#And while the majority of them have been handled I'm EXHAUSTED

[amethystina]

at my big age, after reading many pieces of work both online and from proper published authors, I promise you I cannot tellthe difference between the quality of 2 chapters. If the story itself is a masterpiece overall, a less than ideal chapter will not change that. And knowing your talent, what you consider less than ideal is something we will eat up and be amazed by nonetheless because it is a product of your brain. It is only normal to be harsh on oneself, but please understand that you need not worry about any harshness from our end, we appreciate you writing for us, await it with great excitement, and we will love whatever you give us. Write however, and whatever you feel is necessary for the plot, pacing be damned because I promise you we will be frothing at the mouth at the chapter regardless of what you choose to do. Please don't be so critical of yourself💗 And please take care of yourself. Remember to eat and drink water and smile everyday💗

A part of me knows that, but another just feels so nervous, I guess? Because I've been getting comments saying that the story is beginning to drag or that it's not very exciting anymore and I know a chapter like this probably won't help. Granted that those people are still a minority but, sometimes, it feels like I'm just waiting for the chapter that will make people lose interest in the fic. Or the chapter that validates their claims, I guess? Which I know is silly because, again — they're a very small group and it's impossible to please everyone — but our brains don't always listen to reason.

And, admittedly, none of this is helped by my overall mental state right now, which isn't the best xD (but could also be worse, to be fair)

That said, I'm still going to finish the chapter because I know I'm just blowing things out of proportion due to insecurities and perfectionism. It can't be helped if this chapter is a little choppier because we're at a point in the story where there won't be any long, detailed scenes because Ga On and Yo Han aren't talking all that much. And it's better to speed past those days of silence than drag things out just for the sake of what I think would be more appropriate pacing. It would just be boring — not to mention depressing — to draw things out.

And if nothing else, I want to get to what's beyond this chapter. Which means that the sooner I get it over with, the better xD

(But I admit I'm also kind of high-key struggling with the impulse to write on other Devil Judge things, possibly because I'm deluding myself that those would be easier or quicker. Or maybe a part of me still yearns for the emotional catharsis that would come from writing Yo Han's POV after chapter 39 because I know for a fact that I'd get a good, solid cry out of it (I say as if I cry often when I write — I really don't. It's an incredibly rare occurrence that only happens once in a blue moon. But I would definitely cry while writing that). But I'm going to try and be disciplined and write chapter 41 instead)

Anyway. Thank you so much for the kind message. I'm so grateful for all the love and support you all show me, and I truly hope that I'll be able to get back into updating more frequently sometime soon. Not because I feel pressured or anything like that, but because there's still so much ahead of us and so much story to tell and I just can't wait to share it with you all.

Thank you again and you please take care, too! 💜

[genshinluvr]

Final Moments

Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You're somewhere alone, bleeding, and on the verge of death. Everyone is scrambling to reach out to you, but you're not picking up your phone, and no one knows where you are. Not even Nanook knows your whereabouts. You didn't think you could die in a universe you didn't belong to, but you were wrong. At least you were able to hear their voices in your final moments, right?

Note: I haven't written angst in so long. This is probably not the best angst I've written. This is an answer to an ask I received not long ago. I'm not sure how I feel about this mini-fic, but I think something sad happening for once is somewhat good for a fanfic one-shot series. To be really honest, it doesn't feel like angst to me. Idk if it's because I wrote it or if it's because it's not sad enough. Who knows. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Major character death, blood, probably my worst angst

Word Count: 3.9k

Your connection with Nanook has been severed. Whenever you sleep, you and Nanook communicate while you’re asleep. When you’re unconscious due to being knocked out by a flying prosthetic arm, Nanook is there— while you’re physically unconscious. You and Nanook have always been connected through body and mind since your arrival to their— Nanook, your Astral Express, Stellaron Hunter, Xianzhou Luofu, and Jarilo-VI companions— universe. However, this is the first time you realize you and Nanook are no longer connected to each other.

In the state of unconsciousness, you’re in the void. Only this void is different from the one where Nanook is covering the sun and sky. This abyss you’re in is pitch black, and you’re the only living being in the endless darkness. There’s no sky, no sun, no stars to light a path along the way in the void. At first, you’re uncertain whether you’re physically in this void or if you’re just unconscious.

That is until you hear ringing in your ears, and light starts flooding in. You gasp aloud as if you finally made it to the surface after being underwater for more than you can handle. Your lungs hurt, and so does your head. As a matter of fact, now that you have regained consciousness, your entire body aches, and you’re tired. So tired. Your eyelids threaten to shut, but you’re trying your best not to lose consciousness again.

Where are you? 

What happened?

You push yourself upward and slump against the wall, choking out a gasp and breathing heavily. Your heart hurts— you didn’t think it was possible for you to feel your heart hurting to the point where you want to cry. Your vision is blurry, and you try to rub your eyes, but you can’t feel your arms. Exhaustion soon overtakes your body, and you fall unconscious.

Meanwhile, on the Astral Express, everyone is crowding around on the Parlor Car, their phones facing upward on the table. Everyone has been trying to call you, only for them to get a voicemail, or the call would fail to go through. The monotonous beep haunts their minds as everyone frantically tries to reach out to you.

“Are you sure the signal is good? Maybe we can’t call them because of the awful signal on the Astral Express,” Caelus comments, chewing on his nails.

March ignores Caelus’ comment. She presses her phone against her ears, listening to the ringing. If the signal was terrible, then how come the phone call was going through for her? The ringing stopped briefly, making March gasp, startling everyone on the Astral Express.

“Hi, this is [Y/N]! Sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now—”

March groans, ending the call. “Never mind. I thought they answered my call, but I was wrong,” March sighs in defeat, sliding her phone on the table.

The lights on the Astral Express flicker, and the door slams open. Nanook steps into the Parlor Car, his gold eyes scanning the Parlor Car, searching for your face. Nanook sighs and stays close to the entrance, running his hands through his hair. Just as Nanook feared: you’re not on the Astral Express either. 

Welt furrows his eyebrows at the Aeon of Destruction. “Nanook. Your presence is sudden,” says Welt.

“Where is [Y/N]? Are they not on the Astral Express?” Nanook asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Unfortunately, they’re not on the Astral Express. We,” Jing Yuan gestures to him, Blade, Luocha, Luka, Sampo, and Gepard, “were contacted by the Astral Express in hopes that [Y/N] is on the Xianzhou Luofu or Jarilo-VI. To everyone’s disappointment, they are nowhere to be found.”

After hearing Jing Yuan’s explanation, Nanook starts to visibly panic. The Aeon of Destruction paces back and forth, taking deep breaths and muttering something under his breath. Everyone on the Astral Express gazes at Nanook worriedly. This is the first time they see him act this way. Nanook has always had this cool, calm, and collected exterior. Nothing can phase him, and only you can get a reaction out of him.

Sampo raises a finger. “Hold up. Why are you asking us where [Y/N] is? Aren’t you the one who can communicate with [Y/N] inside their dreams?” Sampo asks, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrows at the Aeon.

“Nanook, have you been able to contact them by any chance? We’ve been hitting countless dead ends, and we’re really worried about them,” Gepard says, looking at Nanook pleadingly.

Nanook sighs and stops pacing. He looks at the people on the Astral Express with a deep frown. While Sampo is correct about him being able to communicate with you through your dreams, the people on the Astral Express, Xianzhou Luofu, and Jarilo-VI aren’t the only ones whose struggling to get into contact with you.

Nanook wasn’t able to contact you through your dreams prior to your disappearance. When Nanook brought you into this universe, Nanook made sure to form this connection with you— this unbreakable bond between you and him. But despite creating this unbreakable bond, it somehow severed, and he can no longer contact you through your dreams and unconscious state.

This bond is supposed to be a way for him to track you anywhere in this universe. No matter how out of reach you are from him. Whether you’re in the Astral Express, on Jarilo-VI, the Xianzhou Luofu, the void, etc., Nanook should be able to feel your presence somewhere throughout the universe. Nanook mutters something, closing his eyes and pulling at the roots of his hair with frustration.

“What’s Nanook saying?” Himeko whispers, not taking her eyes off the anguish Aeon.

Luka whispers, “He’s muttering something about [Y/N] and the bond between them. I can’t hear what Nanook is saying, but those are the things I can pick out.”

Dan Heng stares at his phone intently, staring at your contact picture while listening to the monotonous ring. This is the fourth attempt. The fourth time he’s tried to call you, only for there to be a voicemail or just constant beeping that’s shaking him to his core. You can be anywhere in the universe, and finding your precise location without you telling them where you’re at will be the most challenging thing they deal with.

“Are they still not answering their phone, Dan Heng?” Luocha asks, approaching the black-haired man.

Dan Heng sighs, ending the call when he hears your voicemail through the speakers. “No,” Dan Heng mutters, shaking his head.

Blade stares at the panicking Nanook, frowning deeply. Blade sighs, rubbing his temples with shaky hands. As much as Blade wishes he was mishearing the things Nanook was muttering to himself, the more Blade thinks about it, the more it makes sense. Nanook is the one that brought you into this universe— he should know your exact location no matter what planet and fleet you’re on. Nanook should be able to communicate with you through your dreams or unconscious state, and because Nanook is visibly panicking and stressing out over your whereabouts, Blade concludes that—

“Your connection with [Y/N] has been severed, isn’t it?” Blade asks, breaking the tense silence in the Astral Express and bringing Nanook out of his thoughts.

Nanook clenches his jaws, nodding. “It has been severed, unfortunately. I do not know how it happened, and I’m sure [Y/N] isn’t the one that severed it. There’s no way for them to sever the connection,” Nanook replies.

Everyone stares at Nanook in horror. If Nanook is unable to contact you, then it’s very unlikely they’ll be able to find you sooner. You, [Y/N]. The same person not from their universe, the same precious star everyone holds dear to their hearts— whether as a best friend, little sibling, or a small crush that developed into something bigger— the same star that shines the brightest in the universe. You’re somewhere out there in the universe, exposed to dangers you’re not used to handling. Heck, everyone didn’t plan on letting you be exposed to any hazards that exist in this universe, but now?

“So, you’re saying there’s no way for any of us to contact [Y/N]?” Welt asks, raising his eyebrows at Nanook.

While Welt looks calm on the outside, the man is freaking out internally. How did this happen in the first place? You were supposed to be safe and sound under his watch, but you suddenly disappeared without a trace, and no one was able to reach out to you or track you down. Not even the Aeon of Destruction is able to track you down, and the Aeon has connections with you— well, had a connection with you.

“What are we going to do now, Mr. Yang? Searching for [Y/N] seems impossible at this point,” Caelus says, plopping down on the chair and running his hands through his hair.

Jing Yuan shakes his head. “I’ll have Yanqing lead the Cloud Knights to search throughout the Xianzhou Luofu,” Jing Yuan says, taking his phone from the table and sending rapid texts to his blond retainer.

Gepard nods. “And I will have the Silvermane Guards patrol the Overworld and the Underworld. If they see [Y/N], their duty is to detain [Y/N] until we arrive to get them,” says Gepard as he grabs his phone to message Dunn.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Detain [Y/N]? As in, keep them in cuffs and behind bars?!” Sampo exclaims, propping his hands on his hips, and looks at Gepard with disbelief.

Gepard, Welt, Nanook, and Dan Heng sigh simultaneously, rubbing their temples and pinching the bridge of their noses after hearing Sampo’s question. March snorts, rolling her eyes. The door to the Parlor Car opens. Pom-Pom waddles into the room, his eyes scanning the Parlor Car for a familiar face other than the ones that are present. 

Pom-Pom sighs with disappointment. “I see that none of you have found [Y/N],” Pom-Pom says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Himeko gives Pom-Pom a sympathetic look. “Sorry, Pom-Pom, but we still haven’t found them. They’re not answering our texts or phone calls, and not even Nanook can contact them,” Himeko replies.

Pom-Pom sighs and waddles to the Phonograph, pressing his forehead against the machine. A dark stormy cloud looms over Pom-Pom’s head as he lets out a string of whimpers and sniffles. Everyone on the Astral Express nearly forgot about how close you and Pom-Pom are. The closeness between you two is adorable, and Pom-Pom treats you like his favorite passenger on the Astral Express. Well, you are his favorite passenger. There’s no denying it. Sometimes, when everyone is asleep, you would keep Pom-Pom company and spoil him with his favorite snacks.

Of course, that was before Nanook became a passenger on the Express. Now you would keep Pom-Pom company on the nights you can’t sleep or when Nanook isn’t on the Astral Express due to his duty as the Aeon of Destruction.

“Pom-Pom?” March asks softly.

Pom-Pom turns to face them, his eyes blurred with tears. “How could all of you fail to protect someone that protected me!?” Pom-Pom wails, tears cascading down his cheeks. “What if we never see them again? They could be in danger!”

Everyone looks away, their shoulders slumping. Pom-Pom’s right. They did fail to protect you— this is the second time they failed to protect you, and they wish they could turn back time and prevent it from happening.

“There’s nothing to worry about. We’ll find [Y/N] and bring [Y/N] back to the Astral Express, alright?” Luka says, kneeling in front of Pom-Pom and patting the conductor’s head.

Pom-Pom whimpers. “But what if they’re injured?” Pom-Pom whispers.

“Then I will do everything in my power to heal them,” Luocha answers.

You’re rudely awoken by the sharp pain in your lower abdomen. You gasp and sit up, letting out a strained gasp and whimper. You look down at your body, now realizing the state you’re in. You don’t remember what exactly happened, but the more you look at your surroundings, the more you start piecing things together. You were attacked by the Mara-struck. It happened so fast that you weren’t able to comprehend what happened before it was too late.

And now you’re here, on Cloudford, bleeding out, going in and out of consciousness, with no cell signal to call or text your traveling companions. You can’t even contact Nanook due to the severed connection between you and the Aeon of Destruction. No matter how many times you lose consciousness, Nanook isn’t there— even if you scream his name, bloody murder. You will always be in the void, alone and searching for the Aeon that brought you into his universe.

You sprawl out on the ground, digging your phone from your pockets. Your vision blurs every few minutes, making it hard for you to do your task. You turn your phone on, attempting to call the first person on your contact list. Blade.

You tried to call Blade, but the call didn’t go through. You tried calling every person on your contact list, but the call continues not to go through. You push yourself off the ground, nearly slipping on the pool of blood beneath you. It’s a miracle that you manage to hold on for so long. The question is: how much longer can you hold on? Black dots dotting your vision, you’re extremely tired, your eyelids are threatening to close, and your legs and arms are tingling.

“I can do this, I can do this,” you chanted, limping as far away as you can. “I’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.”

You’re not sure if giving yourself a false sense of hope is going to do any better. Still, it’s better to do that than lay in your puddle of blood, watching the time tick away and your life slipping from your fingers. With each step you take, you feel your strength slipping away. You’re exhausted, and everything hurts. The Mara-struck did not go easy on you until they assumed you were dead. 

As much as you wanted to blame yourself for not being careful enough, there’s no one else to blame. Not even yourself. People will blame you for not being careful and watching your surroundings, but is it really your fault? The Mara-struck are ruthless, and they’ll attack anyone and anything that is alive and not Mara-struck like them.

You’re brought out of your thoughts and self-pity when your foot gets caught over the other, sending you to the ground with a loud thump. You let out a screech of pain and remain on the ground as every part of your body is stinging and throbbing with pain. The small cuts on your body reopen as fresh blood oozes from the wounds, spilling to the ground.

“Please, just end my misery,” you whisper, tears rolling down your bloodstained cheeks as you slowly drift in and out of consciousness.

The faint sound of buzzing coming from your phone wakes you up. You gingerly turn your head to see the screen of your phone lighting up and vibrating. You reach for your phone and roll over on your side to see Blade calling you. You swipe to the green button and hear a faint scream and frantic voices coming from the other end of the call.

“Blade?” You croak, wincing when you feel how dry your throat feels.

Blade sighs in relief on the other side of the call. “Thank the Aeons, you’re okay. Where are you? Are you safe?” Blade asks.

You chuckle bitterly, close your eyes and continue to lie on the ground. At least you’ll be able to hear their voices one last time, right? It’s better to listen to their voice before…. Someone calls your name, grabbing your attention.

“Huh? Sorry, I didn’t catch onto what you were saying,” you mumble, squeezing your eyes shut and fighting back a whimper that’s crawling up your throat.

“[Y/N], please tell us where you are. We’re very worried about you,” Dan Heng says.

You sniffle. The pain is beginning to feel unbearable. Everything hurts so much, and you want someone or something to end your pain and suffering already. You shouldn’t have played dead when the Mara-struck attacked you for who knows how long. You should’ve let them end you right then and there so you wouldn’t have to continue to suffer like how you are right now.

“[Y/N]? Are you still with us?” Caelus asks, his voice crackling through the speakers.

Fuck. Is the connection starting to act up?

“Yeah, yeah. I’m still here,” you reply, black dots dotting your vision. Is it normal to see a small burst of stars in your eyes each time you blink? “Sorry, I’m not feeling well right now.”

The other end of the call falls silent after hearing your response. As of now, Jing Yuan and Gepard haven’t received any reports from the Silvermane Guards and Cloud Knights about finding you. 

The General of the Xianzhou Luofu and the Captain of the Silvermane Gaurds text their trusted companions regarding the search, only for Dunn and Yanqing to reply that they have yet to find out despite the number of Cloud Knights and Silvermane Guards scrambling to find you. 

Mr. Yang walks over to Blade and takes the phone from his hands. “Sweetheart, can you look at your surroundings and tell us where you are? Even if you don’t know the precise location, do you know whether you’re on the Xianzhou Luofu or Jarilo-VI?” Mr. Yang asks.

“I’m on, uh, the Xianzhou Luofu. The Mara-struck…” you trail off, closing your eyes. Your hands are shaking— you don’t think you can hold your phone up any longer. Your arms feel awfully weak, and your phone feels heavy.

Jing Yuan’s voice crackles over the speakers. “What happened with the Mara-struck?”

Jing Yuan sounds frantic.

You shrug, completely forgetting that the others can’t see you. “They attacked me out of nowhere. They left me for dead, and there’s blood. So much blood,” you whisper, cracking your eyes open and looking at your surrounding.

“[Y/N], can you turn on the video call so we can see where you are?” Gepard asks, his voice crackling in the speakers.

You sigh, gritting your teeth as you turn on the video call. Your face appears on the screen— if you weren’t bleeding out and losing consciousness every few minutes, you would be gasping in horror at the sight of your reflection. Dear Aeons, you look horrendous. You blindly show your surroundings for the men to see where you’re at, but you don’t think you’re doing it correctly. Your arm soon grew tired, and your arms collapsed beside you.

“I’m really sleepy, guys,” you whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat. You nearly gagged when you tasted a mouthful of blood. You don’t know how much more you can hold on until they find you.

“Does anyone recognize that area? We’re not from the Xianzhou Luofu— nothing looks familiar for us,” Sampo mutters, gazing at the others worriedly.

Luocha steps forward and takes Blade’s phone from Mr. Yang’s grasp. “I know this is going to be complicated for you, but do not fall asleep, alright? Keep your eyes open and try to stop the bleeding. We’ll be right there soon,” Luocha instructs.

The men hear and see nothing coming from Blade’s phone. The camera is pointed to the sky of  the Xianzhou Luofu— they see the color of your hair peeking in the corner. You rub your eyes and press your hands against the deep gash on your abdomen. You lift your head to see various cuts on your body. All are bleeding.

You whisper, “Which ones do I cover? There’s too many,” you mumble, gazing at the gashes with bleary eyes. 

You let your head fall back on the ground, attempting to cover up as many as you can. How much longer are you going to hold on? You can hear a commotion coming through Blade’s phone as you lie on the ground, your phone lying beside your head. You didn’t think you could die in a universe you didn’t belong to.

“Stay on the phone with us, alright? We’ll be there soon, we promise,” you hear Blade say through the phone.

You can’t tell if Blade is panicking or not. He sounds so far away, no matter how close your phone is to your ears. How could this have happened anyway? It was all your fault, wasn’t it? Were you reckless like last time? No, no. Last time, the Astral Express was under attack. But this time, you left the Astral Express and ended up getting attacked by the Mara-struck. And now look at you, bleeding out on the Xianzhou Luofu while trying to stay conscious.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” You whisper, staring at the clear blue sky above you.

Luka grunts. “We’re not mad at you, [Y/N]. We’re very worried about you,” Luka replies.

Luka is trying his best to remain calm, but his heart is racing against his chest to the point he fears it might burst. 

You close your eyes, feeling nausea hitting you. “Is Nanook mad at me?” you ask weakly.

Dan Heng looks at Nanook from the corner of his eyes as they run through Cloudford, searching for you. It’s just them racing against the clock to get to where you are— racing against the clock to save you. But will they make it on time before you lose consciousness?

Dan Heng shakes his head. “I’m sure he’s not mad at you, [Y/N]. Why do you think that?”

You crack a smile. “I… Nanook and I aren’t connected with each other anymore. Did I do something wrong for him to sever that tie between us?” You whisper, tears blurring your vision. “If I did something to upset him, please let him know that I’m sorry for whatever it is that I have done to upset him.”

Nanook snatches the phone and gazes into the camera, his gold eyes searching for your face. “I’m not mad at you, little one. However, if you lose consciousness, I will be upset with you,” Nanook states.

You laugh weakly, tears rolling down the side of your face. “I’m sorry, everyone. I’m sorry for not being strong enough,” you whisper.

Just when you lose consciousness, you feel someone cradle you in their arms. Your vision slowly turns black as the voices around you fade away— almost sounding like you’re underwater, sinking deeper into the depths.

“No, no, no, no! Please don’t leave me,” Nanook whispers, pressing you against his chest.

Your head lolls back, laying limp in his arms as blood continues to pour out of your wounds. Luocha kneels before you and Nanook, frantically trying to heal the cuts and deep gashes on your body. Sampo, March, and Himeko look nauseous at the sight of the pool of blood below you and Nanook.

March looked away, closing her eyes as a stray tear made its way down her cheeks. “Please tell me [Y/N]’s going to be okay, please,” March pleads.

Nanook presses his index and middle finger against the side of your neck, frantically searching for a pulse. Nanook buries his face into your neck, his body wracking with sobs as he holds onto you tighter. You can’t be gone. Please, please, please, please. Luocha’s hands fall to his side, and he looks away. 

“Well?” Dan Heng demands, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

Luocha shakes his head, tears rolling down his flushed cheeks. Luocha grabs your cold hand and presses a kiss on your knuckles. Maybe in another lifetime, you will meet them again. But for now, stars don’t live on forever.

Note: Just because this is angst with death doesn't mean it impacts the overall HSR isekai series. This is a mini-fic, and to make it up to all of you, I will make a Nanook smut for this upcoming week! Yes, smut is finally here! Nanook got the majority of votes. Therefore Nanook is the first HSR male character to be getting smut! As I have stated in my Genshin Isekai fics, the fics in the series are like my multi-verse. Anything can happen in these fics, but it will not significantly impact the overall series. So, even if something traumatic happened to the reader in one fic, the next fic, it never happened to the reader. Some things will impact the story, but others won't be mentioned in other fics. For those who want to be on the taglist, here is the [Google Form]. For those who want to join the Discord server but weren't able to, here is the new temporary link to [Zhongli's Abode]! Please make sure to read the server rules— you can lurk, chat and hang out on the server if you'd like! If you don't vibe with the server, you can leave whenever you want ^^ To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for the HSR one-shot series: @mompt2, @elegantnightblaze, @lunavixia, @jadedist, @reversearrowhead, @pinksaiyans, @aurelia-xyt, @lilliansstuff, @ssunset0, @starrry-angel, @kaoyamamegami, @kodzuvk, @for3very0urs, @a-cosmicdawn, @g3n0dtt, @theblades, @raaawwwr, @immahuman, @irisxiel, @siaracarroll, @crazydreamcat, @sagekun, @orichalcumthief, @dyingsweetmackerel, @rosiesareblue, @ichikanu, @hispasian-otaku, @asoulsreverie (Accounts that I was unable to tag are not tagged in this fic. Those who do not want to be tagged in a specific fic are not tagged. Remember to check your settings to see if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[gothamite-rambler]

A Smoothie and a Second Chance

Context: I'm more a RobStar (Kori and Dick) shipper over Babs and Dick shipper. I write fanfiction and my ADHD brain thought about how Starfire's planet handled relationships differently than Earth and from what I read they have more poly/open relationships. With the best write it's described as that not that she's a person who is callous towards earth dating, it'd just that for her planet her style of dating is how majority of the Earth has monogamy as the usual dating style. I imagine Dick was shocked by this and because they were young they ended things sadly. That and other issues. Years passed and eventually Kori joined the Outlaws with Jason's team (not randomly sleeping around like that one comic) and Dick explored open relationships after being with Kori and wanting to learn more about it and while it's an adjustment, he gets it. They love each other and this is them meeting up again and rekindling the relationship, doing what makes them both happy and let the relationship flow better. This isn't them trying to save the relationship, this is two consenting adults doing something and know their love will always keep them together. This has taken numerous rewritings, deleting posts and three months lol. Sorry for this long context/author's note. Enjoy my silly ship Tumblr post that's connected my microfic lol.

Dick Grayson's Apartment - Mid-Afternoon

Dick Grayson, a.k.a. Nightwing, rolled out of bed, clearly exhausted from last night's patrol. He stayed dressed in his black and blue hero suit, his hair a shaggy mess around his head. He glanced at a clock, realizing he overslept.

Dick (mumbling to himself): I... need a smoothie. That should help. Can’t burn off these late-night snacks with just four hours of sleep.

He walked into the kitchen, preparing a mid-afternoon smoothie when he heard a sudden knock at the door. Without thinking, he opened it, still in his suit.

Koriand'r (beaming but then gasping, covering her mouth): You're still in the suit.

In a swift motion, Kori gently pushed him back inside and closed the door behind her. Dick looked down at his attire, bewildered.

Dick (smiling sheepishly): Huh, I am. That... has only happened a couple of times before.

Kori (raising an eyebrow): What did you do?

Dick: Well, I didn’t have my mask on. It turns out it’s surprisingly easy to convince the mailman that I'm really into cosplay.

Kori giggled, playfully patting him on the shoulder. Enjoying the moment, Dick pulled her into a quick hug, and her smile deepened.

Dick: I missed you.

Kori: I missed you too... a lot. But I wanted to talk about something important.

Dick led her over to the couch, keeping on his suit, and sat down beside her.

Dick: I can change later. How have your missions been with the Outlaws? What kind of criminals have you dealt with? Anyone cute?

Kori laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Kori: You are too much. Joining the Outlaws is fun and thrilling. It’s an adjustment seeing Jason shoot people with a gun, but he’s getting better. Plus, he’s funny.

Dick (chuckling): He made a lot of dead people jokes?

Kori: Oh yeah, without a doubt! And when I wasn’t out with them, I was tanning, reading, hitting those dance halls with the loud music and flashing lights.

Dick: You sleep with any cute guys? Tell me I want to see if I can set up a second date.

Dick and Kori chuckled together, but as their laughter faded, Kori's typical bright smile took on a more wistful tone.

Kori: My romantic exploits? Honestly, boring. Some of my partners treated me like just another ‘prospect to screw,’ as Earthlings say. It was... stale.

Dick nodded understanding what she meant.

Dick: I can relate... sort of. I haven't done much serious dating, but some women seem overly focused on my butt. Sometimes I wish we could talk about something else or just not get random butt smacks.

Kori (laughing, resting her arms on the chair):

Right? And it really hurts when they pinch it!

Dick: Yes, like take me out to dinner first.

They share a laugh, the connection bringing a refreshing warmth. Kori then let out a contented sigh, her expression shifting to a more serious tone.

Kori: I really missed this— being with you. It might sound odd, but being away from you... especially after our breakup, made me realize how much I cherish our time together. You always knew how to take charge and have fun. I still... love that and you.

She hid her face in embarrassment as Dick’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t feel upset; he understood her feelings all too well and missed being with Kori himself. Never in his wildest dreams did he think she would express the same sentiments.

Kori

Oh gosh, I'm sorry.

Dick (kindly): Why are you apologizing? I’m not upset.

Kori I’m relieved, but our relationship fell apart due to our lack of communication and my failure to explain how dating works on Tamaran and didn't take your concerns seriously and I hurt-

Dick (placing a hand on her arm): Kori, if you believe I thought you were cheating on me, that’s not how I saw it at all. It was just a lot to adjust to back then, but we’re adults now. Forget about the bodysuit I’m wearing; just imagine I'm in my pajamas.

Dick chuckled and playfully tugged at her arm, hoping to lighten the mood. Kori's hands dropped away from her face, and they locked eyes.

Dick: I promise you, if I ever felt any anger about our what happened with our past relationship, I don't feel that way anymore. I've always loved you too, Star.

Kori's expression lit up, and she scooted closer to him, bringing a smile to his face as he saw her cheerful demeanor return.

Kori: Okay... um, if we’re giving this another blast, how about a date... with me... at the Walmart?

**Dick cackle-laughed, holding his head down before looking up to reassure her gently.*

Dick: I’m sorry for laughing, but why Walmart?

Kori: They have that sandwich shop there, and Jason claimed it’s a romantic spot.

Dick lowered his head with a sigh, understanding that she was referring to the Subway inside Walmart that Jason had mentioned to her.

Dick (cheekily): He was messing with you, but I’d love to go on a date with you.

Kori: Oh, really? That's great! I'll take care of Jason later, but do you still want to go there or somewhere else?

Dick: What do you want to do? I feel like we can agree on something fun.

Kori tapped her chin, a hint of nostalgia in her eyes.

Kori: I remember when you took me to an arcade when we were teens. We had so much fun and won each other prizes. Want to go there? They also have great fries.

Dick: What time is it?

Kori: Three in the pm.

Dick: Right, I slept in late today. Sure, that sounds like a solid date. I just need to shower and change into regular clothes and then I'll be ready.

Kori: I can wait... I just want to be with you... again.

They share a meaningful glance before leaning in for a kiss. Their lips meet softly at first, a gentle testing of the waters. The kiss quickly deepened, ignited by the chemistry that had long simmered between them. Dick’s breath catches as Kori’s warmth envelops him, unleashing butterflies in his stomach as they discover a new language of passion. Each touch and caress speaks of longing and a bond that feels unbreakable.

As they slowly pull away, smiles light up their faces, both filled with joy. Dick's eyes sparkled as he looks at Kori, a soft chuckle escaping him.

Dick (jokingly): That usually happens after the date.

Kori (giggling): We’re different, aren’t we? But one thing...

Dick: Yeah?

Kori: How do we handle this? Earth, Tamaran, poly, mono, —

Dick (laughing): You meant monogamy, but I’m not concerned about who you’re with while on a mission or trip. That’s how you explained it works for you, and I get it. I know you're not vindictive, and I hope you won't worry about what I do. Even though I have a lot of love to give, I’ll always be here with you.

Kori: I feel the same way. I love you, Dick.

Dick: I love you too, Kori. You can breathe now; I can see you were stressed about this.

Kori’s shoulders dropped in relief, her head dropping with a heavy happy sigh.

Kori: You have no idea.

They share a warm, quiet moment together, knowing they are stepping forward into something new yet deeply familiar.

[potatoplace]

Omega Needs - Chapter 5

Feylin, eventual Feysand

chapter 4 | chapter 6 | series masterlist

Story Summary: Feyre presented as an omega after being changed into a high fae Under the Mountain. Her heats have been hellish, and Tamlin has neglected certain aspects of her presentation. After the disastrous wedding ceremony, how will Feyre’s omega handle being away from her Alpha?

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, nothing else that I can think of

Words: ~6.5k

Author's Note: it's here! Very heavy on explaining magical growth, just fyi. Nothing to complicated, and I think I made it all make sense? Anyways, I'm super excited about this chapter and the next one, I'm hoping to have C6 out in a couple of days if I can manage it. Also I love making Rhys obviously care for Feyre, he's so sweet and considerate towards heeer 🥹

18+ only pls

🩵💜🩵

The book was fascinating.

Feyre had no idea how complex the magical growth process was before reading, no one had bothered to explain it to her, she had simply went on believing that there was some type of magical core that stored the power.

While there was a core holding spot, located in the body’s center of gravity according to the book, that was present from birth. In the first ten or so years of life, depending on the fae and the size of their initial core, the expansion of power is slow, but after the tenth birthday or so the first major expansion happens.

The magical core pushes outward, burning new channels into the body to carry magic, starting with the blood vessels. Pain was expected with each new expansion, the magic making a physical mark inside of the body to increase the overall capacity.

Feyre frowned, knowing that she had never felt any kind of expansion through her body. Though, with being Made, that process could very well have happened before she returned to her body from that endless void. She pressed a hand to her chest, attempting to find any kind of warmth or something that would indicate a well of power within her. But, there was nothing. She shook her head and continued reading.

Up through maturity, fae would continue to have magical growth within their body, every few years or if they consistently exhausted their magic. At around 50, when almost all fae are considered to be adults, growth usually stops, leaving the fae with their fully formed magical core. The only exception was to those with extremely large cores, such as the High Lords or their heirs, who typically had an expansion every century or so to keep the magic from eating away their body.

She wondered if Rhysand continued having them, being known as the most powerful High Lord in history.

He’s probably bragged about it to the other High Lords before, she thought, snorting at the image her mind created. Rhysand, standing in front of Beron, boasting about how “his core had tripled in size in the past few centuries, could he believe it? And what about you, Beron?” With his signature smirk.

She made it through the first two chapters before Nuala knocked on her door.

“Come in,” Feyre said, sitting up from her slumped position on the bed.

The door opened, revealing the wraith carrying a tray with a couple of dishes on top. Feyre stood, stretching her limbs and shaking the stiffness from her body.

“I brought you some lunch, Feyre. There’s soup, bread, and…” she turned around, revealing a midnight blue, large cylindrical cup with a lid. “This, I thought you might like something to keep water in that won’t spill everywhere.” Nuala offered the cup to Feyre, who took it and screwed the lid off, taking a few large gulps of water, not having realized how thirsty she was while wrapped up in the book.

“Thank you, Nuala, this is perfect. And I’d completely forgotten about lunch, I’m so glad you remembered! It smells wonderful, thank you,” Feyre said gratefully, taking a seat at the table.

“It’s no problem at all, Feyre. Rhys had asked me if you’d had lunch yet, and wanted me to bring you something soon before it would spoil your appetite for dinner,” Nuala replied, walking out of the door after she’d flashed Feyre a soft smile.

Feyre smiled to herself, genuinely touched that Rhysand seemed to care for her well-being. Nearly everything he had done since she had arrived proved that.

The soup was divine, and Feyre spied the same blend of root vegetables as were in the stew yesterday, this time with chicken instead of beef, what looked to some type of mushroom and soft spiralled noodles. It was spiced gently, a comforting flavor that she thought would be perfect if she ever caught an illness like a cold or flu. There were two delightfullly flaky rolls as well, and a nicely sized pad of butter waiting to be spread on with a knife. The meal was perfection, matching wonderfully with the slightly chilled breeze that was wafting in from the open wall in front of her. Both meals she had taken in her room were a lovely match to the autumn season, and she couldn't help but wonder why back in Spring, they only ever attempted to eat for the true season they were in at solstices.

Perhaps it was the lack of root vegetables that grew in Spring, but surely the courts traded goods among themselves?

Feyre shook the thought from her head, it isn't truly important what type food she eats, the food back in Spring was lovely as well.

Once she finished her meal, she crawled back onto her bed, laying on her stomach with a pillow underneath her chest, feet kicking lazily in the air as she continued onto the next chapter.

This one covered the actual expressions of magic that began appearing as fae aged.

Supposedly, the first signs appeared from birth to the first year, small things, like a candle being blown out when the window is shut, or a blanket being singed lightly.

After the first year, the magic fades, only returning in greater force and frequency once the child was around five, their core having expanded a bit more.

Feyre furrowed her brow. She and Tamlin had been trying adamantly for a child over the past year. Feyre herself wanted to bring a sweet, new life into this world, someone that she could protect as much as possible from the cruelty of the world. She wanted to watch her and Tamlin's child grow older, turn into their own person. Tamlin had been interested in that as well, but a driving force for him was the need for an heir to continue his family's bloodline, something that Feyre was all too happy to do for him.

But, if they were trying for a child, why had Tamlin not at least explained some of the basics of what to expect before they started?

Though, seeing as how no facets of her possible magic had been explained to her, perhaps he had assumed she knew implicitly somehow, or that Ianthe had explained it to her. And if he had, well, he was definitely incorrect. Feyre felt so in the dark now, having learned more in one afternoon than in a year back home.

Feyre promised herself that she would talk to him about it when she returned home.

She had nearly finished the chapter, longer than the first two, when another knock came on her door, prompting her to close the book and sit up.

“Come in.”

The door opened, revealing Rhysand who stood in a fine black suit, a welcoming smile on his face.

“Dinner is ready, Feyre. If you’re ready now, we can walk down together,” he suggested gently, still giving her an out in case she would rather go alone.

Feyre smiled back at him, getting up from her bed and sliding her flats back on. “I’m ready now.” She crossed the room, shutting the door behind her, and his scent washed over her. Every time, it made her heart flutter a little bit, which confused her but she took as just another interesting development in her body since becoming an omega.

Rhysand beamed at her then, another clear sign that he truly wanted to be friends with her.

They walked together to the table they had breakfast at, and a mouthwatering smell overtook Feyre’s senses the closer that they got to it.

On the table was a pan holding a roast, beef if Feyre was correct, surrounded by perfectly tender root vegetables. There was a bowl of mashed potatoes, a carafe of gravy, and large loaf of bread on a cutting board, steam still wafting from it as they sat down.

Rhysand began to carve the roast, giving two large slices to Feyre and scooping a hearty portion of vegetables onto her plate as well, then served himself. Feyre helped herself to a large spoonful of mashed potatoes, making a dent in the middle with her spoon after passing the serving spoon into Rhysand’s hands. She poured a generous amount of gravy on, even pouring a small amount on top of the roast.

Feyre had gone to pass the carafe to Rhysand, when she looked at his face, a look of bemusement on it.

“What?”

“You made a hole for gravy in your potatoes.”

Feyre raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Rhysand shook his head. “Nothing, you just reminded me of one of my brothers,” He said quickly. “Cassian always did love to have as much gravy as he could fit on his plate,” he stated with a fondness in his eyes, taking the gravy from her hands and pouring some on his potatoes before setting it down.

“I didn’t think you had any siblings,” Feyre voiced, never having seen anyone who even resembled him Under the Mountain. Then again, Feyre had not seen Mor until this morning.

“Oh, Cassian is more of a brother by choice, we met in the Illyrian camps when we were young. He, Azriel, and I have been thick as thieves since then, and considered ourselves true family regardless of our blood,” Rhysand answered as he cut the loaf of bread, passing a slice to Feyre, and she couldn’t help but smile at the softness in his face when he talked about them. So many different sides to this male, so many different facets of his personality that she had barely gotten a glimpse at.

“That sounds nice, having a family that you love because you want to, rather than being forced to,” Feyre said as she buttered her bread, thinking about her still human family. How difficult it had always been to just survive around them, every day like walking on eggshells to keep a fight from exploding and destroying them once and for all.

“I am sure that the two of them would love to call you their sister,” Rhysand offered. “If you would like to meet them at some point, I could ask them to visit while you’re here.” Feyre thought about his suggestion for a moment, then nodded.

“That would be nice, I think, to meet them at some point.”

Rhysand smiled again. “I’ll float the idea past them this month, then. And I’ll make sure to check with you before they show up, they can be a bit… much. Cassian especially, he can be similar to a very excitable puppy at times.”

Feyre snorted at that, then took her first bite of the roast, suppressing a moan at the flavor. The meat was so tender it melted in her mouth, the flavor of the vegetables and whatever spices were used pairing perfectly with it.

Rhysand was watching her again, and she quirked an eyebrow at him, causing him to take a bite of his own meal.

They ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, before Feyre set her fork down.

“What are the blue and brown vegetables called?” She asked.

Rhysand blinked at her, swallowing the bite he had been chewing.

“They’re both native to Illyria, the blue one is a called ilpato, and the brown one is parillya.”

Feyre nodded her head, trying to remember the names. Ilpato and parillya. “What’s Illyria?”

“Well, the Illyria is a vast expanse of lands, particularly brutal year round, with the Steppes almost always having a layer of snow on them. It’s home to the Illyrians, a race of fae known for their inherent killing power and large wings.” Those same wings suddenly appeared behind Rhysand, taking Feyre’s breath away. They were beautiful, brutal, yes, with clawed tips at the apex, but the leathery expanse of them was black until the light hit it just right, making the delicate membranes visible.

Feyre’s fingers itched to commit them to canvas, paper, anything at all.

“My mother was Illyrian, and I thank her every day for the wings she gifted me. We value the freedom of flight above all else, and there has yet to be a sensation to compare to it in my life.”

Feyre’s mind ran wild, and she could almost feel the breeze in her hair.

She longed for that feeling. Pure freedom.

“Is your mother…?”

Rhysand loosed a sigh. “No, she and my sister passed quite some time ago, though I miss both of them dearly every day.” A wistful smile graced his face, and he continued, “They both would have adored you, that I know for sure. They always did like someone who could challenge me the same way they did.”

A blush crept onto Feyre’s cheeks, and she shoved a bite of creamy, gravy covered potatoes in her mouth.

The rest of the dinner passed comfortably, the two of them finishing their plates at the same time.

Rhysand walked Feyre back to her room, those massive, breathtaking wings still out, and the two of them lingered in her doorway for a moment.

“Have a good night, Feyre.”

“You too, Rhys. Dinner was amazing. Tell Nuala and Cerridwen that they outdo themselves with every meal I’ve had since arriving.”

Rhysand smiled, and Feyre could have sworn she saw a bit of extra color in his cheeks.

“I will, darling, they’ll be happy to hear it.” And with that, he walked away. Feyre watched him for a moment, before entering her room and closing the door behind her.

The sun was setting, and Feyre wanted nothing more than to take bath and watch it slip below the horizon.

She padded over to her bathroom, kicking off her flats just outside the door. She shucked off her sweater and leggings, tossing them into the laundry basket inside of the bathroom. Grabbing a hair tie and putting it up into a bun, Feyre sank down into the tub, submerging all but her head.

The sunset was gorgeous, yellow fading to a pale orange, into a soft pink. It would make a lovely painting, she thought to herself.

Feyre let out a sigh, and turned her attention to the soaps and scented oils lined up on the edge of the tub connected to the wall. She sniffed a few bottles of oils, settling on sweet blend of lavender and orange blossom, a scent that instantly made her relaxed and a little sleepy. Pouring a small amount directly into the bath then placing it back in its spot, Feyre reclined back against the edge of the tub, soaking in the view and oil’s scent.

Taking her time, she leisurely washed herself, getting out once the sky had turned to purples and blues and drying off with a fluffy towel.

Feyre returned to her bedroom, flinging open the wardrobe to pick out pajamas for the night.

She flicked through the nightgowns, stopping on one that was made of a soft, sheer fabric in a pale pink. The long sleeves puffed out into wide sleeves that would still feel comfortable and free while sleeping, and the bottom of the dress would probably reach her ankles. Feyre pulled it off of the hanger, slipping it over her shoulders. The dress was loose but comfortable, skirt of it wide enough that Feyre was tempted to twirl in it to see the way the fabric moved.

Feyre felt so girly in it, so soft and sweet. She wished Tamlin could see her in it, hear the words he’d whisper in her ear while he hugged her from behind. She wrapped her arms around herself, smiling like a lovesick idiot at the thought.

It felt different than the girly dresses she was given at home, perhaps it was that she had chosen to wear it, or maybe it was how comfortable it was in comparison. The ones in Spring were made of fabric that was the tiniest bit scratchy, or clung to her body just a little too much. And, the patterns Ianthe picked out for her… well, they weren’t Feyre’s taste at all.

She fisted the material of the dress, shaking it back and forth. The fabric moved like water, just as Feyre was hoping. It was beautiful.

Feyre walked back over to her bed, picking up the book Rhysand had given her and cracking it open once again, just to finish the chapter she had started before dinner.

It took her a half an hour, by the end of which she was yawning every couple of minutes. She placed the book on her bedside table, then peeled the covers back, climbing underneath them and placing her head on a pillow.

Feyre looked out at the stars, loving the way they glimmered in the dark night sky, and they were the last thing she saw before she drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

🩵💜🩵

The next morning, Feyre woke on her own to the sun already over the horizon. She let out a yawn, her arms stretching fully at the same time. She reached for her water cup, screwing off the lid and taking a few swigs before replacing it and setting it back where she’d grabbed it from.

Feyre stood up and made her way into the bathroom, nightgown swishing gently around her ankles. She brushed her teeth and hair, straightening out her appearance.

She felt more energized than she had in a while, almost like a weight was lifted off her heart. She couldn’t fathom why, though.

Back in her room, she picked out a matching lilac top and pants. The pants came up to her bellybutton and were loose until her ankles, where they came in to cuff her ankles, and the top was long sleeved and similarly designed to the pant legs, coming down to just above her bellybutton, leaving a small strip of skin visible between the two pieces of clothing. The lilac looked lovely with her skin tone, still fairly pale but less so than a year ago, and the clothing itself was comfortable and easy to move in. She picked up a pair of matching slippers, sliding them onto her feet and walking to her door.

After leaving her room, Feyre made her way into the library, wanting to find some kind of adventure or romance story to read for the day in addition to the book on magical development. She wandered through the stacks, and finally found herself in what seemed to be the fiction section. Perfect.

Feyre picked out a few books that seemed promising; a romance about an affair between a princess and her personal guard, one about a band of thieves recruited by their court to infiltrate their enemies, and another that was just a simple slice of life of an omega and her alpha starting a family. She was excited to read all of them, though it was likely she would only get through one during this week.

Feyre made her way back to her room, already reading the one about a princess as she did.

And then she crashed into something solid.

“Good morning, Feyre darling,” Rhysand said amusedly, and when Feyre looked up at him he had a grin on his face, his violet eyes staring down at her and scent filling her nose. His wings were hidden again, how he managed that trick, Feyre wanted to know.

“Oh, Rhys, I’m so sorry!” She exclaimed, closing the book that had crushed against his chest and stepping back, her cheeks turning a bright red. “I suppose I shouldn’t be reading while walking, hmm?” Feyre shook her head, then asked “Is breakfast ready yet?”

“Yes, I was just coming to get you, Feyre. Mor is eagerly awaiting you, she nearly chased me down here herself but coffee seemed to be more important,” He chuckled, turning to walk with Feyre back to the door of her room.

“I’ll just go set these in my room, okay?” Feyre opened the door, rushing inside and chucking the books in her bed, coming back into the hallway and resuming their walk towards the dining table.

“I’m glad you’re exploring on your own a bit, I know it must still be a bit unsettling being in a new environment,” Rhysand said as they walked.

“Ah, well, I wanted something else to read along with the book you loaned me,” Feyre admitted. “The book is very interesting, but sometimes it’s nice to have something a bit mindless to do, for me at least.”

Rhysand nodded his head in agreement. “I understand that. Sometimes it’s nice to have a different world fill your head instead of the one that contains all of your problems.”

“You get it,” Feyre said as they approached the table, Mor waiting impatiently with a stack of catalogues on the table in front of where she was seated.

“Feyre! Good morning, lovely! Now, I know you didn’t say yes to my offer for shopping booklets, but I decided that I would bring them to you anyways, just in case the mood to spend Rhys’s money does come to you,” the alpha said, placing them to the side of Feyre’s plate after she sat down. “There are some for furniture, bedding, nesting fabrics, books, clothing of course. I think I also managed to snag a cosmetics one in case you wanted some. Oh and a couple little pamphlets from restaurants that I love!”

Feyre swiped through them quickly, the one boasting about nesting fabrics catching her eye. She’ll look at that one the first moment she’s alone.

For now, Feyre looked away from the large stack, turning her attention toward the plates of food.

Fluffy pancakes were stacked on a large plate, perfectly golden on each side and sweet smell wafting from them, sausages piled on a plate next to them and another large bowl of fruit like yesterday morning.

Feyre stabbed a two sausages, putting them on her plate before doing the same for Mor. Rhysand grabbed his own, spooning a good amount of fruit onto his plate as well, then doing the same for Feyre and Mor.

“My, my, you two are so helpful,” Mor said, watching them serve the food. She picked up three pancakes and dropped them on her plate, pouring some sweet, rich maple syrup on top of them and immediately carving into them.

A blush rose to Feyre’s cheeks. She had never been one to willingly serve people before becoming an omega, but now it was a simple way for her to show her care and respect. And truly, she loved it. A small act of service could bring a smile to a loved one’s face, and that was much more important to her now that she had come back to life, everything seeming more precious to her than before.

“I just like being nice when I can,” Feyre explained, grabbing three pancakes for herself. She buttered the top of each one, placing them in a stack on her plate, and then poured a generous amount of the syrup onto them. She carefully cut out a slice, stabbing the pieces and taking a bite. “Oh Mother, these are good!” She said once she finished swallowing.

“Yes, well, we do have the best cook staying here with us,” Mor explained. “They love to make delicious food to keep our guests happy and well fed.”

“Compliments to them,” Feyre replied, taking another bite of the heavenly pancakes.

“I’ll make sure to pass it along,” Rhysand says, sipping his coffee and watching the two females in front of him.

There was silence for a few minutes as they ate, lasting until they were nearly finished eating.

“So, Feyre, if you could travel anywhere in Prythian, or even the continent, where would you go?” Mor asked.

“More questions again today?” Feyre asked before thinking on it for a moment. “I suppose the Dawn Court sounds nice, I have always loved watching the sun rise.”

Mor nodded her head. “The Dawn Court is an amazing place, they have so many beautiful fields of flowers in the Spring and Summer! Maybe we could take a trip there during blooming season?”

It was enticing, the idea of exploring the world beyond the lands of Spring she had seen so far. “That sounds lovely, Mor. We could even make it a little girls’ trip, just the two of us.”

“Perfect! Oh, I’ll start planning today! How does seven months from now sound? That would be right around the peak blooming season, I believe.” Feyre nodded her head in agreement. “Rhys, you’ll talk to Thesan for us, please?”

“Of course, cousin, anything for the two of you,” He said easily, a smile gracing his face. “But for today, Feyre, I’d like to pull you away for training. We can go over whatever you’ve read, then practice shielding and calling on your magic if you feel up to it.”

Feyre’s head bobbed up and down as she finished her last bite of sausage, pushing her plate away. “That sounds like a good plan, Rhys.”

“Ugh, training. Count me out,” Mor said as she stood up from the table, taking her coffee mug with her.

“That’s fine cousin, you weren’t invited,” Rhys replied, a smirk on his lips.

“Oh, fuck off Rhys, you know I’ll help out with her at some point if Feyre would like.”

“Yeah, Rhys, Mor might be a better teacher than you are,” Feyre jested, and Rhys looked to her on mock offense.

“How rude are the two of you? Come on, Feyre, let’s go before she rubs off on you more,” He said, holding a hand out to Feyre after standing.

Feyre took it, getting up from her chair. Mor had already wandered off after sticking her tongue out at Rhys.

He led her back to the training room, ushering her inside and to the cushioned chair on the right. Sitting across from her, he clasped his hands together. “So, how far into the book have you gotten so far?”

“I got three chapters in, up through some of the beginning expressions of magic.”

“Good, that’s a fantastic start Feyre.” Feyre felt her cheeks heat slightly at the praise. “Did you have any questions about any of the information?”

“Not directly, more about… how you believe it relates to me,” Feyre stated, slightly worried about what his answer might be.

“Personally, I believe that when you were brought back you were Made with an adult sized magical core, and it is simply taking its time to expand into your bloodstream. Now, are you absolutely sure that you’ve had no instances of magic expressions?” Rhys asked, staring into Feyre’s eyes.

Feyre thought hard on it, and realized that soon after coming back to Spring a year ago, a dress had caught fire in her room. Ianthe had been insisting that Feyre wear it, but the pattern was horrid and the fabric and cut was far too uncomfortable for Feyre to willingly wear.

It had burst into flames when Ianthe went to take it off the hanger, and they had all simply assumed that it had caught fire from the lit candle nearby.

Now, though…

“I might have accidentally set a dress on fire a year ago.”

“Well, then, you might have a compressed growth period, with only one expression before your core began to slowly expand. If that is the case, Feyre, you are most likely near your first expansion.”

“So… what would that mean, exactly?” Feyre couldn’t quite wrap her head around it yet.

“I expect that within the next three months or so your core will push into your bloodstream and carve new channels for your power to expand into. Think of it as though you are going through the first ten years of your life in a little over a year, magical growth wise. You magic is attempting to make up for being largely undeveloped in an adult body by accelerating the process, most likely expanding as quickly as your body is able to handle.”

Feyre slowly nodded her head, thinking she understood the likely situation now.

“I do have one more question- about the expansions? How much do they hurt?” She asked quietly.

“The first expansion was definitely the most painful for me, at least, my core had nearly doubled in size by the end of it. But as you grow older, they become less intense, for the most part.”

“Ah… something to look forward to, I suppose,” Feyre joked sarcastically. “How long do they usually take?”

“It can take anywhere from a few hours to a day or two.”

“Constant pain?”

“Near the end it tapers off into a dull ache or itch that you can’t satisfy, but before that, yes.”

Feyre sighed. “And you think mine will be worse?”

Rhysand nodded. “You most likely have a large magical core already, and as your first expansion it will be creating the largest amount of new pathways throughout your body, it will most likely last a day or more, you may even need to be kept sedated for your safety. I am sorry, Feyre.”

“How wonderful,” Feyre replied drily before shaking her head, attempting to clear her anxieties about her possibly expanding magic.

“Well, enough of this downer talk, Feyre darling, let us begin to build your mental shields, if you’re still willing?”

Feyre bobbed her head, mentally preparing herself for what’s to come. While he had promised to be gentle, she was sure there was only so gentle someone could be while in someone’s mind.

“Start by picturing something very solid surrounding your mind.”

“Seriously?” Feyre asked.

“Yes, Feyre, I am serious. You will need something sturdy that can encompass all of who you are, without any cracks or places weak enough that someone with ill intent can slip inside. The fundamentals to shielding your mind are, quite literally, creating a shield around your mind,” Rhysand explained. “It may sound silly to do at first, but it is incredibly important to have a solid foundation.”

Feyre narrowed her eyes slightly at him before closing them, accepting that she would have to do this, no matter how silly it felt to picture a large stone wall around her mind, similar to those surrounding the manors she had seen in the human lands.

It was thick, sturdy, made of large chunks of stone cemented together, rising over ten feet high.

“Alright Feyre, I’m going to test your defenses now, if you’re ready.” Feyre nodded, her eyes still shut as she focused on keeping that wall built in her mind.

Slowly, inky tendrils of night caressed the wall, searching for any weaknesses.

It took maybe four seconds for it to begin spilling through a crack in the wall where the stones met, and as it did a haze slipped over Feyre’s thoughts, the wall crumbling to dust.

The night pulled back as soon as it did, and Feyre came back into the room, Rhysand still seated across from her. A slight sheen of sweat had formed on her skin, even from such a small attempt to protect herself.

“That was an amazing first shield, Feyre,” he said warmly, causing Feyre’s cheeks to heat yet again. “What did you notice?”

Feyre’s brow furrowed as she thought about it. “The mist- you- slipped through a small crack in the wall, one that I didn’t even know was there.”

“Precisely. A Daemati will know where the common weak points generally appear, it’s normally in the areas that we don’t think twice about being secure, especially when using fae or human made structures.” Rhysand paused, looking Feyre over. “As we go through this, Feyre, remember that this is a learning process, one with a very sharp curve for learning how to control magic and shielding concurrently.”

“Rhys, I will be fine,” Feyre insisted. “I taught myself to shoot a bow and arrow as a child. I can handle having a few stumbles with learning this, I promise you.”

���Very well, Feyre. If you’re ready, we can try again.”

“Yes, please,” Feyre said, beginning to form a smooth, solid wall made of one continuous piece of stone. None of it appeared to have any cracks or crevices in it, but she supposed only time would tell.

“Nod when you’re ready for me, alright?”

Feyre nodded a moment later, and the dark wisps of power began creeping along the wall of her mind once more. It searched for something to grip onto, rip into but found nothing, only pushing further and further up the wall.

It was then that Feyre realized her mistake.

She quickly began attempting to create a roof over the wall, something to keep Rhysand’s power out, but it moved to quickly and slinked over, that same hazy feeling coming over her mind before retreating just as fast as it came.

“Wonderful Feyre, you figured out my next lesson before I’d even gotten into your mind. The wall must encase all of your mind, otherwise I can simply pass over the wall and easily access your mind.”

“Hmm…” Feyre hummed. “Does it need to be a wall, or can it be something else surrounding it?”

Rhysand smiled at her proudly. “It can be whatever you want it to be, Feyre. No two mental barriers are exactly alike, they reflect the person they protect.”

Feyre knew what her wall would take shape as, then. Something that could cover her entirely, but she would not be lost in.

“I’m ready for you to try again, please.”

Rhysand sunk into the space around her mind, suddenly floating on a body of water that had no end in sight, tumultuous waves crashing against his power. “Clever, Feyre darling. Very clever,” he purred into her mind, and the waves stilled for a moment before picking up in intensity once more. “Where are you hiding?” The mist floated along the surface of the water, taking a moment before diving down. It sank deeper and deeper before finally landing in front of its prize.

“There you are, darling.”

The mist stroked along the dome along the sea floor, sensing Feyre’s presence underneath. It’s touch was gentle, reminiscent of a lover’s caress. A moment later, he pulled away, retreating entirely from her mind.

Feyre’s body felt heavy, tired from the exertion of keeping up a mental shield.

“You have done astoundingly well, Feyre, for only your first day shielding!” Rhysand said, looking genuinely impressed with her progress.

“Thank you, Rhys,” Feyre said bashfully. “But why didn’t you try to break in?”

“Well, I’d prefer to take your training slowly to build up your strength before we attempt any true attacks, that way we avoid any unnecessary pain.”

“Oh. When do you think I’ll be ready for that?”

Rhysand smiled at Feyre, before explaining “It will be entirely up to you, Feyre. Except for this week, of course. But for now, I’d like to move on to your magic itself. Have you tried reaching for it yet?”

Feyre bobbed her head. “I have, but I haven’t been able to feel anything. My chest just feels… cold. What is it supposed to feel like?”

“For me, it feels like a warm, comforting spark inside of my chest, right between my lungs. Just try focusing on that space as much as you can, tune everything else out.”

“Including your voice?”

Rhysand chuckled, responding, “Yes, Feyre. Even my voice.”

Feyre did as he said, narrowing her focus to the space between her lungs. After a minute, she could swear she felt a gently pulse, cold feeling in her chest. No warmth, but at least it was there, wiggling slowly with each breath.

“Wow,” she breathed. “That’s… that’s amazing. It’s like there’s something living in my chest.”

A soft chuckle escaped Rhysand’s lips, staring at Feyre intensely. “It can feel that way, especially when beginning training. As you progress, it should start to feel more like an extension of you, a piece of you so intertwined with your body that you won’t be able to imagine life without it anymore.”

“That sounds wonderful.” She placed her hand on her chest above where her core resides. “When will I be able to access it? My magic, that is?”

“If you feel up to it… You could try right now,” Rhys said, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watched her. “Try summoning one of the High Lord’s powers- wind, fire, water, ice, light, and darkness, any of them would be suitable. Pick the one that calls most to you, in this moment,” he instructed.

Feyre nodded, picking through the options he listed. Fire, she had called on before. Maybe it would be the easiest?

She imagined a spark coming to life above her fingers, holding her palm out flat.

Nothing happened, and Feyre furrowed her brow.

She concentrated harder, trying to create any extra warmth in her fingers- but nothing.

“Feyre, try another element.” Feyre narrowed her eyes at him, continuing to try and bring fire to her skin.

Nothing.

Feyre sighed in frustration, feeling more tired than before, and she’d only been attempting for a few minutes. “Nothing is happening.”

“I told you, it won’t be easy, Feyre. It takes time, just be patient with it.”

Feyre settled back in her chair with a pout on her face. She tried summoning a bit of light, this time.

Still. Nothing.

She cycled through the powers, attempting each of them for at least five minutes before moving on. She was getting tired, her body slumping further and further in the chair.

“Alright, Feyre. I’m calling practice for today. Come on,” He said, extending a hand after standing in front of her. She took it, grateful to have help getting to her feet.

They exited the room, walking at a leisurely pace towards her room in silence.

“Feyre, you did amazingly well today, better than most would with learning to shield, and on top of that, learning to access you magic is incredibly difficult,” Rhysand praised once they arrived at her doorway, color once again gracing high on her cheeks. “It also takes a large amount of energy, which is why you’re feeling so tired right now. I’ll have Cerridwen bring you lunch in a half an hour, alright?”

Feyre could only nod her head at him, so exhausted and ready for a bath that she just slipped into her room, beelining her way to the bathroom.

She pulled off the matching set of clothing, damp with sweat, tossing it into the laundry bin. Feyre tied her hair up into a bun again, sinking into the water quickly, a contented sigh leaving her lips.

Feyre’s eyes closed. They were so heavy now, it was hardly worth it to keep them open.

She pictured herself floating on that dark, tumultuous water. Pictured it calming, her body resting at peace on top of the water.

She floated off into the distance, sleep claiming her body.

Series Taglist: @icey--stars

[meli-writes]

Little Miss Laser - Ch. 01

/// CW: attempted kidnapping within superhero kayfabe, kink and sexual references, mentions of transphobia and sanism. ///

Milly tried really hard to hold herself still. Her small-fry villain persona — Before you laugh, I'm still workshopping it, okay — calling for hand-me-down biker leathers that squeaked like hell, not helped by her then lacing it with ten different types of anti-super materials.

And there she was, slipping through Milly’s overly-obvious busted wall, right into her trap.

Oh— God. Is it okay to use that word? Because she’s— Oh fuck, her thighs have totally gotten bigger again.

Milly tried pushing her thoughts to the side, the ones about how the padded-rubber super-uniform hugged her heroic guest’s ass, about how she could probably justify petting those fluffy, brown curls later as an act of reassuring her soon-to-be hostage.

That wouldn’t be too much, right? Villainously-creepy but not actually-creepy.

She trod, unawares, onto a tiny fleck of electrical tape — that was far enough. Milly grabbed her helmet, flicked cropped-and-bleached hair over her head, and hastily clasped its front and back halves to her face, magnet-locking together with a click.

She pulled herself together, then around the corner, and then let Biker Hood step out.

“Love to see the punctuality, Little Miss Laser. You always are such a good girl for me.” Milly got the briefest glimpse of a blush before— Dvooom.

Searing, white light brushed over the helmet, and while she blinked instinctively, a few layers of UV-filtering had entirely dissipated the damage. Biker Hood held her posture while Milly was secretly screaming success in her head, it had worked.

It hadn’t been that hard to figure out — it was silly no one had seemed to try it before. It was nearly all of what Laser ever did, quietly dishing out photokeratitis — read: absolutely ruining your eyesight for weeks — from the rear while her teammates handled the real work.

That is if you even registered as bad enough to warrant multiple Little Misses, or just any other than Laser. Which was definitely never gonna be Biker Hood, but Milly was gonna change that all today.

Occasionally Laser would spit out enough energy to bust a lock or cut a teammate’s bonds, but that always exhausted her. Wiped her out, really. Her shoulders slouching down in this sweet little show of weakness. Fearful eyes checking if someone will spot it and catch you out Doll, fuck.

Step One of the Becoming-A-Major-League-Villain Plan just meant baiting out those blasts, wearing her down for Step Two. To that end, Biker Hood made a merry, mocking show of reeling her head back, “Ow, I think that almost hurt. Not in the mood today, Doll?”

She totally hated Doll — but wasn’t showing it. Just her cloying disapproval of Biker Hood’s as-of-yet undetermined nefariousness. “Where’s the factory workers, Hood. If you’ve done anything to them—”

Milly laughed. She really think I could be that dangerous? Wrong, but cool.

“Look around you, Little Miss. Dumb doll like you wasn’t even born when this place got shut down.” She tried to casually slip a hand into her jacket, fingers grasping for the matte plastic controller she’d stashed in there.

Dvooom. Left. Dvooom. Right. Dvooom. Left. Step One, in-progress.

The opening volley was predictable, Hood catching heat on her left shoulder. She could maybe have played into the ‘missing workers’ thing, if Laser really was that gullible, but it introduced a bunch of risks Milly hadn’t planned for. The goal was to annoy, not escalate.

The Little Miss was beginning to wear herself down. Getting a touch desperate for me, Doll? Biker Hood pulled her hand out, and flicked up the lid on an otherwise unassuming bit of kit. Laser’s eyes flashed, she knew what it was. And it was too late.

“Today it’s just you—” Click. “—and me.” Boom.

Laser dove forward — that’s right, get to the second mark, three seconds — bricks clattering behind her, blocking the only way out. Two seconds. Milly still made sure she’d be clear at the first mark, plan didn’t call for dropping building on her. One second. Just her Step Two.

Dvoom. Dvoom. Dvoom. Dvoom. Thonk.

Rainbows erupted out of Laser’s paws in a panic — fruitlessly trying to forestall the metallic crash of Biker Hood’s Doll-Suppressant Metal-Net Drop-Trap, pinning her to the ground. Even woven to a flexible mesh, it was damned heavy. But that wasn’t the point.

“What do you think, Doll? Took three weeks of stripping this building bare of old wires to make that. Copper, your totally-not-secret weakness.” The Little Miss’s gorgeous little wriggles gave out suddenly at that. Obviously because she knows it’s not worth trying.

Honestly, Milly had no idea how Laser even qualified for the Little Misses. The others were, as far as she was concerned, monsters. Inferno could melt through the depleted uranium of tank armour, Tremor had collapsed a villain’s lair on them before, Cyclone had literally cancelled out a tropical storm. Glacier — well actually, Glacier seemed chill.

Not a weakness between them — unless you counted Laser’s own or cruelly counted her as the weakness. They never cared about anyone like Biker Hood, who spent her time robbing betting parlours and dodging balls of mutant spit from guys in frog outfits.

She was so far beneath the pay-grade of a Little Miss she may as well be living in a pre-monetary society. Except Laser, putting herself in harm’s way, in Biker Hood’s way. Out to prove something by mopping up the city’s most loser villains. But, always failing on her.

Good, that was Milly’s in. No-one would be expecting it, someone like her capturing the cutest, sweetest, gentlest Little Miss. Putting her on camera in oversized copper chains, maybe break the innocent thing with a kiss. Just on the cheek, obviously, nothing more.

Just enough threat to force a massive sum be sent to Milly’s untraceable Panamanian bank account — The hedge-fund assholes all have one, or nine, why can’t I? — and to get her noticed as a proper, major-leagues villain.

Milly was in her own head about it, but Biker Hood had to crash the party for Step Three. Surrender. Laser had moved on from blasting wildly wherever her hands could wiggle to, and was now fumbling at her bracelet, squeaking out a cry for help.

Biker Hood moved to stand over her, chuckling to herself.

“Fern? Glass? It’s Laz. Please I—” It was sweet, scared birdsong.

She pressed her boot against it, giving Laser an earful of the sickening leather squish.

“I told you it was just us. Figured out the frequency a while ago, when you left one of your little bangles behind.” By left she meant desperately clawing on to Laser’s wrist when she tried to run, getting flashed, and being left there half-blind, communicator in hand.

Hood crouched down, tilting her head back for a maximally-dismissive downward glare. She lifted the net over Laser’s head, grasping her chin and pulling her close.

There was a new sort of fear in her eyes, a much more serious one. It worried Milly, Laser was finally getting that today would be different, but she had to make sure not to escalate.

“You’re going to listen to me very closely. That’s what gets you out of this safe, Doll.”

Laser’s eyes clicked with a sudden fury. Milly should have practised this step more.

DWAAAM.

---

She reeled back for real this time, bashing her head against a steel pillar and sending the helmet sprawling in pieces. And when her vision had stopped spinning she realised Laser had just melted through half the damn faceplate.

If she’d held on for just another moment my head would be—

Milly looked up, lingering plasticated fumes sending tears streaking through her eyeshadow. But there was a bigger problem than one near-miss. Laser had pulled herself up, glowing hands just sloughing the net off of her. Staring like a doll that didn’t want to be played with anymore. And Milly was now guessing that one blast wasn’t just a last-chancing trick.

Dvooom. Dvooom. Dvooom.

She rushed behind the pillar, grabbing the copper-plated baseball bat from Step Oh Fuck and tried to squeeze all her terror into it. Biker Hood wasn’t gonna cut it here.

She rounded back, bounded several paces, and— DVAM.

She was lucky she’d led with the bat. Unblinking her eyes, Milly quickly dropped the thing as it slagged off into two big pieces, dripping out a hundred smaller ones from melting metal wounds. Too close, again. But the same was true for Laser, who hadn’t been backing up.

Sorry, Doll. Thwack.

---

She decked the fuck out of her. Relieved the heat-proof bitch wasn’t also fist-proof, cringing though as she rapidly began to tumble and— Oh shit, she’s gonna fall on concrete.

Milly swerved her arms out, catching her but getting pulled down along with. Damn Doll, how much does your fucking ass weigh. But there wasn’t a moment to recalibrate to what the fuck Laser had just tried — straight to Step Four.

Pivoting her over she quickly shoved Laser’s hands into a linked pair of giant cylinders. Anti-Super Cuffs. It should shut her down regardless, but the internals were electroplated just to be sure. Which Milly maybe wasn’t quite so sure about anymore.

She flipped Laser back over, head lolling to and fro. Was this the cuffs? She hadn’t actually hit her that hard, right? Fuck, wake the hell up, please. Being unconscious — even for a few minutes — was bad news. Doll was supposed to be an affectation, not an aphorism.

“Hey— Laser?” Finally, a little squeak came out, Milly clutching the Little Miss into her arms.

Quickly she packed herself away, trying to front what was left of Hood. Whatever step she was on, it was time to seal the deal. “Ha! That net may have been impure, but you have no chance against my Pure Copper Super Bindings.”

“Oh god, Hood, I can’t—” She was squirming at the cuffs. God, please be working.

“There, safe in my grasp at last.” A little of Milly came out trying to emphasise that point, maybe some of the wrong part. “No hiding just how pathetic you really are.”

“I know, I know,” the Little Miss muttered. Milly had Laser’s gaze, other senses locking on as they flickered back to life, binding to her. “Worthless, useless without the team. Just trash they’re being forced to hold on to.”

Ugh, okay? Talk about turnaround, Doll. Maybe she was spoiling her too strongly — Milly wanted her to surrender, not have a breakdown.

“Woah, hey now. You are not worthless.”

“But— But you just said I was—” Pathetic. There were tears now, streaming from twinkling grey eyes, spilling over her mask. Breakdown it was, shit.

“I know, which you are. But that’s like— hot?” She tried looking away but Laser’s eyes were burrowing into her, hurting more than any blasts ever did. “You put on this face, and try to beat me, but never can and—”

Milly shoved Laser out of her arms and onto the floor.

“Fuck. No. Just go. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Wha— wha—” Laser trembled in surprise, twisting around to face her. “Do what anymore?”

“Well, the plan— plan was to capture you with the drop, tie you up, drag you somewhere safe for ransom. And then start breaking you mentally and stuff. But, like, slowly?”

Laser didn’t say a thing, just staring as Milly’s face buckled like a sinking ship. She was gonna make Milly finish — forcing her with those perfect, sobbing eyes.

“Okay, look. It’s a stupid idea, was a stupid idea. Fuck, what was I thinking.”

More agonised moments dragged by, like peeling sunburnt skin — compliments of the Little Miss — off her back. But, just as she was ready to dig deeper, Laser did it for her.

“You wanted to do it— slowly?” There were less tears now.

“Ugh, yeah.” Why the fuck are you following this line of questioning. “Like, pay attention to your needs and limits and stuff. I mean, obviously, kidnapping pushes some boundaries, but I’d make sure I wasn’t hurting you too bad. Threatening and—” Shut up. “—sexy, but like—” Oh my god, please shut up. “—not violating?” Milly you’re so dumb.

“Oh. Oh I—” Laser was blushing again. At the sweetness, right? Not the— Maybe she didn’t hate her.

“Look, Miss Laser—” Getting up to walk over to the wall.

“—it was a monstrous idea, okay. Realising that a lot in hindsight. But I’m way off it now.” Thumbing buttons on electrical gear hoisted there. “No more jammer, so like, call or go for help before your friends figure something's up and I gotta hold you hostage.”

“Yeah— Of course— Sorry.”

Why was she apologising for this—

DWAAM.

“Wait, WHAT. Could you—” The binders clattered to the floor, one of them sprawling down a loading ramp with an aching screech. Another thing cut through like it was nothing.

“Oh, kinda yeah? But like, you were in my head and stuff. So I forgot.” She said it like she’d forgotten to buy more sugar, not—

“Shouldn’t that have exhausted you by now. And your weakness!?”

Laser sighed, annoyed but sympathetic to her oafish, would-be kidnapper. “Copper? Come on, Hood, that’s super fake. What other Little Miss even has a weakness.”

Milly was searching for a comeback, and not finding one. “So, could you just do this the whole time? Not just today, but like—” she flailed her hands around wildly.

Guilty and puppied-up eyes answered her. “Yeah.”

“Was I ever actually in control there or— No, how come people don’t realise this?”

“They do.” It was utterly matter-of-fact, she’d answered this before. “Try searching ‘little miss laser truth’ or ‘little miss laser fake’.”

Milly pulled out her phone, rushing to key in the code before Laser could see the wallpaper. After a few more moments she had a video playing.

What’s up WHITE STATUE NATION. It’s your king AristotleOfAthens6572 here, a hard man out to save the West from—

“Skip, like, 60 seconds. It's always this kind of shit.” Laser knew exactly what was coming.

Today I’m uncovering for you the secret horror the woke media won’t tell you about Little Miss Laser, or should I say LITTLE DICK LASER. You see HE isn’t—

Milly paused. “Think I get it.”

“Yep. That er— preoccupation keeps them busy. Puts off anyone more serious.”

Laser grabbed one of Hood’s helmet fragments, effortlessly carving something in with the tip of her finger. “Hey um— sorry I got a little heated earlier. We could chat more about this another time? And like, if you still wanna break me outside of this then maybe—”

“Send me a message sometime?”

Okay, Milly got it now. Neither of them was in control. This girl was— Oh, she was out of her mind. She reached out to take the fragment, there was a phone number lasered into the surface, dimly visible black-on-black.

Summoning a foolish moment of confidence. “And here I thought my kidnapping idea was fun because you were Little Miss Innocent.” Laser looked a little brusqued up by that one.

“Still am— and will be.” Milly got the threat, Laser’s glowing hands were a useful clue, and she remembered her dangerous panicking earlier.

The glow faded.

“But like— outlets are good. I deal with— a lot of stress. That’s why I’ve always liked you.”

Hold on. She likes me?!

Before Milly could bluster an objection she was gone. A clean, round hole left in the steel shutters. There was evidence to clear up, and valuable gear to bug-out with, but first— Milly was saving that number, muttering to herself what the fuck is going on.

---

Milly sat down at the breakfast bar — vest strap fallen off her shoulder, stubby ponytail missing half her hair — and nursed her third increasingly-caffeinated attempt to re-energise after the last six hours.

Was that their sixth meet-up, or the seventh? It was bleeding into fights too, that wasn’t helping. Laser had asked within five minutes every single time, though at least waited for Milly to start messaging first. She really wasn’t sure it was a good idea to say no now.

So Laser had turned up, looking at Milly messily stuffing week-old vegan pizza down her gob, and utterly unfazed by the butched-up mess had slipped off her trench coat to reveal a sexy, halloween knock-off of her own uniform.

It gets logged when I take the real thing out, and then I’d have to, like, file a report. Giggling at her own mischief while Milly gawked in horror at the suggestion on how to use it.

Laser did not stay over. She napped, and Milly never dared wake her up, but always dodged before it got too late. It’d be a report to file. Good thing, because Bri would have killed her.

Bri who was sitting across from her right now, a thorough contrast in appearances. Two-piece suit with hedge-fund-asshole tailoring and locs painstakingly straightened into what every HR department would call ‘workplace appropriate’ while insisting they took DEI very seriously.

She was ready for today’s job, and Milly was not.

“Milicent, you’ve been delaying this job for weeks. If it doesn’t happen today, it doesn’t happen at all!” She’d avoided telling Bri the reason for a while, failing to notice how the insatiable Little Miss had devoured her runway. “You have to explain what’s up with you.”

“I’m uh- I’m kinda seeing this girl?” Understatement of the fucking millennium, Milly.

Bri was too sharp for this. “Okay, that’s nice, but that shouldn’t knock you out like this.”

She was not going to get it. She was going to kill her. Bri was a lightweight, admittedly one of the best criminals in the city, but as far as superheroes were concerned — superheroes like the Little Misses — she wasn’t their problem. She was boring, competent, white-collar about it. And she tolerated Biker Hood so long as it kept Milly focused and useful.

She did not get the supervillain thing. It was profoundly anti-thetical to her goal of make money and bug the fuck out to Australia or Austria or wherever’s nice and far away.

“So you know that Little Miss I encounter a lot — Laser?”

Milly cringed, she could audibly hear dots snapping into alignment in an instant, that and the thundering of Bri’s eyes rolling into the back of her skull and then out onto the floor.

“I may have been working on a plan to kidnap her, and it sort of turned into— an arrangement?”

---

The first time they met in an alley, Laser pretending to be lost while Milly was there to predate on her. Strappy dress showing off her shoulders, Laser pinching her fingers together, awkwardly trying to pull-in and hide the breadth of them. Mostly, it served to push her trembling tits together, made Milly want to eat them.

“Go on then— fucking do it you bitch.” That's right, give me that last bit of will, Doll.

Milly had grabbed her by the throat, pushed her against the wall. Laser being tougher than a baseline person gave her plenty of room to be mean.

“Oh— God— Okay— Wait!” Sputtering out panicked begs, none of them safewords. Phew.

“What is it, Doll? Can’t take it already?”

“Look, maybe we could— talk about this? Maybe I just open my mouth too much.”

That was bait. Milly could look in her eyes and see just how badly she wanted it. Milly just had to find the right reply, it’s not like she had a script. She would a few times later.

“You do, don’t you? Don’t worry — I know how to make very good use of that.”

Afterwards, Milly was definitely the one who felt used. Staring vacantly at a motel wall-clock for three hours with only Laser’s contented little sleep-squeaks breaking the silence.

At one point, her arm unconsciously slipped on to Milly’s face, and it took all Milly's will not to scream out in startled shock. Just quietly muttering to herself — What the fuck is going on. What is wrong with this girl. Oh god I have to keep her happy.

When Laser woke up she had cheerfully got herself dressed, thanked Milly for the time, barely noticing she was only capable of smiling brokenly and muttering “Yep, sure!”, left some money for the room, and then just fucking left like it was the end of a coffee date.

---

“What— Do— You— Mean— You— Tried— Kidnapping— A Little Miss— And now she’s fucking you?!”

Milly was about three feet deep now, matching the inch-length of heels Bri was more than metaphorically stabbing through her ribcage while she paced around, dodging Milly's phone lost on the floor, wildly gesticulating face and hands in increasing disbelief. “I thought you were a top too!”

“I am! And she is fucking me. Absolute freak, okay, Little Miss Psycho.” That one felt cruel, cruel in a real way, not in a scene way. But justifying a fuck-up to Bri took work, and she could silently apologise to Laser about it later.

“She’s a Little Miss — why would you ever not think that!”

Oh, I’ve been thinking about it plenty.

Tits pressing against me when she sleeps. Outfit downplays the fuck out of them. They were way bigger than I thought was possible. That’s not transphobic is it? I don’t wanna be—

"Because she was the quiet one! Demure, ran support or handled low-leagues like me, only did press when she wanted to shout-out no-kill shelters in need of kitten fosterers.”

Bri stopped and stared at her for that, clearly signalling that was an oddly-specific flavour of defensiveness and it was a bad look. “You never pick on the quiet ones.”

“Yeah. And it turns out she’s functionally the most powerful Little Miss with maybe no actual limit on her abilities, and her weakness is fake—”

“Milly, anyone could have told you that was fake. Did you try—” Bri clicked herself on to pause, nearly bringing her hands together as if to pray for rescue from this clown-show-slash-nightmare, trying to refocus on the actual, foundational way Milly had fucked herself.

“And now you know that Milly! And now I god damn know that.”

“I think her real name is even—”

“Stop.”

She’d not given Milly a burner but instead her actual, personal number. Meaning she was either too naive to know how dangerous that was, or she knew and didn’t care because it wasn’t dangerous to her. Bri was definitely mouthing both in her head right now.

“Look, I know. I fucked up okay.”

Bri came back to sit at the bar, visibly evaluating the cold leftovers as an analogy for Milly.

She wasn’t satisfied — not even slightly — but she was in her fixing mode. At least still caring enough to try get her out of this, if Milly bothered to listen. “Okay, what the hell are you planning then? You have to get away from her.”

“Ugh, I know. But she is cute.”

“Milly!” Oh my god, you’re not listening to me are you? Bri thought. She would advise, but after this she was getting a new partner. Supervillain technical expertise or no.

“And she’s so into being my kind of freak, you know. This girl is into everything. Peril was just the start. Since then she’s asked for hypno, somno, and like every kind of pet play.”

Of course Milly knows what all of these are called, Bri now peeking at the half-assembled, homemade shock collar that pooled their car keys with a different eye.

“And like, she cries during scenes and if I stop to check-in she just smiles at me and says Yep. All good. Please continue! Bri, it’s so hot.”

“Milly, she’s gonna kill you in like a month, tops. And me too if you tell me anything else.”

“Nooo— Alright, fine, I’ll stop seeing her. Need a new phone though. And hideout.”

“YOU BROUGHT HER HERE.”

---

Milly was squatting in another abandoned factory, secretly tapping into the utilities of the hedge-fund-occupied redevelopment next door. Bri and her had plastered up a corner like it were a live-audience TV set, perfect for the sitcom present-Milly was experiencing, setting up enough scavenged and flat-pack furniture that it felt cosy. And private.

“No. No. No. We cannot recreate my attempt to kidnap you.” She was trying to keep a playful tone, but this felt absurd even for this girl. Standing there, thighs fully bared, cleavage added to the costume thanks to incredible artistic license from the underpaid designer. Bulge.

Not-a-chaser. I-can-find-it-hot-normally. If I’m only into girls and into this then it’s cos it’s hot as a girl thing. Dont-fuck-this-up-Milly. She will laser you.

“The fight scenes were cool, but— Fuck. I’m trying to move on from that Laz, cos you know if I’d really done it it’d be unforgivable.” Laser could clearly see how it was still worrying her.

Looking back over the couch, curls flopping with her, she tried to reassure in a way that still wasn’t letting up at the idea. “I think it’s okay— Hood, I woulda been alright.”

“You’re only saying this because you’re secretly Little Miss Lusting-For-Biker-Mommy.”

Laser just giggled. Yep. All good. Please continue! She was a mathematically-absolute masochist and had completely refused to accept any of Milly’s self-condemnations about it.

Please just let me feel like an asshole about this. Crashing her head into the channel-back.

“Yeah, but also because the moment I didn’t like it I could have just bisected you like a lunchbox sandwich. Make sure it’s not too hot, so like, your guts spill all over the floor—”

Milly had peeled her head up slowly, staring at her from only a few inches away.

What the hell is even wrong with you.

“See, I’m tough.”

Laser’s little smiles could feel a lot more sinister now. Milly tried convincing herself it was just Laser trying to prove a point. “I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m not really that cute, I just pretend about this stuff so people take it easy on me.”

Her eyes darted away a little, needing the visual space to dump what came next.

“Cos then, for the most part, I don’t get all the comments about resting-bitch-face, video essays about using my powers wrong, or like the death-slash-rape threats that Trem and Cyk are always getting.” God, even Milly could sympathise with a Little Miss for that.

Laser was starting to pull away, but before she could Milly nipped a kiss on her forehead, eliciting a delicious squeak that kept her in her place.

“I still think you’re cute.” And what the hell is wrong with me.

Laser liked that, didn’t want to agree with it, but liked it. “I know, but— freak.”

Milly nodded her forehead against Laser’s — totally trapped now, peering up nervously as Milly tried to reassure her in turn. “You can be weird and still cute. I prefer it.”

“Yeah but like—”

Struggling to find the words. Or struggling to contain too many of them.

“I know it keeps me safe but— I think I just wish people saw me being sweet and innocent as part of my strength, not something that spites it.”

She peered back into Milly’s eyes, crying for rarely unhorny reasons. “There’s no right way to be when you’re me. And like, everything that means and stuff.”

Milly thought she got it, but didn’t want to say that in case she was wrong and fucked it up. No, instead, she vaulted herself over the couch, errant boot accidentally trampling one of Laser’s feet, an elbow sent sprawling into her face.

“Ow, ha ha. Stop!”

Big, lesbian biker oaf was a role Milly could play, unintentionally or not, to perfection. Laser liked it a lot. “You know Doll, I think the world is really lucky you haven’t heel-turned. You would make an unstoppable villain.”

“I know,” she said, dishing out an actually trademarked grin. “Maybe you should try corrupting me into one?”

Milly glanced at her phone, before tossing it loosely on to the carpet.

“Six hours till my co-worker’s here. Let’s see what progress I can make, beloved captive.”

(Masterpost) / (Next)

originally written on cohost 16/11/2023, in response to Making-Up-Magical-Girls' prompt:

Magical Girl Who Has The Villain Right Where She Wants Them

and Making-Up-A-Villain's add-on prompt:

Villain who is in danger… of having a very good bad time

[shiggyscumrag]

WHOLESOME THOUGHTS WITH SHIGGY!

I've been looking back at my old fics and headcanons and mu god has my writing style and interests changed. So I've decided to make an updated HORNY THOUGHTS WITH SHIGGY!!!! Tbh most of them are gonna be wholesome <3 Bakugou has been on my mind A LOT lately so we're gonna start with him!!

Wholesome headcanons

I feel like sometimes when he gets home from patrol he is either a cuddle bug or doesn't want to be touched at all. Being a pro hero puts a lot of strain on the body! So when he comes home more emotionally exhausted sometimes he likes being cuddled and being taken care of. However when he comes home from a patrol that was particularly cruel on his muscles he prefers to just kinda lay there and not be touched.

I love two ideas. Bakugou either not being to handle his liquor at all OR being able to take shot after shot and not feel a thing but hate the taste and doesn't like to drink very often because of it. Like he'll go party with you and friends but he usually won't drink unless it's a special occasion. For the light weight version he would take shot for shot with you on a holiday (New years, Birthday, etc) and after the second shot he's fuckinf gone. Like he's there but snaps back into reality every 5 secs but he just looks so cute with the blush from the heat of the alcohol under his skin. Or on the heavy weight side he would also take shot for shot with you only getting tipsy as you reach your limit. Let's say around 5 shots for fun. He says to you "I'm glad you're done cause that tastes like shit." He just hates the alcohol taste.

I'm not a huge fan of baths. Like I hate them. So in this headcanon Bakugou would instead take showers with you rather than baths. Or if you wanted company while taking a shower but he didn't want to go in he would just sit on the counter and talk to you, read a book or scroll through his phone possibly looking for new recipes. And I course you would do the same thing for him!!

If you were an artist of any sort (I'm an art major give me a break) he would absolutely adore the home made gifts you'd make him. When you guys eventually move into your first place together he would hang up the gifts you gave him in his office or around the living areas. When guests came over and complimented the piece he would always subtly brag that you painted it and he can only have the best art pieces in his home because he has the best artist in the world living with him and making him custom peices. Also if he ever did a charity event and needed like a design or logo he would come to you either asking advice or commission you to do it. Fuck asking for it for free, even though you'd tell him you'd do it free of charge since you're dating and it's charity. But he INSISTS on paying you because you deserve it for all the hard work, love and care you put into it.

He would give you the aux in the car everytime. He knows you usually ask everytime if he has any requests and just queues them in between songs you like so it works out fine for him. You're happy he's happy, nothing to complain about.

However you met (preferably outside of UA) he would find it pretty important that early on in the relationship that he introduces you to his friends (kiri, mina, denki, and sero) just so he can see how you would fair around them. I mean he's around them 24/7 practically so it's important you get along. They are like family to him so it's also important they approve of you, even though he says he doesn't give a shit about their approval.

He secretly loves when you feel up his muscles. It just makes him feel good. He also likes when you rub his back with your nails. It just feels so nice, especially after a day of training and or patrol. It's the perfect relaxer. I feel he would also like it if you rubbed his temples gently when he laid his head in your lap. It could honeslty soothe him right to sleep.

Not so wholesome headcanons (18+ MDNI)

Biting? Check. Choking? Check. An occasional creampie? ...Check. Sorry just had to check off some of the kinks I think Bakugou would indulge in and fantasize about.

Bakugou is a pretty aggressive guy. Some might even say he's a bit mean sometimes. Cruel even. Never to you though. He can get very possessive though. The way he questions when anyone other than his friends and family talk about you. The arm around you at all times in public. The marks that litter your skin underneath your clothing. Oh yeah, he likes to mark you. He swears it's all for your pleasure, I mean you do love the occasional hickey and the way it feels when he bites and sucks on your skin. But it is a bit much when they cover almost all of the entirety of your body. Of course only the parts he can see and possibly sometimes a few on your neck when he's really worked up.

If he decided to do a little quicky in a semi public place he would most definetely let you bite down on his shoulder. Which I feel would be a rarity just cause he'd rather not deal with the possible repercussions of getting caught. He doesnt mind the pain. Like at all. Actually it helps him get off a little bit. It gives him just the right amount of pain and pleasure to get him going absolutely feral.

Some of his fav positions include: normal cowgirl aka riding him into oblivion, reverse cowgirl aka riding him into oblivion just with more ass, doggy, missionary, mating press, you riding his face. The list could go on.

[badassbutterfly1987]

For fanfic friday: I know you've been low-key thinking for a while about chronic health fallout in a Vor lives au. Take this as your invite to toss headcanons, if you're inclined!

Holland manages to remove the metal shards and heal the damage just barely in time. The would be assassins are dealt with and Vortalis lives. The healing isn't perfect, there's going to be internal scarring and obviously he needs a recovery period. Everything is going to be fine.

Vortalis is confined to bed for at least a week because Holland insists he rest and recover. Besides, they can't risk the king looking weak. The only ones allowed to see him are those they completely trust (i. e. him, Leta, and Lane).

In the meantime, Holland rules in his place and everyone's wary about it at first, including Holland who really just wants to stay by his partner's bedside (god what if Vor dies because he is busy sitting on a fancy chair?). New guards have to be brought in to replace the fallen ones and the survivors have to mourn; Holland has to now be on speaking terms with guards and servants he couldn't previously remember the names of. Any weak points in the castle have to be shoored up. People still want to see the king to ask for favors. They consider whether or not to reach out to the other London. All things considered, he handles it pretty well.

Vortalis recovers, mostly. Antari magic can heal major wounds but scars are still left behind and his are in his lungs and near his heart. They don't realize at first the extent of the damage. He's still exhausted of course and not entirely steady on his feet, but he's not on the verge of keeling over.

Then one moment he's his usual self and the next Vortalis can't breathe. There's a vice around his chest and he can't get air in between the coughing and he's clawing at his throat and oh god he's been poisoned again-

Then he feels Holland's hand on his chest, pushing air into his lungs and keeping his heart beat steady. His voice assures him, it's all right, you're still alive, I'm here, just breathe-

It is the first time such a thing happens. It is not the last.

Vortalis has survived a lot of dangerous confrontations and manages any trauma from them pretty well. But now he can't even look at his cigars. He's wary of offered food and drink. Every few nights he wakes up struggling to breathe, Holland always there to keep him steady. Hypervigilance kicks in hard whenever Holland is out of the castle. A thousand what ifs cross his mind.

Then the doubts start to creep in. What if the rest of London sees an ill king and once again consider regicide? What if they can't heal Makt like this? What if Holland can't save him next time? What if he dies and Holland is left alone?

The first time Vortalis brings up making a backup plan in case he dies, Holland shuts it down the moment he realizes where the conversation is going. Isn't his magic enough to keep them both alive? It was enough to save them from the Danes.

(Holland hunts down Kell to demand Arnes provide a solution and no, tea alone isn't enough, Makt needs him well and so do I)

Very few people here lack scars. Vortalis has plenty already; these ones are just internal.

It doesn't get better exactly; Makt is always cold and he's sure that makes it worst: the coughing, the wheezing, the struggle to breathe. But they learn how to handle it.

They hold the throne for another 7 years and plan to hold it for several more. Makt still struggles but it isn't bleeding as much as it did under Gorst or another dozen tyrants or how it would have under the Danes. Bit by bit, Arnes starts to make up for their original sin.

They still have each other. They still rule together. They have to be enough.

[oonajaeadira]

Hi Adira!

Happy Thanksgiving month! 🦃

What is something are you thankful for this year?

Pumpkin, Apple, or Pecan pie?

What is your favorite Thanksgiving side dish?

KAT! IT'S NOVEMBER! I MADE IT! AND YOU'RE HERE!

I am thankful for the oncoming free time I'm about to have. This year has been BONKERS. I just went back through my calendar and there hasn't been a week where I wasn't either developing, performing, or traveling with a show or festival and I'm fricken exhausted. I was going to apply for a couple of residencies, but I am thankful that I had the presence of mind to tell myself no. There is always another year and I would like some rest please.

And I would like to hang out with some of my friends. I have a whole list of people who I miss and would have required "working into my schedule" which always feels awful, as if they're lower priority in my life. They aren't. I'm thankful for my friends and I am making the choice to spend more time with them.

PIE. My choice is always just pie.

But really, when presented with these, I'm probably going to go for the pumpkin on texture and spice alone. Apple's a close second and depending on the baker, I might actually go after that first. A nice flaky crust--not too thick--with a lot of good spice in there? Apples that are soft with just a little bite left to them? Divine.

Pecan pie is fine and I will take it if there aren't any other choices. I just have a hard time accepting that I am eating a slice of pure sugar with some nuts on it.

I'm not really a fan of Thanksgiving food, tbh. A lot of that stems from my mom being a horrible cook + her insisting on doing all the cooking + she finds a reason to fly off the handle and be a major c*nt every year. So, bad feelings about Thanksgiving all around.

HOWEVER. The SO comes from a farming community with big families big hearts and big appetites for southern cooking. I've finally told my family that I'll be spending my Tksgvns with his family because we've been together 14 years and they're my family too. We have to travel far enough that I don't get to see them but for that one time a year, and really, it's also an excuse to go where the eatin's good. They make this noodle dish the morning of, in this huge vat with a special wooden spoon that's long enough for it. The noodles have to be continually stirred and so everyone takes a turn while the SO's stepmom makes all the other fixings. I mean, I love anything that's super starchy so usually I'll fill half my plate with mashed potatoes. But there's just something about those noodles--about taking my turn to stir them with everyone else--that makes me feel like I've finally found a family. And that's prolly half the reason they taste so good.

[lover-of-mine]

Re: the "Natalia and I, we broke up." + "all she wanted to talk about was death; it was kinda boring." That scene, and particularly reading the Tim M. interview where he talked about being "over all the death talk" and how those lines in the script might have been a little bit of him talking, actually have me concerned that they've abandoned what seems like was the lead up to an actual Buck Breakdown™ arc.

(Or possibly worse, they consider 6b to *be* the Buck Breakdown arc and work through of all his trauma, and now they consider it done.)

Oliver's interviews talking about Buck 'being a new man' 'just doing things that make him happy' 'finally getting off the hamster wheel" and overall being in a much better place suggest that he's in that like post-breakdown/healing journey already? Idk, I felt like there was a lot in the second half of 6B with Buck's storyline that got a little fumbled/sloppy with the fear of cancellation and them trying to put a final bow on things, but there was also a lot that suggested we were heading towards a really meaty, Breakdown™ story in S7. Now it's sounding kind of like, because of how it was handled last season, Tim has lost interest and is ready to just kind of mark that story as case closed and skip ahead to "happy, new man" Buck.

I see what you mean, but seriously, it would be a bad storytelling decision to have this major trauma in Buck's life be completely ignored/handled off screen again, say he's Buck 4.0 and call it a day would be annoying as hell. They handled that pretty badly with the fear of cancellation and with Natalia not coming back, they didn't even have a satisfying ending for that. I wrote this and this this weekend, and I don't know if this is a reaction to that or if I'm just a person you felt like you could send these thoughts to, but Buck thinking death is boring just to be heavily triggered by death is a possibility. Because we know Bobby is in mortal danger, and his biggest trigger in the coma was the fact that Bobby was dead, and Buck finally being able to face that is something that could work. And Buck working on himself without a major breakdown, maybe because he felt like he was getting there and decided not to let it get that bad could also be a conclusion there. I want a full breakdown for Buck, I want him on the floor crying, but depending on how they make the whole "he's a new man" thing, I could get behind it. They just have to acknowledge it happened, because you can't have Eddie's whole arc about burying his feelings and having that blow up in his face, effectively establishing that just "moving past it" doesn't work, to have Buck be all fine by just moving past it.

All the talk is actually making me think about my initial speculation about Buck/buddie and my whole Buck drowning thing, because the whole thing hinged on Buck being fine and getting triggered. Because I wrote a really long thing about Buck getting triggered over something happening to Bobby, Maddie, or Chris, that leading to him getting all sorts of unstable before deciding to work on himself, and while I did speculate on a full breakdown, Buck recognizing the trigger and asking for help before things get explosive are a way to handle him without the "exhausting death talk" because we are not dealing with Buck's death, we are dealing with someone else, and with a Buck that wants to be alive and could get conflicted about how to handle the situation. Because Buck and Eddie mirror each other and Eddie's breakdown buildup started when he was introduced, the well and the shooting are one of the stops yeah, but everything about Eddie led him to fear-o-phobia. Buck's breakdown has been building since Buck begins, and he's been slowly self destructing since then, but the lightning is Buck's well (volunteering into the situation, night and rain aspect of it, saving himself), so if they keep mirroring the 2, Buck needs another trigger, because what actually triggers Eddie isn't the possibility of his death, is the death of someone else, because he's the last one standing, forever the one left behind. But where Eddie is the widower, Buck is the savior, so the most effective way to trigger him would be failing to save someone he loves, and with the focus on Bobby in his coma world, and the way Bobby is about to die, the possibility is right there. But let's say they don't go with that, a Buck breakdown wouldn't be explosive, and Buck focusing on being a better man, acting like he's getting better just to have something happens to shake that belief by the end of the season (buddie car crash in the season finale you heard it here first on October 16 2023 lol), is a way to move past the death talk for a while just to have it all came crashing down later on, the same way Eddie seemed fine until he wasn't (I mean in s4, s5 Eddie is hanging by a thread the whole time). But this is mostly what I've been telling myself over how they're talking about Buck, because I need that man to break so he can actually move on with his life.

[belethlegwen]

Real Life, Sorry

How do I tell some of my best friends in the world that I am leaving them?

Like, specifically it's a work thing. I love these girls to bits and pieces. If I could handle it, if I could keep it up, if I could roll the dice with them and take these gambles that the year keeps throwing at all of us, I would. Over and over again, I would.

I signed paperwork today. I agreed to a job offer at another location. It's different; it's probably not going to be 'as good' in so many ways as what I have/had with these guys. But it's going to be easier. It's going to be stable. It's what I need for the next year; maybe the next two.

Two of the girls I've spoken to about it, but it was before it was fully set in stone. Tomorrow I pay rent for my current place, and I feel like I need to be upfront and tell the business owner/person I rent from that I'm gonna be gone (before, technically) by the end of the month. I need to start telling my clients. I need to figure it all out.

It's terrifying. For all the not-great parts of the last four years, these girls are the reason I survived the pandemic and the reason I was able to do what I do and love for this long. I'm still going to do what I love! There will be less control, but again: sometimes you need to let another person take the wheel for a while and just ride.

I don't know that I've ever left a job where I was missed after I went. I don't know that there's been a job I've left where there wasn't just... resentment or something for me in the wake of me going, no matter how it happened. Maybe that's just the paranoia, maybe that's just my anxiety, but I'm terrified it'll happen this time. I'm terrified at least one of them will see it as some kind of betrayal; that I'm abandoning them while all of this shit is going on.

I love them.

I'll miss them.

Maybe they won't miss me.

Maybe these pipe dreams of getting through the next year alive and being able to reevaluate, reassess, and regroup with them and go back to this are just that.

But for a while we had the best thing I ever had and I have to tell myself I can always be thankful for it. For any bad, there was so so so much good. There will be good for me wherever I go; I'll make it good. I know I can. They've shown me I can.

Life changes. It feels like life won't stop changing; that it's all changing.

Normally when there are major periods of change in my life, I've previously had dreams of Orcas and dolphins. They haven't shown up this time. I don't know what to make of that. The dreams always involved me seeing them in the distance, or hearing of them, and not being able to get as close as I wanted to. Not being able to really see them. Maybe this time I'm more in control. Maybe this time it's not something running away from me.

I hope I get to see the Orcas, finally.

Sorry for the ramble and rant, I was exhausted when I got home at 5pm and made the mistake of slamming back a Monster Java. My feelings are everywhere.

[slifarianhawk]

Chapter 4: in the ring

It has been roughly a month since the start of my stay at the Fortress of Meropide. To say I was adapting would be an understatement. In the few short weeks I'd been there, I had become someone the residents of the fortress could count on.

While on the work floor, I was handling the molding of gears and carrying heavy parts. When someone was mildly injured, I helped either patch them up or help them get to the infirmary. I had seen Wriothesley doing rounds but kept my distance. Hell, I hadn't even requested to have tea with him. I felt like it would bring him under scrutiny with his guardes.

Some guardes were warming up to me. However, many still viewed me as a threat. The one who caused my wound to reopen from what I heard was stationed in the abandoned production zone after his grace finished his investigation. However, he seemed to have his fingers wrapped around the hearts of some of the guardes. I have found letters at my work station and on my bunk telling me various horrible that will be done to me if the writer ever got the chance to.

I was tempted to tell Sigewinne about this. However, I didn't want her to worry. She is so sweet and cares for everyone here. I couldn't add more to her plate. That's not how I was raised.

I had found another letter on my work bench, this day. It had been covered in what appeared to be dried blood. The contents were particularly vile this time. I sighed, shoved it to the side, and started to mold the gears. I focused on making sure no excess was being put in the mold.

That was when I heard a massive crash a short distance away. I quickly looked behind me and saw an elderly man on the floor, and a cart of large gears toppled over next to him. I ran over to him and helped him up.

"Hey, are you alright?" I asked as the man braced himself against the wall.

"Oh, it's just my knees. You have no need to worry about me, lass." He said, looking over the mess as he collapsed onto his knees,"I think these old bones of mine just aren't cut out for manual labor anymore."

"Hey, are you guys alright?" A guarde asked, running up.

"Hey Sam, I'm OK, but I'm pretty sure he needs to go see Sigewinne." I said, offering my hand to the man.

The gentleman sighed, taking my hand as I helped him up. He had torn through his pants. He had peeled off a good amount of skin. I could tell it was nothing major, but if it wasn't treated, it would hinder his next days work, and the older people in Meropide had a rougher time without having a decent stash of coupons

"Come on, old timer, let's get you to nurse Sigewinne. Are you okay with that, Sam?" I asked, draping the gentleman's arm over my shoulder to lessen the pressure on the guy's knees.

"You do what you always do, Silva. Feel free to call it the day after. I'll bring up your earnings to the mess hall after we get this mess picked up." Sam said, his eyes looking exhausted.

"I'm grateful to you, Sam. How about I treat you to a Fonta after you get me those coupons?" I said as I started towards the lift.

"I'll look forward to it." He called out after me as he started to load up gears on the cart.

I sighed and made my way to the infirmary. The walk was quiet mostly. The man winced every now and then as we slowly made our way through the fortress.

"I noticed you're quite strong, young lass. I find it strange I haven't seen you in the Pankration ring." The gentleman said as we entered the hallway that led to the infirmary.

"I've heard of the fighting ring in the fortress, I just haven't had much interest given why I'm here." I said, looking into the man's dull eyes.

"You seem to have a lot on your mind. So I won't push you on it, but I do think you should give it a chance. You might even surprise yourself with what you can do." The man chuckled as we walked down the stairs into the infirmary.

"Hey, Sigewinne, got one for ya." I said, helping the gentleman on to the right most bed.

Sigewinne turned from her desk and walked over to us, "Robbie, what did you do now?"

So that was the guys name, I probably should have asked.

"Oh, it's nothing head nurse. My knees just gave out while on the production zone." He tried to brush it off only to wince when Sigewinne lightly tapped his knee.

"He is neglecting to say it was while he was pushing a fully loaded gear cart." I sigh, sitting at the desk.

"Robbie! I told you to take it easy! It's only been three days since you were last in here." I heard Sigewinne chew him out.

After a while, Sigewinne wrapped Robbie's knees and sent him on his way. She walked over to me and smiled. There was a look of concern on her small face. After a brief, second    curiosity killed the cat.

"Something on your mind, head nurse?" I asked, standing up to crack my back.

"Your eyes are strained. How long have you been dealing with that headache?" She said, looking up at me.

"Sigh, that obvious, huh?" I said, rolling  my neck, trying to relieve the tension that had been there for the past three days, "It started about two days ago, I think."

"You keep pushing yourself to make others' lives easier here. You really should be taking care of yourself. You have even been pulling long shifts in the production zone. You need to take a break tomorrow." She said her voice as soft as it was had a depth of worry to it.

"OK, but only for you, Sigewinne." I said, earning a resounding hmph.

After a moment, we both chuckled, and she handed me a couple of dried marcotte,"Chew these and drink some water after. That should ease your headache. But come back tomorrow if it persists."

"You got it, boss." I said, taking the flowers popping one in my mouth as I walked down towards the mess hall.

I shook my head lightly. It had been a long while since I had relaxed. How could I? I went to the post station a few days after mine and Wriothesley's tea session. To my horror, it cost around two thousand coupons to send a single letter to Liyue harbor. I didn't make a fuss, I just bit my nails and got to work.

Little did I know that I had only been able to save about roughly a hundred fifty coupons a day. But that didn't include budgeting for soap and other necessities. I was almost there, just roughly five hundred to go. Two long shifts more, and I would have been able to send Baizhu a letter requesting a contract for Sigewinne as I said I would.

Had I really been running myself ragged? I didn't even that bad. It was just a typical migraine. I hadn't  been taking the medicinal tea Baizhu made for me to prevent them. I was a fucking coward.

As I got down to the cafeteria, I noticed Sam speaking with Wosley. Wosley was a nice man but perfered to be in his kitchen rather than around a bunch of inmates. Who could blame him in all honesty. I knew that some inmates who were nonviolent and trusted by Wosley worked beside him making the welfare meals. Honestly it sounded like a good deal.

"Hey guys," I said, walking past them and over to Ban.

"Oh, there you are, Silva. I was just about to head up to the infirmary. You took your sweet ass time to get here." Sam said, standing up from his hunched over position.

"Yea, sorry, Ms. Sigewinne told me to take the day off tomorrow. That's four hundred coupons down the drain, sadly. Not that I'm mad about it. I was just so close to my goal finally." I sigh, grabbing my welfare meal and walking up to Wosleys window.

"To be far, you haven't taken a day to rest for about two weeks." Sam said, "I understand her concern."

"What can I get you today?" Wosley asked a calm sparkle in his hazel eyes.

"Two Fontas Wosley. I'm treating Sam to one today." I chuckled as a sharp pain pierced my temple.

"Coming right up, Silva." He said, turning, grabbing a couple from a cold box on the side of the kitchen.

"Sam, I got a question for you." I said, taking the Fontas from the window and sitting at the first table.

"What's up?" He asked, sitting in front of me.

I handed him a beverage and opened the meal... purple steak again. I sighed and dug in. This was the fifth day in a row that this was my meal. I just bit my tongue and ate. The conversation I had with Robbie replaying in my head.

"How many coupons does one rake in if they win a match in the Pankration ring?" I asked taking a sip of my drink.

The look Sam had on was priceless, it was of shock and bewilderment.

"W...well it can very I've seen as low as three hundred and as high as a thousand five hundred but that person had received a share of the bets and a few tips from on lookers." Sam said coughing a few times once he had finished speaking, "Your not thinking of fighting right? I know your strong but you don't seem like you'd hurt a crystal fly."

"In all honesty, I might have to. Robbie, the man I brought to the infirmary said I should try it out and seeing that's it has been a month of me working the production zone and I've barely saved over a thousand six hundred coupons I might have to. I promised someone I'd do a favor for Ms. Sigewinne. After all she treats us all with such kindness. I just want to help her. However that requires sending a letter to my friend in Liyue. Which unfortunately cost two thousand." I shook my head finishing the strange tasting meat.

"That is fair enough I guess. So would you like to go talk to the ring manager? I have to be back on duty in a bit but I can at least walk you there." Sam offered but I swiftly decline.

"I'll pass, I don't want you reputation to be soured with other guardes just because you've been seen with me." I say heavily sighing.

"Some guardes still giving you trouble huh?" He asked pulling coupons out of his pocket and placing them on the table.

I simply nodd and stare at the stack he placed on the table. Three hundred coupons if my calculations were correct. I would of been just shy of the amount I needed but I wasn't about to ignore Sigewinnes orders. That sets me back to around thousand five hundred.

"Keep your chin up Silva. Who knows, maybe if you do make a name for yourself in the ring they'd show you some respect." Sam said walking away, "See you in a couple days."

I waited for him to be out of sight then headed for the ring. I walked straight there and took the lift down. I wasn't exactly afraid. I knew how to fight both Ayato and Mr. Zhongli saw to that. Then the thought of the ten guards came to mind and I shuddered.

Hey it's OK! You haven't been in contact with that drug you were dosed with. Nothing will happen. My inner self screamed at me.

Stopping and taking a deep breath I gathered myself. I took a moment to think this over logically. My thoughts ranged from coupon budgets to work schedule impacts if I got injured. But on thing sold it for me. What happens if my skills rust while I'm in here. Tevat is a dangerous place and while I know I could always use alchemy to cover my ass. I needed to keep my instincts sharp.

I carried onward to my destination. The room had the smell of sweat and iron tinged with a slightest hint of blood.  The ceiling was high and the stands had quite a lot people in them.

It was just the middle of the day and there was a match playing out in the ring. It being a Saturday, this made sense. I stood along the side lines as the inmate fought a decent sized armored crab. He was using a standard iron point pole arm.

The crab and the man exchanged a few blows before the guy managed to get the tip of the spear into a crack in the chitin of the crabs underside. Slamming the poor beast on the steel head first created a loud crunch that echoed throughout the arena. After letting out a squeaky screech the beast mouth bubbled as it collapsed to the floor of the ring.

The audience burst with mild bouts of applause. The inmate stepped out of the ring as a crew went up and dragged the carcass of the crab off.  The man started to talk to the person in front of a bulletin board.

I approached cautiously. The man by the bulletin board quickly noticed me and smiled. Placing a hand up as if to tell the winner of the match we just witnessed to give him a moment.

"I was starting to wonder if you would ever grace our presence." The burly man said with a smile.

"Who me?" I asked curiously when I reached him.

"Who else would I be speaking to. I am Roussimoff. I manage the ring and the fighters." He said offering his hand.

I placed my hand in his, "I'm Silva, I was wondering it I could sign up for a match. I can't let my training go to waist, right?".

Roussimoff shook my hand with gusto, "Well for the girl who put ten guards in the hospital, you are very polite. I'm sure I can line up a match for you tonight if you can cover the entry fee. I can't garentee a high pay out but it will be at least Six hundred since it will be later in the evening. The buy in is three hundred coupons. Are you in?"

I was about to pull out the coupons Sam gave me from my time in the production zone when I heard a snort.

"Roussimoff, you can't be serious? Look at this girl! I doubt she's ever seen a real fight! Look at her! She's more built for the brothel than the battlefield!" The man wielding the pole arm exclaimed.

"Excuse me! Would you care to repeat that again?" I said harshly, my eye twitching in annoyance.

"Not now girl, men are talking." The asshole said.

"That enough Renard! You know that anyone in the fortress can partake in the ring so long as they have a buy in and aren't banned by his grace!" Roussimoff shouted, "I expected better from you than this slander. I'll have you know I've watched Ms. Silva in the production zone more times than naught carrying heavy equipment and parts with out breaking a sweat."

"Then why don't we see if she can prove me wrong! You seem so sure of her then place her up against me, your top rookie!" The pole arm wielder shouted as a loud resonance of cheers backed this guy up.

"I'm sorry about this Ms. Silva, but perhaps you can wait a few day til this blows over?" Roussimoff said a comforting tone in his voice.

I simply chortled and pulled out the coupons and slammed them in Roussimoff's hand.

"You have no need to worry about me.   I think I'll have to instill proper manners into this bastard of a man." I said looking Renard in the eyes.

"I'd like to see you try wench!" He said, "seven thirty be here and maybe I can beat that unsightly language out of your mouth."

He walked away laughing. I felt a wave of calm wash over me. I hadn't felt this in roughly four years. Not since the Tenryou commission demanded I'd be arrested for spilling tea on their master while serving the Kamisato clan. Ayato had my back at that time but I was on my own now.

This calm was the silence before a storm. Roussimoff pulled me to the side. He had a stern look on his face. I could tell he wasn't pleased with the situation.

"Are you sure about this? While I don't know your skills I can tell you Renard isn't a pushover. He just started just over a month ago but hasn't lost a single time. While there is no killing in the ring rule, you could end up severely hurt. Worse than you were when you arrived at Meropide." He said his expression shifting to one of concern.

"I know, I've seen plenty of fighters crushed and broken on the infirmary beds after what I heard were gruesome fights." I said rubbing my now throbbing temple, "However, I couldn't just stand there and accept that asshats disrespect. I was raised by house Kamisato, I was taught to not take slander lightly."

"So you're from Inazuma then? We have a few inmates from there. So I assume you fighting style would be typical Inazumian sword martial arts?" He asked.

"No, sadly, I wasn't taught swordplay during my years at the Kamisato estate. i learned a decent amount of mixed martial arts. I learned how to fight with arms after I left Inazuma. Is there a place where I can get a weapon?" I asked, looking around the arena.

"Head to the rag and bone shop, tell them I sent you. They will get you something you like." Roussimoff said.

I quickly thanked him and ran off towards the shop. As long as I had a weapon, I could make a strategy again a pole arm wielder. Mr. Zhongli, he made sure I was able to defend myself before I started to travel.

I arrived at the rag and bones shop within a few minutes of leaving the ring. There wasn't a line, just Alvard shouting at the stockers to be careful. Unfortunately, I hadn't timed my slow down quickly enough and ended up slamming into the steel wall.

The noise caught Alvards attention. I stood up as he walked over to me. He was wearing a confused look on his face.

"Silva, are you alright? Normally, you don't sprint in, nor is it the time of the week you normally come and get your toiletries." Alvard said, scratching  his head.

"Not this time, Al. I have a Pankration match tonight, and I need some form of weapon. Preferably something good against a pole arm.

"Sadly, we haven't had a restock of Pankration accessories. But you can look around for things you think you can use Silva. Can't have ya be stuck in the infirmary for too long?" Alvard said an airy chuckle pushed past his chapped lips.

"Thanks..." I sighed as I looked through the near barren stock.

There wasn't much, just some rusted short swords and a couple of ripped up tomes. That was troublesome. Swords never really fought well against pole arms, and I had known very little about using catalysts. That was when I noticed the long wires bound together in the corner of the last crate.

Picking up the bundle, I studied the wires.  They had a slight familiar purple glow about them... eletro crystal. I had heard rumors that the research institute of Fontaine was experimenting with the element infused stones. Were these wires a prototype that was discarded and sent here by mistake?

The group was of four ten to twelve foot long glowing wires. I had read previously that certain combat scenarios wires could be used to tangle and entrap enemies without the usage of intricate knots. I held the wires in my hand and felt the hmm of the electro energy purring through them.

I pulled them out of the crate and turned to face the shelf behind me where various empty bottles just lined the shelves. Some of them reminded me of the jars Baizhu had stacked in his shelves. I noticed a set of vials behind the rest of the bottles and called Alvard over.

"Hey Alvard, how much for the flight of vials on the shelf?" I asked curiously.

"Those old things just take them. We haven't had a place for those since the change of wardens. His grace doesn't need to carry around poisoning agents like the last warden did. Heck, I think we have another few dozen in the storage area." Alvard said, reaching behind the many jars and bottles, pulling them forward.

"Depending on how my fight goes, I might be back for them." I said, grabbing the little bo⅞ttles from him.

"What's your plan?" He asked, staring at the items in my hands.

"You'll just have to come to the arena and see." I said, smiling and walking out.

I knew what I'd do and what it would take. I had to be fast. The steeping time and brewing would take the most time. I always had one thing that stood above most of my foes, and tonight, I was going to show that.

(Time skip seven twenty-six)

I breathed heavily as I walked up the steps. My dark navy hair pulled back into a high pony, the odd forest green highlights standing out against my pale skin. I was in a sports binding for my chest and tight-fitting khaki shorts with deep pouch-like pockets. My secret weapon tucked inside those said pockets, clinking away as I strode up the stairs.

Renard stood at the other edge of the ring pole arm slung over his shoulders. I could hear his snickering through the cheers of the crowd. Many calls to kick her ass or show her  what she's good for. Not a sound escaped my lips. All there was on my face was a smirk.

"You ready to be shown to the kitchens?" Renard laughed, swinging his spear down, pointing the tip at me.

"Yeah, she's been making it hard for us to keep up with quota in the production zone! Knock her down a peg." A random inmate shouted from the stands.

I took a moment to look out towards the stands. It seems he rallied some people who were less than fond of me, and one person stood out in particular, the guard who escorted me into Meropide. He was standing right up front against the stands railing.

"Gathering my fans, aye? That's not going to help you, Renard. You're just adding more fuel to the flame." I say pull out the wire from my right side pocket and loosely wrapping the ends around my knuckles.

"Well, well, it seems this girl has a spark after all. What do you guys say? Shall I run her through, like I did that crab earlier?" Applause roared from the crowd.

Roussimoff walked over to the edge of the stairs, and the crowd got even louder. He stared at the two of us for about eight seconds each and shook his head.

"Residents of Meropide! Welcome to our main event of the evening! On the left corner, he is strong with a pole arm and has captured your hearts in a short span of the past month. The local rookie, please welcome Renard!"  Roussimoff shouted as Renard slammed the butt of his spear on the metal floor.

I rolled my eyes as Roussimoff started my introduction, "In the right corner, she made her name, taking out ten guards unarmed before arriving. She works to keep the production zone efficient and safe. Put your hands together for our newcomer, Silva!".

A couple of claps rang out from the stands. No one nearly as excited about me as they were my opponent. Roussimoff shook his head at the disparity between my and Renards support.

"You both know the rules! Now fight!" He shouted, jumping from the steps.

Without blinking an eye, Renard charged forward. The tip of his pike was aimed at my ankles. As he got close, I reached down and grabbed the  head of the spear. Yanking the spear forward, I prepared my unwired fist. Once he got close to me, I delivered a raging upper cut.

A gasp rang out from the crowd. Then roars of disbelief. Renard recovered at the roars of the inmates and jumped back. A serious look growing on his face.

"That was a ballsy move wench!" He spat quickly, pulling his lance into a defensive position.

"I have more balls than you, more than likely!" I said, dashing behind him slowly unfurling the wires.

He was quick on his feet! He spun around and slashed at my face. Barely managing to duck underneath the pole arm, I felt the sting of the blade cutting into my forehead. I jumped back, swinging my right fist down to my side. The wires followed the command without hesitation.

There was a tearing sound as the wires cut through Renards clothes. The scraped fabric hung off his body, revealing welling up lashes that were prominent on his torso. I saw singed threading where the wires had cut.

"I see the electro crystals amplify the cutting power of the wires." I said, noting the stunned look on Renards face.

There was an enraged outcry from the stands. Confusion raced through the crowd. The wires were no more than three eights of an inch thick. To one far away, it would appear as if nothing had just ripped apart my opponent's clothing.

"Whips are you insane? Dumbass broad!" Renard shouted, clenching his welted abdomen.

"You make use of what you have in prison, right? Not everyone has the luxury of being able to receive a mid grade spear such as that!" I smirked, tucking my left hand, and pulled out a couple of clear liquid filled vials.

"Like I'd let a rat like you take my spotlight! I worked to earn this weapon!" He said, lunging towards me.

I side stepped tossing the vials. Crack! The vials shatter soaking his clothes and face in water. I heard him sputter as he wiped water from his face.

"What the hell? Did you just throw water on me?" Renard said, swinging blindly.

I spun around, wrapping the wires around his legs.  His motions stopped as he looked towards his legs. I pulled them tight, noticing the thin current running through the wire. Quickly, I grabbed another vial of water and threw it his bound legs. As the current surged, I yanked the wires, sending Renard toppling to the steel floor.

Renard choked on his voice as if trying to hide the pain he was in. Sounds came out in a rattled motion. His body had purple bolts of electro energy racing through the water. I yanked once again, pulling the wires free, shredding his pant legs, and caused deep gouged areas on his ankles.

"Just who the hell do you think you are?" He manages to gasp out between spasms.

"Me... I'm just a poor lost girl looking for her mother. You, on the other hand, renard are so jaded and disgusting towards women you couldn't even see the leagues between us expirence wise." I said pulling out a large chilling vial, "It's time I end this match."

Renard growled as he tried to stand. The electro energy still flowing over him. The water dripping from his shredded clothes. He looked pitiful as I slammed down the vial.

The mist flower corolla potion acted fast coat his body in a thin layer of ice supercharging the remaining electro energy. I watched as the foolish man tried to fight against the elements only to pass out completely pass out.

Roussimoff rushed up, lifting my arm.

"That's it, we have the victor for this match. In an absolute upset, the winner is Silva." Roussimoff shouted, staring down at my form, "hardly broke a sweat it appears too."

"We were leagues apart in battle experience. That's what did him in." I said as the crowd burst into a bout of cheers and chaos. The bastard who escorted me storming off.

Little did I know that his grace was over on sidelines, slowly applauding.

[luciddaydreamingworlds]

Baby Smurf theory:

So, everyone knows that Baby Smurf was a mistake, right? That he wasn't supposed to be delivered? Ok, good, cuz my theory is about that.

I theorize that the reason why Baby Smurf's stork delivery was a mistake is that the grand majority of the Smurfs aren't old enough, or considered old enough, to raise a kid, and Papa is too old/too strung out to raise another (after 98 at the same time, I don't blame him).

Yeah, sure, they're at least 150 or so years old, but they've shown maturity levels closer to that of human teenagers/young adults than they do adults (which goes along with my headcanon that every 10 human years is equivalent to 1 Smurf year). And, sure, during the time period the Smurfs is supposed to take place in (I think it's the 1500s?), the age of adulthood was much different than it is now, but that doesn't change the fact that teens really should not be raising a child.

Now, I'm not saying that the relationships each Smurf has with Baby isn't adorable (especially Grouchy, who doesn't love a gruff guy with a soft spot?), but it can be a reasonable explanation for why he wasn't supposed to be there, besides some weird Smurf population limit.

Speaking of Grouchy, another reason that makes me believe the reason behind there being an age limit to raising a baby is because Baby was given back after Grouchy proved himself to be a loving, protective, and caring caretaker. If it was some sort of population limit that would've prevented Baby from being raised by the Smurfs, I'm not so sure he would've been given back, but if it was a problem of age/perceived maturity, then I can see why whoever sends the baby Smurfs would change their mind about taking Baby back.

As for why Papa is too strung out to raise another kid, besides him having already raised 98 is- He's still technically raising them. He's still guiding them down the right path and helping them as much as he can. Sure, he may not be as active of a role in their lives as he used to be, but that's mainly due to the fact that they're in their Smurf-teens. A lot of teens, especially at ages 15 and up, tend to stop going to their parents for things as often because they can handle themselves better than they used to. To give Papa another child while he's still struggling to raise his village is very reminiscent of Christian/Mormon families that keep having kids, despite being almost unable to take care of the ones they already have. He even acted kind of the same way, pushing the care of Baby onto the other Smurfs (especially Smurfette). Maybe he had good intentions, like he wanted his Smurfs to have the experience or for Baby to have a 'motherly' figure (which I don't see why it would be a problem if he didn't, after all the Smurfs don't have a motherly figure, and they turned out pretty decently), but it reads like a parent that's too stressed and exhausted from taking care of their older kids that they find themselves ill-prepared to take care of the younger ones. And turning their older ones into secondary parents in the process.

Wow, this went from a silly little theory to a rant really fast. Sorry about that 😅

[leelahsrose]

HONEY | L.M. & K.G.

chapter nine.

"𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙞𝙣'𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙮𝙣𝙖 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙄 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧."

-Toosi, Circa 2022

6:30 AM

Khaleesi stirs in her sleep, soft knocking pecking at her ears. She groans—turning around towards the balcony, her sight already being blinded by sunlight before opening her eyes. She scrunches her eyebrows seeing Kamari on the other side of the window, Khaleesi hops out of bed and runs toward the doors. She couldn't lie, Leesi really didn't trust him after last night—it scared the living shit out of her.

Khaleesi believed that Kamari would deny what Ace had said about him but no, he did have a plan. That was crazy to her, her fingers holding onto the handle tightly—she hears his voice and looks toward her bed. "Who was that last night?"

"Leave me alone, Mari." Her groggily voice was low, she rubs the sleep out of her eyes and sighs out of frustration.

"Are you serious? Leesi, open this door." He bangs his hand against the window and she glances back at her door. "Fuck them! I wanna talk, right now." Khaleesi shuts her curtains and walks back over to her bed, flopping down on the comforter. Her body exhausted from the extra hours of sleep she got. "Leesi, I've been calling you all night."

Khaleesi had drifted off to sleep moments later, little snores slipping from her mouth as her mouth is parted slightly. She wakes up instantly when someone shakes her, Leesi shot up being faced with Kamari. A breeze flying past her, she looks at the balcony door seeing the hinges broken off. "Nigga-"

Kamari pulls her up and lifts Khaleesi over his shoulder, she gasps—punching her fists against his back. "Motherfucka, put me down!" She struggles to get out of his hold, she just wanted one peaceful day without niggas infiltrating her life. Especially ones that want to kill her. "Kali!" Her cry for help startles him as he puts her down quickly, his hand clasping over her mouth.

"What the hell are you doing?" His eyes dark brown, she looks away from him while tugging his hand off of her mouth. "Khaleesi."

"Get out." She hears her sisters voice then darts over to Kali, she grabs Khaleesi's arm moving her away from him. "She doesn't want you here." Kamari reaches for her once again—Kali switching out her knife, pressing it into his neck. "I hope you do."

"Leesi, you know I wouldn't hurt you. I won't kill Q. Nobody gets hurt." He holds his hand out toward her, she looks up at him. "Baby, please, come home." She steps back, shaking her head.

"Please leave."

"I love you." His voice was begging, Khaleesi hits her hand on his chest.

"Just fucking leave! I hate you." Khaleesi races out of her room, Kali looking at Kamari then arching her eyebrow.

"Out."

•••

10:30 PM

"That man's officially lost his mind." Nizhoni takes another bite of her Caesar salad, she moans at how good the taste is then squirms in her seat. "You good though, Khaleesi? Niggas is crazy now-a-days. Gotta be careful, sis."

"She ain't careful, she with another crazy nigga." Khaleesi glares at Kali then smacks her shoulder. "Don't get mad at me cause that nigga left you high and dry last night."

"Fucking bitch!" She tugs on her hair and Nizhoni annoyingly breaks their fight up, Kali flicks her on the forehead and Khaleesi sighs. "I'm not with that man." Her cheeks hot and her mind bothered by just the thought of Ace, she still couldn't get Kamari's words off of her mental. "He's irritating as hell."

"When he's not in between your legs, just saying." Kali holds her hands up and Nizhoni shushes her. Khaleesi hears noisy talking coming from the corner of the café, they were currently on Michigan State's campus. Nizhoni goes to school here and has been for two years now—she's a nursing major. She spots the last face she wants to see and briskly ducks behind Kali, a string of curses coming from her mouth. "What is it?"

"It's Ace." Nizhoni races to Khaleesi's seat to help conceal her from his view. "Act normal." They pose in an awkward way causing Khaleesi to sigh out of frustration, she hits the seat causing Kali to jump.

"Fuck, he's looking."

"What?! You bitches were suppose to act normal." Khaleesi stands up—huffing out an exasperated breath, Nizhoni letting her have her seat back.

"Yo, Leesi!" She looks up at him then rolls her eyes, pulling a piece of hair behind her ear. "Man, niggas wanna act so fake. Scoot over." He moves into her seat grabbing her arm so she wouldn't fall over, Khaleesi groans hitting him in the chest.

"Y'all cute." Nizhoni points at the both of them, a wide smile on her face.

"That's what I be tryna tell her." He leans forward nodding towards Khaleesi, the view in the window reflecting off his golds.

"It's not happening." She switches her hair to the side and takes a few more bites of her fruit cup.

"Whatever man, look, you study for the test? Take my flash cards, quiz me." He hands Nizhoni a stack of white index cards, she purses her lips and begins to flip through them. Khaleesi tunes them out as she turns toward Kali, her nostrils flaring. "Don't be talking about me over there." His back pressing on her side a little, she gasps and suddenly grabs his wrist.

"You play too much!"

"You didn't fall though."

"Shutup! Kali, Niz, I'm finna go. I have to get dressed for work, tell me how your shift goes." She pats her sister's shoulder while standing up, her fruit secured in her hand.

"No goodbye to me?"

"Fuck you, Ace." Khaleesi glances back at him, he smiles standing up quickly to run after her.

"Come with me." She looks at him furrowing her eyebrows whilst glancing down at her phone, the time edging towards eleven o' clock. "You tough, you know that? I'll pay for your time. Call out." He licks his lips, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Khaleesi eyes Ace up and down, her thoughts colliding in her mind. "Don't you got stuff to do? Gang stuff?" He laughs removing the black backpack off of his shoulder. "I'm serious, I don't need to be with anyone else doing this. I don't have time."

"Look, I'm tryna better myself—a nigga in college I'm tryna get my degree." She could understand that, she clears her throat looking down.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to judge you so quickly." Khaleesi squeezes the straps of her purse, moving a little closer to him. Her legs crossed as she shifts back and forth on her tip toes, her low-rise dark jeans hugging her curves—she wears a brown crop top to match. Her piercings sticking through the fabric of the shirt.

"You beautiful." She looks up at him through her fluffy extensions, a chuckle slipping through her lips. "Not you blushing."

"Nigga, just give me my money." He digs in his backpack, pulling out a roll of cash—she holds her hand out and he lays it in her palm. "This is more than what I get paid, sir. Take some back."

"Nah, it's double, keep it." She arches her eyebrow and smiles brightly.

"Oh, you got it like that?"

"I got it like that."

"Bye, where's the car?"

"In the back, let me holla at my niggas real quick. Don't go outside yet, wait for me."

"I guess, hurry up."

"Where you going?" Kali stops her little sister in her steps, her arm held out. "Don't be going no where near Kamari." She says before picking up her water to eventually gulp it down.

"I'm going with you know who, I'll be back."

"Uh oh, what y'all finna do?" Kali smirks, a playful look on her face. She has a piece of chocolate cake between her fingers, she places it in her mouth and chews slowly. "You need some condoms? Niz, get my bag." She whispers to her best friend, reaching her arm over the table.

"No need." They stop their movements to look over at her, Khaleesi crossing her arms over her chest. "Y'all, I'm not messing with that man." She whines, glancing over at Ace to see if he was done talking—she couldn't deny it: he was fine and they do have chemistry. "Just hurry up and pass them."

"That's my bitch." Nizhoni tosses them to her, she barely catches them as they land between the tip of her fingers. She stuffs them in her tote then straightens herself up when Ace begins to walk over.

"You ready? Car over here. We see y'all later." He grabs Khaleesi's hand as he walks pass, bringing her along. They get outside and she takes her hand from him, glaring at Ace through squinted eyes. "What I do?"

"Don't be tryna claim me in public, we not together and this—whatever we're doing is not a date."

"You afraid yo nigga watching?" He gently moves her body in front of him then away from the street as they begin to walk, his hands on her waist. She felt secure—melting under his soft touch.

"No, I'm not scared of him." She looks back at Ace batting her lashes, her gaze going back on the sidewalk—her eyebrows creasing a little. "Maybe... what happened in the diner?" Khaleesi stops in front of him, turning around.

"It wasn't nothing, quick little fight."

"Ace, come on."

"That shit gon' get me tight again, ain't no reason for you to be scared either." He laid his arm around her lower back, gradually moving her to the car. "May I open the door for you? Can I at least do that?" They now stand at the passenger side, a car riding past with smooth neo-soul tunes blasting. His lips beginning to lift in a closed smile as Khaleesi nods her head slowly.

"You are allowed." He opens the door to his coupe, Khaleesi bending down— getting into the car while eyeing him.

"Get ya pretty ass in there then."

"Boy bye, get in." He laughs jogging to the other side, hopping in the car—he shuts the door then groans when he hits the seat. "You so extra."

"And you a hater." He presses the push-start while his foot lays on the brake, Khaleesi laying back in the seat—adjusting it as needed. As soon as the car started, the vocals of Pnb rock filled the space. She relaxed, just a bit, the music and the night sky was a vibe to her. He backs out of the parking lot, Khaleesi raising down the window and laying her head on the seal.

The street lights brush across her face as he drives, his hand on the wheel as he glances over at her—the ends of her hair flying through the wind like fire embers. They come to a neighborhood that Khaleesi was all to familiar with, it was Ace's. Multiple people were outside—dancing, playing games, and talking amongst themselves. Trina echoing loudly throughout the streets, she hadn't been here in years.

The energy was amazing, that's all Khaleesi could think about. She leans back in her seat as Ace drives through, he waved at a couple people. They pull into a driveway, a not-so-large house in front of them—the porch full of men and a dash of women here and there. This is his brothers house, a safe place that him and Q used to have to come over and discuss business. "Thought you might be comfortable here."

He leans back against the seat, his arm hanging out of the open window. Khaleesi faces him, laying her cheek on the palm of her hand—her elbow holding up her weight. "What, you my bodyguard now?" He places a wood between his lips, lighting it—his hand up to block out the draft of the wind.

"I can be yo' forever one."

The street lights shining down through the car, Khaleesi feels the squeezing pressure in her face—her cheeks turning red. A closed smile subtly appearing on her lips, she turns toward the window at the neighbors next door barbecuing. "No."

"I'm not that bad once you get to know me."

"That's what they all say."

"I think you should—come find out for yourself." His hand laying on the top of his pants, she turns to him once again and shifts herself in the seat.

"I can't get caught up with anyone else right now." Khaleesi sighs then sits up, she plays with her squared nails—picking at the designs. "You seem like a great person, for real. Let me just try to work this out with Kamari." She was nervous, her thighs shaking as she waited for Ace's response.

"It's my turn now, though." Khaleesi instantly looks in his direction, a look of disbelief on her face.

"Who said I wanted you?"

"You wouldn't be here if you ain't want me, shorty." He takes another hit of his wood, he passes it to Khaleesi and she pauses before taking it in between her fingers. "At least you won't have to worry about ya family liking me."

She glares at him through a side eye then gently laughs, her lips wrapping around the wood. She takes several hits and inhales each one, her head beginning to feel light. Khaleesi could sense Ace's gaze on her, she glances over at him then passes the wood once again. "Whatever."

"Mhm."

"Yo, Ace." Somebody leans down into the window, pointing at the SRT driving down the street. He looks back and Khaleesi follows his stare, she immediately regrets it—recognizing the vehicle as Kamari's car.

"Shit."

"Who the fuck is that?" Ace opens his door and Khaleesi places her hand on his arm swiftly.

"Don't, can you niggas not tonight?" Khaleesi begs, she glances back at his car stopping on the side of the street. "Ace, please."

"Let me handle it, you want him off you right?" She completely stops, her eyes pricking with tears a little—she didn't have the time for drama and Kamari was definitely not giving her the space she needs. "Just stay right here...let me handle it. I promise I won't do no crazy shit. Aight?" Khaleesi squeezes the sides of her seat, she leans back and attempts to relax.

"Okay, just-just hurry up." Khaleesi pushes her seat back then peeks her head over the window. Ace jumping out of the car, pulling his pants up in the process. Her eyes landing on Kamari's built figure, a scowl on his face.

"Where she at?"

"Nigga, you ain't finna walk up in here demanding shit, where they do that at?" Khaleesi breathes out a frustrating breath, her chest moving up and down.

"I ain't got all night, Khaleesi!" One of his friends stops him from walking to the side of the car, his eyes glaring at Kamari as he pushes him back swiftly.

"Nigga." Kamari walks up to him but stops when he notices Leesi standing outside of the passenger door. Her hands hugging her arms as her eyebrows furrow, she walks up slowly—her body hiding itself behind Ace. "Leesi, let's go. You don't even know this nigga." His hand reaching for her, his friends blocking her quickly in one move—Ace already standing in front of Khaleesi.

"Tell you what, I like that you got heart—nigga showed up here by himself." Ace says, shaking his index finger at him—a couple laughs from here and there. Kamari taking a couple steps back, seeing that he was overpowered at the moment. "I'mma give you... two minutes to shake or I'mma kill you."

"Ace." Khaleesi's hand had grabbed the back of his shirt when Kamari came toward her, she couldn't deny it—she was terrified of him now. "You promised." Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper—she couldn't even look at Mari. Ace's dark stare was on his being, the silence was deafening.

"Why you still standing? Get yo' ass up out of here." His hands shoving him against his shoulders, Kamari comes toward Ace—swinging his fist at his cheek. He had dodged it, bringing his hand back and punching him in the face. Khaleesi gasps, Kamari stumbling back a little—his head moving to the side. "Ain't nobody finna jump in, what's good?"

"Cut it out." Khaleesi shoves past his friends and Ace—she eyes him before grabbing onto Kamari's shoulder to lead him to the car before he could react anymore. "Are you insane?! Mari, leave please."

"Leesi, I love you."

"Kamari, please-"

"I'm for real, Leesi." She pauses in her shoes, stopping the shifting on her feet—his eyes welled up with tears. "Baby, I'm sorry I should've trusted you. Would you please come home? Please. I'll prove to you how much I'm sorry, anything."

"Kamari, I need time to think—just give me time to think."

"So you spending your time with him? You don't know him, you just met this fucking nigga?" Khaleesi backs away her eyes looking up at him, he was hurt—extremely hurt. He was really trying to control himself and these strong feelings of anger. "I don't give a fuck about him starting shit, I wanna leave with you."

"I knew you for years and you still were going to kill me, Mari." He gazes down at her.

"I was never gonna kill you, it was just a plan Leesi just in case. But, I realize that that hurt you. I'm sorry, I apologize—I'm not going to ever do that shit again."

"Maybe this is for the best."

"What you talking about? We not done, please, don't push me away right now."

"Maybe we need to be, it's dangerous, Mari." He sighs and shaking his head, Khaleesi follows his gaze. "You know I'm right, you know I am."

"Then let's run." He was being persistent and she didn't want to acknowledge it but it was absolutely turning her on, such an inappropriate time. "I wanna spend the rest of my life with you." Her lashes shutting close a couple times, his eyes scanning every corner of hers. "We'll start over, do it for real this time." It sounded so good, she wanted to jump into his arms so badly but was being held back by her own pride and hurt.

"I can't trust you anymore, I think it's best if we just part ways." She couldn't even look at Kamari, her eyes facing the concrete. She had dealt with so much heartbreak, her chest aching and her head pounding—she couldn't afford another bad guy. She found herself walking away from him, leaving him standing at his car.

She hears the tires streaking against the pavement, Khaleesi stomping up to Ace her finger pressing into his chest. "Don't do that shit again." His hand grabbing onto her arm before she could reach the passenger door, she looks back at him—irritation dancing all over her face.

"I'm just tryna protect you."

"I don't need your protection! Take me the fuck home."

TAGLIST-

@hrlzy @shontellarchive @aaaiyuki @amyhennessyhouse @luvanxi @melaninangel @woahthatshitfat @iamknicole @thabiddie23 @shahanaazsoumah @lettidarawest @motheroffae

[sailor-cerise]

Since I don't see exhaustive examples of what types of support low support needs might entail, I've put mine below. The vast majority of my struggles are from my autism, but my physical disabilities and ADHD also contribute.

The reason I share this is to help people think more deeply about what "supports" means, and understand the different support levels.

Examples of tasks I need significant help with:

Handling any maintenance or repair tasks. I can and have done things like called a plumber, but I cry afterwards and am shaky and on edge the entire time they are on the phone or in my room/house. I have the capacity to do this a few times a year, spread far apart, which is typically much lower than the number of times I need this done. This includes car maintenance, which my partner helps me with.

Doing my taxes. I literally cry while downloading my W2 for my partner to do our taxes, and have had a panic attack because I needed to find an email receipt for tax purposes.

Paying a bill. Best case scenario it's something I can pay online, but I still cannot do more than one at a time and greatly benefit from emotional and logistical support.

Any other financial stuff: transferring money between accounts, managing investments, etc. I log into my accounts and my partner does things for me. I recently gave them access to most accounts now so they can do this without the first step and this one is scary to me but has been so so beneficial. We've been together about 15 years and they always ask permission and tell me specifics. Be careful who you trust with this if you have any choice.

House cleaning. I can do more than my severely physically disabled mother could when I was growing up, but not much. My partner also struggles here but we help each other.

Making decisions. I can decide what to eat and things related to my special interests (e.g. what book to read) for myself, but I really struggle deciding what color of sheets to get, alternatives to grocery brands when one is out of stock, how to cut my hair, which route to take while driving, which parking space to use, etc. and truly cannot do anything bigger (color to paint the kitchen, replacement water heater brand). I will completely shut down.

Examples of things I can do mostly independently (after having put in lasting supports with help from my partner and/or with significant effort). This is what makes me low support needs rather than medium: I can do these things.

Buy groceries (I order online and pickup curbside)

Make food for myself (I cannot reliably prepare food for anyone else)

Shower (I have a blue tooth speaker that I have a hard time showering without, and am able to shower 1-3 times a week)

Driving (sometimes I cannot drive due to physical issues)

Make and attend doctor's appointments (this one is mostly practice and saving up energy for it. I haven't been able to get support for this)

Take my medications (I have set up various systems that work well for me)

Renewing my prescriptions and picking them up (this is super hard and draining and I wish I had more supports for it, but it's something my partner struggles with too)

Working. I have so many accomodations here it's a separate long post. This includes work-related communication (often quite complex)

Ambulating. Sometimes I cannot walk more than a few steps. This is not from my autism.

Changing clothes. I hate doing this and would do it way less often than is appropriate if I did not have a partner that would be bothered by that

Brush my teeth. Oohhh boy this one took me most of my 33 years to sort out, and needed help from one of my best friends. Children's unsweetened toothpaste and ultra soft brushes are essential.

Flossing my teeth. Specific brand and type of floss, one in every room, and I'm actually good at it then. Really really proud of this one.

Brushing my hair. It's a whole Thing for me and I don't do it as often as I should but I can do it.

Making plans with friends or family. This is really hard and my mother helped me with it until she died and now I have some friends who are able to support me in this and I so appreciate them. My partner handles family plans mostly because most of my family is dead or lives very far away.

Speaking on the phone or in writing outside of work contexts. This is very very hard for me. I can do in person okay.

Socializing. This is very very hard for me but I do like it sometimes and have worked hard my whole life to be good at it. I tend to get along with people in a shallow manner.

Going into a crowded space. I need hearing protection (earplugs or headphones), and cannot do it for long periods. I handle it much better when I have a person with me, but hit my limit quickly.

Things I can do most days with no supports (most bADLs):

Basic in-person verbal communication, including limited quantities of small talk

Small purchases (cup of coffee, new book, etc.)

Toileting and continence

Going to bed and waking up

Remembering to eat and the act of eating

Drinking water

Get some gentle exercise of some sort, even just stretching in bed

Participate in one of my special interests. Any limitations here are usually from my physical disabilities, though I've lost this ability during autistic burnout before.

I am also fortunate to be capable of dealing well with emergencies (car accidents, injuries, de-escalation of a dangerous situation, pet emergencies, flooding), though like most people I break down if there are too many in a row. This isn't on any of the IADL lists I've seen, but I personally think it should be.

Reference:

[the-black-dragons-den]

seeking advice if you have experience with cannabis cessation, addiction recovery, substance use disorder, and/or mental health issues, specifically depression, anxiety, and/or borderline personality disorder

tldr; I have to quit cannabis and i'm having a hard time because of my mental health symptoms, specifically being irritable as fuck and i need help/advice on how to get a handle on that

even if you don't have any advice for me, please reblog

background info:

so i've been diagnosed with major depressive disorder (highly treatment resistant), generalized anxiety disorder, and borderline personality disorder.

for the past several years, i've been using cannabis quite effectively to combat the various symptoms of my mental health diagnoses. but in my state, you can't get a medical marijuana card for mental health diagnoses.

i'm starting a trade training program soon, and it's free, and part of the requirement is to be drug-free, including cannabis, since it's still federally illegal. it's not like a "fail-once-you're-out" kind of thing (for cannabis), it's that over a series of drug tests, your levels have to start going down, and they want you clean by the 3rd week of the program.

the program starts at the beginning of september. i've had one drug test at orientation that I definitely failed, but i've been reducing my intake dramatically. used to smoke several bowls a day and in the course of a month, i've gotten myself off of flower entirely. i hit a concentrate pen a couple times a day, and i'm weaning myself off of that too.

lucky for me the withdrawal symptoms from cannabis are basically the mental health symptoms i use cannabis to combat

the difficulty:

i've definitely been feeling the effects of lessening my intake. the anxiety hasn't been too much of an issue but the depression is creeping in. however. i have lived in the pit of depression and anxiety for so long that that stuff doesn't even worry me any more. i'll be able to deal with that okay. i've also come too fucking far with my mental health to give up now, depression is a weak bitch and i've grown strong.

what i'm struggling with is a particular symptom of the BPD. overreactive emotions, particularly irritation. i get irritated by. the littlest things.

like if someone's rude to me (or if i perceive it that way). or if someone's going under the speed limit. or when they stock the shelves too full at the store and stuff falls on me while i'm working. or not getting enough sleep. when someone in the apartment parking lot thinks the "no back-in parking" rule doesn't apply to them. the AC being broken in my car, during our fucking 90 degree summer. little stuff.

it sticks into my brain like a metaphorical porcupine spine and it lives there the rest of the day. and by the end of the day i have like 85 porcupine spines in my brain and i'm ready to lose my shit. it feels, in a way, like my brain is on fire - raw and exposed and vulnerable and like the tiniest thing is going to make it melt entirely.

this is going to sound like an overreaction (but hey that's BPD for you) but i feel like the world has been designed to be sandpaper against my brain, and i'm not allowed to show any signs of discomfort. i am doing my best to put into words how fucking uncomfortable it is for me to live like this, and the words do not feel like enough.

being 100% sober from cannabis is actual hell for me, because the cannabis is the only thing i've been able to find that calms that rage, the irritation, the frustration. it lets the porcupine spines slide out. it puts out the flame and puts a balm on the raw, sandpapered embodiment of my resilience.

this morning i had a tough morning. slept terribly, woke up sweaty and cold, had the worst headache of my life last night. the meat we set out (in the fridge) to thaw for the crockpot didn't thaw. went to work exhausted. aforementioned overstocked-things-fall-on-me. scanner shits out 45 minutes into my day. customers asking me for things when i clearly am not an actual store employee. that's like 8 porcupine spines by 9 am. by the time i had my break, i was overwhelmed, totally pissed off, totally irritated, just rage-swirling in my brain. on my break, i took a hearty puff from my concentrate pen. and then. i was fine. for pretty much the rest of the day. like irritations still came up but they didn't stick like they did before, they rolled off much easier. because that's what cannabis does for me.

but i don't get to use cannabis to de-rage anymore. and that's the problem.

the advice/help i need:

suggestions for handling irritation in the moment so it doesn't get to the point of being overwhelming, therapy tricks, etc

suggestions on anything natural i can take or introduce into my diet that will help with the withdrawal

suggestions on how to avoid going back to cannabis (and therefore blowing my chance for this program)

basically any anger management suggestions

i really ought to get back into therapy, but since i'm not working while i'm taking the class, i can't super afford therapy right now

this is a sincere plea. most people think i'm a really nice person and they don't realize that it's because i'm on at least a little bit of cannabis almost all the time. without it, i'm such a bitch, and not because i want to be a bitch but because i feel like my brain is getting clawed to pieces and i just react, because, BPD.

anything you've got. help. please.

[jakey-beefed-it]

Unleash the Archers was SO FUCKING GOOD you guys

So their two most recent albums, Apex and Abyss, have been very very good. In my opinion, Apex is excellent and Abyss is downright transcendent, but both are awesome. Their earlier stuff is a lot more hit and miss.

So imagine how pleased I was when the majority of their setlist was drawn from those two albums!

(Very. Very, very pleased)

So first off, my only complaint was that the sound quality wasn't what it should've been. It was better than it had been for the other bands, but there were still some issues with clarity that a better venue would've handled.

HOWEVER

The band was amazing. Every aspect, fantastic. I knew the singer and the lead guitarist were both good, but seeing them live, I have a better appreciation for how good. The singer being able to maintain her full vocal power and range the whole night was fucking mind-blowing. Her voice was a little hoarse when talking to the crowd at the end, but where it counted (the songs) she stayed awesome.

The guitarists had some fun noodling around between songs (especially when the lead guitarist needed to change out his guitar due to a technical issue), playing funky riffs and just having a good time. And while performing they had some fun choreographed things, too. Since the rhythm guitarist doesn't do any vocals, he got to jump around the stage more than the other two, and he made the most of that hahah.

I could go on and on about how kick ass they were because holy fuck, but man. Man. That was fucking awesome.

Ash really enjoyed them too, to the point where she asked me to send her some of their songs to listen to (with better mixing hahah), so that's a huge win in my book. Also I kept infodumping about the story with the Matriarch and the Immortal and all that between songs but she's still contented to remain married to me so that's a plus.

Yeah man. Yeah. I went into the show feeling exhausted and with a sore back and feet, and that only got worse as we stood around in the merch line and watching the other bands. (they were fine. They were potentially better than fine, in that I'm going to look them up and listen to them with better sound mixing to give them another shot) And i've been in a weird mixed state mentally the past week or so, where I have very negative thoughts picking at me all the time, so I was having a hard time even dragging myself to the show in the first place. But I did, because I knew I would enjoy it. And while I'm hardly cured, this shit will come back strong some other time, the adrenaline from the drums and the endorphins from the show as a whole have at least temporarily blown the bad vibes straight out of my head.