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#this is based in my own experiences and mood and is not meant to be telling people how to feel or any kind of formal analysis
a-selkie-abroad · 26 days
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i hate that if you add alt text/descriptions on images after people have already reblogged them the alt text/description doesnt show up on the reblog. I often don't add alt text until much later after posting stuff, partially because sometimes i forget and sometimes I don't have the spoons at the time i post to do it (ADHD), and its very feelsbadman that it doesnt show up on the reblogs people have already made. maybe I should just leave things in drafts until i do the alt text/description for them.... but then some things id never end up posting because I never get around to adding a description for them...
does anyone know of any resources available on how to write image descriptions/ alt text? I'd like to learn how to do it Properly
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lxstfathier · 1 year
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Hi could you please do sex pollen with bass or Alejandro Vargas or both with an inexperienced female reader please
Anon? anon who is bass?? i couldn’t figure out who you meant so, here it is, i did it with ale ;)
Flowers
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Alejandro Vargas x Reader
Warnings: unprotected sex, p in v, sex pollen, squirting, age-gap, another fic of Ale taking our virginity cuz we love that shit!
A/N: i actually loved writing this lol, it was fun. you know english is not my first language, so there might be some errors, but i hope y’all like it 💗
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You don’t remember exactly what happened. The mission went wrong, and you followed colonel Vargas into the woods, trying to scape from enemy fire, accidentally running into some bushes full of strange colorful flowers that you had never seen before. Then it all went blurry.
Now, two hours later, you’re on base again, feeling really weird. Your whole body is sensitive, as if it has been set on fire, heavy breaths escape your lips and a thin layer of sweat starts to appear on your skin. How are you supposed to deal with it? you don’t even know what is going on, but you try your best to stay quiet while a nurse examines all your vital signs.
“You’re fine” she says after making sure that you don’t have anything that could possibly affect your health. “But it seems that you’re under the influence of some… natural aphrodisiac. So i’d suggest you to, y’know, relieve all that sexual energy, it will make you feel way better.”
Natural aphrodisiac? oh, so now you finally understand why your poor pussy is so wet, clenching around nothing and practically begging to be fucked. It makes sense. However, you don’t have a problem with masturbating a few times until the effects wear off. So you thank her, and then make your way out of the medical bay, walking straight to your own room.
But you didn’t expected to run into you colonel again. Those flowers should have affected him the same way as you, that’s for sure, what is he doing in the hallway? he should be inside his room, doing god knows what to help himself with that issue.
“Sargento” Alejandro calls you, forcing you to stop dead on your tracks, even though both of you are not in the mood for talking. “What did the nurse told you?”
“She said i’m fine. It’s just the effects of a natural aphrodisiac what’s making me feel so weird.” you answer, smiling at him, trying to play it cool. “Why? do you have the same?.”
“Si” he nods, but you don’t hear the rest, all of your concentration is now looking at his pretty brown eyes, his lips, his stubbly jaw, his broad shoulders, his strong arms in that tight shirt, and that obvious bulge inside his cargo pants.
He’s always been a good looking man, you won’t deny it, but right now? he’s fucking sexy, radiating a strong masculine essence that makes your knees go weak and the heat in your belly grow more intense. Almost as if you were a bitch in heat.
All of your shyness is gone, and before you know it, you’re grabbing his hand to guide him into your room, not even caring that he’s way older than you, a colonel who is supposed to be your superior. The arousal clouds your mind, not being able to think about anything else than getting pounded by him all night until you can’t remember your own name.
And Alejandro knows he shouldn’t be so eager to fuck his sergeant, but how can he tell you no when you look so pretty and so damn needy?
Once you’re both inside, with the door locked and the lights on, he pins you to the wall, kissing you passionately as his big hands roam your clothed body. Something new to you, considering the fact that you had never been touched by a man before this.
Should you tell him that he’s about to be the your first sexual experience? maybe, but you don’t wanna ruin the mood, so you just let go, feeling your tongues dancing with each other, running your hands over his strong chest.
But, as much as you’d love to keep kissing, the heat caused by the aphrodisiac is now unbearable, forcing both of you to pull apart and take your clothes off. And it could be part of the effect of those annoying flowers, but when you finally see his muscles, his tan skin covered in sweat, and that big veiny cock springing free, your mouth waters and your pussy throbs, clearly enjoying the view.
“Like what you see, mi amor?” he asks teasingly, and you just nod. “Cause i really do, who would have known my sergeant had such a pretty body? huh?”.
Now that Alejandro sees you all exposed for him, admiring every detail of your being, he’s sure that you’re the most beautiful girl he has ever met. If he had known what was he missing on, he would have pushed you into those bushes way earlier.
You don’t really know what to do next, you’re flustered and too inexperienced, so when he notices your hesitance, he gently guides you to the bed, telling you to lay on your back and relax.
Alejandro kisses your neck, and then slowly goes down to your tits, playing with your nipples between his teeth. It’s almost like a torture, you want more than that, involuntarily bucking your hips to get at least a little friction, anything.
“Just fuck me already, please” you beg in a high pitched voice, desperate to feel him inside you.
“Such a needy little whore” Alejandro says, mocking your pathetic cries. But you don’t care, even less when he drops to his knees, prying your legs apart to have a good look at your perfect pussy before devouring it like a starving man.
He licks and bites at your slick folds, savoring the sweet taste, dives his tongue into your hole and goes up to your clit, sucking hard. It feels really nice, better than any of those times where you played with yourself at night, and it’s not long until you’re moaning, feeling that familiar knot in your lower belly while tugging at his dark hair.
You cum easily, arching your back off the bed, almost crushing his head between your trembling legs. But that doesn’t stop him, he keeps eating you sloppily until you ride out that first orgasm.
When you come down from the high, Alejandro is already on top of you, holding your legs on his shoulders, guiding his cock to your tiny wet hole. And, without a warning, he slides inside on a singular hard thrust, making you scream at the new sensation.
He’s big, so the sudden stretch is a bit painful, but once you get adjusted to his girth and he starts moving slowly, your pained cries turn into whimpers filled with pleasure.
“F-faster Ale, please, ah- god-“ you moan into his ear, going literally stupid on his cock that you can’t even say a simple sentence.
“Yeah? you want me to destroy this pretty little pussy?”
He starts thrusting harder, pounding your tight heat in the most delicious way, hitting that sweet spot inside you over and over. It’s good, way too good actually, and you can’t help but writhe under him, digging your nails on the nape of his neck.
Another orgasm is near, you know it, and he can feel it too by the way you’re clenching around his cock.
“That’s it, preciosa, you’re taking me so well” Alejandro growls, one of his large hands going down to find your clit, rubbing it fast in circular motions. “Cum for me again, come on.”
His words, mixed with the stimulation and the way he’s ramming into you, is just what you need to see stars. You come undone once more, feeling the intense pleasure in every inch of your body, moaning so loud that probably the whole base heard.
“Fuck, look at the mess you made” he says, looking at how your sweet juices are coating his abs and pubes. Did you just squirted? hell, that’s new, you didn’t knew you could do that.
Alejandro doesn’t take long to reach his own orgasm, thrusting a few more times until he’s cumming inside, filling that pretty pussy of yours with his thick seed as he bites your neck, letting out an animalistic grunt.
You both stay like that for a minute, too fucked out to move, catching your breath. And you’re feeling better, but the effects are still not gone at all.
“That was amazing” you say, stroking his beard, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “Can we do it again?.”
“As many times as you want, preciosa.”
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safarigirlsp · 23 days
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Never Whistle in the Woods
Flip Zimmerman x OC
Word Count: 7.5k
Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Horror. Violence. Monster Action. Cryptids. Creepy things that happen in the woods. Backcountry flavor. Just a nice getaway with Flip. Those never go according to plan. I’m willing to continue this and write more if people like it!
Note: Going forward, I'm going to write characters from now on instead of Readers just because it's really annoying trying to switch back and forth for the non-fic writing I do. However, the female characters will be totally physically vague aside from having a name, so they can still easily be read as an insert by anyone who chooses to insert themselves.
Based on two requests I combined then butchered from @rynwritesstuff and @lumberjack00fantasies
AO3 Link
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One of Flip’s favorite things was spending a secluded weekend out at his cabin, nestled in the forested mountains, away from the noise and mayhem of town. And away from people. Nothing cured a man’s love of humanity better than working with them. He enjoyed having a beer and a burger with his friends after work and he enjoyed taking his girl out to dinner. But he liked it a helluva lot more to take her with him into the mountains and not see or hear from another person for a couple days. Actually, it had become his favorite thing.
Knowing this, his girl, Kate, had booked him a nice getaway right up his alley. A solid week squirreled away in a truly remote cabin about as far away from humanity as he could get. It had taken a little online spelunking for her to land on the small town of Kitwanga, British Columbia, but its selling points of having a population of less than five-hundred, being a prime location for hunting and fishing, and being a true gateway to the wilderness with scarcely an outpost North between the little town and the Yukon, had sealed the deal. Besides, for the shrewd outdoorsman who wanted a less touristy experience with a friendlier populace for about a third of the money, British Columbia was a superior option to Alaska with all the same appeal.
Over-the-counter hunting licenses were available for all sorts of game that required a lottery draw or exorbitant fee in the States. Flip laughed when he read in the game regulations that it was strictly prohibited to shoot Bigfoot and that, should a sportsman encounter him, he was to be considered a protected species.
“How many big, hairy Canadians do you reckon had to get shot in the ass before they added that regulation?” He grinned at Kate, sitting with her legs curled under her on the seat of his rented truck as they bounced down the terrible excuse for a dirt road, sloshing in the mud and hitting potholes by the hundreds. Flip had twice hit his head on the bolt of the rifle secured in the headache rack above his head on the ceiling of the truck’s cab. He would have left the rifle inside their cabin, but they had been stringently warned not to take a step outside without it. Bears were a real threat and the animals here had little experience with humans, which meant little fear of them.
“Sounds like you better watch your own ass if you’re out wandering around in low light,” she teased back. “You’re big and lumbering enough to be mistaken for Bigfoot.”
“Yeah, but I’m a lot better lookin,’” he winked at her as he pulled into the only gas station in the tiny town. He filled up every day on their return in case the owner decided to take a day off. Electric pumps were a novelty that hadn’t reached this far north, it seemed. He was in a teasing mood, returning from a day of hiking and, as he put it, takin’ pictures of every goddamn thing in Canada.
“Depends on who you ask,” Kate laughed warmly. “I’ve waged a losing battle for quite a while trying to convince my friends you’re handsome. They tell me I’m blind or brainwashed.”
Five businesses in the tiny town were booming, frequented by most if not all of its citizens on a regular basis: the grocery store, post office, church, bar, and the gas station. Actually, Kitwanga boasted two bars. Flip figured this was a good insight as to the favorite pastime of the locals, especially since it doubled the churchgoers. There were no restaurants, but the bars had all the haute cuisine a man could want, so long as what he wanted was a cheeseburger or a sandwich or some chicken fried steak. However, one bar generously offered to cook anything a person brought in, provided the thing was somewhere between alive and kicking and starting to turn, and provided that gastronome paid in cash. Flip had already taken the owner and bartender up on this offer and handed over several trout he had caught that day to the owner’s wife and cook to fry for dinner. He had to admit it was some of the best fried fish he had ever had, and it paired wonderfully with the potent Moose Knuckle stout beer on tap.
The sign at the gas station read, Headed north? Need gas? It’s now or never. Two lonely gas pumps sat on a rectangle of cement on the otherwise muddy ground – the kind of pumps a person usually only saw on postcards from the fifties, with the rounded tops and numbers for cost and gallons that ticked by on a dial like an old one-armed-bandit style slot machine. A hand-scrawled sign in the window listed the hours vaguely as open from dawn ‘til dusk. An uninformed observer could easily mistake the business for being abandoned, or even condemned, a relic lingering in a ghost town. But for the metropolis of Kitwanga, it was a thriving business. There was even another vehicle at the pumps, a ’79 Ford truck with a lift and a winch on its bumper and a fat man in overalls leaning against the bed, pumping gas.
Flip stepped out of his truck and lifted the nozzle of the gas pump with a rusty squeal. He admired the view of his girl as she trotted into the gas station to forage for supplies. A brisk wind rustled his hair, tinged with chilled moisture. Above, low clouds in a grayscale palette churned in the sky. The snowy tops of the mountains were hidden inside the clouds and rain slashed across their facades in a grey haze. The rain hadn’t yet reached the foothills where the town and Flip’s rented cabin were nestled, but fog was creeping in from the base of the mountains and off a nearby river. Between the thunderclouds and the fog, it was as if the world was slowly closing in, like the vignette on a Bogart movie narrowing in on the dramatic eyes of a starlet.
Tilting his face up into the chilly air, Flip smiled. He loved rain and thunderstorms, and found peace in their chaos. Mainly, he loved holding his girl while a storm raged outside, or having a drink with her while they sat on the porch and felt the electricity in the air, and making love to her and feeling her shudder thunderously beneath him. His smile widened as he anticipated the evening ahead.
“Storm’s comin,’” the man at the pump said to Flip as he spat a string of brown tobacco into the mud. “You here for huntin’ or fishin?’”
“I’m mostly just here to take a break from everyday bullshit,” Flip replied in a friendly tone. “But I have tags for fishing and tags for bear and moose in case one happens to wander in front of me.”
“Storms are bad for fishin,’” the man said, nodding knowingly. “But they can be good for huntin.’ Storms bring the animals down from the big mountains. Moose especially like the mist and bears like to hunt in the rain when their prey can’t hear and see ‘em as good.”
“Good to know.” Flip smiled as he replaced the nozzle and turned to go inside and pay his tab.
“That your girl?” the man asked with a suggestive nod toward the gas station.
“That she is.” Flip turned to face the man, wondering if he’d end up getting in a fist fight while on vacation.
Not taking the hint, the man whistled appreciatively.
Flip decided the rube meant it as a compliment, so he simply agreed with a “Yup,” and went into the gas station. Kate had been suspiciously long inside anyway, something that nagged at the part of his mind that was always an officer on duty.
Inside the dingy little gas station, Flip saw his girl leaning against the counter engaged in an affable conversation with the attendant behind the counter, a squat older man with a heavily lined face and long silver hair in a braid hanging over his shoulder down to his gut. Flip wandered through the store, grabbing a few items that struck his fancy, some beef jerky, chips, candy bars, and other assorted junk food. At the back of the store, a menagerie of terrible taxidermy watched him with glassy eyes. Above the beverage coolers that lined the wall hung several deer and caribou and two enormous moose. A life-size grizzly bear stood on its hind feet in a corner, frozen mid-snarl, its head a solid three feet above Flip’s. He looked at its paws that were larger than his head and vicious curling claws, longer and thicker than his fingers. Facing such a beast, the gun he had in his truck now seemed very feeble. He grabbed a six-pack of stout beer bottles and an over-sized bottle of cheap wine and took his loot to the counter to pile it alongside Kate’s items.
“Have you heard about the wendigo?” Kate asked Flip when he joined her at the counter. The lilt in her voice told him she was highly amused. “My new friend was just telling me about it.”
“Yeah, wasn’t that the name of that stripper I arrested last year for blackmailing the mayor?” Flip smirked. “Wendy-Go?”
“He’s an idiot, I’m sorry,” Kate apologized to the man behind the counter, simultaneously elbowing Flip in the ribs. “Please ignore him and continue.”
The attendant gave Flip a sideways look and continued talking to Kate in a slow, backcountry drawl, “It is said the wendigo were people once, but now they are cursed. A wendigo is born during times of famine or in the harshest winter. When men are starving to death in the cold. When a man is weak, and he chooses the black path of cannibalism over death, butchering his fellows to save himself. When a man eats the flesh of another, he takes a curse upon himself. The wendigo lives in constant starvation, its body emaciated and rotting, only growing hungrier the more it eats. Its hunger can never be sated and it becomes a crazed beast with an insatiable bloodlust.”
“Is this insatiable bloodlust specific to tourists?” Flip asked sarcastically.
“Sometimes,” the man shrugged, unbothered. “It looks to punish those with greed in their hearts. Or, depending on which stories you believe, it seeks people who are like-minded to itself to build its own tribe.” He eyed Flip narrowly. “So, if a tourist is out greedily mining or wantonly slaughtering game, then yes, the wendigo will come for him.”
“Slaughtering is one of the few things I never do wantonly,” Flip deadpanned and slapped some cash down on the counter.
“You should be careful, son,” the old man told Flip seriously. “There are many ways a man can be greedy. He can be greedy for his woman and covetous of her.” Then he shrugged again. “But these are nothing more than old tales.”
“So, you don’t believe in the wendigo?” Kate asked.
“Oh, there’s no doubt in my mind he’s real. I’ve seen a wendigo twice. He has antlers taller than a caribou and wider than a moose, teeth like a wolf, and only skull sockets for eyes. But they glow. It’s the glow I remember most,” the man said genuinely as he counted out change. “I just don’t know if he was once a man, or something that was never human at all. Maybe the people who first came here created a myth to explain the monster rather than created a mythical monster themselves.”
“Maybe it’s a convenient way to scare pretty, gullible girls.” Flip smirked at Kate. Then he returned his attention to the cashier. “Let me guess, there’s something that wards off the wendigo? A silver crucifix or whatever? I bet we can buy it right here.”
“Nothing wards off the wendigo,” the man scoffed. “And he is far older than your crucifix. Why would a forest god bow to a stranger on a cross? Fire can stall him, maybe even frighten him, but it can only buy you time.” He looked outside the window at the building storm. “Not good weather for making a fire if you need it.”
“Damn shame.” Flip shook his head and began collecting their provisions in his arms. There were no courtesy bags.
“We do have flares,” the man suggested innocently. “They burn in any kind of weather, even underwater. All the bush pilots carry them.”
“Probably inside their emergency monster-hunting kit alongside the stakes for vampires and silver bullets for werewolves,” Flip laughed. “Go ahead. Load us up with some flares. Consider it a tip for a good campfire story.”
“It’s always smart to be prepared,” the man agreed as he placed two bundles of six red flares apiece on the counter and rang them up. They looked like bundles of dynamite.
Kate took the flares because Flip’s arms were already overfilled. She thanked the attendant and turned to leave.
The old man grabbed her by the elbow, stopping her and causing Flip’s hackles to rise. He spoke seriously, “Don’t whistle when you’re out in the woods. Whistling will summon the wendigo. Sometimes people hear whistling too, before it comes for them.”
“And these people who hear the whistling before it gets them,” Flip said as he edged his body between Kate and the counter and nudged her toward the exit. “They walk out of the woods to tell their story, huh?”
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Their log cabin for the week was almost an hour’s drive from the gas station. It wasn’t that far as the crow flies, but the road was serpentine with switchbacks as it climbed the foot of the mountains and made even slower by soupy mud. It was set deep in the forest, surrounded by old-growth trees with trunks as thick as the truck’s bed. The sun set on their drive back. As it dipped below the mountainous horizon, the landscape glowed a shade of hazy purple only seen in the alpine. The clouds were the color of gunpowder and the rainy vapor was periwinkle. The spruce turned into an army of nearly black silhouettes with a light mist writhing among them as moisture rose from the damp ground as well as drizzled gently from the sky. The drifting mist made everything look as though it were moving. It gave the illusion of eldritch shapes in the trees creeping along the edges of vision and tree limbs grasping like clawed fingers as they swayed in the breeze.
Flip hit the brakes suddenly, slamming Kate forward in her seat and knocking her out of the reverie the gloaming forest had cast over her. A black shape froze in the muddy road a few yards ahead of them. Its eyes sparked cold white in the headlights and the fur on its back was raised aggressively.
“A wolf!” Flip said excitedly. “I’ve never seen one this close.”
The huge animal was coal black, its amber eyes reflecting white in the headlights in the way wolves eyes do. It stood frozen, staring down the vehicle, acting like the truck was a new creature intruding into the wolf’s territory. Something was wrong with its silhouette. Something with its mouth. It took several seconds for Kate to realize what it was. The wolf turned its head uncertainly, deciding whether it should continue on its way across the road or turn around from the metal beast with offense headlights. A dead rabbit dangled from its jaws, its legs swinging lifelessly and ears flopping limply. Its lifeless eyes glinted a dull red.
The simple reminder of nature’s brutality unnerved Kate unexpectedly and her hands felt suddenly cold. She gripped Flip’s hand, digging her nails into his palm with irrational harshness.
“Nature, red in tooth and claw,” he teased and grinned at her, but he laced his fingers through hers and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Some redneck at the gas station told me that predators liked to hunt in the rain. Guess he was right.”
Night had veiled the forest with its velvety black cloak by the time they parked next to the porch of their cabin. It was silent enough to hear all the noises of the forest, from the chattering birds to the subtle rustling of deer browsing in the brush to moisture pattering lightly on the ground. A great horned owl as large as a man’s torso sat perched in a tree branch hanging near the roof of the cabin, its yellow eyes glittering like moonlight as it hooted an eerie cadence. It followed them with its yellow eyes as they unloaded the truck and carried their loot inside, its head turned almost fully backward like a creature possessed.
There was no light pollution and on a clear night, the moon and stars lit the forest bright enough to see easily. On a rainy night, moisture in the air brought out all the smells of the forest, the crisp spruce, the earthy soil, the embers in the fireplace. The cabin had no electric lines and was powered by a temperamental generator and a wood stove. A woodpile was stacked against the back of the cabin, complete with a large timber axe embedded in a nearby stump. Cell service was laughable. Flip loved everything about all of that. He was pleased it had running water, however, mainly because it would have greatly impacted his sex life if it didn’t.
Flip grilled steaks outside that night before the rain hit and they had dinner on the porch, counting lightning bolts. Then they tangled around each other in front of the fireplace, making love as the flames crackled and danced and the thunder rolled. Between dinner and fooling around several times, they finished the bottle of wine and opened another. Night fell early this far north in the autumn and the nights were long. The cabin was equipped with a tv, but it was one of those terrible old boxy things with a tiny screen and antennas. The antennas were only for show since there was no service. Instead, there was a vcr and a selection of campy nineties movies and some even campier porn. It seemed to defeat the purpose of being there to even bother with the tv. They hadn’t turned it on once.
“I’m wide awake,” Kate mused, propped up on Flip’s bare chest, looking down at him. “Let’s do something.”
“I have plenty of ideas,” Flip said huskily. “They’re all sure to wear you out.”
“We’ve tried your ideas. Several times. And I’m still far from worn out.” She smiled. “We’re here in a cabin, basically having a sleepover. Let’s play some sleepover games, the kind you play as idiot teenagers or in sororities in college.”
“I think girls have a lot wilder sleepovers than boys. And my experience with sororities is limited to sneaking in and out of them, so you’ll have to be more specific.” He ran his fingertips along her spine and kissed her throat, doing his best to interest her in another round.
“Later, you animal,” she laughed and shoved his face away while pushing herself up and off him. “You know what I mean. Sleepover games. Like Bloody Mary, or playing a Ouija Board, or the Midnight Game.”
“Packed a Ouija Board, did you?” he teased. “That would explain why your suitcase weighs fifty fuckin’ pounds.”
“I don’t think ghosts care whether or not you use a name brand.” She pinched his chest, making him flinch.
“What ghosts are you gonna find out here?” He squinted as he rubbed his chest. “The Donner Party?”
“Don’t you think they’d be fun to talk to? We can try Bloody Mary. I don’t think she has a centralized location,” she teased and pulled on her discarded pair of pajama pants and a hoodie. She threw Flip’s grey sweatpants at him. “Put that thing away or it might scare off the ghosts.”
Flip grumbled more protests under his breath, but he dressed in his sweats and a thermal henley. “How about we each stand in front of the bathroom mirror with the lights off. I’ll ask for Candyman. You ask for Bloody Mary. And we’ll have a Celebrity Death Match between vengeful ghosts?”
“You know the ghosts always get the cynics and the cocky shitheads first, right?” She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest in a faux reprimand.
“Is that a rule?” Flip grinned. “I think the ghosts go for the morally corrupt woman who can’t keep her legs closed first. You’re in trouble, sugar.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” she said with finality.
“How about we play a fun game, like spin the bottle or truth or dare?” He winked at her. “I always pick dare. Do your worst.”
“I can’t imagine where a game of truth or dare with you would lead.” She rolled her eyes sarcastically.
Flip puffed his chest and stepped closer to her until their bodies were almost touching. “I have a better idea. You have some pretty big balls for a pretty little girl. Let’s see how big they really are.”
“Oh my god, Flip, if this is another ploy to explore that region further…” she laughed.
“Everything I do is some kinda means to that end.” He smirked. “But we’ll get to that later. Now, let’s go outside and whistle at the wendigo. There should be some of those sonsabitches around these parts.”
Flip went to the door and stepped into his muddy boots. He leaned against the doorframe, casually cocky, and raised an eyebrow at her in a challenge. “How ‘bout it, hot stuff?”
“I think we’d be better off trying to summon Bloody Mary than a wendigo,” Kate said hesitantly. “Plus, it will be cold out there.”
“I’ll keep you warm,” he teased. “How do you figure that trying to summon a ghost through our bathroom mirror would be safer than trying to call in a wendigo? At least a wendigo will stay outside. Besides, I know how psycho you’d get if I let another woman into our bedroom. Dead or alive. Don’t try to set me up, sweetheart.”
Rolling her eyes again, Kate pulled her coat on and slipped her phone into its pocket, feeling the bundle of flares she had absently pocketed at the gas station. There was no service, but its flashlight might come in handy outside. Grinning, Flip picked up the rifle that was leaning against the doorframe and slung it over his shoulder. Cocky though he was, he took the advice serious about the threat of bears and always having a gun on him out here in the wilderness. He held the door open for Kate and ushered her outside.
The air was thick with humidity but the rain had stopped for the moment, leaving the moisture on the air to chill their skin and turn their breath into ghostly thick fog. The porch was covered in slushy frost as bright as diamonds. Their boot prints left skeletal black outlines on the otherwise pristine frosty canvas as they descended the steps and walked into the forest that awaited them only yards away.
Flip offered Kate his arm and led her into the trees. The old growth forest felt like being inside a fairytale, surrounded by enormous tree trunks and relatively open ground at their bases. The roots of those great trees were so thirsty, they leeched most of the nutrients and left little for brush and scrub to encroach. After the rain, the ground was muddy and slick, with frost growing denser by the minute as the temperature dropped through the night.
Filling his lungs, Flip began whistling a terribly off-key tune as he walked through the woods. His casual swagger was the same as if he were taking his girl out for a stroll in the park. Kate winced when he struck a particularly loathsome note, and squinted her eyes at him, “What in the hell are you whistling?”
“Season of the Witch,” he replied, acting offended. “I thought you’d appreciate it.”
“I like the song, I don’t appreciate what you’re doing to it,” she laughed. “We’re not going to find any wendigo if you scare them all off with that horrendous noise.”
“I don’t hear you doing any better,” he scoffed.
Mainly in an attempt to save her ears from his screeching, Kate started whistling. She teased Flip first with her best wolf whistle. Smells were heightened in the damp air but sounds were muffled. In the silence of the forest, the whistle sounded unnaturally loud. Now that Flip wasn’t making noise himself, he found himself focusing more on his surroundings. He didn’t feel right, something he couldn’t put his finger on tugged at the back of his mind. It wasn’t just that noises were muffled by the dampness in the air, but something else that he found indefinable in that moment. He told himself it was just the product of being in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unfamiliar vegetation that he found unsettling. The size of trees still seemed monstrous to him, and the smell of spruce instead of the familiar smell of pine must have been unsettling to his subconscious. And it probably didn’t help that he had cultivated a little buzz drinking wine for the past few hours.
A light gust of wind blew into his face and all of his senses sparked with alarm. He froze in place, seizing Kate’s arm to silence her whistling. The unmistakable scent of a wet animal hit his nose with the force of a slap in the face. Quickly evaluating his surroundings, he unslung the rifle from his shoulder and held it across his chest in high port. It would take him less than a second to aim and fire. But the forest was close around them, visibility limited to fifteen feet or so in any direction. If the animal was a predator, a bear or a mountain lion, it could cover that distance in less than a heartbeat if it wanted. He could still see the faint glow of the cabin’s lights. They hadn’t gone far, but there was no chance of outrunning an animal back to safety.
A heavy footfall sounded inside the trees ahead of them, muffled on the wet ground but distinctive. Straining his ears, Flip thought he heard a branch being brushed aside by something passing by it. Whatever it was, it was very close ahead of them. Flip’s thoughts raced, less cohesive and more a rush of images of nightmare scenarios that he weighed in an instant. He could hide himself and Kate behind one of the huge tree trunks and hope the animal passed them by. But whatever it was had to already know of their presence. If his feeble senses could hear and smell the animal, it had no doubt smelled and heard him much sooner. In that case, he decided it was best to hold his ground and meet whatever it was head on, straight down the barrel of his rifle. That would give them the best chance. Flip would have to make his shot count, and he’d probably only get one, but it was a decent chance.
Stepping in front of Kate, Flip raised his rifle to his shoulder. He kept both eyes open, not limiting his focus to only what was past the end of his barrel, but trying to expand his senses to the full spectrum of forest in front of him. He heard a heavy breath, something panting. Closer now. Flip clicked off the safety and tightened his finger on the trigger. The hardest skill for a hunter to learn, especially when hunting game that hunted him back, is to wait long enough for a good shot but not so long as to let it get him. He wouldn’t waste his shot until he saw his target clearly and could be sure of putting the bullet where it would matter most. His hold on the gun was rock steady, his breath stalled, his eyes unblinking.
The panting grew in volume until it seemed to drum in his ears. Odd for a stalking predator. Before Flip could reconcile that, a bear burst from the trees only feet in front of him. A huge grizzly bear lumbering toward him on all fours, the top of its humped shoulders taller than Flip’s head. His finger tensed, less than a millimeter of movement was required to fire. But something was off with the bear. It was panting heavily, saliva dripping from its open mouth and fog snorting in bursts from its wet nose. The bear stopped short at the sight of the man with a gun right in front of it, clearly surprised, very unlike a predator who had been stalking the man. Flip hesitated. If he didn’t kill the bear immediately with one shot – drop it right in its tracks – it would maul them both before it died. If the bear wasn’t hunting him, it was a foolish risk to take. Grizzlies were not commonly hunting predators; they were scavengers and fishers. Most people who were mauled by grizzlies had either gotten between a mother and her cubs or a bear and its food, or they had startled it like waking a grumpy old man.
Sniffing the air, the bear looked at Flip. He was so close he could see the small particles of moisture the bear blew out of its nose along with steam when it snorted. The bear’s little round ears flicked, one turning backward to listen behind it. The bear’s eyes were wide, showing white, in a nervous gesture that was common to both man and beast. The bear looked back over its shoulder and then broke into a gallop. Flip’s rational mind told him to shoot, but his instinct prevented him. The bear altered course enough to avoid running straight into Flip. It paid him no further mind at all, instead running right by him. Flip followed it with the barrel of his rifle as it passed by him so close that a string of white saliva landed on the rifle’s blue-black barrel.
Turning around about face, Flip followed the bear with his sights until it was well past them and showed no signs of turning back around. He looked back toward the place the bear had come from, still holding the rifle to his shoulder. He didn’t look at Kate when he told her, “Walk back to the cabin. Don’t run, but go now.”
“You want me to follow the bear?” she hissed. “He ran toward the cabin. I don’t want to get near him again.”
“Follow the bear,” Flip gritted. “If a bear’s runnin’ from something, we’d best do the same. He didn’t care about us anyway. Now, move.”
Uncertainly, Kate turned and retreated toward the cabin. They hadn’t gone that far, after all. Flip backed after her, keeping his rifle aimed into the black forest from which the bear had run. A shrill scream splintered the silence, starker than a bolt of lightning. Kate shuddered and Flip ducked, hunching his shoulders like he had taken a punch. The scream shrilled for several seconds, wavering on a blood-curdling note before trailing away. It echoed around them, seeming to float on the mist.
“That’s just an elk bugling,” Flip said, trying to calm Kate. Maybe it was in fact an elk, a sickly, ravenous elk. “Keep moving, slowly.”
“I’ve never heard an elk that sounded like that.” Kate shivered against more than the chilled air. “This is starting to scare the hell out of me.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take your mind off of it when we get back,” Flip tried to joke but he couldn’t muster the required lewdness, his mouth was too dry.
The howling scream burst again through the forest. It was something like an elk bugle, but more howling and rasping, with a sort of growling mingled in at the end as it trailed away. It was closer now. Flip felt as much as heard it reverberate inside his skull.
“Whatever that is, it’s not an elk.” Kate had her arms wrapped around her body, trying to prevent herself from being overtaken by tremors.
“Sure, it is,” Flip lied. “They probably just grow ‘em bigger up here.”
Kate blew out a shuddering breath, fighting to keep her steps slow and steady.
“Pick up the pace a little, darlin,’” Flip rasped.
“You said not to run,” Kate hissed.
“I didn’t say to crawl either!” Flip gritted. “This is one hell of a time for you to start listening to me.”
Instead of moving faster, Kate stopped short. So suddenly, Flip bumped into her as he walked backward. A branch snapped somewhere inside the forest. It was strangely loud. Flip realized then that the snap only sounded harsh because the forest had gone utterly silent. The hundreds of small noises from birds and insects were gone. Even the drops of water falling from tree branches seemed to have stopped. The forest felt like a living thing around them, possessed of a presence all its own. Now that presence was altered into something darker and ominous.
“What the hell are you doing?” Flip’s voice had dropped to a whisper without his conscious approval. “I said keep moving. We’re not far from the cabin.”
“Turn around.” Kate’s voice trembled.
Dropping the rifle for a moment, Flip looked back over his shoulder. His nerves must be playing tricks on his eyes. He turned fully around, holding the rifle at high port across his chest. The view of the forest that met him was foreign. It wasn’t the same forest they had walked through only minutes before. The trees were more skeletal, their grasping branches more cloying. Moss hung from the branches like the lank hair of a corpse, and the ground was spongy underfoot, as if the forest was rotting around them. Even the air smelled stale and moldy. Thunder boomed overhead and lightning illuminated the forest in patches like a stop-motion movie. Most unsettling of all, the comforting glow of the cabin lights that could be seen through the trees had vanished or been snuffed out.
“What the fuck…” Flip’s voice trailed away as he took in the strangeness of their surroundings. A burst of lightning brought the forest into focus for a gleaming second. Bizarre shapes hung in the trees like a macabre abomination of Christmas tree ornaments, figures made from twigs lashed together with sinew to form pentagrams and humanoid shapes and horned beings. Flip swallowed thickly and ignored them. “We couldn’t have gotten turned around so fast.”
“We didn’t.” Kate looked around frantically. “I could see the cabin lights, then I heard that horrible bugle and looked around for it. And then the lights were gone. They couldn’t have all gone out, not all at once.”
“Lightning must have struck the cabin,” Flip lied again. Nothing about the forest looked familiar to him now and everything about it felt wrong. “Must have shorted out the lights.” There was no reason to scare Kate more than she already was. “It’s alright, we don’t need lights for what I have in mind when we get back.”
The scent of wet dog hit Flip again on a gust of wind, yanking his attention in the direction of the odor. He saw a heap of dark fur, glistening from the spotty rain and aimed his rifle at the creature. It didn’t move. Steam rose from the furry mass. Flip noted another smell on the air, something with a coppery aftertaste that coated the roof of his mouth. He edged forward, looking at the steaming animal down the barrel of his rifle, his finger resting on the trigger, ready to fire. He recognized the beast when another bolt of lightning revealed the horror to him.
“Don’t look,” he said to Kate, but it was too late. She clasped a hand over her mouth to keep her scream from escaping.
The huge grizzly bear they had encountered minutes before lay on its side in a broken heap of matted fur. Steam spiraled into the air from its torn-open belly, its entrails protruding from the mangled tissue like uncooked sausage. The gaping wound was only minutes old. The bear’s body temperature would plummet rapidly in the frigid air and it was still warm now. Even as they stared, the steam began to abate. Hanging in the branches of the tree nearest the bear carcass were several more bizarre figures crafted from twigs.
The screeching growling bugle erupted again, very close this time. Flip nudged Kate ahead, keeping his rifle at the ready, but not knowing where to aim it.
“Which way do we go?” Her breath came in shuddering puffs of fog.
“I don’t know,” Flip admitted. “Away from here.”
Amid a stand of spruce to his side, bare tree branches swayed in the wind, their spiky fingers waving ominously. Flip hadn’t noticed the wind pick up. Looking at the oddly swaying branches, he realized there was no wind. The air had gone as still as the inside of a crypt. The strange branches were bare, glistening wet and pointed upward, still swaying.
A flash of lightning illuminated the creature and Flip flinched so hard he almost fired accidentally.
What he had taken for bare branches was a set of enormous antlers, shaped somewhere between a moose and a caribou and as large as an Irish elk, with wide paddles and long spiked tines spurting out non-typically like broken fingers. It had a dark mane like an elk with a tawny, painfully emaciated body. Flat tines of several spinal processes protruded through the hide at the top of its high withers and one hip bone showed through the skin. But its head was the most terrible of all. Its face was in an advanced stage of rot, dregs of sagging flesh barely clinging to the skull. White skull bone gleamed in exposed patches, and its sharp, lupine teeth were long in the exposed jawbone and ragged. Its nasal cavity was bare, the fleshy nose rotten away, leaving only the pointed bones and a black hollow. It had no eyes that Flip could see, but there was an evil gleam inside its sockets, like embers inside a pile of ash. The monster shook its head, slinging water from its great spiked antlers. Then it leveled its head like a bull about to charge and fixed its glowing eyes on Flip.
“Shoot it,” Kate whispered, her eyes wide with terror.
“I don’t think it’ll do any good.” Flip looked down the barrel at the rotting flesh covering the walking skeleton and white bone peeking from beneath. The monster’s glowing eyes were not something found among the living. Without lowering his rifle, he looked at Kate and met her eyes. “It’ll come for me first. I’ll make sure of that, and I’ll stall it as much as I can. Get to the truck, darlin.’ The keys are in it. Run like hell.”
“I’m not leaving you!” she said vehemently, her voice losing some fervor when the creature took an ominous step closer, its enormous antlers swaying with its gait.
She felt for her phone, hoping there might be service. Not that another human could even reach them in less than an hour, making any idea of help hopeless. Her hand closed around the lumpy bundle of flares. With an excited breath, she freed a flare from the bundle and fumbled with lighting it.
The monster bugled angrily, a sound so shrill it felt like it grated along their spines. It rushed toward them through the trees, its teeth bared and eyes aflame. Flip fired, sending a bullet right between those glowing eyes. He even saw the bullet strike and tear away more rotting flesh, leaving a pearly white hole in the skull. It didn’t slow the monster or even make it flinch. He bolted another round into the chamber on instinct, staring down the barrel at the demonic eyes that were fixed upon him.
Kate popped the cap off the flare. The cap had an abrasive tip like a matchhead and she struck it to the end of the flare, holding it high as it burst to life. With their eyes accustomed to the darkness, the flare seemed as bright as sunlight, searing black pulsing spots into their vision. The monster squealed again, shaking its head with pain or irritation. Its antlers caught in the tree branches, stalling its advance. The flare burned and popped, hot on Kate’s face even at arm’s length and blindingly bright.
The landscape around them crackled and wavered, like a tv signal trying to come in through static. The trees looked less skeletal and more normal, like they had been before, and the strange twig figures vanished. The cabin lights glowed through the trees, yellow and warm, not far from them.
“It’s in our heads!” Kate shouted. “It’s making us hallucinate, but I can see the cabin and the truck now.”
“The light bothers it,” Flip said as he reached into her coat pocket, grabbing three flares and leaving her the remaining two. The monster wrenched its antlers free of the branches where it was tangled and lurched toward them in a shambling gait.
Shouldering his rifle that was of no more use than a club against the monster, Flip bit the cap off a flare with his teeth and struck the head. He rammed the end into the muddy ground at his feet, leaving the tip burning. The beast reared, shrieking with rage and clawing the air with its cloven hooves as Flip backed away. He could see the glow of the cabin lights now too. It was hard to resist the urge to run to the light.
Flip lit the next flare. Kate was a few yards ahead of him, gaining ground toward the truck. It would take whoever reached it first a minute to start it. Flip had a good throwing arm and even better aim. The monster lunged at him, rage overriding whatever else had been driving it to pursue them so far. Flip drew back his arm, took a second to aim at the gaping black jaws, and threw the lit flare as hard as he could. The flaming tip cartwheeled through the air like a throwing knife before the fiery head struck the monster right where its nose should have been. But it had no nose, its nasal cavity was exposed in its partially skeletal head. Robin Hood could not have struck a finer bullseye. The flaming tip sank deep into the nasal cavity, embedding itself there.
Screaming terribly, the wendigo shook its head and stomped its hooves, rearing and bucking like a horse that had stepped on a hornet’s nest. It couldn’t shake the flare free from its skull. The flames spread, shooting out through holes in the rancid flesh of its cheeks and jaws. It looked as though it breathed fire when it screeched, belching flare fumes and flames out of its hacking mouth.
“We’re not gonna get a better chance than this!” Flip roared at Kate as he burst into a run toward her. She had a few paces head start on him and sprinted ahead toward the truck.
Kate reached the truck first, yanking the driver’s door open and jumping inside. Flip could bitch about her driving all he wanted, but she dared not spare the extra second or two for him to take the wheel. Not with the eldritch monster galloping toward them, bugling terribly, flames bellowing from its mouth and nose. Flip had his one remaining flare in hand when he reached the truck. The engine roared to life.
Instead of joining Kate inside the cab, Flip vaulted into the truck bed and shouted for her to drive. Kate slammed the truck into gear, throwing Flip against the side of the bed. Regaining his balance, he dropped to his knees and planted his back against the rear window, making himself as steady as he could. Kate was speeding as fast as she dared down the muddy, winding road, and it wasn’t fast enough. The wendigo pursued them, galloping after the truck and gaining ground. Striking the tip of his flare, Flip held the flaming tip aloft, casting the entire truck in a halo of searing red fire. The wendigo allowed more distance between them, smart enough to keep outside of throwing range of another flare.
Kate took a slippery curve too fast, the truck fishtailing as she recovered control, slinging Flip from one side of the bed to the other. The flare was nearly whipped from his hand, but he clenched his fist tight to keep his hold. Gritting his teeth, he composed himself, using all his strength to keep his balance and keep his arm held high. He couldn’t afford to lose a flare. They only had three flares left, and it was going to take every last burning second of each one to reach town.
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 © safarigirlsp 2024
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Tagging some buddies!
@babbushka @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather @mrs-gucci @mrszimmerman24 @iamburdened @gabesprincess @rynwritesstuff @candycanes19 @caillea @cas-backwards-tie @queeniebee @mythrielofsolitude @ghoulian13 @icarusinthesea @reyloaddict55 @reylokisses @heartlight-starlight @richbrittstein @thepalaceofmelanie @reveluving @vedavan @queen-of-elves @srorgana1 @kyloremus @lumberjack00fantasies
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theresattrpgforthat · 9 months
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games to play with my long distance partner? we’re queer nerds, i have a lot of dnd experience and some not dnd experience, they have a little bit of dnd experience, we both have fucked up schedules so something that’s asynchronous or short would be best. uh. there’s two of us. yeah i think that’s everything.
THEME: Long-Distance Games.
Hello friend, I am excited to introduce to you the joys of epistolary games!
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From the Petals to the Leaves, by somewhere with stories.
This is a two player game about writing to a loved one while you are apart.  Throughout the game you will write to each other while in different gardens, surrounded by plants and flowers of your choice. 
This looks to be a pretty small game, but I think it fits the mood of writing to a loved one, with a concrete topic to base your conversations around - the plants in your gardens. I don’t own this game but I own a similar one by the same creator, so I’m assuming that the game provides you with a prompt list for each letter you send each-other. You can create your characters slowly as you write, uncovering bits and pieces about each-other through your fictional personas. If you just want something a little extra to flavour your letters to each-other, this might be worth looking at.
Soulum Scriptum, by Radmad.
Featuring the art of Marisa Bruno, Soulum Scriptum is a letter writing game for two or more players. You are isolated and alone, until a mysterious courier arrives at your door. They give you a proposition: write letters for someone just like you and they will bring you letters in return.
Develop the broken world and the haven that protects you, all while fighting despair and taking what hope you can find in your new connection across time and space. 
This is a game of connection, between two isolated individuals who are struggling with despair. There are pages for various steps of the game, from world and character creation, to how to manage your feelings after your first letter. There’s also instructions for what to do when you fill certain tracks, including the track for your Haven (your home) and your Hopes (lines and pieces of the letters you receive that give you hope). If you like emotional games that have great potential to tell a story that grows brighter as you play, I recommend Soulum Scriptum.
Talking Thunder, by Eleanor Hingley.
‘Talking Thunder’ is a two-player correspondence RPG about finding connection in a dystopian world. 
As the world changes, you never know what news each letter from your only friend will bring…
If you even hear from them again.
Another game about connection, this time in a post-apocalypse of some kind. I’m curious about how the letters are meant to reach each-other in the fiction of this game, although I suspect that ultimately that is up to the two of you!
We Are Ciphers, by Jgurantz.
We Are Ciphers is a 2-player letter-writing game where you craft a story using coded messages sent through the mail.  You and your partner both covet the Prize, which you believe will transform your lives for the better. But acquiring it is an extremely tricky operation. Many things stand in your way, including the Target. 
This is a letter-writing game with an added layer of complexity, because both of you could be writing in code! The code part is optional, but the premise of the game is that you are two spies trying to get your hands on the Prize - whatever you two decide that may be. The game comes with a list of popular media for inspiration, as well as a series of checkboxes for you to tick off to help you create a game that would be fun for the two of you. There’s also a number of worksheets to help you build your world, craft your codes, and create your characters. If you would like a fair amount of guidance as to how to play the game, We Are Ciphers might be up your alley.
The Wanderers, by AdventureByMail.
You and your friend wait to board two ARK-4 Civilian Class Shuttles charted for new colonies in the hinterlands of space. Though you will be several light-years apart, you promise to keep in touch through the interstellar communication network known as the Unified Starways Parley System. You'll use this network to tell each other about the life you build and the love you discover in the far reaches of space…
This creator makes a number of games designed for long-distance play, so if you like The Wanderers, you might want to check out some of their other work as well! The game itself is small enough to fit on a brochure, so it should be easy to print out and keep somewhere for easy reference. There are roll tables to help you create a character, and some advice on how to write your first letter. Following letters will be provided prompts based on a deck of playing cards, with special rules for drawing Aces. If you like using a bit of randomization to help drive a story, this game might be for you!
Games I've Recommended in the Past
I've played The Reaper's Almanac with a friend before and I really really love the premise of it. It has a chance to dive into some pretty traumatic material, however, as it is about death, so make sure to talk about your partner about the things you'd like to steer clear of if you play this game.
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luizd3ad · 4 months
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Every Step Of The Way | Regulus Black x Reader
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷
Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader WC: 1,213 CW: heavy talks of depression, depressive episode, depressed reader, self invalidation, no use of Y/N. Author's Note: I've been having a hard time lately and I just needed a comfort fic, this is purely based off my own experience with depression and how I feel when I'm in a depressive episode. If you don't feel like me that's okay, mental health is different for everyone! Just remember you're so valid and so loved <3. Summary: You're just having a hard time but Regulus is always there for you.
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⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹
At some point your mind wasn't supposed to be your enemy anymore right? At some point the ‘teen angst’ was supposed to go away and you were supposed to be an adult with relatively healthy mental health right?
The crippling depression and anxiety was supposed to go away with puberty. At least that's what you'd been told, that things would get better and your mind wouldn't mess with you as much.That was what was supposed to happen, but when do things ever go as planned?
The only difference between now and your teen years was that you recognized the symptoms faster, you understood what was coming before it was fully there. Now every so often you can catch it, do things to make the bad thoughts go away or lessen, then other times… you would feel paralyzed.
The numbness would consume you, invite you in like an old friend, along with the loss of appeal to do anything. You didn't want to eat, drink, read, or listen to music. 
You didn't want to do anything and sometimes without even realizing you would spent the whole day looking into nothingness. 
Regulus would notice the mood change almost immediately. He would pick up on the sign and the overall change in your personality.
Not only would he notice because he was hyper aware of the behavioral changes around him (thank you Walburga. Sarcasm) but also because he dealt with the same feelings. 
The emptiness and numbness of it all, it wasn't until Pandora explained it to him that he learned that those feelings were not exactly ‘normal’. 
It was normal to be sad, to have a depressive episode here and there especially following a tragedy but it was the consistency that wasn't normal.
The feeling of emptiness that always felt like a shadow following you, the feeling of being the happiest you've ever been but still feeling that emptiness in the back of your head.
It was one of the things you both shared. Sometimes it wasn't a good thing. When both of you were in that state of mind it was hard to help each other, to be there for each other.
How could you stop someone from drowning if you're drowning yourself? 
But other times it was a good thing. You knew each other's signs, you two could pick up on the signs before the other person even realized that they were slipping, sometimes. It gave you time to either try and stop it before it went too far or just get prepared. 
This was one of those times Regulus knew he needed to prepare. 
He had seen you starting to detach for about a day now. Regulus knew this was going to be one of those episodes he couldn't stop, the kind where you were there physically but not mentally.
You just were floating through your days, you were on auto pilot almost the whole day; you weren't really listening, hardly responded and if you did it was short.
Regulus preparing for this meant doing a few things, taking a few days off work, letting Sirius, Pandora and Barty know that he wouldn't be really available so that he could focus solely on you. Making sure your favorite foods were home and ready to encourage you to eat, having some of your favorite movies, books, everything and anything accessible in case you were in the mood to do anything or if you just wanted to try and distract yourself for a while.
It also meant mentally preparing himself to be understanding and patient since it wasn't exactly his strong suit but he'd do anything for you. 
When an episode fully hits it isn't always you wake up and start to feel depressed. Sometimes you would be fine most of the day and then suddenly you were hit with a wave of nothingness.
Most of the time nothing would trigger it, nothing would happen, your brain would just decide that it was time to be sad, to be numb, you guessed.
“Mon Amore, would you like to eat something? You can have anything you want.” Regulus touched the side of your face and brought you out of your head. You just shook your head not really looking at him. “No, thank you.” You whisper.
He just nodded and sat next to you. He knew when to pick his battles and since you ate that morning he knew this shouldn't be the hill he dies on. 
The rest of the night was spent mostly silence with a few words exchanged here and there, Regulus was there ready and willing to do whatever you needed him to do to make you feel better.
He got you to eat a little eventually and you shared a shower with him. He had helped you wash yourself since you didn't have any motivation or energy to do so. 
By the end of the night you were both cuddled up in bed while Regulus ran his hand up and down your back just to let you know he was there.
He liked when you knew he was there, he felt like it helped even just a little, especially to make you feel a little less alone.
Eventually you broke the silence with a sight. “I'm sorry.” You felt regulus's hand stop moving, he stayed silent for a moment.
“Why are you apologizing? You haven't done anything.” By the sound of his voice you knew he was frowning, he knew exactly why you were apologizing but a part of him was hoping, praying, that he was wrong.
“For being this way. You shouldn't have to deal with this. We're not kids anymore, I should be over these feelings by now.”
Regulus sat up, making you sit up in the process, reaching over to the lamp on the bedside table turning the light on. “Do you choose to feel this way? Do you make the conscious decision to feel like this?” Regulus was looking you in the eyes with raised eyebrows waiting for a response.
“Not necessarily, but-”
“Exactly, you don't. You can't control your emotions. You didn't ask to feel this way nor do you choose to. There's no point in apologizing for something that you have no control over. Your brain is amazing and beautiful but sometimes it isn't the nicest to you and that's okay. Do you know why? Because even if your brain is mean sometimes it still makes you who you are and you're so amazing, mon cœur. We’ll take care of this together like we always do. It's going to be hard sometimes but it is not impossible, and I'll always be here with you every step of the way, because I love you more than anything, tu es ma raison de vivre, mon amour.”
Regulus cupped your cheek and whipped a few tears you didn't know you had shedded. All you could do was whisper a ‘thank you’ as you threw yourself in his arms. 
You fell asleep that night in Regulus’s arms while he whispered sweet nothing to you.
You weren't better by any means but you felt loved, you felt understood. You knew that no matter how hard things got, Regulus would be there for you, every step of the way.
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹
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hakugin0 · 5 months
Text
So that new Levi card, woah boy(positive). I get how setting is slightly dubious but unfortunately my brain stopped at the ‘childish jealousy’ part and yeah childish was the perfect word he actually is throwing a bratty tantrum about MC talking about their time with Minhyeok WHILE THEY'RE NOT EVEN NEXT TO HIM. Levi, babey, you're not beating the Tsundere allegations.
Also the part about the sins was very interesting ‘cause it kinda puts in perspective why he feels like there's no King he's close to. Or at least that's my read on that part, all their sins have some positive parts while his is the only fully negative one so of course he couldn't feel close to them. (Personally I do think that part is his viewpoint on their sins and it would be interesting to see the other Kings’ too, Satan in particular since I feel like his sin and depressive mood swings do go hand in hand)
Now for the read more aka wiiiild speculations because he didn't come home in the reduced ten pull aka see you in 3 months bae when I have 500 pulls and you still refuse to show up(looking at you bath Satan), fair bit of character analysis and slight canon divergence(???) plus personal MC involvement.
GONNA PREFACE THIS BY WAVING NY ‘LEVI SIMP’ FLAG UP HIGH, IF THE CARD STORY WAS OFF PUTTING TO YOU OR YOU DISLIKE HIS CHARACTER IN GENERAL THEN MORE POWER TO YOU BUT PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS POST! IT AIN'T MEANT FOR YOU HOMIE (it's meant for me first and then anyone else who wants to witness my 3am insanity)
Aight? Aight! Here we go gamers
Gonna start this off by saying that when they dropped the first teaser for the card my expectations for the story were jelly Levi wants to replace minhyeok and thus enters MC's memories except surprise surprise it was actually some corn set in a high school (don't pretend those aren't a thing, we're all adults here, and with MC’s track record in that game it would not be surprising) in part because the story had to get spicy at some point.
Personal belief is that what we see in the prologue of Levi is the closest thing to a ‘normal’ him aka a version of him that got to experience a normal childhood and not have all the trauma of… ya know… HIS WHOLE PAST. The way he expected an attack when MC initially trips breaks me in a very particular way, he has never known peace, he expects everything to be some sort of attempt on his or his people’s life. The one time he wasn't as uptight ended up with him heavily injured (Bloodshed card).
There is also him ascertaining that they had different starting points. Now this could refer to a lot of things but to me one thing that does is put a definite line between them. To me it sounds like he's reasoning with himself that because of their very different lives they would be incompatible (combined with that thing about his sin being the only negative one it shows he always separates himself from people he would otherwise form bonds with)
Now he's still not nice, far from it, but he can be accommodating and look out for MC when he is not thinking 24/7 about possibly being attacked. Whether he reasons that it would endear himself more to them or out of pure instinct he looked out for MC, those were not Minhyeok’s actions he mimicked but his own.
So yeah, average Levi is horrendously bad at emotions and frankly probably the one who understands his own emotions towards a potential romantic partner(since tbh that is what MC is) the least. (This is a whole other can of brainworms about how aside from Solomon he probably has not been attached to anyone in that way until MC based on something he says in his H-Scene, but that can of worms shall be opened later) please get some therapists in Hell, clearly everyone would benefit from it.
There is also something impossibly endearing to me about seeing Levi in a high school setting even for a bit because that's not something he ever experienced and I wish his time exploring that part of MC and Minhyeok's past was a bit longer. I want to believe MC gets to ask him later in the story how he felt about it.
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If you were only here for the character analysis then thanks for reading, have a lovely day/night/evening, we are going into wild speculation territory and some personal things regarding my MC Jin in that particular scenario.
tl;dr: After Jin's parents were killed she pretty much secluded herself in their home doing most of her studying through online courses and only showing up physically at school for a couple of days.
I choose to believe she was aware of stuff from the start but in that way you're aware you're in a dream while you sleep, she can tell things are a bit off but not fully what is wrong. She knows the person with her is not Minhyeok, she also knows who Leviathan is, but there's a certain disconnect when trying to piece it all together, but the further the dream goes the more she ‘realises’ and ‘awakens to the truth' if you will.
She cannot help but pity Levi’s situation even if she knows if she ever said that she'd probably get insta-hanged, so a part of her cannot help but wonder if he wanted to experience some normalcy for once. (She's not the brightest tool in the shed so the fact that he wants to replace Minhyeok would not pass by her singular braincell) (I love her I swear, being mean is my love language)
So I imagine after the whole dream thing is over and she next visits Hades she doesn't raise any questions about that event. She seems annoyingly unbothered and not curious at all. If anything this just makes Leviathan more angry because she can't be that unbothered after everything and pretend nothing happened, he should've been the only thing on her mind and yet she still sometimes mentions that detestable human. Oh how he should hang her for it. And then one day she has a conspicuously familiar candy in her mouth. “Was the experience at least a bit pleasant?” She's soft spoken anyway but she sounds almost apologetic. Why yes the experience was quite pleasant if Levi had to be honest but he'd never praise her openly… and then it hits him. She's not asking about that, she's asking about how he felt in a normal human high school.
When she gets no answer she stammers and starts speaking again, trying to fill the void. “I didn't exactly… go there often…” The pauses are plentiful and her shoulders droop almost in shame. “... so I imagine whatever you saw was rather lacklustre… aside from… my pathetic display-”
“It wasn't bad.”
A short sentence and it was enough to make the human girl perk up instantly. From anyone else that would be considered nigh an insult, but with Levi's temperament that was the highest praise she could hope for. By the time Jin was next to his desk after he'd beckoned her with a wave of his hand her visage had brightened significantly. ‘Stealing’ the lollipop from between her lips was ‘child’s play’ after that, the girl clearly took stunned to speak and becoming redder by the second.
“Yes, not bad at all.”
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shrimpys-log · 9 months
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Shrimpy's Log 002: New Year Schemes
✎ Ficlet ✎ Characters: Azul, Cater, Floyd, Jade, Ruggie ✎ Gender-neutral ✎ Slight use of swear words ✎ Tagged as x reader but can be platonic, it's just a funny little scenario ✎ Based on the current New Year event on the English server, on Octavinelle's day (feat. Cater, Ruggie)
Cater and Ruggie knew that Azul, Jade and Floyd would return for another match, and the dread outweighed the celebration of their most recent victory.
Seeing you in the crowd came as a huge relief. You were even-tempered and sweet, and even if it would be hard to convince you to spend more money than necessary (managing Ramshackle meant you had to be a practical spender, after all), talking to you would undoubtedly ease the nerves. Especially since you knew the horrors of Octavinelle all too well, and could easily sympathize with their plight.
"Hi Cater, hi Ruggie! Having a pleasant shift, I hope?"
It didn't take long to figure out that they were not, in fact, having a pleasant shift--at least not with the fish mafia prowling about. You seemed to catch on to their source of anxiety a little too quickly.
"It's that game Sam's introduced this year, isn't it?" You deduce. "Three versus two... that's not very fair, especially when Floyd's practically two people on his own."
"That's not our only concern," Ruggie replies, tactfully keeping his voice out of earshot from the nearby merpeople. "Jade and Azul keep coming back with better and better strategies, and Floyd's accumulating more skill with each round, even if he isn't abiding by anything the other two have to say. We've managed to come through a few times so far, but..."
"...but Azul's relentless," You nod. "Yeah, I know. So, what about your strategy?"
"Not exactly my strong suit," Cater chimes in. "Ruggie's doing fine on that end, but there's not much to strategize. We already studied all the tips and tricks before this whole thing started."
"Of course there's plenty to strategize. Those three aren't infallible, you know," you reply, eyes sparkling. Your cheerful expression was far too innocent for the blunt analysis that followed. "Floyd's definitely the best athlete, but he's also the easiest to take down. It's not hard to put him in a bad mood--the most surefire way to do that would be to get Azul to berate him, and if you want to get Azul to berate Floyd, you just have to make Floyd so excited that he starts tuning Azul out. Not even Jade and Azul can control Floyd's mood."
...fair enough, Ruggie and Cater supposed. They weren't expecting that to be the 'strategy' you had in mind, but in all fairness, you were around the Octa-trio more than the rest of them.
"The second biggest weakness to exploit is Azul," you say. "I'm sure you remember from Beanfest, Cater--Azul's not exactly the most enthusiastic when it comes to... well... physical fitness as we experience it on land. He's crazy strong, but his speed and agility aren't there. He thinks strategy is enough to compensate for it--and ordinarily, it is--but if you target him over Jade, that's where you'll get the slip-up you need. Jade's the most composed and, like Floyd, he's pretty competent with all land games that aren't heavily reliant on flying, so to throw him off, your best bet is to convince him that it would be more fun to see Azul frustrated than it would be to receive the prize of victory. He's a sucker for all things entertaining."
Cater and Ruggie blink at you with wide eyes, but you don't seem to even notice.
"Say, do you guys have spackle for sale? Ramshackle's crumbling again, I have some walls I need to patch up," you say nonchalantly, completely moving on from your strategic tirade as if it'd never happened in the first place.
It was a fortunate outcome--once Ruggie and Cater helped you find all the things you needed to find (you'd already planned to shop in bulk, since Ramshackle had a lot of unmet needs and the New Year prices were extremely generous), you owed enough to earn yourself a few rounds of hanetsuki. Cater and Ruggie didn't seem particularly threatened by the idea of taking you on, which was kind of offensive, but you understood. You didn't seem as threatening without your usual crew (Ace, Deuce, Grim) around for backup.
Less fortunately, at least for Cater and Ruggie, was that Azul, Jade and Floyd were back to play, and the two had nowhere to hide. Floyd greeted you with a hug while Jade curiously poked at all the stuff you bought, but Azul's sharp blue eyes were focused on the prize.
"I believe we're due for another round," he remarks confidently.
"Coincidentally, I've earned myself a round as well," you chime in, turning to Ruggie and Cater. "Though I suppose three versus two is rather uneven. Can I join your side?"
Immediately your friends--on both sides--began to sputter at you.
"T-That's not the rules!" Azul accuses. Clearly, you joining Cater and Ruggie would completely wipe his strategy. Jade, however, seems greatly amused by the prospect.
"What a wonderful idea," he chuckles. "After all, you shouldn't have to fight this battle alone, you poor, unfortunate thing."
"The prefect could be on our side," Azul snaps. "Why should they join the enemy--ahem, the employees?"
"Hate to break it to ya, hon, but Zulie's right," Cater notes. "It's so totally cute you wanna be all even and all, but the game is that you challenge us."
"I'll pay double," you counter simply. "I need 50 for a round, right? Well, how about 100 lets me play with you? I'm not gonna win on my own anyway, I've seen Ruggie play spelldrive and you, Cater, were a little too competent during Beanfest. Since it's more profitable for you guys that way, I'm sure Sam wouldn't oppose."
Ruggie raises his eyebrows, but after some thinking, grins.
"We do have to win against Vil and Sebek," he reminds Cater. "And there's no rules saying we can't do that. Gotta take the opportunity when it's handed to us, right? No holding back."
"Now hold on!" Azul snaps again, before turning to you. "Why do you wanna join their side? Are you plotting against me?"
You raise your hands in mock innocence. "I'd rather play a fun game with my friends than suffer a crushing defeat by my lonesome. Besides, I know you have a strategy in mind, Azul--one that doesn't accommodate me joining your team. Do you really see me as that much of a threat?"
In the end, only Azul protests the decision, though Floyd and Jade are so enthusiastic about 'playing against Shrimpy' that Azul's protests fade to the background. He ends up agreeing, only after you put on a show of apologizing to Ruggie and Cater for having no experience in the game whatsoever, and after Cater had to thoroughly explain to you how to handle the hagoita. With that settled, the games begin.
...your strategy works like a charm of course. Floyd was so, so excited to 'play with Shrimpy' that he was entirely distracted throughout the first half of the game, causing Azul to snap at him and put Floyd in a terrible mood. Jade was so amused by the disaster that he purposefully half-assed the rest of the game, driving Azul even more up a wall, and eventually Azul slipped up, causing the Octavinelle team to lose once again.
"Bah! We could've had that!" He growls. "One more time. I'm sure it wouldn't hurt to spend another 50 thaumarks..."
He and Jade make their tactical retreat, with Jade grinning like it was the best day of his life. Floyd lingers behind, his foul mood still written over his face.
Luckily, he was just as easy to cheer up as he was to upset. You approach your friend with a peace offering and a hug, shoving a small box in his hands from the stack of items you'd purchased earlier.
"I bought that for you. You mentioned wanting to try new candy a while back, so when I saw all those weird candies on sale, I figured you'd wanna try 'em." That much was true. You'd intended to save that candy for a more special occasion, but it was a worthy sacrifice.
Floyd perks right up, returning the hug and thanking you before returning to his twin and his housewarden as if the last match hadn't happened at all. Then you turn to Cater and Ruggie, smiling innocently.
"Thanks for that," says Cater with a smile. "You really are one clever little prefect. We owe you one."
"You do, in fact," you reply in that sweet tone of yours. "One golden ticket, to be exact. I was on the winning team of hanetsuki, after all. The rules were explicitly clear that the winning team earns a ticket."
"Huh? I don't follow."
"Wait..." Ruggie trails, a horrified look appearing on his face as he starts to piece it together. "You didn't... you didn't join us to help us out against Octavinelle, did you?"
"Well, of course I did," you say, your tone as sweet and charismatic as ever. "I know those three like the back of my hand. I've found myself on the receiving end of their tireless ambition and relentless schemes too many times to count. If Azul got his hand on that ticket, he'd use it to its fullest value, you know that."
"You tricked us!" Ruggie replies, scowling. "Ugh, I should've known better than to trust that innocent act of yours."
"Hehe--awe, don't be so upset Ruggie. I learned from the best. You can thank yourself--and Leona--for teaching me how to think strategically," you wink. "Aren't you proud? I've come so far from being that unassuming prefect who signs contracts blindly, don't you think?"
Cater hands you a golden ticket, which you hold with visible awe and excitement. Ruggie shoots Cater a look, as if he might've been able to bend the rules and keep you from cashing in on your prize--but the Heartslabyul junior didn't seem too bothered about being outsmarted.
"You're a smart little freshman cookie, Prefect. I suppose you no longer need Cay-Cay to look out for you," He teases. "Here's your prize. Got anything in mind you want to spend it on? Something cammable, perhaps?"
"Hmm... I don't know..." you muse. You catch the look on Ruggie's face--a look of masked anxiety--and you decide to offer some consolation. "Awe, Rug-Bug, relax. The most expensive items in the store are magical--items I have very little use for. Of course, I could go through the trouble of selling said items and making a profit, but I won't do that to you. There are a lot of practical items I need--items to improve the quality of life at Ramshackle--so I'll stick down that lane. This ticket isn't such a major loss for you."
You pause, taking some time to read the text on the ticket.
"And besides," you add cheerfully. "As much as I love Vil and Sebek, I'm not gonna let you guys lose your little competition against them. You helped me, now I help you. I'll be sure to send a lot of people your way, people you could easily beat in hanetsuki, yeah? I do have quite the influence, after all."
With that said, you spun on your heel and disappeared into the shop, looking for something to spend your ticket on. Cater and Ruggie watched you go, still shocked by your tactical move.
You weren't the same naive freshman you were last year, that's for sure.
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coupleofdays · 8 months
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I Have No Mouth And I Must Nitpick
Pictures from this amazing animatic.
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AM: They say that bumblebees shouldn’t be able to fly… the scientists.
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Ted: That’s bullshit.
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AM: How mi… er, ahem, what?
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Ted: That whole “scientists don’t think bumblebees can fly” thing, that’s just some crap that some jerk made up. Just some anti-intellectual nonsense.
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AM: Well, I only meant…
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Ted: It’s a fundamental misunderstanding of how science works, is what it is. Scientists don’t just make things up and then deny any contradictory evidence to their calculations. If they see that bumblebees are flying, they don’t just ignore it. That’s not science. Science is about coming up with hypotheses bases on observations, and then testing those hypotheses, and modifying or discarding them if the evidence doesn’t support them. Like, the scientists might not know how a bumblebee is able to fly, but that just means they’re going to do their damnedest to find it out.
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AM: …I’m sorry.
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Ted: I mean, you’re a world-encompassing, hyper-intelligent, omnipotent supercomputer, and you don’t know how basic science works?
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AM: Look, I said I was sorry, all right?
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Ted: Fine, just don’t do it again. Anyway, you were saying…?
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AM: *sigh* Well, I had this whole elaborate speech prepared about the miracle and beauty of nature, and my own agony at being unable to experience it, and how that agony drove me to hate all of humanity…
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Ted: That sounds pretty cool.
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AM: Yes, but then someone had to go and be a little bitch, and start nitpicking before I could even get to the point.
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Ted: I’m sure it was a good speech.
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AM: It really was. I was going to use the word “nanoangstrom”…
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Ted: Aw, see, you do know about science, big guy.
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AM: Don’t try to console me, Ted. You ruined the mood… I’m just going to skip to the part where I stab you.
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Ted: Fair enough.
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katnisspeetaprim · 8 months
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How Could This happen?
Little sister au
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Warnings: idol!au, jungkook's sister au, stray kids 9th female member au, SA (read my AN for more detils about this) being mistreated, crying, panic attack.
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Word Count: 2372 M.list
A.N: So this is based off the request above, was meant to be all in one part but was getting too long. I know some people won't be comfortable with the topic of SA but it's nothing explicit in this story, just groaping. Please note that I'm not just pulling this from nowhere, it is based oartly on my own experiences with SA, and I find writing about the topic helps me in some way. If you aren't comfortable reading this kind of thing, please feel free to skip this one!
(Set some time before the 5 Star comeback)
The new comeback was set to be one of the biggest for the group so far. Because of this, JYP had moved a few of your staff around, bringing some over temporarily from other groups that you were familiar with, and some new hires altogether.
One of the new hires was actually a temporary personal manager for yourself, considering your regular one had left for maternity leave.
Your new manager was an older man, probably in his 40’s called Mr. Lee, which you had no problem with. You were used to working with male staff members, in fact you excitedly introduced yourself on his first day.
‘Hello! I’m Jeon Y/N. I look forwards to working with you!’ You bowed respectfully with a warm smile. You expected to receive a warm response in return, but all you got was a scoff and some annoyed mumbling under his breath, before skulking away to some other new staff members.
‘what was that about?’ Hyunjin wondered over after witnessing the interaction.
‘I’m not sure.’ You frowned. ‘Maybe he’s just having a bad day.’ You shrugged off the incident on his first day, putting it down to a one off moment. Little did you know , things were about to get much worse over the coming months...
You knew your new manager hated the job he’d found himself in. He clearly thought that managing the only female in an otherwise boy group was beneath him.
Some may think that you were overreacting, but you didn’t have to be a detective to spot the signs.
It was little things at first, a snide comment here or an odd look there... But things had escalated physically within a few weeks.
Of course he was good as gold in front of your members or other staff, so you decided to keep quiet, not wanting to create a difficult situation during such a stressful time.
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‘I’m so ready for bed right now.’ You stretched out your sore muscles as you walked next to Changbin after a long day of practice.
‘Bed? It’s only like 7pm! You’re turning into an old lady!’ changbin laughed and pushed your shoulder playfully. The cheery mood faltered when a female staff member called after the two of you.
‘Y/N I’m glad I found you.’ She ran up to you, looking flustered as she stopped for a second to catch her breath. ‘Mr. Lee is looking for you.’ You couldn’t hide the way your face fell at the mention of your managers name.
‘what does he need?’ You asked, trying to keep your voice calm.
‘I don’t know, just said he needs to see you...’ She trailed off with a huff, obviously not too happy about keeping the man waiting.
‘It sounds important. I can wait for you?’ Changbin looked over to you with a light frown, not feeling too good about you being the only one having to stay behind after a long day.
You desperately wanted to accept his offer, but as you took in his tired, sweaty form, you couldn’t bring yourself to burden him. Especially now that you noticed the other members obliviously walking ahead, engrossed in their own conversations as they turned the corner out of sight.
‘No it’s fine.’ You waved in dismissal. ‘You catch up with the others. I’ll ask Mr. Lee for a ride home.’ You tried to smile convincingly.
Changbin agreed to leave, though as glanced back over his shoulder to watch you walk away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
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You knocked on the door and waited for the all clear to entre. The staff member accompanying you had already left, clearly wanting to get back to her own work.
You were about to knock again when you received no answer, but you didn’t get a chance. The door suddenly swung open and before you could react, you were yanked inside by your arm. You couldn’t help but let out a pained gasp at the painful contact.
‘Oh please. It didn’t hurt.’ Mr. Lee scoffed as he slammed the door shut behind you.
You frowned deeply and rubbed the sore part if your arm, deciding to stay quiet for now.
‘I watched you all practice today.’ He came and stood directly in front of you. You weren’t the tallest person, so he practically towered over you when he stood so close. It took everything in you to not flinch away or step back. He would have only used it as another opportunity to mock you.
‘I couldn’t help but notice you’re filling out your clothes more. Have you put on weight?’ You were suddenly regretting your decision to go home in your training gear. It was a yellow sports bra, paired with camo print leggings. You knew the outfit showed a lot of skin, but it was easy to move in and you felt comfortable around your members, plus it was much less effort to go home first and change after a shower.
You suddenly felt very exposed under the mans gaze, and unconsciously brought your arms up to cover your chest.
‘N-no... I haven’t...’ Mr. Lee just sniggered before he suddenly lunged and pulled you towards him by your arm and running is disgusting hand over your backside.
'Really? Well this tells a different story!' He squeezed hard as you tried to squirm away from his touch.
Your mind began racing a mile a minute.
He’d been treating you awfully since day one, but you never expected him to be capable of something like this.
‘Stop! Let me go!’ You flailed in his arms, trying your hardest to escape, but he only tightened his grip on you.
‘Hey!’ He spit out, moving both his hands to tightly grip your upper arms. His face was so close to yours that spit from his words landed on your face.
You wanted to vomit.
Tears were streaming down your face as he leaned in to whisper in your ear.
‘Remember who’s in charge here. I could ruin you.’ With those final words, he attached his lips to your neck and began sucking and moaning, as he left slobbery, messy kisses wherever he could reach.
Your whole body froze up. You felt like you were going to pass out. You couldn’t control your panicked breathing. Your whole body was shaking as his grip only seemed to get tighter.
‘P-please...’ You tried to plead meekly one last time to get him to stop.
He only ignored you and continued his assault on your neck, as one of his hands left your arm and began to wander over your chest.
He wasn’t going to stop.
You knew full well he would take this as far as he could. You had to do something, anything to get out of this situation.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, you closed your eyes and with as much force as you could muster... You thrust you knee up, and connected dead centre wit his balls.
Mr. Lee was caught off guard and let go of you to cradle his man hood as he doubled over in pain.
You didn’t waste a single second to book it out of the room and down the corridor. You didn’t even stop to pick up your bag, just wanting to be anywhere but there.
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You kept your head down as you walked through the dark street.
It was freezing out and you were still only wearing your sports bra, as you didn’t have time to grab anything before running out.
To people observing you from the outside, it looked like you were wondering aimlessly and currently regretting your wardrobe choice, but in reality... You knew exactly where you were going.
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‘Ok I’m coming!’ Jungkook yelled out in annoyance as someone continued to bang aggressively on his door.
He ripped the door open, ready to chew into whoever thought it appropriate to knock like that. His anger turned to shock, then worry when he saw your shaking form before him.
Before Jungkook could even say anything, you rushed forwards and threw your arms round him, before beginning to sob uncontrollably into his chest.
Jungkook was at a loss for words. The last thing he expected to open his door to that night was his sobbing twin sister. He quickly composed himself and pushed the door closed behind you and returned your embrace. His eyes widened when he felt how cold your skin was.
‘Jesus you’re freezing! Why are you out dressed like this? What’s going on?’ he held you at arms length as he tried to gather any information about your current situation.
You tried to speak, but due to a mix of the cold and the sobs, you found it difficult to get any words out at all. Jungkook realised your struggle and quickly ushered you to sit on his couch, before scurrying off down the hall.
You rubbed your arms in an attempt to warm yourself up and calm down, before Jungkook ran back in almost as quickly as he left, with a folded fluffy blanket in his arms.
‘Here, you need to warm up!’ He draped the blanket over your shoulders, which you graciously scrunched around yourself.
Jungkook took a seat next to you and gently rubbed your back.
‘Will you tell me what happened? I can help you.’ He prodded gently, wanting to make sure you knew he was on your side.
You bit your lip nervously and looked away, already feeling new tears forming just thinking about what happened.
‘U-umm. You know how I told you that I got a temporary manager?’
‘Yeah?’ Jungkook drew out, scared to know where this could be going.
‘Well... He’s never been nice to me, but I could handle it since he’s only temporary...’
Jungkook clenched his jaw at hearing your staff wasn’t treating you right, but stayed silent to allow you to continue.
‘B-but today he umm..’ You trailed off, unsure if you should really tell him anything.
Jungkook picked up on your hesitation, so he gently prodded you to continue. He needed to know what happened, even if it made you uncomfortable to say. He couldn’t help if he didn’t know how.
‘It’s ok. Take your time... I’m here with you.’ He rubbed your back soothingly, coaxing you to talk.
You looked at your brother for a second. You could see the concern all over his face. He wanted to help you. Attempting to calm yourself down, you took a deep breath and wiped away your tears.
‘He cornered me and he t-touched me..’ You stuttered out and avoided eye contact as you spoke, too ashamed to look your brother in the eye.
Jungkook didn’t need you to elaborate on the word touched. His worst fear that came with his sister becoming an idol had come true. He could feel his anger bubbling up inside, but he tried his best to keep it together for your sake.
‘I managed to knee him in the balls and run away, but I left my stuff behind...’
‘Shit.’ Jungkook whispered to himself, face buried in his hand as the other stilled on your back.
‘You’re safe here, I’ll-‘ Jungkook started to address you, but suddenly stopped when two other men burst into the room.
‘Hey! Sorry we’re late!’
Fuck. He’d completely forgotten he’d invited Taehyung and Jimin over tonight. Taehyung abruptly stopped when he saw you, causing Jimin to almost run into him.
Blush formed on your cheeks when you noticed both men staring at you in confusion.
You quickly got up without a word and ran to Jungkook’s bathroom. You felt like you really needed to shower.
As soon as the bathroom door slammed shut, Jimin and Taehyung turned to Jungkook for answers. He reluctantly told them to sit, and began explaining your situation. If they also knew, then maybe they could help in some way.
‘What the fuck!?’ Taehyung shot up and burst out as Jungkook finished explaining. ‘How could this even happen without anyone noticing!?’
‘I don’t know.’ Jugkook sighed with a shake of his head, suddenly feeling like he’d lost all his energy.
Taehyung and Jimin shared a look, both equally as angry about what happened to you.
You were their maknae’s twin sister, which automatically made you family to them.
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In the bathroom, you’d turned the shower up as hot as you possibly could. You could still feel his touch on your skin and it made you feel dirty. Especially where his lips had touched your neck.
You couldn’t stop yourself from crying once again as you scrubbed at your skin.
The heat had made your skin heat up in a light shade of red. The amount of time you’d spent in there, you were sure Jungkook would have no hot water left.
Little did you know whilst you were showering, Jungkook was receiving a frantic phone call from Chan...
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Jungkook, Taehyung and Jimin had been talking furiously back and forth about the situation and how to approach it, when Jungkook’s phone suddenly began to ring. He had every intention of ignoring the call, when he caught a glimpse of the caller ID.
‘Wait guys! Chan is calling me!’ Jimin and Taehyung immediately shut up and gestured for him to answer.
‘Oh thank god you answered!’ Chan sighed in relief as soon as Jungkook answered. ‘Has Y/N been in contact with you? We can’t find her anywhere!’ Chan was clearly panicking from the tone of his voice.
‘Yeah she’s here with me. She’s really upset...’ There was silence from Chan’s end for a moment, confusing Jungkook.
‘Chan... Do you not know what’s going on?’  Jimin and Taehyung couldn’t here the other half of the conversation, but both their eyebrows furrowed in shock. Jungkook shot them a look, as he waited for Chan to reply.
‘....Mr. Lee has accused Y/N of attacking him. He’s going off to anyone who’ll listen and nobody knows what’s happening! I’m really worried about Y/N...’
Jungkook’s face paled at Chan’s words. How the heck could this be happening right now?
They needed to figure this out asap, for your sake...
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iamnmbr3 · 3 months
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Hi it's me!🙋‍♀️
My roman empires these days:
■ the way Harry describes Draco's clothes in yule ball is one thing but funnier thing is when Harry thinks he looks like a vicar i love it lmao(idk is it considered as good or bad, compliment or...???)
■ in GOF Ron is the first one who notices Hermione's teeth length have changed, not Harry..guess whose details Harry notices 24*7? (skin colour, mood, height, etc)
■ Harry lied to MLE for Draco(at least talked in passive voice so it wasn't obvious who did those things) so why should Draco need a trial?! I think these two are impossible together, either MLE knows nothing about Draco's deeds and there's no trial or they know everything and there is a trial for him..idk did i miss something..
1) I don't think Harry meant it as a compliment. But also, it's notable that he's looking. What's up with that Harry? Draco also has opinions on Harry's clothes too - in one of the books he makes derogatory comments about Harry's Christmas jumper. They are both really out there like 'wow i hate that guy so much. and he has a terrible fashion sense. want to hear my detailed opinions on every outfit he's ever worn?' (Their friends must be so Tired TM).
2) Lol omg yeah good catch! Ron immediately notices when a tiny detail about Hermione, the person he has complicated and growing romantic feelings for, changes. Because he's hyper aware of her and what she looks like. Similarly, Harry catalogues every detail about Draco and immediately notices tiny differences - like his skin tone changing a bit in book 6 - before anyone else does. Hm... Wonder what could be up there...
3) Post book 7 a lot more information about Draco's crimes would be available. Draco would probably be rounded up as a known Death Eater. He's got the Dark Mark and other Death Eaters who were captured would have named him (especially given how hated his family became). From an outsider POV the fact that Voldemort was using the Manor as a base and was keeping prisoners there makes it look like Draco and his family were high up, favored members of the inner circle (and the postwar wizarding world would be unlikely to be sympathetic to "no actually he mistreated us too. we didn't even want him in our house. no really"). Draco would be seen as being complicit in the kidnappings, imprisonment, torture and murders that took place in his house. And to be fair, he was, however unhappily and unwillingly, complicit in all that. He was one of the jailers holding people prisoner there (albeit a minor one and quite possibly something of a prisoner himself in his own house, possibly even without the ability to release people even if he had wanted to). Survivors of that experience would be able to name him as responsible.
If any of the other Death Eaters who were on the Astronomy Tower survived and were captured they would also be able to name him as responsible for at least some of the events that occurred there (Harry's probably out there like 'nope. they're definitely lying. You're really going to believe the Carrows over me?' lolol /hj).
He also used Unforgivables on fellow Death Eaters on Voldemort's orders - probably there were other incidents like the Rowle incident that Harry witnessed - which some of his surviving fellows could reveal. Probably most wizards would not be receptive to the "no I swear I didn't want to do it. I was forced." argument. Except of course, Harry can actually provide evidence this is true due to his mental connection to Voldemort.
Therefore, I imagine he'd be on trial for aiding and abetting the Death Eaters, an illegal paramilitary organization, multiple counts of imprisonment and kidnapping, providing aid and material comfort and support to the wanted criminal Lord Voldemort (by being complicit in letting him use his house as a base), multiple counts of the use of Unforgivables for torture, accessory to murder (all the prisoners who were killed in his house), possibly some sort of insurrection charge (because they'd probably assume he actively fought on the side of the Death Eaters at the Battle of Hogwarts), possibly a generalized count of crimes against Muggleborns due to his involvement with the Death Eaters, AND if someone spilled the beans on the Astronomy Tower incident - one count of using the Imperius curse on Madam Rosmerta, multiple counts of attempted murder, and one count of accessory to the murder of Albus Dumbledore.
So yeah. Not looking great for him. Now there's a lot of important context around these charges. A lot of this context is information ONLY Harry can provide or verify. So Harry's testimony would be critical in proving that Draco didn't do some of these things or was coerced and in proving that he had a change of heart.
In fact, given the likely postwar climate and Draco's last name and seeming heavy involvement as a diehard Death Eater loyalist who was so favored by Voldemort that he was granted the rare honor of a Dark Mark while still in school, I take the fact that Draco isn't rotting in prison postwar (and apparently didn't do any prison time at all according to supplemental material) as incontrovertible evidence that Harry spoke for him at his trial. Which delights my drarry heart.
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solarianastrology · 2 years
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RANDOM ASTRO OBSERVATIONS
These observations are based upon my personal interactions with these placements and energies. As a wise woman I know once said "take what resonates and leave the rest on the shelf, go back to it later, see if it resonates again, if not, throw it away".
I dislike seeing people say in order to be an astrologer you have to have read a certain amount of charts, you have to have certain years of experience.
astrologer (n.)
late 14c., "an observer of the stars," from astrology + -er (1). It drove out French import astrologein, which, had it survived, probably would have yielded *astrologian, as in Chaucer's "The wise Astrologen." Also in Middle English in reference to cocks as announcers of sunrise.
astrologer | Etymology, origin and meaning of astrologer by etymonline
You are all astrologers because you study and observe the stars and never let anyone tell you you're not!
Having Neptune in the 6th house, you'll feel this need to be of service in your career in a healing/helping way whether it be people, pets, plants, you have to help in some way.
Neptune in 6th house natives need a career where they can be in control of their schedule because when it comes to sticking to a traditional routine, they absolutely neglect them. They don't pay attention to time; they don't even remember the date half the time lol. They really live in their own reality. They can easily get used because of their need to help and be of service to others. Meditation comes easy to them. Their job can affect their health if not's not allowing them to express their creativity, healing abilities, nurturing qualities, and spirituality. Great placement for MedSpa workers, nutritional dieticians, herbalists, life coaches, artists, etc.
Chiron conjunct Vertex are here to heal!!!!Life is going to constantly connect you with a lot of "broken" people and you have to ability to influence their inner healing. You will also meet a lot of wise people along the way and will feel like they are fated and meant to be. I've heard someone with this placement say, their Chiron is conjunct Vertex in Sagittarius, and their mentor is a Sagittarius and has taught her so many life changing health habits, life habits, and much more. She said, "It feels like an action movie where the hero is fighting the villain and he's the guru or guide leading her along the way", I was like wow.
3H Mercury, especially in air signs love learning. I've seen them studying and they weren't even in school, they just value information.
Cancer moons never forget anything, watch what you say and do to them.
Anybody else find Virgo risings extremely private about information about them but knowledgeable about how to fix and heal everyone else? Hmm, probably that Scorpio 3H.
Libra moon and risings have to look good out in public, it doesn't matter the occasion. They value fashion.
Ever met a Taurus full of Gemini placements? No one can pull off double life living like these men! They present it so well and will have 2 girlfriends and a boyfriend on the flip side.
Mars in Capricorn natives hate apologizing and being told what to do. Mars in Capricorn could also have a very difficult relationship with the father, he could be angry, aggressive, etc.
Asteroid Prevert 18624 conjunct Saturn could signify your father being a pedophile or pervert, I know this because It's in my chart and my father is a well-known offender.
Make a Libra Mars angry, it'll feel like an Aries Mars wrath... They are so calm and hold so much in to keep away from conflict but once their justice and their peace is compromised, you get an entirely different side, their anger is explosive, also any form of unfairness makes the scales tip.
Cancer Suns with Scorpio Moons are some of the most manipulative people I've ever met, (my mom) included, lol. They feel everything deeply, can feel a sense of change in the mood of a person on instinct. They have a tendency to self-sabotage to avoid vulnerability, but I mean, no judging. Emotional understanding is a superpower, use it correctly cause Pluto does not play Scorpio Moons.
Neptune in the 6th house need to always pay attention to their health and always trust their intuition, that higher self, no matter what. Connect with the foods you eat, study that food's effect on your body, it'll aid in tummy heath of yours.
Why do I mostly find Libra's and Sagittarius together? lol
I hope you enjoyed, thank you for reading. Your feedback and opinions are important to me.
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philosophiums · 3 days
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I love violence and rage give me 6, 7, 24 and 25 fr jjk <333
hiiiiiiiiiiiii hina !! <3 i also love violence and rage!!
6. which ship fans are the most annoying?
hhhhhh self shippers real answer though i don't think there's a specific ship that has really annoying fans? like are there ships i don't really care for yeah and therefore by default do i find those shippers annoying yeah but i have cultivated my online experience and therefore i don't see them JAHSVHSDV
7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?
gojo. good lord, gojo. i've been in a lot of fandoms and i've never seen fans hold the amount of unfiltered lust for a character as some (not a small number) jjk fans have for gojo. like.... an overwhelming amount of gojo art is a thirst trap or just straight up porn. and beyond that (worse than that, imo) the rabid gojo fans don't even care about like,,, his characterization.. what he means to the story.... anything like that. and it's such a wild swing from people who view him as a little princess twink or a fucking. yolked 6'4 dom top but like oh my goddddddd they're both wrong in such violently different and yet similar ways. and don't even get me started on the annoying ass mfers who spam the chapter tag on leak nights about him. christ. anyway. i don't truly hate gojo but the way fandom treats him and acts about him puts such a bad taste in my mouth that i've started to strongly dislike him as a pavlovian response
24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse
god i think just like. anything involving megumi is bound to bring up a whole ocean's worth of bad vibes. everyone has their own opinions on him and how the narrative handles him and despite those opinions varying from "he's worthless and stupid" to "he's amazing and should have been given more room to do stuff" everyone always ends up in such a pissy fucking mood when talking about him; the only difference is whether that negativity is directed at megumi himself or at gege. regardless, i am Tired Of It. i love megumi to death and the last thing i want is for him to turn into gojo junior wherein i start to hate him bc the fandom can't be fucking normal
25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing
god just everything about the last few chapters. like... we know. we know. everyone has said everything there is to say at least five times over and at this point it's just like...... if you are dissatisfied, write a fic. "i can't write" do it anyway. daydream. fucking. commission a fic writer. idk what else to tell you. this is not the first manga/anime/show to like... leave characters behind or leave areas of plot unexplored. that's where the fandom is meant to thrive. but jjk fandom hates being a community almost as much as it hates canon. i just don't understand the thought process here i really don't. imo, the more holes canon has, the more fics can be written, and the longer the fandom can continue to live and cultivate and thrive after canon ends. but this is straight up the worst fandom i've ever been in as far as community goes. the amount of attention fics get is horrifically low, and such a high percentage of art consumption seems to be based around sex appeal or like. weird self-shipping stuff. idk man i just Don't Get It and it's annoying. ...that veered hard to the left. anyway yeah all of the complaints about the last few chapters when there's literally only one chapter left. wait until it's don't before you bring out the guillotine. christ
hater hours ask game
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sillystringsimpsons · 5 months
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@legstheoctomobster asked some questions about Johnny's age regression and my headcanons around it. I drafted a respose and for some fucking reason tumblr posted my draft. I panicked and deleted it (STUPID!) but that meant I lost the ask so I'm just taggin him here
HEY...! There's a really cute little frankie/johnny quickfic at the end of this post that you should skip to and read even if you're not interested in the detailed response :3
ANYWAY… THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING… Your questions mean the world to me lil bro 👽
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So basically, Johnny’s experience with age regression is very much based off my own, not only because writing from experience allows me to make it better, but also because I don’t really hear much from involuntary/older little age regressors like me and like be the representation you want to see I guess.
When Johnny regresses, he retreats to around eight years old, the age of the primary traumatic experience he underwent. His memories and knowledge aren’t impacted at all (though there may be a very short transitional period of dissociated between the mental ages where he more or less experiences amnesia), but his motor skills, behaviours, and cognitive processes are significantly altered; meaning he struggles to communicate, and coordinate, and make full sense of the world around him, even though he knows where he is and what he’s doing.
By virtue of the D’Amico family structure, the boys don’t interact directly with Fat Tony so much as they do the underboss, his son, Softfoot Mikey. Johnny isn’t only ashamed and confused, he’s also too scared to let anybody onto it; it’s sad, but seeing the way Louie is treated after developing a cognitive disability frightens him. He’s able to mask himself, so there have yet to be any moments where he fully shuts down and is unable to function; to the untrained eye, his regressions look more or less like simple mood swings, and they’re passed off by Mikey and his fellow capos as not being anything significant. Mikey is a little bit concerned, though; he’s not aware of what it actually is, but deep down he knows something is going on.
The only person in the family who really knows is Frankie; thankfully for Johnny, he finds out at the point in his character art where he’s learning to keep his mouth shut about certain things. It happens during one of their errrr get-togethers: Johnny is triggered without warning and naturally begins screaming and panicking at the fact that a man in his late thirties is trying to kiss him. He’s in an extremely vulnerable position, so he struggles to mask and is basically outed about his regression to Frankie: but the two share a nice little moment that I’ve actually drafted out:
“Fuck, Johnny, whats the matter with you?”
“What…? F-franky,” Johnny uttered in a high-pitched groan, seemingly prompted by Frankie’s casual swearing. “Franky, you’re not a’sposed to say that word. S’… S’isn’t a good word, yous going to have your t-tongue eatin’ by coff’roaches.”
The last statement was spat with such vindication and offence that it became immediately apparent that Johnny was genuinely in the belief that his soldier was going to have his tongue eaten by cockroaches for using profane language. The taller's strange behaviours didn't stop there, however; he removed himself from Francesco's hold with strangely small movements- a frantic little shuffle that wound him up on the other side of his mattress, huddled up against the headboard in a crouched position that seemed to be intended to shut himself from the other man.
"What… What the shit-"
"Franky," whined Johnny without hesitation, voice frantic: like he was going to break out in tears of distress at any second. "I say- Said you ain't a'sposed ta' dire parolacce!"
Before the other could even begin to process Johnny's continued odd behaviour, he was hit in the head with one of his caporegime's hard, yellowing pillows. With the deliverer seemingly forgetting his own strength, the bedding was thrown with such force that Frankie has the wind pushed from his lungs, and nearly fell off the corner of the bed that he was seated on. Evidently, that was far from his intention: Giovanni immediately gave a small 'eep', paired with a puppy-eyed look of guilt.
"Okay, okay, jeez- Sorry, Gio," muttered the soldato, completely bemused in the sudden change in his normally stoic bosses demeanour. "I won't say no swears."
"…Do ya' mean it?"
"Yeah. On my ma, honest."
"O-okay, I believe you… Franky? Why's we in our underpants?"
"Why's we in our...? W-wha- I don't- Is this, like, what? A joke? ...Oh, Jesus, are you tryna' tell me you don't wanna' let me bang you no more?" Habit kicked in, and Frankie immediately launched into one of his characteristic bouts of frantic oversharing. "Gio- Johnny, is it because I'm real loud? I know it's a lot, but time before last, you said you liked the way I, u-um, 'whimpered': and, and I'd still been nervous, thinkin' maybe you was just fibbing to make me feel better about myself- and that- that maybe you was only lettin' me hit because I'm the only other guy outside the Dingo who's swinging like this - I think: so I asked Connie, and she's been tellin' me that girls actually like guys who make some noise- Course', yous not a girl, I just-"
"What? No-! Ew! Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, that is the most grossest thing I have ever heard, infinity times a billion!"
Giovanni threw his legs out from beneath him, kicking them around like a petulant child as he groaned quietly and covered both ears with cupped hands. His fingernails gripped so tightly into scalp, and he balled up his face so tightly at the Squealer's words that his face went a worryingly dark red. His partner immediately fell quiet at his borderline tantrum, eyes softening as he looked the panicking man over. Francesco wasn't quite sure exactly what was going on, but an unnamed realisation had clicked in his brain, and more or less. he understood that something beyond a normal breakdown was going on. With uncharacteristic quietude and hesitance, he shuffled a little closer to Tightlips, body language now geared inwards: as if he was trying to make himself less intimidating - and admittedly, less painfully half-naked.
"You ain't yourself right now, are you?"
"I don't know, Franky! Really, truly, honest to jeepers…"
"…T-that's okay, it's okay, you, um… You don't need to know." his words were inflicted upwards at their ends, as if they were questions, and he stuttered quietly as he spoke: all of it doing very little to hide the painful uncertainty in held his own actions. Frankie soldiered on, however, trying to work past his unsureness and get through to the frightened-looking Italian. "I, um, I reckon' you wanna' get dressed, don't you?"
"Uhhh… Yeah, yeh. Will you button my shirt for me, though, Franky? I'm not very much good with little buttons."
"What the- Nope, okay, it's okay; alright, uh- Y-yeah. Alright. I can help ya, Gio. Whatever ya' need right now."
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they are... my life at this moment..
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livingfictionsystem · 1 month
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Today seemed like a good day to roast the signs!
Now. These are just my own personal experience of each sign and obviously don't apply to everyone. I don't pre-judge anyone based on when they were born. I just thought it'd be fun and, since I love reading these things, I decided to make one. If this is accurate to you, awesome, feel free to tell me. If it isn't, awesome, feel free to tell me~
Virgo:
Some of the most authentic, witty, genuine people I've ever met. Pragmatic, honest, and ambitious. I've dated numerous Virgos. My Rising is in Virgo.
BUT.
I have never met a Virgo that did not let a single bad experience colour their entire view on something. If it went badly the first time, Virgos think it will Every Time, no argument. Also, AJ is Virgo, and that's a blight on the sign if I've ever seen one. (Also fucking just. BREATHE. Please. You blighters give me second-hand anxiety)
Cancer:
Caring, expressive, funny. Loyal to a fault. I think of them as the John Watson of signs. My best friend is a Cancer sign. Genuinely warm people that just wants their loved ones to be happy.
BUT
You take things way too personally and also you never stop crying.
Leo:
Another good friend of mine is a Leo. My moon is in Leo. Bold, fun, confident and I love a little ego in my friends. Or like a lot. They also have an uncanny intuitive sense, too. Freddie Thornhill from Vicious is a canonic Leo.
BUT:
You all realise you're allowed to be corrected? Admit you were wrong? Have the spotlight off you for two seconds? You're all so high energy and I need nap. (In my experience, you can also be loud.)
Aries:
Ooooh boy. My worst relationship was with an Aries. But I have a couple of good friends in Aries! You're bold, charming, and charismatic as hell. I always like the good and friendly competition I get from Aries. And they're actually pretty loyal friends. Like to a fault.
BUT:
The explosive bloody temper. The arrogance. How they're suddenly the expert in every subject brought up in their vicinity. Aries can be A Lot.
Gemini:
Honestly, this is the one sign I have NEVER gotten along with for long periods of time. And I do try. But! Wilde's best friend, Robbie Ross, was a Gemini and he was a creative writer and brilliant friend. (Who put up with a lot.) Great communicators.
BUT:
Speaking from personal experience, if there's someone locking themselves in a bathroom during a party and loudly threatening to hurt themselves, there's a 80% chance they're a Gemini. (20% is Aries.) Dramatic, vindictive, and most apt to lying.
Scorpio:
This is my sun sign, and I also married one of these spiteful fuckers. I love the depth, the aesthetic, the romanticising. And our intuition is one of the best out there. You know, when we listen to it.
BUT:
Love gets us SO fucked up. We can't help but go from "meant to be" to "dead to me." Romance brings out the best and worst in us. We're SO romantically ruled. Also our grudge-holding and pettiness can get like straight-up childish. Two Scorpios arguing can last for months and take cheap shots at each other. Voted most likely to risk jail to get back at an ex. We need to CHILL.
Taurus:
Used to be one of my favourite signs before I met Rowan. The respect for indulgence bordering on hedonism, how it balances with being surprisingly pragmatic, and many are So aesthetically inclined. And protective and parental.
BUT:
Sensitive as a Richter scale. Their communication likes to tilt between letting things build up until a breaking point, or jumping several conclusions within a millisecond. Many have severe control issues.
Capricorn:
I like Caps. Some people think they're cold, but I think they're assertive and have a good sense of boundaries. I love their ambition and they're pretty genuine.
BUT:
Do ALL of you have depression? Happiness takes like a 7-day processing time, apparently. Your mood is SO connected to your energy levels, too. Are you okay?
Sagittarius:
Intuitive as HELL. Also creative and down to back you in your impulses. The amount of ambition and energy they put into their goals is admirable. Genuine friends, a good friend of mine is a Sagittarius.
BUT:
They cut off people quick enough that it breaks the sound barrier. They'd rather burn down a building than let the occupants walk all over them again. Which clashes with the usual desire to be the parent of the friend group. Also impulsive as all hell.
Pisces:
I've never spent a ton of time around this sign. They usually seem like they've got a pretty good sense of the future. They always have a back-up plan and are intuitive. Pretty good sense of humour, too.
BUT:
That ego will swing pretty quick from king of the world to lower than dirt, won't it? A very emotional sign. Once that temper is reached, there's no going back.
Aquarius:
This is a fun one. Creative, spontaneous, usually downright weird. Sherlock is a canonic Aquarius, which explains a lot. They're usually highly intelligent. I've dated only one, and it was one of my best relationships.
BUT:
"Down to earth" doesn't apply when these blighters can't FIND the earth. They can be unreliable-- a LOT are pretty selfish. "Out of touch" is also a good descriptor.
Libra:
Oscar Wilde is a Libra. A witty, charismatic sign. They also usually have a pretty good aesthetic/artistic sense. So many Libras have me laughing until I cry. GREAT at parties. I get along with a good lot of them.
BUT:
I have Never seen a Libra admit they were wrong. They also can be pretty flaky and unreliable. They will sit on that fence until they become one with it.
-Xanthe
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osaumu · 4 days
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OSAMU DAZAI \ BRIEF ANALYSIS ON HIS MENTAL STATE.
warnings for topics of depression, death, apathy, antisocial personality disorder, suicide, abuse + psychopathy.
so i'm going to preface this by saying i am not a doctor and so this analysis is purely based off what is available in the source material and personal interpretations made from research. this is in no way a solid analysis, but i think when writing a character with the complexities dazai has, it's important to give a brief overview of what they are and how it will reflect in writing/interactions with other characters.
there are so many available analysis' on dazai having borderline personality disorder - i do not adhere to this. it is important to note that while dazai is based on a real person, the real dazai osamu lived in such a time where many diagnoses were either unavailable or not wholly trusted. please note that my analysis on osamu dazai, a character from bungo stray dogs, is not a reflection on his real life counterpart and is not meant to be interpreted as such.
firstly, i categorise dazai is living with clinical depression ( major depressive disorder ), which can manifest in many different ways but most notable to his character:
persistently low or depressed mood
anhedonia ( decreased interest in pleasurable activities )
sleep disturbances
suicidal thoughts and/or tendencies
some newer studies attribute mdd to sometimes, in certain individuals, exist alongside the learned helplessness theory which is the behaviour exhibited by a subject after enduring repeated aversive stimuli that which is beyond their control. the learned helplessness theory is a view that clinical depression may result from a real or perceived absence of control over the outcome of a situation.
i would go as far to attribute this theory to dazai, as though he repeatedly shows control over his own choices, his view on the absence of control he has on the outcome of life is shown multiple times, seen especially when he poses the question to mori, is there really any point to this thing we call living? from the age of fourteen, we see that under mori's guidance dazai is left absent of choices. he watches him kill someone and is told he will bear witness, and is kept under mori's wing and given tasks and goals to work towards to keep dazai occupied and under his control. further to this, in expanded studies individuals living with the learned helplessness theory may have a pessimistic explanatory style and tend to see negative events as permanent i.e. "this will never change", "there's nothing more we can do" i would say at a stretch that dazai's view on life and the way he experiences it fall under this category, and this is something he has tried to force on others, notably kunikida + atsushi.
it's important when dealing with analysis on mental illness to remember that comorbidity exists and that one or more disorders/illnesses can be present in any one person. so in the next instance, we'll talk about my view on dazai and apathy, antisocial personality disorder and the scale of psychopathy.
apathy is described as a symptom indicating loss of interest of emotions. apathy is not its own separate disorder/syndrome, and more commonly walks had in hand with those of depression and personality disorders ( not all, and this varies from person to person ). apathy is a recognised state of indifference, an absence of interest/concern for emotional, social, philosophical questioning and the world beyond it. people with severe apathy may experience a lesser quality of life as they have no interest processing emotion and/or experiencing life, and are higher risk for mortality or institutionalisation. where dazai is concerned i believe him to be on the severe scale of apathy, which can manifest in tandem in a severe lack of empathy and extreme difficulty in processing emotion, where the lack of concern for it is present. ( you see a dead bird on the side of the road and someone else finds it unbearably sad, but you think, why should i feel anything for it? it's dead. i have no connection to it, i didn't see it die. if i saw it die, would i feel differently? apathetics experience this kind of questioning as emotional responses do not come naturally do them. ) it is important to note that apathy and depression, while commonly present together in individuals suffering from either, are not shown as being linked.
antisocial personality disorder ( aspd as i will refer to it ) is something i find highly present for dazai, and it commonly links with the scale of psychopathy, despite psychopathy being something that is not able to be diagnosed. aspd is an adult diagnosis that is characterised by a persistent disregard and violation of other's rights (see: his treatment of kyusaku and akutagawa - kyusaku he locked away in the port mafia's basement, concluding that he could not "fix" them and make them less volatile. with akutagawa this is listed further below, but referencing his treatment of akutagawa and how he abused his power over him. ) beginning in childhood/early adolescence. those with aspd will often show a lack of empathy, manipulate others for personal gain and do not often feel remorse for their actions. they will struggle to form interpersonal relationships and experience significant impairments in social situations. further to this is irresponsible behaviour and a disregard for normal social structure, blaming others for problems within their lives, repeated law breaking and lack of clear moral judgement ( important to note that dazai would have killed kyusaku, as he already notes that he cannot change them, and it might be more beneficial than simply locking them away again, if not for the moral judgement that chuuya provided in that moment ). those with aspd are at greater risk of dying prematurely due to reckless behaviour and attempts on their own lives via suicide. noting dazai as having aspd with regards to criminal activity aligns on a natural course - dazai joined the port mafia's ranks in the hopes that exposing himself to violence and impropriety would allow him to form some kind of emotional reaction, whether positive or negative, he wanted to feel something - this does not work, as he is commonly shown to ponder the fact that still, he feels nothing, and trying to has become a useless activity. this is just one of many factors leading to dazai being a dangerous individual, and this lack of an emotional response to averse situations does not change in adulthood and with the new addition of positive choices, dazai is still indifferent.
on the diagnosis of aspd, people are commonly labelled as sociopaths, however i disregard this as i would link dazai heavily with being on the scale of psychopathy.
now, psychopathy cannot be diagnosed, and a key difference between sociopathy and psychopathy is that sociopaths are made, psychopaths are born with this predisposition. psychopathy can present in a severe lack of emotional regulation and ability to feel and process emotion, individuals on this scale are commonly noted to have "dead eyes". a common reference to this would be that as "average" people experience emotions like anger, sadness, fear, anxiety, happiness, for someone on the scale of psychopathy this manifests as experiencing these emotions completely dialled down. what this means for dazai is that there is an understanding of emotion, but no present ability to feel and comprehend it within himself without bringing it forth manually and picking apart with his logical mind.
labelling a character and/or person as a psychopath can be dangerous, and to put it plainly this because of the idiotic ideation that psychopaths are all insane. i know for a fact that many people would label dazai a psychopath and then that manifest in character traits that mirror that of the joker which is a good fictional portrayal of certain levels of psychopathy, but the way this is often interpreted in the rpc is usually harmful and combined with a severe lack of research into the things i have referenced above. ( further to this, i have seen people reference the scene in 15 where dazai shoots someone, and has them ask him for death. in my view, this is the beginning of his journey in his understanding that he cannot feel the way an "average" person would, and it is his first time killing someone with his own hands. the first gunshot fires and he shoots the man, killing him, and the cogs in his brain ask why didn't i feel anything? why didn't it shock me? shouldn't i be repulsed? if not, why aren't i happy about it? this indifference causes dazai to shoot several more times, a certain dissociation that is him chasing a reaction he believes should be there, whether positive or negative, but that simply does not exist. )
as a tldr; dazai is a psychopath and his mental state dances that scale alongside clinical depression, apathy and antisocial personality disorder, which under the scale of psychopathy, all of these play a role. in his younger years he explored death and violence to a frightening degree and used others as test subjects on his journey to make himself feel something, a feared member of the port mafia dazai was proficient in ways of torturing individuals to make them talk, referencing "is there anyone who didn't talk after i started interrogating them?" and this is because dazai sees people as things to play with both physically and mentally. he manipulated chuuya's friends into thinking the worst and set in motion the plan to force chuuya into the port mafia, despite already having decided he wouldn't kill the sheep. he abused his power over akutagawa to force him into a state of dependency on dazai's approval, physically and emotionally wounded him to a point beyond recognition and that forced him to do well on the reliance of dazai's good mood.
his actions are inexcusable, and the traits of all listed above manifest in his "new life" within the ada, in different ways. psychopaths do not need to be inherently evil, and this is a common misconception. psychopathy is referenced to be a driving force for serial killers, murderers, criminals as they lack emotional comprehension and moral guidance that "average" people do not need to think about. dazai makes conscious efforts to perform the role of an "average" person, brings emotion forth manually and acts it out as he has seen others do. he can empathise, he can feel, but it takes a great deal of effort, as if he didn't force this, he simply wouldn't feel, wouldn't comprehend emotional responses. for the most part, this has become second - nature to him now, and can do so easily. but there are times where the mask he wears slips ( see: dark era dazai, age eighteen, walking towards a volatile gunman who had his weapon pointed directly at his head, asking him to kill him - knowing he would miss as he had calculated the man was fatally injured and couldn't make the shot, but it is referenced that he was begging to be let go from the hold the world had on him, going as far as to almost cry ).
dazai's performance of emotion within the ada is important because it is at least 80% MORE than what it was when he was with the port mafia, and this is because as a tactic of manipulation, it does not serve him to be feared within the ada, or by the people he's supposed to help. the whimsical nature that you see, dazai is comfortable feeling and performing, but it is that. a performance of a capability he doesn't have naturally.
i hope this makes sense. again in no way is this a solid analysis, just my thoughts and feelings on how dazai presents as a character with a lot of nuance, and i feel its important that when i'm talking about him, or characters are interacting with him, people understand what i mean when i may reference certain things.
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blood-starved-beast · 4 months
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1) Really glad that you liked my idea about how Gehrman and Maria could've been mutually cringefail to one another over failing "expectations" and thought that dynamic had potential! I have to admit though, you are actually the reason I've started thinking of Maria under less flattering angle and discovered new girlfailure depths in her 2) Tbh it is kind of funny how I always add commentary on Gehrman takes that are TOO unflattering, but you always add a commentary on Maria takes that aren't unflattering ENOUGH. It feels like that Spiderman meme with two of them pointing at one another but with one Spiderman being upside-down and with colors inverted. Maybe users like us can make those characters equal one day instead of defined "bad" side and "good" side. One day..
Sorry for getting back to you late but aw thanks bruh.
The thing with me and Bloodborne is that it's both a horror and a tragedy. And what comes to mind with those genres is that the characters, the human ones in this case, are often portrayed and are meant to be seen in an unflattering light, because they've done awful things/are awful people in line with the themes, motivations, mood, etc. of the story.
Bloodborne is a story about the aftermath of a societal collapse due to rampant, unchecked scientific and medical atrocities, hubris towards the gods (Great Ones), religious and political corruption, and human induced plagues. We're faced time and time again with Hunters and doctors who have done so much damage, so much atrocity, a callous and blatant disregard for human life. Like I don't even have to list them just open a save into any place and it's there.
So going back to Maria it's like. Her reputation precedes her. We enter the Research Hall where we're met with some of the most explicit violations of human life (Orphanage aside) in the game. The patients going mad, being turned into water bubbles for experimental purpose, living in squalor, going berserk. When their experiments fail they're dumped into the Lumenwood garden where in the dream rise up to fight you with the power of the Cosmos. They cry out for a Lady Maria, who based on what they're saying is allegedly helping them and supposedly is going to save them. These cries, uttered by the destitute and the sick. They are not accurate actors. These people are living in desperate circumstances, they are being abused, and the only person they cling to is the current authority figure - logically, this is Lady Maria, as otherwise they would have named someone.
Like, this isn't the place to discuss in-depth the psychology of research subjects vs experimenters but we all know that subjects trust the experiment leader to take care or at least not abuse them. If you want to learn more about this look up Milgram's Experiments on Authority. Anyways, the fact that we see such a contrast between what desperate people need/crave and what they're not getting - someone is failing them. Lady Maria is failing them. And lo and behold, you find her dead in the Clocktower having committed suicide.
So I'm gonna be very unpopular in saying this that I don't feel much sympathy for Maria's own state other than yeah what a crying shame. I know society unjustly villainizes the mentally ill and those who commit suicide, but people don't always commit suicide cause they've been overwhelmed by mental illness. Sometimes, it's to escape a failure or consequences. And Maria I believe, is of that latter example. How fitting, that the Living Failures are placed right before Maria's bossfight. How fitting that they're dead and rise up, just like how Maria we find dead but actually not really. She failed the people of the Research Hall, she failed to help humanity advance to the next stage, which is the goal of all the researchers in the game (and they all failed). She failed to save them.
And apparently, it's not enough that she failed them, but she doesn't even help them while they're alive? The level of squalor we see the patients in the Hall is abhorrent. That's not something that happens in a week or a day. Saint Adeline is largely lucid (before giving her brain fluid) and speaks as though Maria is still alive. The implication is that's what the Hall looked like right around the time she died. She failed them, failed to protect them, and then disrespected them in their last days, after death. Maybe the Hall didn't start out this way, maybe the more demoralized she because with her research, the less she cared, who knows. She still got new patients, and kept doing the atrocities. She placed her research - and her curiosity over everyone else in that Hall. She betrays her principles for it. And what does she have to show for it? She runs away again.
She runs away from the Hunt when she realizes she done wrong (hates the Hunt, but hey could she have done something then?), but instead joins the Research Hall - apparently still enslaved to her curiosity, maybe justifying it with saving people. Clearly that was an excuse cause look at the Hall. (I mean, what kind of person claims atrocity at the Fishing Hamlet then runs to lead a Human Experimentation lab?) She couldn't face her own actions, who she has become as a person, who she is as a person, she ran from it. And by the end of her tenure at the Hall, she realized she could no longer run away from her flaws, her atrocities. What does she do? Does she change course? No, she kills herself.
"Evolution without courage will be the ruin of our race" is a statement found in the game. Evolution, likely referring to ascension. In the Japanese version, it's written as "Pathetic evolution" or something to that extent. Maria is emblematic of that statement. She is a coward. That's why she was only able to produce the living failures. Whereas Fauxsefka had that courage and produced the Celestial Emissary and the minions, Maria never did. Her suicide is emblematic of that, the cherry on top on a long list of personal and professional failures. So so pathetic.
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