyaged worlds away to find her. I went to incredible lengths to bring her back…”, he sighs while resting his hands on his hips. “You do know, mom, these Titers that have you in their pocket…they were going to use her to assassinate me.”. The atmosphere of the room deteriorates at the mention of the Titer clan. Its obvious that they were left unaware to Gojo having knowledge of the group’s silent partner.

               His mother jumps from her seat and screams, “AND THEY SHOULD HAVE SUCCEEDED!”. All of the hatred she’s ever felt for her son sears the air around them, her chest feeling lighter for the honesty but heavier for the fear. “You were destined for greatness but even with your gifts, something is wrong with you! How you ever came out of me? I will never know…”. She feels she must stand her ground or else the structure they’ve served their entire lives will crumble. “You’re evil. You always have been.”.

               Choso is still watching Naoya, Toji and Elska but can’t help but be distracted by the darkness exuding Gojo. ‘What is going on here?’, he doesn’t understand how this is official business and even finds himself feeling defensive over Satoru. ‘That woman is appalling.’, he thinks as he considers Gojo’s upbringing and decides there’s more to the man than he ever considered. He looks back to the window after surmising that none of the representatives would attack. Choso becomes rattled when the window shows Toji drinking from Elska in a cramped bathroom, ‘I can’t believe the lighting permits this, it must be dim.’, He temporarily becomes fixated with Toji’s fangs anchored into her as she quietly moans. He’s not seen anyone but her feed before. ‘So, his bite feels good to her as well?’. He brushes his lap as if to tell it, “Knock it off”, but his attention is soon stolen by Peaches’s mention of Elska.

               “If you don’t return Elska Oda then this will be seen as an act of aggression Satoru, please…don’t do thi-…” Peaches can no longer speak as Gojo grips hit throat and is thrown into a fit of fright.

               “I kind of liked you…I was use to you at least…but if you ask me that one more time, I will break your fucking neck.” Gojo feels his face twitch as he squeezes the old man’s beard into his throat, “You guys are fucking with me today and I don’t appreciate it.”. Never letting go, he turns to his mother but also glances at the petrified Kamo rep, “I do not give a single flying fuck about the clans, I couldn’t care less of your archaic ways and I am never going to surrender my Elska.”. As Peaches reaches a critical point of needing air, Gojo clamps his fingers deeper, “I left my love’s side today to be here because of your guys’ little fucking Titer friends. That is what we will discuss.”.

               Gojo’s mother rushes to pull her son’s hand away but right as she’s reaching out, Satoru releases Peaches. She watches the old man heave and choke uncontrollably and shoots hateful eyes. “How dare you lay a hand on him? Do you fear nothing?”, she thinks to threaten with her husband but knows that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree so it’s likely useless.

               Satoru smirks while studying Peaches inability to regain his breath, “I crushed his trachea a bit, he’s going to need medical attention soon.”. He watches the Kamo man stand up in disbelief and warns, “My mother is right about one thing, I do not fear you or your influence.”, and smiles approvingly as the man takes his seat again hesitantly.

               “You psychotic little freak!”, his mother cries out in disgust, “We need to get him to a doctor!”. She feels herself fill with anxiety as she was not expecting him to go this far. “Let us take him!”.

               Satoru hisses quietly, “If you guys weren’t so dead set in dicking me around then this wouldn’t have happened. No one leaves until I get some answers.”. He strolls around the table, loving how terrified the Kamo representative became when he was close. He yanks up the suffocating Peaches and throws him back into his chair, “Have some fucking dignity…I thought better of you.”. When Peaches makes eye contact, he can see the dread wash over the man, knowing their dynamic has changed forever.

               The Kamo man speaks up sheepishly, “Wh…What is it that you want to know?”. He’s all for handing over the required information as he clearly cares about his life more than the others. Satoru’s expression softens as the other two representatives hang their mouths open, not expecting him to fold so easily. Gojo states, “Everything.”, which causes the rep to tense up as he doesn’t know where to begin. He hastily blurts out, “Suguru Getou inherited ancient techniques as well. The Titers are planning on taking the girl for themselves to ensure their supremacy.” He inhales sharply, “The head of their clan met his end by the hands of your company, they want to repay by being rid of you as you are their final target. You’re still too strong because of your infinity, so the girl’s fate was determined the moment you were born.”.

               “You… weak imbecile…”, Gojo’s mother retaliates to the sensitive information by pushing Peaches backwards causing him to fall to the ground and thrash violently. Without so much as a second thought, she gathers energy into her hand and expels it at the Kamo man’s mouth. The representative dons his own matching blood as his brain matter exits the back of his head, decorating the white surroundings behind him. Only a cavernous jagged hole remains where the words escaped him only seconds prior. His body slumps over the table as he leaks his remaining essence into a pool that shortly forms a dripping pattern to the white tiled floor.  

               Choso defensively stands as the black tattoo on his faces begins to wave. “Satoru…”, is all he says while watching Gojo’s mother now strain to lift the blue tinted and gasping Peaches back upright his seat. ‘His mother is just as rash…’. Choso waits for a few moments longer but is eager to gauge Gojo when their eyes finally meet. ‘Why does he look so satisfied?’, he questions himself as he’s met with that smug smile. The Zenin man’s eyes look like they may pop out of his head but Choso can still make out the man’s reaction to his own presence. He hears Gojo say, “Everything is alright Choso, don’t worry. Just watch them.”, but the being is unable to simply sit with ease at this time. ‘How is this alright?’.

               “And you wonder where I get it from?”, Gojo is irritated that the only man that was willing to talk is now dead but he’s also able to take the information to heart because of how his mother reacted. ‘So all of this really is because of me…’, he thinks of Elska with a heavy heart knowing all that she’s been through, even before he got his hands on her was his fault. ‘My love…I will make this right.’.

               Gojo’s mother now sits back down, wondering if she went too far and gave away their hand. Peaches struggles to speak next to her but she can make out that he’s trying to question the fidelity of the Kamo’s last words. She sighs, “Look Peaches, I like you but I’m siding with Genghis.”. Peaches gurgles himself into a purple hue as he still cannot breathe or talk properly. She understands that Peaches was completely ignorant to the Titer’s planned betrayal to the Zenins and calm says, “They’re not wanting to eliminate other clans, they’re just going to help guide us to this proposed peace, don’t worry so much.”.

               Peaches can only think of Master Naoya who he feels is in grave danger after hearing this information. ‘I…he has to know…Master Na…he needs to be made aware!’. He thinks to grab his phone but he wouldn’t be able to relay the information, nor is he fast enough to text it. Peaches chokes in his stress and can tell his body is slowly shutting down after being deprived oxygen and feels completely hopeless about his predicament. When his heavy eyes meet Gojo’s he freezes in apprehension while listening intently.

               Satoru sighs dramatically with growing anticipation, “Now…where were we?”.

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Tagging : @angelofthorr ❤️

[solactier]

This one’s for you @heytherestilinski

This is going to be quite the mixture of emotions, so I apologise in advance if my expression of said feelings is all over the place, but I simply must talk about the golden fanfiction that is Heat Waves and how it has swayed my soul with sounds of sweet bells.

To start, I should say, I’ve been in love with writing and reading for as long as I can remember. The ability to weave an entire world with mere threads of words is fascinating to me, always has been. I’ve taken in quite the number of books and fanfictions throughout my period of living, and considering so, I can confidently say:

Dakota’s writing is a force to be reckoned with.

But the force I speak of is the kind that is emitted from ember sunrises that one witnesses during moments between summer and autumn. They hold a certain glow that keeps a person sat there, for incessant hours, in pursuit of a special warmth that will leave them settled and content.

I have never been captured and pulled in by a descriptive style more than I was with Dakota’s, and I say this having read a multitude of her work. This author is admirable in a multitude of ways, and I’m genuinely excited for anything and everything they will produce in the upcoming future. 

I could ramble for a good bout of time about many of Dakota’s works, but that would result in a document longer than Dream’s 19 page rebuttal, so let’s focus on one (for now).

Heat Waves

Two words that hold a grand amount of weight and cause hearts to shift.

I have a lot to say about this prosperous and glorious story, but at the same time I don’t because upon finishing a chapter, be it one of the first or the last, I am rendered speechless. My words of explanation and admiration morph into vibrations of zeal flowing through my veins as I absorb beautiful descriptions and powerful dialogue.

Heat Waves chapters aren’t ones I find myself totally rereading often, and here’s why:

When reaching the end of whatever chapter and scrolling through the final notes, I am left satisfied, completely. Dakota’s style is captivating in a way that allows me to read their sentences and phrases carefully and attentively, making sure the picture painted in my mind is as accurate as possible. I will encounter a certain, strong line and read it again, and again, and again before continuing on as to ensure I consume the sentiment being served, and mind you, it was served.

I came here at first expecting the usual or normal plate-size of feelings, but oh was I wrong, I was quenched, fully fed, if you will lol.

The reason for that is this narrative is not your typical fanfic troupe.

Heat Waves is a story about messy, unpredictable love, and that’s what makes it as enthralling as it is. It is poetic as it is real.

It’s thrilling lust turned to excruciating yet oh so warm love.

Dream misses and wants to hold onto George’s presence regardless of the pain it causes him, of the internal conflicts that have suddenly surfaced, of the changes he must face and make, of the haunting dreams. 

Even if George’s actuality distresses and brings Dream affectionate confusion, he will still reach for him. He will hurt and hurt and hurt in order to grasp the heat he’s grown a little too addicted to because he prefers when George is around, rather than when he isn’t. 

Dream’s mind spirals and his feelings scatter over interactions due to him knowing George very well, yet not knowing him at all. The two could flirt and exchange the most ridiculous of dialogue and nothing would change, and that’s where a certain dilemma is contrived: How much of this is real? What is considered serious among the numerous jokes him and George make? How far is he allowed to go? All of these questions tug at the curves of Dream’s brain and heart, and he is unsure about much, but despite that, he finds himself thinking all about George, during late nights, in the middle of June. 

Dream undergoes a series of emotional disputes over whatever the fuck is happening between himself and George, and that, my friends, is the heartache that comes from truly having feelings for someone and wanting their every speckle. Of course, such strong desires can sometimes be unhealthy. Dream, at one point, is a bad friend to Sapnap (whom we all must agree to stan because damn sir your back must be hurting from carrying your two idiot friends’ passionate but disordered baggage. a king) by ignoring his calls and messages due to being caught up, tied, and trapped in the strings of yearning. This one guy is doing so much damage to Dream, but he’s fallen too far down the pit of affection to care, in fact, he luxuriates in it.

(I also honestly do not blame Dream for playing the song on loop, because same, really does make you feel things)

Dream loves George. He loves George so much that the simplest of phrases and statements set his nerves ablaze and sparks his soul with hope.

It’s so painful but so fucking invigorating.

Which is why, at one point or another, he must learn to let go, not completely, but enough to stop the analysing and obsessing and sweating and dreaming, and that’s what’s so enticing about this tale, that among the reaching, there must be patience in order to reach something stable. Dream has been going insane for far too long, pouring his heart out to the one he so desires, but with such want comes uncertainty and surprises. Who the hell would’ve thought George had feelings for Dream for a good while before reeling himself in, only for his emotions to be stimulated with affection all too unexpectedly.

and who would’ve foreseen the slap of pure angst that were chapters 9 and 10, George’s hopeful rejection.

We read the two flirt, smile and laugh until their chests ached, connect, talk and call for hours, send fucking snapchats to eachother, telling sentimental stories, and much more.

All for Dream to crumble, piece by piece, until he is on the floor and crying over missing a chance he’s been so desperately trying to take. After what felt like a blooming relationship, Dream is seen breaking.

Because George wasn’t ready.

Because George was hit by a sudden wave of emotion that is so confusing and overwhelming and what the fuck Dream.

Yet, not all has been lost. The blazing fire of yearning may have been rained on, but it has not gone out.

Because it’s not a no, it’s a not yet.

And I cannot tell you the power such a statement holds. It was such a simple phrase, yet it shook my core as it delivers something raw, something hopeful, something to look forward to and have you inhaling a breath of longing because embers are still sparking and maybe, maybe, that chance isn’t completely out of Dream’s reach.

He just has to work on listening, bettering himself, healing and reaching a point of self-contentment. A point where he knows: he’s right for George, he’s enough for George. And the same goes for the latter.

Everything is so messy and destructive and confusing, yet they still reach.

And that, that, is such a raw form of love that it left my chest tight. They both want to be the best for eachother. They want to work and try for eachother despite the pain it may bring. They wait, and with their patience comes progression, which slowly but surely, will turn into comfort.

And to have the ability to articulate and describe such a journey is insane in every sense of the world. This story takes your collection of emotions and rattles it, making you feel so much at once that when ending a reading session, you release a satisfactory breath.

It didn’t end with attained love, or accepting confessions, or a romantic moment during the visit, or promises of kisses, or whatever cliche closing you could think of.

It ended with two friends saying “see you soon”

And that was perfect.

Perfect enough leave me, the reader, content and in awe. Because this is a slow and difficult love, one that will simply need time, as time is what will heal.

I couldn’t have asked for a better ending. Dakota is truly an inspiration.

Thank you, for creating and sharing such a masterpiece of a story, and having your readers go through the entire spectrum of emotions.

I cannot wait for Helium.

:)

[aliveanddrunkonsunlight]

Date tag - January 28

January 28 - Angst with Confessions

Author’s Note: So one of my weird, obsessive interests is war correspondents. I’ve read lots of books by them and lots of articles, including this amazing one about female war correspondents. There really was a “reporter hotel” outside Baghdad during the various wars in Iraq, which is oft cited as being a place that is falling apart and may suffer from rubble from bombings and blackouts, but offered an array of black market booze for the reporters. I really admire war and conflict correspondents, so I hope I don’t make light of the harrowing situations they put themselves through in order to do their jobs well. Also, this was oddly inspired by a convo with @theunpaidcritic about reporter!AUs for JB.

Slightly NSFW.

***

“Fuck, Hyle, how many times do I have to tell you? Your job is to send our editor the photos we choose together. Not your favorites.” 

Jaime looks across the crowded hotel ballroom, where Brienne’s usually calm voice is raised above the normal level of ruckus of the room. At any given time, the Orange Coast Hotel, is a temporary home to numerous reporters and photographers from across the known world who cover the war raging in the Disputed Lands and beyond. 

The nearby conflict has not left the hotel unharmed, and at any given time, there are bombings and blackouts. Correspondents hunker down in the ballroom, swearing over stories or taking calls on their various phones, both the slim mobiles if there’s service available, and the chunky satellite phones when in an emergency, which for them means a deadline. 

Brienne sorts out whatever issue she’s having with her colleague after more raised voices and wild hand gestures, before she huffs across the room and sits down next to him. “I don’t know why you put up with him,” he says calmly. 

“He has a lot of conflict experience,” she sighs, her voice a near grumble. 

“But you don’t get along. In this line of work, you need someone who has your back, and not just with your editor.” 

Brienne narrows her eyes at him and takes a swig from Jaime’s half finished glass of whiskey. “It’s only a six week assignment. I’ll make do.” 

The first time he met Brienne, he called her too innocent to be a war correspondent. She’d been green, he hadn’t been wrong about that, but she found her footing quickly. Brienne scarcely backed down--not from her editors or a story--and over the years, their admiration for each other had only grown. Reporting on conflict and trauma made you bond quickly, and sometimes in unhealthy ways, with your colleagues. “You could come work with me,” he offers easily. 

“I already want to kill Hyle,” she grouses, running a hand through her hair. “You think that wouldn’t apply to you?” 

Jaime chuckles. “Probably doubly so.” 

She allows a small smile at that. “Where’s Dacey?” 

“Off on a world tour,” he shrugs, but catches Brienne’s worried gaze. “She’s having a tough time, after what happened in Qohor. So she’s taking a break. A long one.” 

“So you’re out here by yourself?” He sent in his photos an hour ago, but prefers to stay in the midst of the fray rather than return to the quiet of his room. He nods. “That isn’t safe, Jaime.” Her hand falls to his knee and he tries not to think of all the times they’d turned to each other for comfort. This godsforsaken place. 

“It’s alright,” he replies, a little too cavalierly. Brienne’s blue eyes slice through him, practiced and observant. 

*

It’s practically a rite of passage at the Orange Coast Hotel: reporters and photographers drinking heavily and then winding up in each other’s rooms. Some of those nights have destroyed long distance relationships, a few marriages, but never, as far as she knows, anyone’s career. War reporters are far too proficient at being damaged. They might fuck a colleague, but their moral obligation is to tell the story, to let people know of the world’s horrors and injustices, to challenge them not to look away. 

So when Jaime shows up at Brienne’s room after midnight, she’s hardly surprised. He steps into her arms without so much as a hello and then her hands are undoing his belt, and fuck, she’s forgotten how fun it is. It feels wrong to say she missed this, but it rises up on her tongue all the same, Jaime kissing her in reply. He fucks her, Brienne bent over, her hands against the wall. When she drags him to bed, they slow things down, the closest to loving she’s ever had. 

Afterwards, he falls asleep, his soft snores keeping her company as she lies awake, wondering what it would be like to work together. Jaime is the best in his field, and has been since before she graduated. Brienne never told him that when she was still in university, he came to give a lecture on war photography. All the other girls were swooning over his brooding nature, his devil may care smile, but she thought he was full of himself, and he proved her right the first time they met in a conflict zone. Never meet your idols, she remembers thinking, and now, she sleeps beside him, trying to puzzle together when she may have fallen in love with him. 

In the morning, she’s surprised to find him there with coffee, orange juice, and toast brought up from the bar downstairs. His camera bag is by the door. “You don’t even carry a suitcase now?” she teases, starting to reach over him for a piece of toast, but he snags her wrist and to her surprise, pulls her down onto his lap, kissing her. “Jaime, is everything okay?” They’ve never done this. The morning after. At most, they would give each other a nod or wave in the hotel lobby, one or both of them with bags under their eyes. 

“I have to go to the Painted Mountains for a couple weeks,” he tells her, voice gravelly and still thick from sleep. “But when I get back we should talk about this.” 

Brienne blinks, thinking she’s dreaming it. “About what?” 

“You and I,” he chuckles, his green eyes twinkling. 

“Working together?” she asks, confused. 

“Brienne.” He says, exasperated, but he’s laughing, and then leaning in for another kiss, longer this time. Oh. Her hand tentatively traces his cheek, skin weathered from the time spent outdoors in the desert sun, her fingertips burning over his scruff. 

When they pull apart, Brienne nearly laughs, she’s scarcely felt this happy. “Why now?” They’ve been doing this for years. 

“Why not now?” he replies, not giving much away, but understanding slowly dawns on his face. She wants a real answer. “Because I miss you when you’re gone.” 

A warmth pulses through her, realizing the kernel of truth in what she said last night. Brienne doesn’t just miss the sex, their connection. She misses him, she misses them, when they’re apart, each off on assignment. “I miss you, too.” He wraps his arms around her then, Brienne resting her chin on the top of his head. “You’re coming back here in two weeks?” Jaime nods. 

*

She and Hyle return to the hotel after a long day. Covered in dust and mud and possibly blood, all she wants is to take a shower, but Brienne stops in the middle of the lobby when she sees Catelyn Tully at the hotel front desk, looking frazzled. Her heart rate picks up. Why would Jaime’s editor be here if he’s not due back for another week? It’s been a long time since they’ve seen each other, but Brienne steps over to where the older woman is standing. “Catelyn, what are you doing here?” 

“Oh, Brienne, thank gods. I’m trying to find someone to take me to Slaver’s Bay. Jaime is in the hospital there.” Everything happens in slow motion after that. Catelyn must lead her over to one of the lobby’s couches, because that’s where she finally returns to herself, a stiff drink in her hand. “You didn’t hear?” She shakes her head. “There was an ambush in Khyzai Pass. He was with the company under attack.” 

“Khyzai Pass?” It was incredibly dangerous, much more so than the Painted Forest. 

“I didn’t know either,” the older woman says, her tone somber. “I wouldn’t have let him go.” 

Jaime’s sudden need for clarification about their relationship takes on a new meaning and Brienne curses herself for being so stupid. “I should have realized.” The whole area is in such tumult that for years, Slaver’s Bay has been cut off from most means of transportation. The only way they might be able to reach Jaime is by boat, but traversing the straits of Valyria would take days. “Did you talk to the hospital?” 

Catelyn nods, her face pale. “They said he was stable, but he’d lost a lot of blood. He...his hand got hurt. There may be nerve damage.” 

She nods, her throat thick with emotion, tears welling up in her eyes. If he couldn’t take photos, Jaime wouldn’t want to live. An urgency rises up in her chest. “We have to get to him.” 

A shadow falls across the two of them, and Brienne looks up to find Sandor Clegane looming. “I can take you there.” 

They spend the next two days in an armored Jeep, barely stopping, but Clegane is true to his word, they breeze through checkpoints, and Brienne can barely thank him before she’s racing through the hospital corridors, a name echoing in each heartbeat. Jaime Jaime Jaime. 

[animeyanderelover]

Genuinely curious abt this; Gon with a Darling concerned but also afraid of him. Basically they have conflicted feelings for him; they always viewed him as this sweet innocent ray of sunshine capable of no wrong, he always has this sense of justice that Reader admired. They followed him on his journey to find his Father in the Hunter Exams, all the way to Chimera Arc.

That was a big turning point there. Reader noticed the signs througout their journey but they were confused. And then they saw how Gon reacted to Kite's death, they tried their best to console him. But with how Gon mercilessly plummeted Pitou to nothing, Reader's image of Gon is put to question and now they have no idea how to act or feel around him. Their responses were shorter, unsure, a bit distant and avoidant but they're also not sure whether to pull away or stay.

How would Gon reassure them?

That arc changed my view on Gon too. I guess it changed many opinions about Gon.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, clinginess, delusions, obsession, violence

Should I leave or stay?

🎣​You two basically grew up together and have been inseparable as long as you can remember. You two are are childhood sweethearts. Gon just has something that you've always admired. He's optimistic, always cheers you up when you're done and has a strong sense of justice. He's already told you about his dream to go to the Hunter Exam and find his father and you've been nothing but supportive, have already sworn to go together with him. That led to a pinky promise you two made on that day, promising to go through everything together. Gon's crush on you is fairly obvious but the whole village watches with smiles since the both of you are too adorable together. Who knows, your admiration and all the years you spent with him might have led to a crush from your side too.

🎣​You make great friends on the way, feel really happy in the beginning since it feels like nothing could ever get in your and Gon's way now. You have great people like Leorio, Kurapika and Killua with you after all. Hisoka marks the first real confrontation with the more evil aspects of the world as he has an interest in Gon and you, sees you as something that has potential. He freaks you out and Gon notices, reacts very protective as he always tries to shield you as soon as Hisoka notices your group.

🎣​Many things happen and the grim reality which was kept away from you on the isolated island starts dawning on you more and more. There are times where you feel down but Gon and your new friends encourage you and are there for you which is why you're always able to stay up. You help to save Killua from his family, fight your way through the arena and learn together with Gon and Killua Nen. You even manage to survive the Phanom Troupe somehow thanks to Gon and your own abilities which you unlocked thanks to your Nen. Bisky only helps you more to unlock your true Nen-potential as you work on your own special move fitting for you and your type.

🎣​You admire Kite and you know Gon does the same. He's finally a close lead to his father and a great teacher to top it all. Both of you look up to him and in your own naivety you genuinely think that after surviving the Phantom Troupe there is nothing you can't handle. That is until the Chimera Ants appear and Neferpitou attacks. The aura they project has your whole body trembling as you feel something that can only be described as the certain knowledge that you'll die here. Only thanks to Kite fighting and screaming you to run away and Killua grabbing both you and Gon, who wants to help Kite, are you able to survive.

🎣​It's the first time you've seen Gon being shattered as he turns into a shell of what he used to be for a while after. Your heart aches and you try to console him and cheer him up as good as you can. He's done so much for you already so you can at least do something for him too. Initially you're too blinded to notice what starts to brood inside of him. Or maybe you just try to ignore the signs he sometimes gives you such as the flare of negative aura or the empty look in those normally warm eyes. He's still your childhood friend after all, the optimistic and cheerful Gon. How can you ever think about him changing into something more dark when he sometimes clings to you as silent tears slip out of his eyes? You're in denial for a long time.

🎣​Those empty eyes when the three of you confront Neferpitou are horrific just as much as the hateful and murderous aura around him. Suddenly, as you see Neferpitou pleading to save a human life and Gon mercilessly shooting their offer down, you can't tell who is truly evil anymore. There is a human girl about to die if the Chimera Ant doesn't help them so why won't Gon give them the time they need to properly heal them? Gon surely wouldn't sacrifice a human life, an innocent one? Kite wouldn't have wanted this! The Gon you know wouldn't do this! You try to talk sense into him, ask him to give Pitou the time they asked for yet you stumble back out of fear when he turns around. His face is contorted into a ugly mask you can't bear to look at as he suddenly resembles a monster more than the boy you know. Surely you don't suddenly take the side of the killer of Kite, right?

🎣​You feel like you can't breathe anymore as you stare at the stranger in front of you, your heart beating out of fear. Why do you suddenly fear Gon? Is...Is that even Gon? You are silent for the rest of the time and as soon as Pitou is finished with their work and Gon wants to force them to heal Kite, he tells you in a voice devoid of all emotions that he wants you to stay away and go somewhere safe. Any protest you have dies out when he stares into your soul with those blank eyes that feel like they might suffocate you. You fear a direct confrontation and lie to him, something you've never done intentially before, tell him that you'll wait for him. In reality you just wait until you're sure that neither him nor Pitou with their insane En reach will notice you. You're sweating as images of Gon go through your head, the one you've tried to ignore despite all the signs.

🎣​When the insane wave of Nen hits you, you have a vivid flashback of the first time you met Pitou. Someone is going to die! You rush to the place you sense the trememdous wave of sinister Nen coming from. You stumble and scratch yourself as your body gives up multiple times on you out of a sheer overload of fear yet you force yourself to go on. You have a bad feeling deep down in the pit of your stomach, nearly throw out the contains of your stomach multiple times and are only able to take shallow breaths the closer you get. Once you reach your destination, you finally throw up everything you've eaten as you see something that completely shatters your own heart.

🎣​A huge man, plumming the headless corpse of Pitou into a bloody mush. Tears drop down you feel nauseous, coughing up the bitter and sour liquid of not fully digested food. Your throat stings from the gag reflex as you continue to cry, eyes tightly pressed together as you refuse to look. You know those clothes, you know the color of this hair, you know this Nen aura even if it is nothing like the friendly and passionate one you used to always sense. It feels like all your memories of Gon are tainted until you can only see the image of empty eyes and a dead person who is beating into the ground until only a puddle of blood and bones remains.

🎣​When you hear your own name being called, you choke on the air. Your body is violently shaking and everything inside of you screams to run away yet you don't have the strength. Your head is only able to move milimeters as you slowly dare to lift your head, pupils quivering. The only thing you can hear by now is your own heartbeat threatening to break through your ribs. Yet everything completely stops, even time, as you meet those eyes. He's crying, despite the horrendous act he just committed he is crying, blue blood decorating his face as he looks at you. It feels like you forget how to breathe, even your heart feels like it stops beating in that moment. Your vision is invaded by black dots dancing in front of your eyes as your chest starts to hurt.

🎣​You don't remember much after that, you only know that you wake up inside of a hospital. Apparently you've fainted, Killua found both you and Gon and carried you both back. When you hear Gon's name, your hands clutch the sheets of the bed tightly as your throat feels tight. You barely manage to press out the question of what happened to Gon and the hesitant look on their face has your heart freezing. You prepare yourself for the worst yet nothing could have prepared you for Gon's condition, you nearly throw up again. You get to hear that Killua apparently knows a way to heal Gon and has gone without you yet Leorio is here. When the man asks you worriedly what happened, the full burden hits you and you end up crying in front of him.

🎣​You spend hours just staring through the glass pane, waiting for Killua to come back. During this time you have a lot to think about. Gon has changed. You can't deny this any longer. You've just ignored all the signs you noticed throughout the way since you didn't want to accept that your Gon would ever change. You've been a fool to think that way. This world filled with Nen and hunters is vastly different from the small island you two grew up, obviously you two would change somewhere along the way. You've probably changed too, everyone changes eventually. This realization that Gon has changed and has lost something important has you shedding silent tears. His whole perception of the world must have warped when Kite died and you wonder how much of the old Gon is left. What you do know though is that the sight of this darker Gon has traumatized you and your body still reacts that way even now. There are slight shivers of terror going through your body.

🎣​You force yourself to stay around, at least until Gon finally meets his dad. You even try to stay optimistic when you notice that Gon is back to his old self as soon as Nanika has healed him. Yet you can't. When you stare at his grinning face, your mind automatically recalls empty and cold eyes and a face covered in blue blood. You always have to avoid your eyes as you try to suppress the shivers. You can't converse with him anymore, your responses are short and you always end up excusing yourself, walking quickly away as your hands turn to fists. You can't even look at him anymore, the images of him obliterating a corse haunting you.

🎣​Your distant behavior confuses Gon, it hurts him even. You two have always been so close after all so he isn't able to fathom why you suddenly want to pull away from him. He's a honest and straightforward person so he tries multiple times to ask you about your strange behavior but you constantly dodge him and leave him, not even spare him a glance. He senses your fear. You're scared of him and that knowledge bruises his heart. Why would you be scared of him? He'd never hurt you. His memories are foggy, he can't recall everything that happened after his encounter with Neferpitou and it isn't until Killua tells him that he found you lying unconscious near him that he realizes that you were there too.

🎣​Gon isn't very good with mind games, he confronts you openly about this at one point. Tries to reassure your dwelling fear of what you saw on that day. There are tears brimming in his eyes when he notices how you shake and take a step back as soon as he leans closer, a terrified look on your face. He pleads you to look at him at least just once but when you do and he sees the terror written all over your face, he can't bear it. He starts crying too but instead of trying to comfort him like you used to do, you just stand silently there with your lips pressed into a thin line.

🎣​Gon tries to make you forget, acts extra sweet around you to show you that he's still the same person. He's clingier though and more protective. He tries to tell himself that you'd never leave him, you two made a pinky promise after all to go through everything together. You've forgotten about that promise by now though and can only give him a bewildered look when he reminds you that you two made a promise. That means nothing to you anymore and hearing you say those words plunges a dagger of pain and desperation inside Gon's heart. He grows paranoid even more though he mumbles to himself that you wouldn't leave him since you two have always been together. That everything will be fine between you two. He becomes quite overbearing though, follows you everywhere and is excessively sweet towards you. If you try to run away, dangers are that he'll snap though. He already lost Kite and can't handle losing you too. He needs to protect you.

[zocrzay]

I am coming clean and admitting I've had an unhealthy obsession these past few weeks analyzing the break up of Katie & Greg, my favorite ship from the entire Bachelor/ette franchise. I went down hard with this ship as it crashed and burned. From the beginning, I loved their chemistry and even if some say they were just trauma bonding over the passing of their fathers, I felt they had so much more going for them. I just figured out why I can't shake this pair out of my head.

Here it is: Katie & Greg remind me of Lizzie & Darcy from Pride & Prejudice, one of the greatest love stories ever told. The idea that a couple similar to a favorite fictional pairing could exist in real life had awakened the hopeless romantic in me.

Greg is totally Mr. Darcy. He is a family man, adorably awkward, reserved, internally tormented, but also deeply passionate. He's willing to dance to encourage affection.

Katie is like Lizzie. She is strong-willed, proud (maybe too proud), and has a sharp tongue. She gives no one permission to insult her. She loves her family even though they're embarrassing. Katie does not quite fit in with other women, but that is why she is so interesting.

The opposite personalities of Lizzie & Darcy made their playful banter and relationship dynamic so enjoyable. They challenged each others' ideas. They expanded each others' consciousness as they learned more about each other. This was synergy at its finest.

Katie is from hipster Seattle while Greg is from fuss-free Jersey - two very different worlds at opposite ends of America. They brought these worlds together in beautiful balance. When they split, the Bachelor Nation fandom was divided like a broken family. At least Greg owned up the error of his ways, but Katie seems dead set on hating him. Eventually, the false narratives she tells herself to keep her walls up will unravel . I hope she faces the facts and owns up to her part in the communication breakdown. When Greg was most vulnerable, Katie could not show a hint of honest affection. She accused him of giving up on the relationship moments after he confessed his love for her. Katie only spoke of herself as a prize to be won, but to Greg, she meant so much more than just that. I hope she realizes the profound truth in what Greg was trying to tell her the day he left her. True love is more than just keeping up appearances for a show and more than just physical attraction. It is more than just saying the words "I love you" or handing out roses. Katie and Greg were more than just two hot people who were mutually attracted to each other. They had divine harmony when they were together... until they were burned by the heat of their own fire.

It is nice to know Greg just wants Katie to be happy, but I do not believe Katie & Blake have the secret sauce. Good for them for having a lot of sex, but from what I know, that kind of connection is not long term sustainable. If banging each other is the main reason they're together, they'll eventually get bored. Blake fell in love so easily with two previous Bachelorettes and that cheapens his affection for Katie. I'm sure he can bounce back quickly if Katie left him. Sorry man. Blake seems like a great person, but his intellect does not seem to match hers ("You don't have to be great. You just have to be you." dafuq?). I thought she was smarter, but maybe her flippant use of the term 'gaslighting' proves otherwise. It is shamefully elitist to point that out, but honestly, their conversation was drab when they weren't talking about sex. There are a lot of hot horny ladies out there that Blake might have more chemistry with than her. He was not even sure he wanted to propose and it was mean to tease her in the proposal speech with "I don't think I can give you what you came here for". The Say Anything references were also cringeworthy. We did not see their love get tested. She was like a damsel in distress and Blake just swooped in to save her season of the show just because he happened to be there. It was quite dull. The 'conclusion' of their journey was really unsatisfying. Katie describing their love story as "perfect" just shows the lack of depth in their relationship.

Lizzie & Darcy were such beloved characters because they were both flawed. They both made mistakes, but because of their love, they were willing to overcome their pride and their prejudice. They corrected course and became the best versions of themselves at the end of the story before choosing to be together. "I was wrong" are three words that make the words "I love you" so much more meaningful. True love is transformational. Feelings of attachment are not true love unless there is consciousness. The best love stories are not about lovers conquering outside forces, but conquering their own inner demons. People truly in love consciously choose to grow together in spirit, not in spite of their imperfections, but because of them.

Greg was impatient and had unrealistic expectations. He should have given Katie more chances to figure out what he was saying. Maybe she found his desperation unattractive. Maybe if he helped her off the floor and said goodbye properly, she might have flown out to Jersey to go after him. Katie was shallow when she could only say "I just love looking at you" and spoke to Greg as if he were just a contestant on a game show. It seemed as if his pain was just an inconvenience to her. She seemed untrustworthy. If she had stronger feelings for Blake or was still undecided, openly expressing that to Greg would have been more respectable than stringing him along to dump him later. If Greg was the one she wanted the most, she looked incredibly fickle switching her affection to whoever was still available. Most people have not been in her situation, so it is tough to judge.

Lizzie Bennet said a lot of mean things, but she was a strong female character because she was able to learn from her mistakes and grow as a person without compromising her core values. She was in love with Darcy for his character and integrity. He was courageous, generous, and compassionate - his appearance, his wealth and his status were least important to her. He proved his love for Lizzie by his selfless acts of kindness to her family even after she accused him of being a pompous ass.

Greg staying out of the way to honor Katie's decision and let her be happy with Blake is an act of love. Him working on himself in therapy is another way to prove the love he had for her was real. Only Katie knows the inner conflict she's been facing. If she truly loved Blake, resolving her conflict with Greg will help her and Blake in the long run - otherwise their relationship will be haunted by the past. If life with Greg was always her true heart's desire, love will find a way even in the most impossible circumstances.

It really is not fair to compare real human beings to fictional characters - especially the exceptionally (maybe unrealistically) strong characters written by Jane Austen. I am just sharing my thoughts before I watch the 2005 Pride and Prejudice movie for the hundredth time. I just want the satisfying ending I could not get from watching reality TV before I move on to my next obsession.

[johannas-motivational-insults]

I’ve seen a lot of people saying things along the lines of ”portal!Catra just wants to be with Adora and doesn’t resent her so obviously Catra is uwu soft baby who just wants to be loved and doesn’t actually want power” and implying that all Catra needs to find happiness and fulfillment is to give up the power-hungry charade and go be with her girlfriend. As an abuse survivor myself, I find this troubling on a number of levels, and I have a few things to say to this:

1) Portal!Catra is not real Catra.

Portal!Catra is something straight out of a really ooc high school au. She is very different from real Catra, and the contrast is meant to be shocking (much like the asshole au version of Buffy in BtVS 3x09 “The Wish”). It’s a reflection of how people are shaped by their circumstances, it’s not a character study of Catra’s actual wants and needs.

The Catra we saw in the portal, before she remembered her real history, was not dealing with the fallout of a lifetime of abuse. She did not know to be afraid of Shadow Weaver. In fact, she rolled her eyes and groaned when Shadow Weaver scolded her and Adora for goofing off and said she had high hopes for both of them. Real Catra would have killed to hear Shadow Weaver say she had high hopes for her, and here she was acting like it was an annoying lecture she heard all the time. The Catra of this “perfect world” has not spent her whole life being tortured and degraded and humiliated and told that she would never amount to anything.

So yeah, it makes sense that this version of Catra is happy for her friend who got promoted, in contrast to real Catra’s reaction. In this reality it’s good for the whole squad, and they all got the chance to prove themselves in Thaymor. In this reality it’s not a reminder that no matter what she does, she’ll never be as good as Adora, always be seen as useless and never get a chance to prove her worth. This Catra knows maybe she could become a Force Captain one day too. And if she didn’t, maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world; she hasn’t been told time and time again how incapable she is, so she doesn’t have her canon self’s all-encompassing urge to prove people wrong about her.

In the portal reality, Catra wasn’t blamed for Adora’s failings or treated like a nuisance - a sidekick at best, a liability at worst. She wasn’t pushed down so Adora could be lifted up, they were lifted up together. Of course this Catra doesn’t resent Adora the same way she does in canon or have the same obsession with proving herself.

2) “Just being with Adora” is what caused this problem in the first place.

Catra spent her childhood finding solace in Adora while battling a growing resentment towards her. We’ve all seen “Promise,” this fact is right there in canon. Just being with Adora was Catra’s strategy to try to stay happy throughout her childhood, but it wasn’t working.

Adora was the only good thing in Catra’s life, but this relationship brought her pain as well, and not just from Shadow Weaver. She felt like Adora didn’t respect her, didn’t believe in her. And it’s hard to blame her when you see some of Adora’s cocky posturing, like the “sure you did” and “riiiiight” comments. Adora’s just teasing and playfully asserting dominance (perhaps even trying to flirt a little), but to Catra it doesn’t feel playful, it feels malicious and disrespectful. The one person who makes her feel like she’s worth anything at all so casually dismissing her abilities is devastating.

Sacrificing her need for respect and validation to go be with Adora is not going to fix Catra’s problems. It is not progress, for Catra or Catradora. It’s regression into the unhealthy dynamic that caused much of the conflict between them in the first place.

3) There is no reclaiming this “ideal Catra.”

This may seem like a callous thing to say, but it doesn’t matter what Catra could have been under better circumstances. We are all shaped by our experiences, and no amount of love or therapy will undo what we have already gone through and how it shaped our psychology. All we can do is learn how best to live with who we are now. I’ve had to learn this the hard way, as someone with an acquired disability and a boatload of trauma. There is no ideal version of yourself to get back to, only future versions of yourself to work towards.

This is as true for Catra as it is for anyone irl. It’s not fair to say that Catra “at her core” just wants to be safe and loved and with Adora and therefore all her other needs borne of her abuse and neglect are meaningless. That’s extremely negligent, actually. That attitude minimizes Catra’s trauma, implies that she just needs to learn to get over it and then she won’t have these “impurities” in her personality anymore.

Catra has been abused, and she will always be hypersensitive to indicators of abuse. She’ll get triggered and riled up by seemingly innocuous things when it feels like someone is trying to dominate or subjugate her, take away her agency. She is always going to need to feel a certain sense of power and control just to feel safe and comfortable. In certain situations and around certain people she may feel safe enough to let that guard down and just relax and trust, but that’s a privilege, not a right. On that note...

4) Catra does not need to chase this ideal for anyone’s comfort.

Yes, Catra needs to change. She needs to stop pushing away everyone who loves her, she needs to curb her self-destructive impulses. She needs to take steps toward not just redemption, but healing. This will only be possible once people finally start to acknowledge her trauma, but that’s a whole other story.

However, Catra does not need to change the ways her abuse has shaped her. That’s impossible, and an unfair expectation. Healing from trauma is not the same as erasing it, and this is a very common misconception in the real world as well as in fandom. It’s also an extremely harmful misconception.

Now, this idea in particular is a popular theme in discussions of Catradora’s relationship dynamics, the implication being that Catra will only be happy/healed if she can get to the point where she not only can, but wants to yield control to Adora and that if she can’t/won’t then she doesn’t really trust her and their relationship is broken. The yikes level of this argument, especially in NSFW contexts (which is where you will often see it), is off the charts. It is not fair to expect an abuse survivor to put herself in uncomfortable and potentially triggering situations just to prove she trusts her partner or to demonstrate personal growth. Period.

Now, that’s not to say expressions of trust on Catra’s part wouldn’t be good for the relationship. Adora wants to take care of Catra as much as Catra wants to take care of her, and feeling like Catra trusts her (in those contexts or in others) would certainly stroke Adora’s ego. The problem lies in it being an expectation or us treating it like a milestone, something to celebrate. If Adora is a good partner she will work with Catra as she is and let her express trust in ways she feels comfortable with, rather than pressuring her to do things she’s not comfortable with to prove her feelings for Adora or illustrate her progress.

In short, erasing her history and ignoring her abuse is harmful.

Like I said, portal!Catra is not real Catra, and we can’t treat her like she is. It makes zero sense to ignore or villainize her perfectly legitimate need to feel powerful and in control over her own life just because someone who lived a totally different life didn’t have that same need to the same degree.

And I know I will get comments that canon Catra doesn’t really want power either, but I disagree. Catra doesn’t really want to rule the world, it’s true, but she wants to prove that she can. We’ve seen her enjoy being in a leadership position because she’s good at it and it reminds her of her own competence and worth. Just because she found no satisfaction in losing her soul to take over the world does not mean she finds no genuine fulfillment in being in a position of influence.

Even regardless of how much she enjoys it, Catra is still drawn to power because she has grown to associate it with positive outcomes like safety, agency, and self-actualization. Yes, power may not be Catra’s ultimate goal, but that doesn’t make it meaningless to her. And I really wish people would stop acting like a perfectly normal response to abuse is a character flaw that needs to be fixed.

It seems a lot of people are quick to forget Catradora’s real history as depicted in “Promise” because they like the “Remember” version of their relationship better. Because they like this version of Catra better. It’s understandable - who doesn’t want to see Catra happy, right? But like Adora so devastatingly told Catra (and all of us), it’s not real.

We need to stop pretending it’s real.

[sp00kybitme]

Okay so this is really personal but I feel like I need to share it in order to better my health because being upfront about your trauma is a good way to heal from it. So buckle up because this post is gonna be a real doozy:

So let's start by backing up about 4 years ago in the summer of 2017, I was 17 since my birthday follows the year number and I was going through my own personal turmoil, dealing with my already medically diagnosed PTSD, OCD, Anxiety disorder, and severe depression. I had falling outs with most all of my irl friends due to my declining mental health but the decline started around august as my therapist who worked the best for me was leaving the clinic. She was openly queer and I related a lot to her since I felt like for once I wasn't alone yet after she left I was distraught. Also at the time I had a falling out with my father and my brother was a recovering drug addict so you could say shit was really complicated around that time and my head space was not well.

So back in 2016 I was able to get a PS4 and I hadn't used it until 2017 due to being more focused on my mental health but I caved and began playing Overwatch and there I met some folks who made life seem somewhat normal for once, no high end conflict, no drama, just simple fun with friends is all I wanted and for a while I actually had that! That was until the coming month september.

So September was when I started breaking off from big friend groups and settled with 2 people, let's call them Z and J for context, So Z was someone who I would say had undiagnosed mental health issues and J was someone who was mutual friends with Z because they went to high school together. Z and J were some of my only friends and we as people really bonded over stuff and I felt like life was actually turning up after losing so much shit that year.

So just for preface/context: at this time I identified with she/her pronouns and went by the term pansexual/demiromantic but now after much time I identify with they/them pronouns and am at least asexual, as for romantic I'm still figuring that out. So November rolled around and I noticed conflict immediately, Z and J were subtly arguing and J was using a victim complex mentality to guilt Z into caving yet at the time I was an oblivious 17 year old who was just desperate was friendship to the point of trying to always be a mediator.

Z was always talking about how lonely they were and how every relationship they had never worked out and at the time I was not out about not being cisgender and so they perceived me as a girl. Throughout September to november they would CONSTANTLY ask me out to the point of it being a desperation and a guilt trip and at this point I was afraid. I had lost EVERYONE in my life here and it was so frustrating but for a month I would keep my boundaries up and say no because I genuinely wasn't interested in a relationship and I didnt feel taht way about Z but they continued to push me and eventually I gave in and I remember the exact place it happened.

So we all 3 had a daily routine of getting on and playing Overwatch for hours just to talk shit and goof around so that day we were skirmishing on the "Temple of anubis" map and I said yes and in retrospect it was a horrible time to do that because it was in front of J and in turn made them feel loke a 3rd wheel. I wanna say that me conceding into a relationship while having no attractiom or interest was wrong of me and that I apologize for but again I WAS pressured as a minor. Also I forgot to say that Z was 19 and while that kind of age gap isn't inherently the worst, I was still an emotionally vulnerable minor being coaxed into a relationship.

So things went on relatively the same except for the fact that J was beginning to sound more spiteful and ended up getting upset easier and volatile which I blamed myself for but we'll get more into J very soon. So Z and I were noticing the change in behavior but tried not to bother J with it because they always didn't wanna talk about it. J confided in us at one point by telling us about their living situation being troublesome, they claimed they had no privacy, were verbally abused by their mother, and had relatives who were also abusive. We both had empathy for J and I was strongly affected by that since I had a strong disconnect from my father at the time who was abusive in a religious way.

We tried to keep things relatively normal at this point for the sake of J but Z was always trying to be bluntly romantic with me and I wasn't interested although they did ask me for "thigh pics" (lemme preface by saying I was still a minor at this point) but I was coaxed into that and virtual s*x which I was extremely uncomfortable with but Z had a strong tendency to victimize and guilt trip and I just wanted friends and had PTSD from friends levaing me and calling me selfish. It's not something I'm proud of but I genuinely was THAT scared of losing friends. In instances where J would get spiteful and resent Z, J at one point left our group chat and group and didnt reply to us because they attempted s*icide. We were HORRIFIED to find that out and really tried to keep a close eye on J into the new year.

2018 rolls in and now is the year that I consider my worst, I will TW// onward for talks of verbal abuse, emotional manipulation, talks of s*xual assault, s*icide, homophobia, and gaslighting. So after J's s*icide attempt I felt even WORSE in a relationship that itself was already one sided but I powered through as to not upset Z. The friendship dynamic we had at this point was gone as it only seemed to be arguing and fake excitement. One thing we all did in the game was idolize specific characters and obsess over them for mental comfort to the point that we got emotionally distraught over their deaths in game, genuinely very unhealthy for all of us. One thing J would do at times was purposefully pick me and Z's characters in game in commit s*icide in game with them just to upset us and would sometimes mentally torture Z by forcing them to be the character Z hated which only screwed up Z's Mental health. J would also alwsys victimize and act like they weren't being treated fairly and that all culminated in January.

January 2018, J began putting the thought of a polyamorus relationship on the table as in J, Z, and I would all be in a relationship together which I wasn't too keen on but was open to if it made everyone happy. Z wasnt interested at all and for the span of 2 weeks of January, J kept trying to manipulate and coax Z into a relationship and had me try to convince Z as well which I didn't know was wrong but granted I didn't understand Poly relationships until years later. Z eventually half caved and gave it a try but a day later Z backed out because they felt uncomfortable. I was a bit irritated at that time and so was J but I didn't personally know why because I was very oblivious to love and how it was supposed to be. We also would play 1v1 type games for fun until this time because both of them were seriously bothered by losing in 1v1 games and would gloat when they won. I personally didn't care as much and would joke around for the most part just to have fun. After this month we stopped playing 1v1 type games.

Early February came and we all began hanging out in skirmish (which means like a map where you just freeroam for 30 minutes until it refreshes), sometimes we would do ship dynamics with each other for fun and at the time we were joking around. Me and J joked around about two male characters (Junkrat and Roadhog) being together and if you have seen the two characters then you'll know why. Their dynamic as friends is flawed but a popular one yet nonetheless I liked their dynamic as a relationship at the time. Around this time, Z was beginning to do what I would call "selective homophobia" as in they would like some gay ships and despise others. When Z was presented with a WLW (lesbian) ship, they would be 100% supportive yet when a specific MLM (gay) ship was presented, they would make gagging noises as if they were trying to throw up. I should also mention how often Z would send Overwatch porn to group chats and how it made me incredibly uncomfortable, especially as a minor.

J would ultimately hold the blatant homophobia against Z and tried to turn me again Z for it. During this time, J was messaging me privately to try and convince me that Z was a bad person and that I should break up with them. Ultimately I agreed and broke up with Z over this and me and J distanced myself from Z to just hang out together. I was personally distraught in just finding out that a friend I was close to ended up being Homophobic all this time and emotionally it broke me a lot. At the time, J was there to help me emotionally and that initially helped me build trust with them. Eventually in mid February they asked me out and since they had helped me so much mentally, I felt out of a sense of obligation that being with them was something I almost owed them.

Side note: I wanna bring up this point as just a weird coincidence: February itself has always been one of the worst months for me every year, something horrendous has happened to me each February of each year and its weird because of how often I can recall this still being the case.

So After being around J for so long we started to just joke around and have fun as friends. They actually showed me their face for the first time over a video call which actually surprised me because they looked different then I thought they were but nonetheless I enjoyed their company because I felt like I had a friend. March rolled around and my birthday was coming up, my 18th birthday which was more of a big deal to J than me. They wanted to see me in provocative pictures and were constantly talking about how excited they were for it and I didn't understand why really. They were also 19 btw and they seemed way too excited for something as simple as that kind of picture. The day rolled around and I felt uncomfortable, I was told to send pictures and I did which admittedly made me uncomfortable as hell yet I still did and I was given positive affirmation for it. Little fact about me is that one thing I didn't get much growing up was positive affirmation so getting that made me feel like I was actually doing something right for once.

Over the next few months, J went from supportive and well intent to showing their true colors. As time went on they began to get more and more controlling with the things that I did as an individual. It went from supoorting the fact that I struggled with PTSD to using it as a reason that I shouldn't be making other friends besides them. From being supportive of my open mindedness with sexuality to coaxing me into spewing hateful rhetoric. Their family was actually really supportive of me at first, the thibg they had said about their mom turned out to be a lie used to play on my sympathy because their mom adored me as a person and constantly would ask if me and my mom needed anything. They sent us two big care packages through the mail with food and money for food and I originally was against that not just because I'm genuinely horrible at taking gifts but because they had my physical address and knew where I lived in case they wanted to "visit". The care packages meant a lot to me and my mom because we've been low income since I was little and having the luxury to live in a house or not have to worry about food consumption was something I never had.

During late spring, J began to be a lot more forceful with me by manipulating and gaslighting me into thinking many toxic things. I was afraid at this point of both J and being alone again. They would tell me that I should start acting more feminine and "like a girl" and that was REALLY triggering to me since over a big part of my life, I was questioning my gender identity and being forced into this feminine box made me hate myself. They would tell me to wear "panties", talk higher pitched, and even tell me to be a submissive partner who just lets them lead and me follow. I'm naturally a more dominant person in general so it was like I was disregarding a huge part of my identity. I was almost silenced into this role that J wanted me to be. They would force me to do lewd things online and while you could say that I shouldn't have been worried since it wasn't irl, they knew my address and last name.

One instance I remember was that J asked about my deadname and I told them and then questioned why I would change that name since it "was more feminine and fit me". It was upsetting to hear that but at least they didn't deadname me after finding out. They also kept telling me that I wasnt allowed to be attracted to anyone but them. I wasn't allowed to protest because they would threaten killing themselves and actually send a picture of them with a knife to their throat as if to threaten me.

A detail I left out intentionally was something that disturbed me the most about them and really makes me think they have a serious form of some kind of dissociative mental disorder. (Context: I'm not stigmatizing folks who have Dissociative disorders, my mother has one and the symptoms J exhibited make me think of someone who experiences detachment or disillusionment. Im not going to diagnose them but my instinct makes me believe that it could be something similar yet they have never been medically diagnosed.) J would constantly talk about a friend they had in elementary school who had taken their own life and how the spirit of this friend still keeps near them since they were close back then. This friend almost seemed to become a way to manipulate me later on in 2018.

This friend of theirs almost seemed to be a way to seperate themselves from how they treated me or avoid blame. This friend would threaten me that if I didn't let J r*pe me that they were gonna commit s*icide and that it would be my fault for not doing what they wanted. They also would threaten me to do what J said or else they would "possess" me. I'm someone who has had bad experiences with spirits so I didn't want to have more hell. J themselves would sometimes get extremely angry when I stood up for myself or expressed stuff I was really interested in and would threaten to track me down, assault me, and kill my mom. They also began pitting me against my mom because I would talk about how my mom was getting worried about me being hurt but J said that my mom was faking it and manipulating me and I almost believed J but I know my mom and I know she cares too much about me to do something like that.

Around September, I was practically an emotionless shell. I wasn't excited about anything, I wasn't angry anymore, I was barely feeling much of anything but a deep seeded sadness. I lacked in a lot of places and repressed any emotion I had so deep that I couldn't react to anything anymore. I think J began to notice because they started to actually act concerned after a while but that was flickering like a light switch. One of the last instances that I broke down was august of 2018 when I began crying heavily over microphone and begging them to not hate me. They had no reaction, no remorse , no empathy and when their mom came in they just left me there crying without affirming me at all.

During this time, I was sending hundreds of nude photos a day to appease them and they would get off and go to sleep and during the night I would secretly cry and look at queer based things in private to try and keep some semblance of my identity in tact. I actually started watching Sanders sides around July 2018 and enjoyed the series and how nice the fanbase seemed and it somehow helped me get through this rough period of time.

October was probably some of the worst time because I ended up missing my favorite holiday, Halloween which was the only time I personally enjoyed being myself because the element of the holiday made me happy. That halloween I spent on overwatch with J, overall miserable and hating myself. I also forgot to mention that J would dictate what I wore, they would hate that I wore boxer briefs and men's cologne and deodorant, they constantly questioned why I was trying to be masculine when I was AFAB but again I was also closeted with my gender identity and this shoved me even more into the closet when they would argue with me about it.

November rolled around and I had practically been at my breaking point, J was trying to convince me for weeks to move down south to live with them and their family and I was practically being forced. I have a fear of flying and I kept saying that I wouldn't feel comfortable leaving my disabled mom by herself and my mom also hates flying. J was trying to get things their way and forced me too and I was looking into flights even though I was deadset on not going. November 11th 2018, I wasn't replying to J's texts right away because I was actually standing up for myself. They began HEAVILY threatening to end their life and I remember sitting there and crying without emotion then I hung up on them and told them to stop calling and texting me as they had begun to text and call me incessantly. I said I needed a break and finally let out a breath when they said ok.

Around late November, I felt as though I had misjudged Z and unblocked and messaged them, apologizing for being a dick to them. They initially forgave me and I was just going to move on but they asked if we could play in a public chill server and I accepted just to try and get my mind off of J. As we entered into the game, J suddenly started spectating and Z left instantly out of fear. I only talked to Z just to apologize and give context as to what happened, I was desensitized and just needed a friend. J messaged me apologizing frantically and saying "if you've moved on to date Z, just tell me so I can move on" and I said "no, I just needed a friend right now and I need my space. Don't talk to me for a while, respect that one thing." And thankfully, I was actually left alone.

December rolled around once again and at this point I had finally blocked J and moved on from everything, J's mom had messaged me on Facebook and told me that I was a "filthy cheater who just used J for their kindess and didn't care about them" but I did actually genuinely care deeply about J yet he abused my compassion by gaslighting me and putting me into this false sense of security. Before I could reply, she blocked me so she never actually took the time to ask me. I was feeling guilty for leaving J but I was reassured by Z during that time period and Z had apologised for previous comments as well. Z ended up introducing another friend to the group, we'll call them A. We would first play Overwatch but immediately switch to Minecraft which I had bought when still with J to play with their family. Around this time I had begun to cling to Z uninitentionally due to recovering from my trauma and needing that affirmation that I wasn't some terrible abuser, as J had manipulated me to think I was. Z was getting a bit bothered by this yet they had never publicly told me nor did they understand why I clung to them in the first place. Z knew I had PTSD and I had told them exactly what I had just described earlier about what J had done to me and Z was initially very empathetic though I was never told that my clinginess was bothering them because I was in recovery mode. Eventually towards the end of January, I was told by A that they knew why I was so clingy with Z. At first I was confused because they both had known that I had PTSD but A proceed. "The only reason you're so clingy with Z is because you're secretly still in love with them, I can read you like an open book and you would do best to stop denying your obvious feelings for them" Hearing this made me personally disgusted, appalled, and upset mentally. Z kept to the side during this discussion and didn't go against A however they didn't deny A's words.

I retorted by speaking about my trauma and how it made me cling to people unnecessarily but then A proceeded to invalidate my trauma by implying that I was over exaggerating what I had gone through. I felt awful and I forcefully distanced myself from them both only to go back once again out of fear of being alone. This continued for a while until July 10th, 2019 when I finally distanced myself from Z for good. I made my own account on Instagram and over the span of 2 years, I built up a community of people who liked my work and I got my sense of individualism back give or take. I recently changed accounts because this era in my life is brand new and I couldn't be happier with where I'm at.

This post is more so a form of being vulnerable and a bit of exposure therapy. Sure im not a perfect person, I can't even publicly out my abusers but I think it would do more harm than good. If anyone wants to have a warning for their accounts, at least on YouTube, message me on my Insta in my bio. I'm sorry if this was long and possibly upsetting but I wanted to just get this out. I dont know who would be seeing this but if you read this far: thank you, honestly its upsetting to have to go through so much bullshit and I hate talking about it because it's difficult to really put shit out there without feeling like its some tupe of attention thing. I don't want to post this for sympathy, I want to post this for me, just to feel better about where I'm at and also face my trauma head on to heal from it. I'm not saying this to compare who's life is worse or not but I am posting this to better myself.

Thank you again,

Spooky