#I have come to lose all my hinges apparently | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wttcsms · 9 months

Note

WAIT DON'T CLOSE IT YET!!!!! the 'love story told in untraditional format' prompt and DABI??? mm.

would like to meet, touya todoroki ;

pairing touya 'dabi' todoroki x f!reader word count 1.9k synopsis the dregs of society run rampant on hinge, and everyone knows you're not going to meet The One on there. but you know the saying... love does come when you least expect it. alternatively: catching feelings through the hinge dms. content contains one reference to jumping off a building, some sexual jokes author's notes OK not necessarily a love story, but there are feelings in involved, i swear. this is supposed to be fun & silly!!!!

You nearly throw your phone across the room. Download Hinge, your friends encouraged you. It’ll be fun!

You frown at Shigaraki’s ever-so-eloquent opening line of I’d blow yo back out. Yeah, you can see why this app was designed to be deleted. The fucking dregs of society are crawling all over this thing. Just one nice, well-adjusted individual. That’s all you’re asking for!

Apparently, any decent guy is either taken or not on Hinge. You debate throwing in the towel and just meeting someone organically, like, out in public, exactly as the good lord intended, but right before you do, your phone vibrates.

New Notification!

Hinge | Dabi liked your image!

Hinge | Dabi sent you a chat!

It’s a Friday night, and you know for a fact that there is not a single sane man on this app, especially at this hour. Considering the fact that you’re sitting in bed right now, about to rewatch Pride & Prejudice for the sixth time this week, what else do you have to lose? Dignity? You open the app.

Apr 22 10: 24 PM

Dabi: You’re hot, what’s wrong with you

You: ??

Dabi: You’re too hot to be single and on here. What’s your deal

You: you’re on here too? 🤨

Dabi: Would you say I’m too hot to the point where it’s suspicious I’m on here

You: i’m not here to give you an ego boost

Dabi: Then what’s the point of being on here

You: so you just get on here for free compliments?

Dabi: Maybe I have premium. Maybe I pay for these compliments

You: yeah, you look like the type to pay for hinge premium ngl

Dabi: Bye I’m going to talk to girls that are easier to manipulate

You: please do 🙏

Apr 23 1:21 PM

Dabi: Did you miss me

Apr 23 3:15 PM

You: so much

Apr 23 4:47 PM

Dabi: How much

Apr 23 6:01 PM

You: i was going to jump off a bridge if u didn’t text me

Apr 23 8:01 PM

Dabi: Damn that’s crazy

Dabi: How I don’t care

Apr 23 10:15 PM

You: don’t you have anyone else to bother

Dabi: I want to bother you though

You: you probably scared off every girl you’ve ever come in contact with

Dabi: True

Dabi: Except for you because you’re stupid

You: you pay for hinge premium, there’s an idiot in this conversation but it’s def not me

Dabi: I was joking

Dabi: I don’t have money like that

You: i can tell

You: you probably take girls out for coffee as a first date, and then make them venmo u their half of the bill

Dabi: Nah

Dabi: I make her pay the full amount

You: i’m not surprised

Dabi: That was a joke too

Dabi: I never take girls out

You: thank God

You: you’d probably be every girl’s worst date story

Dabi: Want to test that theory out

You: no thanks, i don’t feel like being content material for some crime podcast

Dabi: Smart girl

Apr 24 12:13 PM

Dabi: Wyd

You: at the police station, filing a restraining order on you

Dabi: Damn

Dabi: You want to be the one to put me in cuffs

You: the officer here actually has pink cuffs, i know some guys find that emasculating but you seem like you wouldn’t mind

Dabi: I love pink actually

Dabi: I’m so down

You: i think you’re my dream guy

You: more like my sleep paralysis demon, but same difference

Dabi: Aw you think of me when you sleep

Dabi: You’re that obsessed already

You: stfu

Dabi: Don’t feel bad

Dabi: I’m a munch fr

Dabi: I need u

You: what you need is to be put on some medication

Dabi: Yeah you’re my medication

You: you need to be psychologically evaluated

You: r u a social experiment

Dabi: Stop flirting with me

You: you’re so childish

Dabi: Am I bothering you

Dabi: Do I elicit strong emotions

You: you don’t look like someone who knows the word elicit

Dabi: I’m in grad school

You: wow

You: this is the first time you’ve left me genuinely speechless

Apr 24 3:55 PM

Dabi: Yo when’s ur bday

Dabi: Do you have any siblings

You: are u gonna ask for my mother’s maiden name too

Dabi: Yeah actually

Dabi: Give me your ssn while you’re at it

You: ur a creep, ur lucky ur cute

Dabi: Wow, you can’t have deep convos with anyone any more without being accused of trying to get answers to their security questions

You: tell me something abt you first

Dabi: My dad sucks

You: yeah you look like you would have daddy issues

Dabi: Lmao

Dabi: I’m being fr though

You: yeah, a lot of dads do suck. what abt the rest of ur family?

Dabi: I haven’t seen them in years

You: oh

You: do they suck too?

Dabi: Nah

Dabi: I moved out as soon as I could

You: your dad was that bad?

Dabi: The worst

You: are you trying to get pity pussy rn???? don’t tug on my heartstrings if it’s all just a lie

Dabi: Damn wtf

Dabi: But also depends. Do u wanna give me some pity pussy rn

You: bye i thought we were actually having a serious moment

Dabi: I wasn’t lying. Swear

Dabi: Now tell me something too

You: im an attention seeker. that’s why im on here

Apr 25 1:56 PM

Dabi: Did u miss me not giving u attention

Apr 25 3:56 PM

You: sorry, i was having really crazy sex waiting for u to come back

Dabi: Fire

Dabi: You deserve it

Dabi: Me next?

You: only if you promise to tell me u love me before the post nut clarity hits

Dabi: I love manipulating women during sex

Dabi: Anything for u

You: you say that but someone else is in my dms telling me that i can be his housewife and raise our kids and never work a day in my life again so pls top that offer

Dabi: DAMN

Dabi: I bet he’s boring

You: he’s not boring, we’re actually getting married and gonna have a big family

Dabi: Well clearly the fact that ur talking about him to me shows that u aren’t interested in him

You: i’m telling u abt him so u have something to aspire to

Dabi: Damn you should date him then

You: that’s the first intelligent thing you’ve said

Apr 26 7:00 AM

Dabi: I hate you

Dabi: Wyd today

You: pls mind ur own business

Dabi: Smd

Dabi: Tell me or I block you

Apr 26 8:19 AM

Dabi: U suck

You: and swallow

Dabi: No you don’t

Dabi: You probably spit it out

Apr 27 9:34 AM

You: true but in my defense, you look like you would produce something that tastes like toxic waste

Dabi: Were u deadass ignoring me

You: don’t be so needy, dabi. it’s not a good look

Dabi: Sorry that was a moment weakness

Dabi: So what now

Dabi: Is this when u give me ur insta

You: i don’t have any social media

Dabi: Nah you’re a catfish

You: maybe

Apr 27 1:34 PM

Dabi: Wyd

You: you’re a true wyd warrior, do u realize that

You: i’m currently getting my back blown out by a dude who posted his headshot as one of his hinge pics. i am not even faking my moans.

Dabi: Stfu 😂

Dabi: Do u even know what sex is

Dabi: Name one position

You: easy, missionary

Dabi: Well you’re on your phone so obviously the sex you’re having isn’t that good

You: im just a good multitasker

Dabi: tell me if ur shit is grippy

You: hold on, let me ask him

Dabi: Whats his name

Dabi: Whats he saying

You: don’t worry abt his name

You: he told me im gripping him so tight, it’s like i’m trying to take his blood pressure rn

Dabi: LMAO

Dabi: That means ur not attracted to him

You: wow, a guy who knows that tight doesn’t equal aroused, i’m genuinely impressed w you

You: and for the record, i would never actually fuck a guy who posts a professional headshot as one of his pics on hinge

Dabi: Oh now you tell me

Dabi: Guess I have to cancel the appointment I just made to get a headshot done

Apr 28 6:20 AM

Dabi: Im leaving Okinawa to go back to work. I’m sad, cheer me up

You: just commit a crime so they won’t let you leave

You: also i think maybe u need a psych eval or smth bc why are u still talking to me 🤨

Dabi: Nah tbh you’re the most interesting person on here

Dabi: I’m gonna go to tokyo and commit a crime on u

You: yea, u not being in my guts rn should be a crime

Dabi: Chill my dick isn’t big enough for that 😂

You: i want you to seek professional help

Dabi: I want u to seek these nuts in ur mouth

You: when should i ghost you

Dabi: Whenever u want bae you can ghost me anytime

Apr 28 7:26 AM

Dabi: REPLY

You: u literally told me i could ghost u anytime WHAT IS UR DEAL

Dabi: Damn ok well when you do at least say goodbye

You: when i do, i’m reporting ur hinge account in the hopes that u get banned and have to resort to meeting women irl

You: i’m actually reporting ur account rn

Dabi: Good idea

Dabi: I’ll report u too

Dabi: Before you get banned from hinge, can I have your number

You: no

You: i don’t give my number out to random ass strangers online

You: and ‘dabi’ is a weird name to have saved in my contacts

Dabi: Touya

Dabi: That’s my real name

You: oh

You: who the hell uses a fake name on a dating app??? 😭

Dabi: Stranger danger is real

Dabi: If I take you out on a date will you give me your number

You: a REAL date???

Dabi: Yeah I’m actually a gentleman in case you couldn’t tell

You: i don’t know how i could’ve missed that fact.

Dabi: I’m being fr though

Dabi: Dinner reservations and everything

You: are you paying the entire bill 🤨

Dabi: Why wouldn’t I

You: hmmm

You: every sex joke i made was definitely just a joke though, pls don’t get any crazy ideas

Dabi: Obviously you were joking, I’m not an idiot

You: you’re not gonna try to hit on the first date?

Dabi: If it’ll make you more comfortable, I’ll tape a 10 ft pole to my chest so I can’t get anywhere near you

You: cute

Dabi: Dinner tomorrow?

You: yes, dinner tomorrow

Dabi: And if I do well, I get your number?

You: hmmm

You: i guess

Dabi: Fuck yeah

Dabi: I’m tired of texting you through hinge

You: you only get it IF you do well

Dabi: I’m gonna rock your shit

Dabi: Romantically

You: sure you will

Apr 30 12:01 AM

Are you sure you want to delete the Hinge app?

Yes | No

You selected Yes! Reason for deletion?

[ ] No new matches

[ ] App is difficult to work with

[ ] Found another app to use

[ X ] I met someone

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #one shot #drabble #fluff #imagine

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mummybear · 1 year

Text

My Brother's Best Friend - Part Two - Too Much

Words: 4085

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Mention's Of Blood, Tiny Bit Of Smut, Multiple Heart To Heart, Protective Scott, Possessive Stiles, I think that's it! :)

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Reader/Sadie McCall, Lydia Martin, Liam Dunbar, Allison Argent, Melissa McCall.

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski and Reader

Summary: Tensions are running high when you discover more than you had ever imagined has happened over the past few months. What you do discover after all this time might only be the tip of the iceberg.

A/N: Hey guys, so this is part two! Thank you to everyone who has read/liked/commented on the first chapter I appreciate it more than you know! This chapter is a little more angsty than the last so I hope you enjoy it, had to bring in momma McCall for this one! Enjoy, and let me know what you think! :D

Chapter 2 - Too Much

The drive back home is silent, the air thick with tension. Almost like nobody dares to speak a word. Stiles flexes his fingers and they move further up your thigh. You have to fight your body's reaction to squirm against the onslaught, you want him closer and you want him to stop all at the same time. You bite your lip when his long fingers brush against the edge of your panties. Fighting every instinct currently battling it out in your psyche, you close your legs, trying to focus on the road ahead, rather than the insatiable man beside you.

Your eyes snap toward Stiles when you hear a deep and pleased rumble coming from him, as he buries his nose in your neck his lips slowly make their way up. Not stopping until his teeth are nibbling at your ear. You can taste the slight hint of blood on your tongue as you continue to bite back the whimper of want building in the back of your throat. Suddenly though, you lose control when his fingers brush against the dampened lace of your panties.

“Is that all for me? So fucking wet,” Stiles rasps his voice almost a growl, as his teeth drag across your ear lobe and another whimper leaves your now parted lips.

“Stiles. Stop, for fuck’s sake,” Scott growls, and you swear that you hear the creek of the steering wheel beneath his grip.

Stiles either doesn’t care what your brother has to say or he just simply doesn’t listen. The next thing you know his lips have dropped to your neck once again, and he’s sucking what you have to assume is going to be a mark into your neck. He releases the skin with a gentle nip of his teeth and he groans when his fingers push your panties to the side, no doubt happy to finally get to your bare skin. You suddenly forget where you are and who you’re with. You can’t explain it, but the next thing you know you’ve parted your thighs, and you’re rolling your hips to get closer to him.

“You want me to make it all better, beautiful?” he growls, dragging two long fingers through your slick.

“Please, Stiles. I need it,” you whimper as those fingers slowly but firmly circle your clit.

“So fuckin’ wet. All fucking mine.” He moans as your fingers wrap around his wrist and you push his hand closer to you. Letting out a shuddered moan when his fingers move to your opening.

“Right. That’s it, I’ve had enough.” Scott snaps, and Stiles pulls you against him right as Scott slams on the breaks.

Stiles grins at you as he slips his fingers between his lips, your gaze is glued to him as he sucks those fingers between his plump lips and moans in pleasure.

Suddenly the back door opens, and it’s almost ripped off of the hinges, you’re dragged from the car by Lydia, apparently you had made it home.

“Hey Lyd’s,” you grin at her dreamily, letting her tug you further away. Leaving just enough room for Scott to barge in.

“Hey Mini, hell of a night, huh?” She smiles, wrapping an arm around you, probably worried you still can’t stand up properly. In truth she’s not totally wrong.

You wince as Scott drags Stiles from the car and roughly slams him against the side of it.

Suddenly it's like you’re doused in reality, as your lust fades a little further into the background. Leaving it so that you’re able to focus once more on your surroundings. What you see leaves your mouth open in shock. Lydia takes your hand and gently squeezes it, while you both watch the scene unfold, but the shock of what you are watching leaves you unable to squeeze back.

Because it looks as if Stiles is fighting against Scott, and Scott doesn’t exactly appear to be finding it very easy to keep Stiles in place. You can’t see Stiles’ face, but you can see Scott’s red Alpha eyes reflected in the window of the car. The sudden roar that cuts through the air even has you scared. You haven’t heard your brother this angry in a long time, and even Lydia flinches beside me as instinctively pulls me closer, while the other wolves bow their heads in submission to their Alpha.

Your hold on Lydia’s hand would be painful for most people, luckily you know she can take it. Scott’s forehead presses against Stiles' as they seem to have a quiet conversation, so that nobody can hear. There’s a collective sigh of relief when Scott steps back and releases Stiles, leaving him to sag back against the car.

However, then the confusion is back for you. The humiliation of what you’d let Stiles do to you in front of everyone in that car, including your big brother, his best friend. You can feel the deep blush as it covers your body. You need to get out of here, you take Lydia by surprise when you yank your hand free from hers, slowly stepping back away from the scene and everyone involved. Almost as one everyone turns to look at you, and your heart hammers painfully in your chest. A tear rolls down your cheek, you just don’t understand, what the hell is going on?

In the right place at the right time, maybe you’d have gone there with Stiles, but not that fast, and certainly not the two places where things had happened tonight. It was almost as though you had no control of your actions, no control of your own body or mind.

“Sadie? Hey, it’s okay. This isn't your fault, none of it is. Just come inside, I think we should all talk.” Scott sounds so sincere, not one look of judgement on his face, he’s stepping closer slowly, like you’re a wounded animal that he’s scared will run if given the opportunity.

The tears are falling now, thick and fast, but you don’t dare to look anywhere that isn’t your brother. Too scared of what you might see on his friends' faces. There’s one direction in particular that you can’t even consider glancing in, because you’re terrified of the look of regret that will be on his face.

You continue to step back though, you need to be anywhere but here and quickly. Your heart is aching painfully, you don’t know what to do, your head hurts so much right now.

“Please, dont,” Scott practically begs, his big brown eyes meeting yours, but when he takes another step towards you, you do the only thing you can. You run.

You don’t even know where you’re going, unable to think straight or see very well in the dark you simply take off. Scott knows you well enough to know that if he follows you, you wouldn’t want to talk about anything right now. So all you hear as you run is your own heartbeat thundering in your ears and the wind whipping around you as you sprint faster than you have in years. You don’t stop until your legs and lungs are burning, only stopping to rest against the railing by the lake. Letting your head rest on your arms, sucking in air the best you can.

When you finally have your breathing under control, you stumble back into the bench behind you and sink into it with a thud. Tilting your head back, you look up at the stars, wishing that anything about tonight had made any sense.

Your lifelong crush had made out with you, in fact you’d even taken things to the next level. You can’t help but think that you should be happy. But so many things about tonight don’t make any sense, and you hate it. You need this night to make sense. You can’t forget the look of desperation on Stiles’ face when it had just been the two of you, even if he liked you a lot, that look, you just don’t understand it completely. You’d known him your entire life and he had never once looked at you that way. It was almost like he was terrified you’d turn him away, even more than you’d been that he would do the same to you. Then there’s that word he’d growled before he’d pounced on you. Mate. What the hell did that mean? Not to mention that purple glow his eyes had. Once you have chalked it up to a trick of the light or something, but you had seen it alot more than once.

Before you can drive yourself insane you hear the crunch of leaves behind you, and you jump up and spin around. But your anger very quickly deflates when you see the one person who always knows how to make everything better. “Mom? What are you doing out here?” you ask in an almost broken whisper. Trying to keep your voice even, though you know it’s pointless, she knows you too well. Not to mention that the person who had sent her here would’ve told her everything anyway.

“Baby, come on. You know better than to try that around me,” she smiles gently, pulling you into her arms as soon as she’s close enough.

You sag against her as she wraps you in her arms, burying your face into her shoulder and the tears come once again. She doesn’t even try to stop the tears, only holds you tighter, until they stop on their own.

When you’ve finally stopped shaking she leads you over to the bench, and you take a seat before she turns you around to face her.

“You want to talk about it, sweetheart?”

“I dunno if I can. I mean this isn’t exactly normal stuff. Even if it was and I wanted to talk, this is why I should have a friend to talk to, but since Callie. I just can’t,” you sniff, trying to block out memories of your best friend.

Callie had been killed last year, thankfully nothing to do with werewolves or the supernatural. Not that it would have made much difference, she was still gone. You missed her like crazy, she knew everything about you and your crazy mixed up family, it never scared her away, she was always there, no matter what was happening. Until that one night. It felt as though your heart had been ripped out when you’d received the news. It still does when you think about it for too long.

“Hmm, I guess you’re right. Though part of this is perfectly normal, honey. I know you’ve always had a soft spot for Stiles. I can just listen if you want? You can leave out anything you don’t want to tell me,” she smiles, nudging you gently with her shoulder when you look at her, your face unable to hide the shock that she knew.

“How did you..?”

“How did I know about Stiles?” she chuckles quietly, cupping your cheeks so that you meet her eyes.

“Because, not to be a cliche, but I am your mother.” she winks at that, making you smile, then she shrugs and wraps her arm around your shoulders, “and honestly, I think the only people who didn’t know were Scott and Stiles. Those boys, I swear they haven’t changed since they were kids.”

That fond smile on her face is one you can’t help but share, with a defeated sigh you meet your mothers eyes.

“I know you won’t tell me any details, but something’s going on right? I’m guessing you know Stiles has changed somehow? You just won’t tell me how, right? He has to tell me himself, or Scott?”

“We never could keep anything from you baby girl. Yes, a lot has changed, with Stiles, and otherwise. Honestly I wouldn’t even know where to begin explaining this. I mean… It’s big, I won’t lie. But I know you can handle this Sadie.”

You swallow the lump which has lodged in your throat as you stare down at your hands, “I’ll try. That’s all I can say, until I actually know what’s going on. Unfortunately I guess we can’t put this off forever.”

You stand and take your mom’s offered hand and the two of you make the short walk back to the house, albeit slowly, she knows you well enough to know that you need time to process everything still.

“If you need space then you tell me. I’ll make sure you damn well get it, Alpha or not, he’s my son and your brother. You know he will do whatever is best for you. If you want, we’ll make them wait until morning? It’s your call, sweetheart.”

“Pretty sure there’s only one thing I can do.”

You straighten your spine and take a deep breath, looking over at the woman on your right. She’s by far the strongest person you’d ever met, and likely ever would meet. You’re pretty sure that you already know what she would do in your position. Clenching your free hand into a fist, you turn to look at her. Melissa McCall could’ve become a victim so many times in her life but she’d never become one, and you intended to follow in her footsteps, no matter how difficult the situation, you wouldn’t let anyone break you.

As if she can read your mind she gives your hand a squeeze and smiles, “that’s my girl.”

When the two of you return home the house is deathly quiet, no sign whatsoever of anyone outside the house. Immediately your mind goes to the worst case scenario and judging by the slow steps your mom is taking, she’s thinking along the same lines.

The front door creaking open is the only sound in the house, and it sounds so much louder when it’s surrounded by the silence. “Maybe they just left?” you whisper hopefully, not even believing the words as you say them.

Almost as if by muscle memory, in the pitch black you wrap your fingers around the end of Stiles’ baseball bat, you’re a little surprised that it’s still here, when he doesn’t appear to be. But you’re not about to complain about having a weapon when you need one. As you move through the kitchen there’s the slight drip of the tap, a sound which seems to almost bounce off of the walls in the silence. You can even hear the sound of the wind whistling against the windows but nothing else.

The hand that’s wrapped around yours tightens further, as you’re pulled closer to your mom’s body. You take another step forward when a thought occurs to you, swallowing your fear you whisper once more.

“What about the basement? We sound proofed it, could they be down there and we’re worried over nothing?”

The moonlight almost seems to light the path as soon as your mom gives you a nod of agreement. The basement had been installed shortly after you’d all gotten Stiles back from the Nogitsune. It had come in handy more than a few times in the past. You feel your nerves escalating, the closer that you get to the basement, the worse your nerves become. You regretfully put the bat down by the door as you carefully turn the doorknob, wincing at the squeak you’re certain will follow. Fully aware that the basement had been sound proofed, and if they are down here, then you wouldn’t know until you open the final door at the bottom of the steps.

With all of that in mind you take the stairs slowly, carefully manoeuvring around the third step down, since that one has always squeaked rather obnoxiously.

Your entire body feels as if it’s shaking from adrenaline and nerves as you reach the bottom of the stairs, wiping your hands on your clothes, you then reach for the door handle. When suddenly the door opens. You stumble back in alarm, grabbing for the baseball bat, which you quickly hold above your head, quickly stepping in front of your mother.

However, you quickly lower the weapon, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when your eyes land on your rather dishevelled looking brother.

“Scott, what the hell is going on?” you ask urgently, hearing a deep growl coming from the room behind him, and the clang of chains is unmistakable.

Your brother gives you a pitying look as he chews nervously on his bottom lip, to your surprise he steps out of the room, gently taking you by the shoulders, he pushes you back into the hallway.

“We should really talk, Sadie. Just come upstairs. Mom could you maybe…” he nods his head towards the door behind him. With a smile she gives your hand a final squeeze, before she releases you. Quickly doing whatever it was he had asked of her, she seemed to know exactly what it was though.

“Come on, we should sit. I’ll even get your favourite ice cream out,” he grins at you, but you know your brother well enough to see that he’s nervous.

“Well, shit. This really must be serious, Scott McCall sharing with the pain in the ass little sister.” Your joke seems to fall on deaf ears as Scott simply sighs, he looks tired, like dead on his feet tired. You gently grab his arm as you both sit on the sofa with the tub of ice cream between you, “Hey, you’re okay, right? You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”

“I’m okay, mostly at least. I just really wish we didn’t need to have this conversation, especially not now, not like this, Sades. I don’t even know where to start.” Scott tells you quietly, dragging a hand over his face, the stubble along his jaw is almost becoming a beard at this point. Something so unlike your brother that you’re surprised you’re only just realising.

Seeing your overconfident brother so unsure is so unusual to you, he hasn’t been like this since before he’d become a werewolf. You could count on your hands the few times you’d seen him return to this unsure worried version of himself. Which only made you all the more nervous, but you didn’t want to push him to hurry up and explain. You’d let him take his time, because as much as you needed to know, he was your best friend and your protector. Seeing him like this hurt more than you could've ever imagined.

Moving the tub aside you lean your head on Scott’s shoulder, “Maybe you should get some rest, you look like shit big brother,” you laugh when he shoves you off of him with a grin.

You turn to face each other, pulling your legs under you, the way you used to when you were kids. When you were wanting to have one of your conversations, where Scott plays big brother and gives you his sage advice. Not that it was always good or right. Half the time it was stuff that you knew already, or stuff that you would never do. But you loved him for trying all the same.

Your father had left not long after you were born, and as young as Scott had been he’d stepped up for you. He was the one man you knew you could count on, no matter what, and that wasn’t going to change you were sure of it.

“You don’t need to look out for me, Mini, that’s my job, remember. I look out for you,” Scott smiles, gently nudging your shoulder.

“No, you're my brother, that was dad’s job. But I prefer you anyhow,” I smile at him, and lean into the sofa.

“So which is it? Bed or are we gonna do this now?”

Scott sighs and straightens in his seat, and just like the Alpha is back.

“Oh I wish I could, little sister, you have no idea how good a bed sounds right now. But we’re doing this now.”

“Okay, I’m listening. Tell me everything that I don’t know about, might as well get it out of the way.”

“You remember a few months back when I went to visit Stiles?” he asks you carefully, and you’re already shocked.

“This has been going on for months!? You’ve been lying and hiding this from me for months! I understand most of the time Scott, but dammit something that’s as important as this clearly is, you should’ve told me!” you almost shout, unable to hide or hold back your anger. Especially when it quite clearly seemed to concern you.

“Go on,” you sighed apologetically, realising there was no point in being angry about this, of course he hadn’t told you, yet another time he was trying to protect you no doubt.

“Sadie, if we had any idea any of this would end up involving you I would’ve told you the second everything happened.”

“It’s fine, Scott, I understand. But it isn’t just that this involves me but it’s clearly important.” Shaking your head you clear your throat, before looking back at him, doing your best to reign in your anger. “Anyway, yes I remember, you said something about Stiles needing help, but you never did tell me what he needed help with.” Your need to know more only grows the more he talks about Stiles, something is definitely off, and you’re worried some of your earlier thoughts may have been correct.

Nothing could have prepared you for your brother’s next words however.

Taking a deep breath Scott tells you the truth of that weekend away he’d had.

“Stiles had been struggling for months. He uh… he was starting to forget things, silly things at first, then he really started noticing it and he called me. He was too scared to go to the hospital, he didn’t want them to tell him what he already knew.” Scott lets out a shuddering sigh, wiping his hands on his jeans.

Your mind is begging him not to say what you already know is coming, “go on,” you whisper nervously, grabbing his hand when he reaches for you.

A tear drops from Scott’s eyes when he meets yours and you swallow thickly, “I...I convinced him to go to the hospital. Yanno, maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought. Part of me wishes he’d ignored me, but he needed to know. We needed to start planning. Unfortunately, the doctors only told us what he already knew. Fuck this is hard.” Scott moans quietly, wiping his eyes on his shirt sleeve. “Stiles had developed frontotemporal dementia. Just like his mother. It fucking broke him Sades, he tore out of that room so damn fast. I followed him, but he told me he needed time to process, just some time alone.” Scott’s voice is shaking so hard, and you feel like your heart just broke in half, but you know only by the look on your brother’s face that isn’t where the story ends.

Clearing your throat you squeeze his hand, “there’s more, isn’t there?” you ask tentatively, feeling the tears fall freely from your eyes.

“Fuck, do I wish there wasn’t,” he mutters, his laugh devoid of humour. A roar sounds from the basement, and then you hear a door slam. You look at your brother with wide eyes and he sighs sadly once more. “I shouldn’t have let him go alone. He was worried he was being followed during training by something, he didn’t know what yet and he didn’t tell me, not until that day in the hospital waiting room. I should have followed him, but he needed space.” Scott looks up and meets your eyes once more, “I was walking around the parking lot of the hospital when I heard him scream. Then I remembered his stories, and I didn’t even think, I just ran as fast as I could. But by the time I got to him, he was bleeding out on the floor, Sadie. He looked so bad, he was white as a damn ghost, could barely keep his eyes open, I lost it. My instincts… just kicked in.” Scott whispers the last bit as another tear rolls down his cheek.

Jumping to your feet you feel your breathing start to change, as you try to consider what else he could be about to say, but only one thing comes to mind.

“Don’t say it, Scotty, please.”

He gets to his feet and pulls you into his arms before you collapse, “I did it. I bit him.”

Tags:

@julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @lilulo-12fanfiction @charmed-asylum @defenderrosetyler @emilyshurley @foxyjwls007 @mylovelydame21 @akshi8278 @peaches007 @stylesismyhubs @peachyyybabyy @fantasy-myth1 @death-unbecomes-you @coffeebooksandfandom @magssteenkamp @screamxqueenx94 @brien-odylan @riseandshinelittleblossom @ceceliaking-18 @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @missindecision @deans-number-one-fan @onethirstyunicorn @amberboo329 @chewie-redbird

#my brother's best friend #scott and stiles #stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles x you #stiles stilinski x you #stiles teen wolf #teenwolf #chapter 2

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vindicated-truth · 2 months

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Hi @rootofallevil! I hope you don't mind if I answer both of your replies to my post here 🫶🏻 Because as always the reply section definitely won't be enough for all my rambling 😅

First, about Dongsik letting go of Joowon and allowing him to walk away—

I've been marinating over a specific thought in my head for a while now, and I think your comment is the perfect jump off point to address it.

In connection to how I've always been saying that Dongsik's strength lies in how he fiercely protects the people he loves, he does have tendencies to go overboard very similar to the way Do Haewon does (as I've addressed here), and that the only thing separating Dongsik from Haewon is that Dongsik never wants anyone else to be hurt by his actions, and always regrets it when he does; whereas Haewon doesn't care if the whole world burns as long as the person she loves is safe.

I think that part of that protectiveness inevitably morphs into possessiveness at times, which is sadly what the trauma of (multiple!!) losses did to Dongsik: he has to keep all his loved ones close, because he's terrified that he might lose them, too.

And I think one of the ways that manifested in a way he never expected to end up badly was the way his protectiveness became borderline possessive over Minjeong.

It's not the possessiveness by that of a jealous lover, but one that is, again, remarkably similar to Do Haewon: the possessiveness of a parent over their child with the belief that only they can keep them safe.

It manifested in the way he resorted to tracking Minjeong down using illegal means, and then traveling all the way to Seoul just to bring Minjeong back. The intention to protect her is apparent, and again, it stems from Dongsik's terrible fear of losing the people he loves; however, Dongsik didn't even stop to think that maybe, just maybe, there's a reason Minjeong is deliberately choosing to stay away from home—that there's a very specific reason she's avoiding her own father.

Dongsik, unbeknownst to him, brought Minjeong back to her would be killer—the one she was trying to escape from in the first place.

Bear in mind too that Minjeong is already an adult by this point, and capable of making her own decisions, but in this specific instance it's as if she was infantilized by Dongsik. Again, all with good intentions of a loving and doting father, but already with the shades of possessiveness incredibly similar to Haewon's infantilization of Jeongje—who was already 40 years old.

The reason why I'm bringing this up is I think that through the course of the story, Dongsik has come to realize this too, about himself, especially after everything he's come to discover about Haewon and Jeongje too: that perhaps he is seeing shades of that overbearing love apparent in himself, too.

And that, I think, is why he is making the choice—whether subconsciously or deliberately—to not make the same mistake when it comes to Joowon.

He is trying his best now for his love for Joowon to be selfless, and more than anything: to be hinged on absolute trust in Joowon (as I've mentioned here, too).

To be someone that Joowon never had before: someone completely believing in him, and believing him.

And as for your other question, regarding the reunion at Manyang and whether Joowon would be coming back—

The thing is, I actually believe both Dongsik and Joowon made the best decision to go separately on their own ways first, just because I think they were both starting to realize that even in such a short period of time, their relationship with each other has gotten so immensely intense that there are shades of codependency already—which is unhealthy in any relationship.

I think at this point it's important for them to establish their individuality and their individual purpose now that Dongsik and Joowon are now finally freed from the shadow of Lee Yuyeon and Han Kihwan respectively. In many ways, this is finally the chapter of the true beginning of their lives: for Dongsik to discover who he is without the shadow of his sister's death looming over him, and for Joowon to discover who he is without the shadow of his father tormenting his every step.

This is the chapter of their lives where they're finally free to be who they really are, and to finally freely live, without all of these shackles holding them back.

And I think that once they complete that journey of finding themselves, they can come back to each other as a completely whole person in themselves, without necessarily needing the other to "fulfill" their needs.

I think that this is the only way they can ever truly make each other happy, and be truly happy by each other's side. ❤️

#beyond evil #jwds #lee dongsik #han joowon #괴물 #주원동식 #이동식 #한주원 #kang minjeong #do haewon #rootofallevil

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cyndaquillt · 4 months

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Ok I feel like writing a long essay on Indian elections so I'm gonna do just that. Full disclaimer though, I'm just airing my thoughts out and I'm just as much of the general public as anyone else. In other words, I'm not a social scientist. While I welcome healthy discussion, if I don't find the strength in me to answer to a certain reply, I simply won't and I hope you understand and forgive me.

With that out of the way, I'm coming out of my optimism bubble to take a stock of things. At this point (6:19 am IST), the counting has been done. It's apparent that BJP did not win the clear majority they were hoping for. In fact, they could only get about ~36% of the total votes, which means majority of seats in the Lok Sabha belong to parties that are not in the BJP. This is a huge deal, despite it being apparent that NDA WILL make the government and by extension, Modi may get elected for PM for a third term.

However, there's the matter of how tightly knit the NDA itself is. At this point NDA holds 292 seats. If JD(U) and TDP (i.e. Nitish and Chandrababu Naidu) flip, NDA loses 16+12 seats leaving them at 264 seats, i.e. below the 272 mark. If only JD(U) flips, they are at 280 and a majority and if only TDP flips, they are at 276, still a majority (See ECI's website for seat tally by party). While all hinges on what Nitish gets offered today and what conversations Chandrababu Naidu has in Delhi today, neither have given conclusive statements towards their intent, and on the contrary, TDP seems to be leaning towards staying in the NDA. For the current government to truly fall, BOTH TDP and JD(U) will have to fall out of the NDA, which is a very optimistic outcome and seems unlikely.

Let's consider both outcomes actually, I wanna do a thought experiment for myself to see how things would turn out if NDA forms the govt vs if INDIA forms the govt.

Option 1 : NDA holds the majority and forms the govt

Very likely Modi will come back for a third term but now there's a sizeable opposition majority in the Lok Sabha. And if systems work the way they should, this should at the very least provide some friction to motions BJP has had ease with passing in the past decade.

Certain ministries will probably be given to non-BJP members. As someone from Bihar I know for a FACT that Nitish is going to push for Something Big. I'm not going to make any conclusive statements about Nitish or Chandrababu Naidu or idk, Chirag Paswan taking up a ministry, but that is a possibility, for better or worse.

Depending on whoever takes up whatever ministry, if the core of the polities remain what the current BJP govt has executed, not much may change. Privatization of telecom services leading to death of BSNL and MTNL to death of Doordarshan/rise of sold out and censored media to increasing gas subsidy to tanking the value of the Indian Rupee, or literally any aspect of daily life that the current government made us used to like slow boiling frogs, may just remain the same or change veeery slowly. Since BJP is at the core of the NDA and still has a sizeable presence, this remains the most apparent possibility.

I do think the divisive, supremacist politics might deescalate. Not because BJP or NDA are going to be soooo nice all of a sudden, but because this election has shown that it clearly doesn't work. Eg: Manipur used to be a BJP stronghold. From 2007 to 2015, I have been in close contact with Manipuri friends who really believed BJP had potential to do great things for Manipur. And yet here we are. They instigated communities that were coexisting for ages to fight, left a trail of blood, ruined people's lives, and even lost the state. Also bringing Manipur in as an example because what happened in Ayodhya is already a national joke at this point. Modi almost lost Varanasi. If there's any lesson to take away from these experiences, it's to cut back on divisive politics.

Option 2 : INDIA forms the govt

I'm actually not sure who the PM would be. Rahul? Akhilesh? I actually don't like the alternative of Akhilesh being a PM tbh. His failure to understand the needs of the people in 2010s is what paved the way for Yogi Adityanath to win UP. Not that Yogi did a great job and solved everything, but BJP's whole pitch in 2014 was that they were coming in as 'underdogs' to throw out dynastic politics like the kind SP or INC play. Which of course, is a fucking joke seeing that Chirag Paswan or Pradyot Manikya Deb Barma (a literal prince!) are in the NDA this time, but I digress. I was in Varanasi at the time when Akhilesh was the CM of UP and he was pandering at best! I vaguely remember the biggest news was him giving laptops for free to girls who graduate from the state board but that was all! He was passive and BJP+Yogi took advantage of that! Rahul poses a similar issue, but I am overall just worried about whoever ends up as the PM, would perhaps be more of a figurehead than holding together a strong opposition, and that would mean an NDA/BJP opposition would eat them up for breakfast.

When you speak with people who are in denial of media being sold, their counterargument is almost always 'there were so many scams on the news before 2014! Now there are none!' Well, yeah, cause news media is a literal joke now. But they aren't wrong about the scams either! The thing is, there is next to no politician in the current political landscape who isn't a slave to power. Corruption won't go away. Scams won't go away. But will the media actually report them when people in power are involved in it? I'm actually not sure anymore......

Which also makes me think of how much will things actually change? And who will change them? Listen, I grew up in 90s and 2000s Bihar under the Lalu regime as a minority middle class with two state govt office workers for parents. 'Don't trust anyone in power' is in my DNA. I have also seen Nitish flip the landscape of Bihar and bring in resources we'd never even imagined. But core problems still stay. From casteism to corruption to infrastructure issues to brain drain, all issues remain. Simply using Bihar as a toy model, I lose hope of any rapid progress even under a drastic change of leadership. While it would be certain that this government would be Left-Center, I would be highly skeptical of whether or not they'll scrape all right wing policies. Not to mention Amrit Pal won?? Shiv Sena is in power??? Yeah it's a much more complicated and treacherous path up ahead, even if this option may be the most optimistic alternative.

This election was an important one. Preceeding this were whole movements (eg : farmers protests, CAA/NRC protests, etc), a pandemic that brought forth gaping holes in the health infrastructure, agitations that shook entire regions, and that's only scraping the top of the public outcry against the current government. In a democracy, riots, protests, movements are as much a voice of the people as votes and clearly these manifested as votes in this election. While this election day was extremely entertaining and the memes are fun, I do want to remind myself and others that communalism, casteism, regionalism, religious bigotry, corruption, and partisanship aren't simply going away. It will take work to undo things and even more work to right the wrongs that have been around since wayyy before 2014. But I do hope this is the beginning of something positive 🤞🤞

#long post #thoughts #indian elections

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utilitycaster · 11 months

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@villadiodatis replied to your post “I know it's Nein lockdown but in practice for me...”:

I’ve been really hostile to the daggerheart c4 idea because it’s mostly come from the same people who fearmonger about how “c3’s got the lowest viewing numbers ever” but the magic shifting thing does make me wonder—it could also be a justification for the changes in 5e 2024, and my prediction remains 5e c4 with a daggerheart campaign in the current candela slot with some of the new regular guests, but we’ll see!

Moving this out of the replies because this is a very valid point. To be honest a lot of the Daggerheart C4 people of that nature have apparently stopped believing it because somehow it hinged on the gods definitely being killed off (as opposed to the current state where it's been made pretty clear Bells Hells gets to decide what happens and it is not a foregone conclusion) and also it being a d20 system specifically (no idea why) but yeah. I will say: I don't see any specific reason to switch to 5e's changes/OneD&D. I mean, they could if they want to, but people played D&D 3.5e throughout the entire existence of D&D 4e; there are still people out there who stick with AD&D. A lot of the people claiming C3 has lower viewership than ever also kind of hated Campaign 2 and really have hated everything since Campaign 1. Right now they're blaming D&D but earlier they blamed the switch to pre-taping or the "meandering plot" and like, in the end, I'm pretty sure a lot of them were ultimately just fans of Vox Machina and of the cast being more accessible to a small fandom and they will never be happy with Critical Role again.

I will freely admit: I do not know if a campaign 4 is guaranteed to happen at all. It's a massive commitment and it's not out of the question that after this campaign Critical Role won't shift into EXU and various miniseries alone. During Campaign 2, Campaign 3 wasn't a guarantee either. But if there is another long-form campaign in the channel's immediate future, I feel like Daggerheart makes it more likely, and to be honest I think what you mentioned seems really unlikely:

A smart way to avoid the loss of audience when switching out of D&D (the recognizable brand) is to keep all the other things the same. Keep the setting of Exandria; keep the main cast; hope that people will stick around for Matt's GM-ing and the main cast and the world even if the mechanics change. There's plenty of reasons why I think Candela has a lower viewership including that horror is a totally different genre and a harder sell, but I also can't help but think that some people are specifically not checking it out because their favorite cast member or favorite cast dynamic isn't present.

Daggerheart is explicitly intended to support long-form play with level progressions, and I think they'd want to showcase that. Running two long-form games concurrently on the channel is really tough to the point that if they did both a 5e/OneD&D campaign and a Daggerheart Campaign, I think they'd probably have to have none of the original cast members in that as main PCs simply for reasons of time commitments and would definitely lose viewers if they did that. Candela is arc-based and can be presented sufficiently in 3-episode chapters in a way that I think Daggerheart cannot.

Again: fully speculative; but if I were say, in Marisha's shoes, and the cast had decided to do another long-form campaign after C3 I'd go with Daggerheart, still using D&D 5e for any EXU games set in the past, and keep Candela as a mini-series on the off weeks.

#villadiodatis #cr tag

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feeling-pushy · 2 months

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Like a Freight Train

Wrote a new little story for my Creature Apocolype! I'll post the story here, but I have already posted it on my Ao3 if people want to look at it over there as well! Here's a link to that --- > Ao3 I hope you guys like it~!

How had the situation unfolded so disastrously? Montanha thought as Rosie, Asher, and himself ran through the city street, boots crunching the soft, fluffy snow as they were pursued by the four large and imposing Creatures that seemed quite persistent despite the cold slowing their movements. It had been almost five years since the world ended, and the three of them thought they understood the habits of these Creatures’ by then, in all their travels together. But apparently, the Creatures still had tricks up their sleeves.

Rosie tried her best to load her bow, but it was hard to do while in motion. Asher was fortunately not as burdened as he lifted his rifle, fired, slid the handguard backward and forward, and fired again. However, he was still inefficient as he could only really aim for the largest parts of the Creatures while in motion. A head shot would have required him to stop, and they couldn't stop right now.

"Why the fuck are there four of them?!?" Rosie shouted, pulling out another arrow, her eyes wide in horror and confusion. Asher fired again, this time managing to hit a Creature square in the eyes. It dropped, lifeless. "They must’ve been stalking us!"

Montanha cursed, regretting his choice of bringing a blunt weapon that day. With only his axe, he couldn’t do anything while in motion. But he knew they couldn’t keep running; they were going to get tired soon. Montanha already felt the burning in both his lungs and his legs. They needed to strategize. “We can't take them all head-on!’ Montanha shouted, ‘We need to split up and outmaneuver them."

"I'll lead some of them away. You two head for that big library we saw earlier!" Asher said, agreeing with Montanha’s plan. Rosie, however, was not a fan of the idea. "No, we stick together!" she insisted.

"I'll be fine.’ Asher said, determination in his eyes, ‘Just go." Before she could protest further, Asher made a hard right and bolted down a side street. Two Creatures immediately split and were hot on his heels. Rosie and Montanha exchanged a brief look before dashing toward the nearby library, the remaining Creature pursuing them.

Bursting through the doors, Rosie and Montanha entered the abandoned library, slamming the doors behind them. They barricaded it with a heavy bookshelf, but the Creature pounded against it relentlessly. "This won't hold them for long," Montanha huffed out, trying to catch his breath. "We need to get to the roof. Maybe there might be something we can use up there."

Rosie nodded grimly. "Ok, let’s go." They hurried up the stairs, the Creature's pounding growing louder. As they reached the rooftop, Montanha's eyes fell on a large, rusted water tank balanced precariously on the edge. "That tank.’ Montanha said, pointing, ‘If we can push it over, it might take it out."

Rosie and Montanha positioned themselves behind the tank. With a nod, the two began to push against the water tank. It creaked and groaned, but eventually, the old rusty hinges gave in. Using all their strength, they pushed it toward the edge. With one final shove, the tank teetered, then toppled over the side, crashing down onto the street below and on top of the Creature with a thunderous impact.

It must have heard it coming, as the Creature moved to avoid it, barely dodging, losing its arm as it shrieked. The grey, viscoelastic fluid, that made up its insides quickly rushing out of the wound. The Creature's focus was now on its wound as it covered it with its remaining clawed hand. As it pressed against the wound, the grey ichor started to thicken and solidify, closing the hole in its socket.

Seizing the opportunity, Rosie grabbed an arrow from her holder, drew back on her string, and with deadly accuracy, let it fly. The arrow pierced the Creature’s head, and the thing collapsed. "We got them!" Rosie yelled, a look of relief flooding her features. Montanha nodded, looking equally relieved, "Nice shot." The two of them exchanged a high-five as they stood up on that rooftop and caught their breath.

Once they were able to recompose themselves, Montanha went a bit pale and looked at Rosie, "We need to find Asher and get out of here.”

. . .

Asher weaved through the narrow alleys, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He glanced back, seeing the Creatures’ gaining on him. His lungs were burning, and his legs ached as he kept going. He just had to lose them, then he could hopefully regroup with the others. It wasn’t the best plan, but it was the only one he had at the moment.

Luck was not on his side, however, as he found himself at the dead end of an alley, stopping him in his tracks. “Frack a cat!” Asher exclaimed. They had cornered him. Turning, he saw the two Creatures start to slowly approach, the mouths of their human faces stretched as far as they could go, just on the verge of tearing. One had sharp, refined teeth, while the other's jaw seemed to be composed entirely of broken femurs and humeri, jutting out of its mouth in fractured pieces with jagged edges.

Asher aimed his gun and shot at one, but his arms felt like jelly from the run and the terror he felt as they stalked, ever so slowly, towards him. The shot went wide, only grazing its cheek and making it stumble back, but the other was still closing in, undeterred, looking at him with a cold, empty expression. It swiped at him, snagging Asher’s jacket, cutting through the material, and slicing his flesh. Asher was forced to back up more into the corner. He stumbled a bit, falling on his butt, before he lifted his gun and took aim at the one that had just struck him.

He fired, hitting this one in the jaw and making it back off as well, only to have the first encroach on him again. Asher aimed again, but this time he heard the hollow clicks of his now-empty gun. He cursed, searching through his jacket pockets. Empty. Figures. He tucked the gun away, sliding it over his shoulder before he pulled out his large hunting knife. "Come on, you freaks," he muttered, gripping his knife tighter.

As soon as he says this, an arrow whizzed through the air and embedded itself in the back of one Creature's head, the Creature dropping instantly. Lifeless. Asher’s eyes widen in surprise. He looks back down the alley and see’s Rosie standing there, bow in hand, “Nice shot, Rosie!” he shouted, grinning.

Rosie smiles, but then her eyes widen in horror, “Watch out!” The remaining Creature lunged at Asher with a piercing scream. But before it could reach him, Montanha charged in from the side, fist drawn back. Then, like a freight train, Montanha punches it and sends the Creature sprawling to the ground. The impact was so forceful that the Creature's form convulsed, struggling to regain its balance as it dragged itself back on its feet.

Its efforts to regain its footing were cut short with a resounding thud as Montanha swung his axe down directly on its head. He split it right down the middle of its cranium, the thing’s body jerking violently and involuntarily before it suddenly stopped altogether, going limp under his axe. Only once it had fully gone limp and stayed that way did Montanha finally withdraw his axe, having to yank on it a bit as he had embedded it quite deeply.

Montanha turned to look at Asher, “Thought you could use a hand.” he said, grinning at Asher, his face covered in speckles of grey, semi-metallic, liquid. Asher sat on the ground speechless for just a moment, mouth agape as a dusting of a blush crossed his cheeks, “Y-yeah. Thanks Montanha.” He stammered after a moment as he smiled up at him.

Montanha then looked him over with concern, “are you alright?” he asks softly as he was helped up, Asher couldn’t help but notice how easy it was for Montanha to lift him up, and he stumbled a bit, hands falling onto the taller man’s chest as he steadied himself. Asher found himself at eye level of Montanha’s broad and strong chest, and did his best not to stare as he quickly pulled himself away, “Yeah I'm fine, just got slashed in the arm good.”

“Let me see,” Montanha said as he gently took Asher's arm, gingerly rolling it over in his hands as he examined him. He was very gentle with his touch, which felt like a stark contrast to the sheer power Asher had just seen displayed only moments ago. Asher's breath hitched softly as he felt this contrast, and the blush spread further on his face. “It stings, but it's not agony.”

“Ok.” Montanha then shrugged off his backpack quickly and dug through it. He found a clean cloth and then, with much care, he wrapped it around the wound, tightening it to slow some of the bleeding. “We'll get this properly wrapped up with the bandages at camp later, but this should do for now, hopefully.” Montanha assured him, giving Asher another small smile.

Asher's heart seemed to skip several beats as he looked into those gorgeous chocolate-brown eyes before smiling back. “Thanks, Montanha. Maybe if I'm lucky, it'll be a cool scar to tell my kids about someday.” Montanha let out a short laugh. “Ha, yeah. Maybe one day if this apocalypse bullshit ever blows over.”

Rosie, running up to join the two of them, patted Asher on the back. "Glad we could find you. Thank God for snow and its ability to leave footprints! Now, let's get the hell out of here before more show up."

The two men nodded in agreement, and the three of them then made their way back through the snow-covered streets. As they walked, Rosie glanced at Asher. "Next time, we bring more ammo."

#my ocs #Montanha #Asher #Rosie #Creatures #apocalypse #alien apocalypse #tw guns #tw shooting #writing #my writing #FP writings #fanfiction

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noxxha · 2 years

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Madara’s Issues - a combination of nature and nurture

My elaborate answer to this particular anon ask.

It is no secret that Madara suffers from issues. The most obvious is probably his trust issues, but the other thing is him having a psychological complex as well, and how could he not have one when the environment he grew up in is the way it is?

How could he develop a healthy sense of self when his entire reality hinged upon survival, and - more importantly and even tragically - the survival of his loved ones.

I think it’s pretty straightforward to read an inferiority complex between the lines that, as Madara became older (and more unhinged), became a superiority complex (mixed with a god complex even) to compensate for his every perceived failure and mistake(s).

Or why would Madara want to create a world “of only victors” (besides love and peace) if he did not perceive himself as having been someone who “lost”?

It would also surprise me if anyone in that situation (and I just mean the environment itself, the tension, the conflicts, the wars) would be able to grow up with their trust intact. It’s impossible in all honesty. Of course he had (severe) trust issues, and it is best illustrated in his inability to even pee the moment someone stood behind him. (The same scene in the anime had him relax for a second, breathe a sigh in relief, before becoming incredibly tense at Hashirama standing behind him)

That’s actually tragic.

And now we return to his inferiority complex. The thing is, it did not simply appear out of thin air, it had to come from somewhere. And I suspect that it would - realistically - come from a combination of the following; Tajima (who instilled a “power is everything” philosophy…at least if the below scan is any indication. Madara and Hashirama had to gain their worldview from someone, no? And their fathers are the most logical ones…considering they lead by example, literally even)

In german the meaning is pretty much the same. The most interesting change is the fact that Hashirama’s statement about “lasting change” is changed into a question. It is probably the same in the official english release as well, but I cannot say for certain.

It is the “no one will follow a weakling” that probably is the philosophy Tajima drilled into the heads of his remaining sons, that they need to be strong so people will follow them. But are we talking about physical strength or emotional? Or even a combination of both?

The next thing would probably be Madara’s status as heir apparent, that in some shape or form he shouldered a heavy burden of being the son of the clan head. Then the fact that he was the eldest brother of five (and in many cultures, perhaps even all, the eldest child in the family has the responsibility to be a good “role model” to their siblings) which means that he was expected to care for his siblings.

Last but not least, we have Madara’s personality itself. The probably greatest contributor to his inferiority complex even taking root.

The most defining traits of Madara’s personality (surprising as they may seem): his sensitivity and his capacity to feel emotions deeply.

He felt emotions deeply, and he was someone who loved and adored his siblings, while valuing his family highly.

He saw it not so much as a burden, and probably more like his purpose, to keep his loved ones safe.

And there is a particular scene that confirms just how essential family was to Madara.

While his ultimatum can be seen as the complete opposite of someone being compassionate, he is still kind at his core (or would he have gone back on his word and stopped Hashirama’s foolishness otherwise?).

In that moment in time he simply lashed out in grief and in pain.

Too wounded emotionally to do anything but lash out in the way that would “ease” the pain the most. The only way someone could understand the pain he was in from losing Izuna.

“I have nothing left to protect.” Is the sentence that follows thereafter.

He needed something to protect, without such he probably saw himself having little value. Mind you, the above is coming from one of the greatest warriors in their generation - one of the strongest to have ever graced their world - and yet…as much as power meant to him, as much as he enjoyed battling someone capable and strong…it could scarcely replace that first and foremost Madara loved his family. He became strong for their sake. He fought for their sake. He wanted peace for their sake (and his own).

And in the above scene he is completely beaten down, has lost the will to live even. Accepting death and that it would be an honour dying by Hashirama’s hand (or, “if it’s you I can go in peace”).

Power was only the means to an end for Madara. The way to achieve his ambitions. The centre of his world was his loved ones.

Even his desire for peace was intimately linked with his sole surviving brother, Izuna - who was the one thing he could - and would - protect from any harm.

He probably swore to protect each and everyone of his siblings, until he was only left with Izuna in the end. Making a promise like that as a child and not being able to keep it, had to hurt.

He appears quite young in the flashback of Hashirama’s, perhaps 10 - 14 at most.

That is a lot of pain to bear. That is a lot of blame to wrongfully attribute to himself (which he is implied to do). While not plainly stated, Madara probably was very critical of himself - spoke harshly about himself and blamed himself for deaths that were out of his control (perhaps he was in a similar situation as Hashirama when he raced to save Itama? Madara most likely had something similar happen to him where he was too late to save a life that perhaps would have still been alive had he just been better - as stated by himself)

That is…heartbreaking honestly. If he was “better”, that is worse than saying “if only I was stronger/faster”

He is attacking himself - not blaming the death of his loved ones on his abilities per se.

To speak that low of himself…

This (the death of his other three siblings at this point in time) is probably where his inferiority complex began in earnest in all honesty.

While he was a prodigy - having killed capable adults when a mere child - and was rightfully proud of his talent and accomplishments on one hand, a part of him probably still saw the need to boast about his strength - so to feel better about himself because he could not protect what mattered.

“Sometimes, people with an inferiority complex show signs of being overconfident or narcissistic, but this isn’t really the case. Instead, it’s a way of masking an overwhelming feeling of being inadequate. These symptoms may include:

Being highly competitive

Being a perfectionist or sensitive to criticism

Finding faults in others

Seeking attention

Having trouble admitting mistakes

Individuals with inferiority complex usually have experienced events during their childhood that fuel their symptoms. One isolated episode typically isn’t enough to trigger a long-term disorder.” (source)

Madara has showcased each of these traits, no? “Seeking attention” may be up for debate, but the rest have been shown throughout Hashirama’s memory.

I can imagine that having Izuna’s admiration helped Madara immensely on one hand, on the other hand it would be a certain Senju that would challenge Madara’s ego tremendously…

Madara is a very competitive soul. And you can see his sensitivity to “criticism” here as well. It obviously chafes at him not mastering something so “simple” as skipping a mere rock across a river…

Throughout Hashirama’s memory we see that - in a way - Madara was always “inferior” to Hashirama. Well, maybe outside of him suggesting that his eyesight is better than Hashirama’s (nearly giving away from which clan he hails in the process).

Yet - while he might have been weaker in physical strength - Madara showed tremendous emotional strength. During the river confrontation Madara appeared much more collected than Hashirama at the beginning - only giving in to genuine wrath (and distress the moment Izuna willingly put himself in harm’s way when confronting Tobirama and Butsuma together with Tajima) when Izuna could have died in front of his eyes.

He also showcases a strong sense of loyalty to his loved ones (which differs a touch from Hashirama’s loyalty in all honesty).

For all his flaws in prioritizing Izuna - and then their clan - Madara is honest about it (even when it has severe repercussions in hindsight).

Madara’s trust issues probably had everything to do with his siblings and maybe comrades. Anything could have happened: from kidnappings to more literal scenarios (turning his back to a believed dead enemy and one of his brothers protected him from death). But his trust issues could also be there because of Madara just not trusting himself (his abilities and leadership) and this uncertainty of his spilled out to encompass the rest of the clan: showing itself by Madara hating having people behind him. Having to trust them. Having to depend on them while they have to depend on him. Being a leader (especially the type of leader Madara was) had to be suffocating for him due to his trust issues (that were severe, as much as it is played for laughs and “neurosis”)

Hashirama does not appear as if his leadership is questioned the same way Madara is doubted (after the scene where he flees with Izuna, leaving his people to fend for themselves).

While never regretting prioritizing Izuna, he probably realized in hindsight that he should have done something differently. He did the right thing by listening to Izuna, but he could perhaps have taken a different action (ordered a retreat for example…but he was in distress and did not think clearly at the time).

In his old age Madara appears tired and melancholic. And bitter, the type of bitterness that comes from having been disappointed time and time again.

The sadness…that is the gaze of someone remembering a lifetime of failures and regrets.

The reason he created his Moon of the Eye plan (Mugen Tsukuyomi) was partly out of the feelings he felt above, but also because the world - mankind - is the way it is.

To reality Madara lost first his three siblings. Then his father. Then Izuna perished - and then Hashirama ended up disappointing him, before completely horrifying him, the moment he literally “backstabbed” him for a village that would end up becoming shrouded in “darkness”.

No matter if you feel Madara’s extreme idea of peace is “peace” or not - at its core he wanted to spare the world of experiencing the loss of losing what you hold dear, spare people the disappointments of reality and create a world only full of love and peace (and victors), because he had to lose everything for a world that ended up remaining the same even after Konoha was built.

#madara uchiha #izuna uchiha #uchiha tajima #elaboration from an ask #naruto analysis #thoughts #long

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sand-lily · 5 months

Text

I JUST GOT MY CoE!!!

(like just now now)

they still didn't tell me when my training date is, where my hotel is, when i can check in to the hotel, or APPARENTLY how long I'll be staying

(my contract says 1 year, but the CoE says 3years,, so idk what to put on the application , if they dont answer by Friday I'll just put 3years, then i wont get in trouble if i do renew the contract but it wont be an issue if i only stay 1 year)

im NOT buying another hotel if i can help it, SO i do wanna know when i can check into the training hotel so i can buy my plane ticket for that day and put that as the arrival date on the application, according to maps and reddit the shinkansen is only a few hours to the city i need to be in from the airport, so im taking that instead of doing a layover in japan,,

so i need to know WHEN i can check in so i can do the math to know WHAT flight to take, and since im technically losing a day across time zones, thats going to be hard for me since normal time math is ALREADY hard for me

i already have the passport photos, i already have the envelopes, i already made the shipping labels (just gotta print them), i already signed the disclaimer (gotta print), I already filled out the application minus those 2 things im not sure about (and gotta print),,

so my plan is to go to the library and print all the stuff at once, and sign it at the library, then go from there to the post office to drop it off, and then from there back home (shit has to be planned when you don't have a car and public transit only comes once every 2hrs)

the CoE is valid for 3 months from tonight, so im HOPING they want me there the last week of june or mid july so i can pack up my apartment, call my bank, get an esim card for my phone company (this is the only phone number I had my WHOLE LIFE and I don't wanna lose it so i MIGHT pay for international data to keep it), take care of my pets, break my lease unfortunately, get a transit card (apparently you can buy them online BEFORE going to Japan and have it shipped to you),

and quit my new job i JUST started last week unfortunately,, ive only done training so i dont even think i can put it on my resume, HOWEVER, i did pass CPR + baby CPR so i can put that on my resume if they have the certificate on file (idk if they filed it yet)...but if i have another month, I'll be able to have childcare IN A SCHOOL experience (asst teaching)

ig i WONT be able to save up to pay off my credit card, or get my hair braided, and i WONT be able to afford business class like i wanted,, i just hope i get a window seat, i WILL NOT sit in the middle if i can avoid it, i also dont want an isle seat just in case i sit next to somebody who doesn't speak English and they feel nervous about asking me to move so they can use the toilet... i really dont wanna talk to ppl like that

i also also need to look for headphones with a type c connector, because i heard those exist,, my Bluetooth headphones dont work very well on airplanes and i MISS wired headphones severely (i WILL NOT take them out of the box until im at the airport tho, i WILL NOT risk losing them before the flight, as i tend to do)

i also also also need to go through my music library and delete the songs i always skip and add in the new ones ive been playing on repeat via YouTube, im NOT paying for plane wifi , i also x3 need to figure out how to download Libby books like PDFs since i cant use libby outside of America and i want to keep reading books on the flight

ig im un-makeovering my apt tomorrow, time to put doors back on hinges and remove contact paper and fill in nail holes and everything,, it took me like 3days to do everything up and i did it with a butter knife instead of a screwdriver, so it should take less time to undo it with my new electric screwdriver ,, i think my sister is going to try and steal my bedframe, shes already laid dibs on the couch

they BETTER NOT charge me ANY fees considering i paid a TRIPLE deposit to move in here without a cosigner and thats the whole point of a deposit

anyways i got a lot to do tomorrow, so i gotta go to bed at a REASONABLE HOUR, NOT 2AM

and if anybody wants to help me pay off my $1400 credit card bill (ive been using it to pay rent and buy groceries since nobody wants to hire me, unemployment is only enough to pay the minimum + my phone bill so i dont get late fees)

here are my PayPal and cashapp,, im not good at art AT ALL, but if yall want commissions for something so that i can earn the money (i can only do traditional art), I'll do that too,, or i can proofread something? creative writing is actually my forte believe it or not

anyways

cashapp: https://cash.app/$firellily

(the pfp is a pic of my cat)

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angelasscribbles · 1 year

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Hii 🥰

Would your MC(s) / OC(s) ever play a game of who knows who better? And if so what would be the questions / answers?

And who would know who better?

Forgive the lateness of my response lol. I made a mood board and everything! Though I have written others, these are my primary characters who end up with each other in a variety of combinations depending on the series.

I’m not sure if any of my characters would ever play this game but that's okay, I’m going to answer for them.....

Bad Romance Riley x Liam

Riley knows him best, we see this time and again with little things like telling him to go take a shower when he’s stressed (because she knows it will calm him), for making him his favorite drink when he’s having a meltdown, etc.

Liam’s complete lack of understanding how she works was the root of a lot of their issues early on, but eventually he got it right.

Bad Romance Max x Liam

Max, he just seems to be the wind beneath everyone’s wings in this one.

Bad Romance Riley x Max

Max. When she was asking what the fuck was wrong with her for having feelings for multiple people, he explained polyamory to her.

Bad Romance Riley x Rashad

I think we have a tie! They are sympatico on every level. They’d make a great couple expect neither of them wants/needs a commitment from the other. Just another area where they are in perfect synch.

Bad Romance Drake x Riley

Hmmmm…. I really don’t know. They were so volatile and combustible early on that I’d have to say they were equally clueless, but I might have to give this one to Riley. She pretty much has his number by Bad Romance Continues but despite being attuned to her moods, her unpredictability still keeps him on his toes both romantically and professionally.

The Agreement Riley x Liam

Riley, end of story. Liam was a clueless idiot in the beginning. He did finally get it right but not before his behavior pushed her away from him and into Drake’s arms.

The Agreement Riley x Drake

Drake, no contest. He watched what Liam put her through, was there for her and just supported her like a boss.

Heir Apparent Riley x Drake

I think they are both still learning, having gotten married less than a year after meeting and after only a few weeks of actual dating. Bad decision probably, but I followed the canon timeline here.

Heir Apparent Riley x Liam

While no longer a couple, they will be coparenting for a long damn time. Riley knows Liam better, she saw and understood how his obligations to the crown had and would continue to come between them. Liam is slowly starting to understand what she needed from him and that he really isn’t able to give it.

Savage Love Riley x Liam

Ah, finally here’s a series where Liam knows Riley better than she knows him and I’d go so far as to say better than she knows herself. He sees through her gruff exterior. He understands that her “I don’t get attached” philosophy is really a “I must protect my heart” philosophy.

Savage Love Riley x Drake

I think this one goes to Riley, marginally. He’s still taking her at her word about the not getting attached thing and losing his mind watching Liam get away with stepping across those boundaries she says she wants. He wants to step over them as well, but he’s afraid to.

Forbidden Passion Liam x Riley

Riley knows Liam better, hands down. Or at least she did when it started. By the end he obviously learned a lot about his new bride.

Forbidden Passion Drake x Riley

Drake, easily. His borderline obsession in this one means that he is hyper focused on her and her every need.

Unbreakable Riley x Liam and Riley x Drake

I say tie all the way around. From My Best Friends Girl and Three Weeks in Ramsford through Complicated they are getting to know each other and learning how to navigate a tricky situation. By Hinge, they know each other very well and have a fully functioning, healthy relationship.

Unbothered Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

Riley understands both these men very well and uses that to her advantage. They are both completely clueless about what goes on in her head.

Secrets

Does anybody really know anybody in this one?

Royal Retribution Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

I think they are still learning about each other and it’s fairly even.

Royal Retribution Drake x Liam

Tie. They have been best friends since the age of six, lovers since sixteen and professionally they practically read each other’s minds.

Lavender and Crimson Drake x Riley

Hmm. Riley. Drake was so fucking clueless and stupid in this one.

Star Crossed Drake x Riley

Tie. Eventually.

A Fervid Fixation Drake x Riley

I think these two were both a hot mess. Drake with his crippling insecurity and Riley never fully knowing which man was telling her the truth about everything, but simply choosing to believe him because she wanted him.

Unexpected Riley x Liam

Riley 1000%, poor Liam has no idea about her true nature. Not yet anyway. Lol.

Unexpected Riley x Max

Again, it’s Riley. Clearly. Max is a stumbling mess, never even having been with a woman before. Especially one who enjoys torturing him, both psychologically and sexually.

The De Facto Queen Drake x Riley

So there’s only one chapter up so far. It’s really too early to tell. But I’m leaning toward Drake.

The De Facto Queen Liam x Riley

Technically they are in the past and again, there’s only one chapter up. They seem perfectly in synch when working together though, so we’ll see.

Dark Elf Liam x Riley, Drake x Riley

Oh, no one knows or trusts anyone in this yet. Everyone has their own nefarious, ulterior motives and no one is telling anyone anything.

In Your Room Leo x Drake

Toss up. They are both still being pig headed about even admitting their feelings.

Leo & Liv: Leo x Olivia

Neither. They hadn’t seen each other in five years. They were best friends as children. They have an undeniable physical attraction as adults that seems to have Liv running scared (that and her feelings for Liam). So they have to get to know each other all over again.

#angelasscribbles #answered asks #who knows who better #the royal romance #trr

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tokiro07 · 9 months

Text

Cipher Academy ch.52 thoughts

[Toss a Coin to Your Cipher Soldier]

(Contents: thematic analyses - fairness/friendship, predictions)

"If you let yourself become bound to strange rules, you're basically enslaving yourself." What is this, Undead Unluck?

This was a good showing for Yosaimura, who continues to be easily in my top 5 for this series. I've always been a huge fan of Nisio Isin's mental gymnastics, and this series' running theme of malicious compliance is a particularly fun display of it. Much like Iroha used Anonymity's methods against her by basically saying "well if she got to once, then so do I," Yosaimura literally turns Hakanage's logic on its head by saying "if you're going to say that cheating is fair, then I'm going to play so fair"

Anonymity points out that this is likely only something that Yosaimura even thought to do because she saw Iroha do that during the CLP election, which also reinforces the running theme of growth through interpersonal exposure. Iroha learned how to twist technicalities in his favor from Anonymity, and Yosaimura learned how to do that from Iroha. Everyone's learning something from each other, and apparently that's a quality that only Class A has been able to cultivate

We haven't really learned much about the other classes, but I definitely would believe that everyone else is a lot more...either extremely collectivist to the point of everyone losing their sense of identity (Class E who follow Kubinashi blindly and Class F who are required to hide their faces) or overly individualistic to the point that they can't form connections to each other (Class B's wild sense of expression and Class C's psychic children who have never been depicted interacting). I guess that comes with the territory for the School of Subterfuge, doesn't it?

I'm also always a sucker for character interactions that hinge on trust. Someone trusting their friend to understand a crazy plan, to not hurt them in a wild stunt, or trusting their enemy to behave in a certain way because that's what they've always hated/respected about them; being close enough to someone to rely on them, even if what you're relying on is their unreliability, is so romantic. If you didn't think that Yosaimura and Anonymity were a great ship before, Yosaimura telling her that she trusts her to do something dangerous has to at least help change your mind

For as much of a rapport as they've developed though, it really seems like there's going to be a point where everything falls apart. The fact that everyone's approaching a convergence and we've now completely eliminated Classes D and F suggests that neither of them are going to be the major enemy once we actually reach the bottom of the dungeon, so unless Kubinashi or Yonakiuguisu are bigger threats than they appear, the final conflict is almost assuredly going to be between Class A members. If I had to guess, it's going to come down to the CLP candidates again, but this time it'll be colored by how well everyone has gotten to know each other versus their actions being based on their initial, surface-level impressions of each other

Themes of friendship aside, I feel like the thing that Nisio Isin wants me to take away from this chapter is that cryptocurrency is bad. I don't really get how crypto works (or the economy for that matter), but even I can understand that if a new currency is introduced that is inherently "worth" more than the entire world economy, that's going to cause some issues. Even if we assume that it's worth the exact same amount, doubling the world's money in an instant would theoretically tank the value of all of the world's money, assuming that anyone actually recognizes the value of that currency. I guess the question for me is why anyone would, but again, I don't know how crypto works

If nothing else, it also does raise a good question of how Iroha's plan can actually work - if the value of Morgue is based on the presence of wars, how would he be able to use it to stop wars? If you give someone war-money to stop wars, then the money you paid them is inherently worth less upon receipt because there's less war, right? The best I could see is giving one nation a ton of Morgue and telling everyone else "you know how you can tank that nation's economy? End your wars, their money will become worthless." Honestly, with Nisio at the helm, I won't be too shocked if that's even remotely close

Now that everyone is getting pretty close, I do hope that things will become a bit less episodic soon. Seeing so many different characters in so many different locations is fun, but it's starting to feel kind of..disconnected, I'd say. It's like nothing anyone is doing is having any impact on anyone else, so seeing everyone reunite should help it feel like these stories have consequences outside of floor they occur on

Beyond that, what I'm really looking forward to is seeing how people outside of the dungeon are fairing. Hakanage got knocked out a little too easily; much like Zakuroguchi who I predict is secretly pulling strings from the sidelines, I'm willing to bet that Hakanage is going to do something shady now that no eyes are on her

Until next time

#fouryearsandananime #cipher academy #4y1a reviews

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buttercuparry · 2 years

Note

im sorry but whose fault is that arya is seeing by the fandom as a kid? i've read fics about arya written by arya stans and its always the same: arya being ugly (being seen as ugly even by her own love interest, her own love interest admits sansa is more beautiful than her, etc) which its a lie because arya is beautiful in the books, she was just a child at the start of the series. i have read arya being an infuriating smart ass, arya being a wild thing who insults everyone and hates other women and hates to wear dresses and is always dirty or mean. i stopped reading fics about her to read fics about sansa even if i dont give a shit about her bc sometimes her fics are more mature, idc if she never meets jon in the books, the writers do a really good job portraying jon being in love with her and thats all i care and want to read in a fic where they are the main pairing. that doesnt happen in jonrya fics and its sad bc they have so much evidence in the books.

I don't know why you came into my inbox.

I mean if you like reading jonsa fics and find jonrya fics to be lacking, then that depends on your personal tastes.

Like what was your thought process here? Did you want me to argue with you on how jonrya fics are the best form of art (TM) and scream how wrong it is of you to find it lacking? lmao.

I personally find jonrya fics to be scrumptious. Even if in those fics the author chooses to say that yes, Arya is not the fairest of them all: even then. And do you know why is that? Because that is true. Arya is not the fairest maid in Westeros. Neither was Lyanna. But our frustration comes when your people has repeatedly tried to impress on a stupid theory that Arya is too ugly to be loved, too wild to be loved and therefore it is impossible for her and Lyanna to look alike. Lyanna was a wild beauty but Cersei is said to be much more beautiful than her. Dany with her Targaryen features is canonically one of the best looking woman in perhaps the whole Planetos. But both of these facts do not take away from either Arya or Lyanna. Do not pretend that you who has read their fics, perhaps even went about in their circles, don't know that they have the tendency to push the, "why would Jon look at Arya if Sansa is there". As if Jonrya hinges on Jon losing his heart over Arya's beauty.

And yes, you asked whose fault it is that Arya is seen as a kid? Well tell me then why whenever we discuss Arya's potential love interests, edit any love scene for jonrya or gendrya, write metas or smutty fics of an aged up Arya or generally fool around with any ship regarding Arya, why do we have people coming into our inboxes, calling us pedophiles for sexualizing an 11 year old. Why was there a shock over show!Arya initiating intimacy with Gendry because apparently to them Arya was a kid?

And yes you are right even within our circle, we have had certain Arya Stans who had on them a stronger impression of the fanon/show version of Arya than of the actual canon version of Arya, but lmao none of them villainize Arya the way jonsas do. None of them villainize Arya for being the wild thing she is, for wanting to live as she wants, for not falling in line with Sansa's ideals. And I think you too have missed the point of my earlier post.

Arya is not just pretty girl. I wasn't screaming about people's inability to see Arya as such (as much as it frustrates me that they cling to the label of horseface that her bullies gave to her). My post was about people thinking Arya needs to be a prettiest girl in the whole of Westeros to have romance storyline, because they can't see a rebellious woman, a woman who has refused to bind herself in the narrow constructs of society ever wanting a family of her own. Ever wanting a lover whom she desires.

Also yeah there is this constant tussle, almost an obsession among your preferred faction to put Sansa at the highest pedestal when it comes to beauty and us even mentioning that: hey Arya is pretty as well sets them off in hilarious ways..

#I don't even know what the point of this ask was but oh well...#arya stark #I can't even say that it's all because of her getting in the way of their ship because they do this with gendrya too

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kueh-lapyx · 10 months

Text

So I wrote a thriller short story based on the most terrifying dream my friend had...

*TW: gore, blood, some violence. Very long post ahead

The house is dark, but I am aware of the glaring cameras just around the corner. Like wolves, they prowl the arena in search of their next prey; they've spotted me, marked me, and are hunting me down.

Those cameras aren't just single tennis-ball sized eyeballs— behind each of their unmoving glass irises watch thousands of eager Pantheans, all of them anxious for bloodshed.

I have no intention to be their next source of unscrupulous entertainment.

I duck under a crumbling door frame. I'm heaving, but I'm careful to control each exhale— their mics get more advanced by the day. I stop to catch my breath so I don't pant too heavily. Resting my hands on my knees, I survey my surroundings. Just like any other, this room is ridden with mould and dust and cobwebs. It's darker than the corridor I'd been in.

My shoes don't make a sound against the hollow wooden floorboards. I creep further into the room, letting the darkness engulf me. Hopefully it will be safe for a while.

I have my hands out in front, and they graze a solid, sandy surface. My fingers brush a doorknob. A tug, and the door comes completely loose. I catch it just in time before it crashes to the ground. Apparently the screws on the rusty iron hinges gave away to age. I step into the wardrobe and secure the door back in place behind me. Again I pray, to Lady Tyche, that they wouldn't notice the lopsided door.

I know I've just backed myself into a dead-end. It's not a wise choice, but it's the only one I’ve got. I listen for the telltale beep-zzt of the cameras. I wait for the clack-thump of the cameramen's boots. It's silent outside. I exhale, just a little louder, and slouch carefully against the back of the wardrobe.

And then in the silence, I hear whispers through the back of the wardrobe. They’re coming from the other side. Soft and insistent, but a fraction of a decibel louder with each sentence, as if the one speaking feels the need to overrule the other, but both fear to be discovered in the process. One is high pitched, and on the verge of tears. The other is lower and impatient.

“Son, you know what they would do to you,” the female is saying, “and to me. I cannot bear to lose you; I’d rather you surrender and join the Mourners’ Pit--”

“Mom, that place is worse than hell. You know that too; they treat everyone there like they’re lower than freaking vermin! I’d much rather die fighting than wipe the Pantheans’ sewers with my dignity!”

Ah. I am all too familiar with this argument. The last time I saw my mother, we had been fighting over this exact matter. Except I’d have given in, much alike my cowardly personality, if it weren’t for the sudden appearance of the cameramen. We’d parted in a frenzy, my parents to the agora and me into hiding. We’ve never crossed paths again.

I think about home back in Omega. It's been so long since the sun kissed my face. I think about how no one is there, in our dilapidated little cottage, to feed Snowy. He must be really hungry. I think about how no one is there to chase the squawking sparrows off the berry trees. I think about the piling futile flyers advertising Pantheon’s latest line of cosmetics and the crisp pink sheets of rental bills, shoved into the crevice between the door and the frame, overflowing onto our red welcome mat. I think about how no one is there to stuff the ragged old carpet in the gap between the door and the threshold when it rains, to suck up the seeping moisture; neither is anyone there to haul the big red pail to the corner of the living room where it always leaks buckets. Our little cottage must be in a mess by now, I think. I miss the times when my parents would smile at me as I played in the puddles right outside the doorstep. I miss my mother’s piping hot chamomile tea and my father’s absurd stories about Greek mythology. I think about my parents, and how I miss them. And then I close my eyes and stop thinking.

Focus on the present, I tell myself.

“–it’s the best choice for you, son,” the mother is practically begging now, “if you won’t do this to save yourself, then at least do this for me. I love you, I would be more at ease knowing you're at least alive. Please.”

“I know what is best for myself.” The boy’s voice is cold. “If you really do love me, you wouldn't be so selfish for me to go to living hell just for your own comfort. You wouldn't rest well knowing I am suffering in the Pit.”

The mother is silent. Then she sighs. “Thomas, I–”

And a piercing scream lacerates her sentence.

My fist flies into my mouth. My heart accelerates ahead without me, too loud for my own good. Click-bzzt. They are here. Thump-clack. On the other side, in the room connected to the back of my wardrobe. Shuffle-click. In the room where Thomas and his mother are.

“NO! Thomas! Don’t take him– TAKE ME INSTEAD!”

“Mom! Mom, I’m sorry!” Thomas sounds terrified, all the previous antagonism gone. “I love you too! Stay sa–”

He vomits a bloodcurdling scream. Tears roll down my face. I taste metal, realise it’s from biting down on my knuckles. I can only imagine what they're doing to the boy.

As more days pass, each kill gets more gruesome and torturous. The Pantheans’ hunger for the unexpected gives the cameramen constant pressure to strive for more creative murders than the previous. The first kill had been merciful— a clean swipe at an artery. The second was left to bleed out after two shots in the thighs. I’ve heard yesterday's kill consisted of shoving a snake down the victim’s throat. The gossips may lose their credibility as they pass like wind in a spring afternoon, but they are more often than not conveying more than half of the truth. And it is terrifying, knowing that the next one they talk about might be me.

The mother’s pleas are cut off by a gruff voice thick with the Alphaen slang. “Slim it, bitch. You knoh ye rules; continue teh pup-whine and I will shuck you both.”

Cameramen don't usually speak, unless they're the egotistical ones from Alpha. Alphaens are notorious for being Pantheans’ lapdogs; the cameraman they send from there strive to execute the most cruel of murders and are thus favoured by the audience. Geographically closest to Pantheon, Alpha naturally prevails as their favourite— and despised by the rest of Gaia.

The boy seems to already have a foot across the Styx. I can hear his soft heaves, like he is too worn out to even breathe. I don’t know him, but I remember from the reapings that he is from Psi. I remove my bloodied fist from my mouth and clasp my hands together in a way I’d seen Psians do, back when we attended one of their funerals. I stay that way for a while, until grievous sobs from the mother tell me that Thomas is gone.

I close my eyes, wishing for Thomas to be at peace. And then I open them, blow into my clasped hands and release my breath to the back of the wardrobe.

Click-clack-thump. Rustle-thump. Bzzt-thump. I hear the cameramen fading away, leaving the mother’s sobs amplified in the room. I deflate gently against the wood. My back hits something hard protruding out from the mouldy wood. I grasp it, and with a soft click, the back of the wardrobe splits to reveal a sliver of light.

Oh. It is a two-way wardrobe. I pale at the prospect of being discovered earlier on. I'm reluctant to leave the safety of the wardrobe, but days in the arena taught me to never stay in one place. I push the door open a little more and cringe at the loud creak of the door. I stop pushing and slip out through the small gap.

Thomas’s mother is hunched away from me. Her black, wavy hair is grimy, and her pale, almost see-through skin is a result of malnutrition and the days away from the sun. I don't look much better, I know. But it's still startling to see those purple coloured lips and heavy eye bags when the woman jerks her tear-streaked face up to look at me.

I fold my hands over my tummy and give her an apologetic bow. She looks slightly shocked at the Psian gesture, but I can tell she is touched by it. She places three fingers to her lips, then to her forehead, and push it out to me— the Omegan gesture of gratitude.

“May Tyche be by your side.” She croaks.

I nod my thanks. We exchange weak smiles before I quietly make my way out of the room.

It’s still dark outside. Not surprising, though I’d thought they’d want to get a nice and detailed shot of their most recent kill. I am glad they left behind only the rather harmless flying cameras which won’t report our whereabouts to the cameramen.

I study the paths ahead of me. I can venture deeper into the house, but I might not last long in the barren darkness beyond. I have no idea how the house is designed; as of now the corridors seem endless. I've just used up the last of my food, and am left with barely a mouthful of water. It’s not the safest, but the agora is my only viable option. If I’m lucky, I might be able to snitch the leftovers from yesterday’s meal drop-off without being noticed. Again, I’m counting on luck, but luck is pretty much the only factor we can depend on to survive. Also, going to the agora also means I might have the chance to reunite with my parents.

I begin my journey. Thankfully, the slum-like environment in Omega has sharpened my navigation ability; I can remember my way through the winding corridors of the maze-like house without much trouble. I don’t have to listen to the sound of falling dust for long before I emerge in the semi-brightness of the familiar hallway.

The hallway is elaborately decorated— a stark contrast from the rest of the house. The tiles illustrate looping flowers, while the walls depict murals of Gaia’s abundant history. I step over the dried brown stains on the ceramic tiles, treading each step as if on water. I press my body against the map of Gaia and slowly peek around the corner.

It’s white outside. The daylight is blinding. I shield my eyes but don't wait for them to adjust before slinking out from behind the protection of the hallway. I'm exposed, but there's no one in the agora. No one to be afraid of, that is.

I snatch up the bundle of fabric slouched against a wall. It’s a little greasy. My stomach rumbles at the thought of food, though it is not safe to eat in the open. I backstep, cradling my haul carefully. I retreat until my back hits the murals, and then I turn sharply to sprint.

But the hallway is now blocked by four black-clad men.

The glassy, unblinking eyes of Pantheon stare me down. The cameramen found me.

I step back. They don't move, but I sense the space between us closing. The bundle in my hands is slipping. My heartbeat fills the hallway.

One of them moves to my side, holding his camera steady. I hear the whirring of the lens zooming in on the beads trickling down my face.

I should yell. The agora shouldn't be deserted. There should be people around to hear me. They should care enough to help…

The middle of the four raises a black contraption in my face and my voice dies in my throat. My shoulders hit the rough surface of the wall. I know the murals well enough to sense that I’m pressed against black-winged Thanatos.

My eyes dart about. The one raising the gun at me is the shortest. The one filming has the hilt of a throwing knife peeking out from his pocket. The one flanking the gun-wielder is pulling out a black rod. And the lankiest one has his fists tightly clenched.

They’re all masked and silent, and the lanky one is no exception. But there’s no mistaking the Omegan-grey eyes above the black fabric. He has his own weapon, too, though he doesn’t take it out. There’s a little blood trickling out from where his nails carve crescents into his palm. He is avoiding my eyes. Coward. Traitor.

The terror of being cornered fades momentarily. My mind is clouded with anger, and I am about to do something rash when my mother’s hazel curls flash by the corner of my eyes. I whip my head around, a yell at the brink of my lips.

The gun fires, and I fall.

The pain is excruciating, ringing as loud as the echo reverberating in the agora. The bullet burns a hole in my thigh, consuming me bit by bit. I try to focus on the woman with the hazel curls.

She is approaching me, the familiar waist-length hair billowing like a cape. Cat-like eyes prowl my body and my captors. The cameramen make way for the newcomer. I would have cried out for her, except that this woman isn’t my mother.

Occasionally, chosen Pantheans take a trip into the arena. It’s sort of like a prestigious vacation for them. Pantheans clamour for the honour of travelling into the slaughterhouse, to be aired, Gaia-wide, prancing about dead bodies. And if said Panthean is of an eminent position, they get the luxury of leading kills of their choice.

It is a supposed honour to die by the hands of such a Panthean. But, it’s hard to feel proud when death is just a well-manicured fingernail away.

The lady grazes my chin with her glossy nails, tilting my head up to meet her eyes. I notice her black pupils dilating within her amber irises. She smiles a smile that is anything but joyous. It is an unnerving sight-- the rows of burnished studs glinting along the titanium white teeth, framed by lush, full lips on a face too perfect for bare eyes to perceive. Everything about her radiates supremacy and impossible beauty. And her flawless finger on my chin disgusts me as much as it does her.

She pulls away, wiping her nails with a lacy handkerchief, her upturned chin disparaging my worthless existence. She’s taking her time while I’m doing everything I can to keep from passing out.

The lady takes out a toothpick from her pocket. The luxury item, made from steel and coated with bamboo, is something only the filthy rich can afford. She licks her studs and scrapes her canines with the toothpick.

A prod at my throat. She’s smiling-- no, sneering-- down at me. She presses the sharp point down, and I choke. I grab at her fists, but she swats them away and pins them down, cracking something in the process. And she blurs into amber. The splinter is driven into my throat. It hurts. It burns. I open my mouth, cough, choke, rasp laboured breaths.

She is in my face again. The toothpick in her hand is dripping with crimson. She doesn't speak unlike those villains they show in the outdated action movies on big, washed out screens. In her eyes, I am not worthy of speech.

I see the Omegan, the traitor, wincing. Then a black spot blotches him out.

Another stab. This time she has to wrestle the toothpick in. It’s blunt, but it still does the job. I cough, and blood spurts on the lady’s smooth face. She contorts her perfect features in disgust. Her hand jabs down thrice more, each time ripping a little of me away. I can’t breathe. All I see now are patches of colours. I can’t breathe. I’m coughing.

I’m heaving. I can’t remember what my voice sounds like. I can’t breathe. I’m already weak before. I can’t breathe. Who knew toothpicks could kill?

I can only imagine the holes littered on my neck, blanketed by red. I can’t breathe. I try to cough, to gasp for air. I can’t.

I can barely make out the lady tossing the toothpick away. She retreats, like she’s had enough. And then the cameraman with the gun steps forward. The lady disappears from my sight.

The gun, now an indistinguishable blob of black, is trained on me. I feel thousands, millions of eyes upon me as I lay there, wheezing and hanging on by my hinges. BAM! Pain blinds me. I try to think, to think of my parents, Snowy, home, the summer breeze in the berry patch. I try to think about the goodbyes I never will get to say. I try to say them. I try to think about how much I loathe Pantheon. How much we all loathe Pantheon. I try my best, but pain devours each thought.

I can’t speak, but there’s one thing I can do. I lift my limp fingers, mustering the last of the life I have in me. I direct it towards the lady who came and went; the Omegan traitor who stood by my death; the gun-bearer who will take my last breath; the watching Pantheans who are the cause of everyone’s pain. I flip them a gesture which the whole of Gaia understands. And I fall back.

The cold barrel of the gun slams into my forehead and goes off in my face.

This time, blackness swallows me whole.

I feel nothing. I feel like nothing.

Just endless fields of nothing before my eyes, endless fields of nothing within me.

And then I’m moving. Up. It feels like someone is ripping me away from myself. I feel like a piece of duct tape now.

Up and up and up. I swear I see the bat-like wings of the Oneiroi. And then I don’t. They drop me. I fall.

I hit a surface. The impact has me bouncing right back up. I’m heaving. Panting. The ground beneath my palms is soft. The air is soothingly cool on my face. It’s dark, but it’s a homely kind of darkness. My breath is hot on my face. I’m breathing. Am I not dead?

My hand flies to my throat without difficulty. It’s smooth.

I remember the intricate carvings of Thanatos against my back. Is this Erebus?

And then a square window comes into view. The moon illuminates a calm and steady dresser. Atop its smooth mahogany surface scatter a few books. The Maze Runner. The Blood of Olympus.

On my lap lies an opened book. I close it, and a golden bird shimmers under the moonlight. The Hunger Games.

I pause.

“So,” my voice comes out perfectly fine, “you’re telling me I died in my head?”

My room doesn't reply.

I laugh. I’m amused and relieved that it wasn't real. I applaud my brain for the amount of lore it came up with. Really, that guy should work as an author or something.

Speaking of which, I should take this epic nightmare down. I slide out of bed and grab my laptop. I flip it open, and white light spills out and onto my face. I pull out my folder and create a blank document. Then I start typing, because that’s the right thing to do after getting killed.

Tap. Tap. Tap tap. Nothing better than the calming sound of stories in a quiet night.

I’m almost done with it. Ctrl + S. Last paragraph–

Something hard slams against my head. Its familiar coldness forces me to stay still.

My tongue feels like a raisin. My fingers freeze.

Last I checked, I was alone in my room.

A click. The image of the cameramen, guns raised, eyes flashing above black masks, flashes across my eyes.

Click click. Bzzt. Whirr.

A chill runs down my spine. I have the ominous feeling of being watched. I remember the glassy eyes of Pantheon. And the gaping hole in the gun where a murderous bullet awaits its departure.

I turn around slowly.

A glassy eye is staring at me.

And I scr

#the end #yes it is cut off intentionally #yup the story has ended thank you for reading yee #writers on tumblr #short story #thriller #horror #original story #long post #very long post #dream story #flash fiction #greek mythology #my writing #creative writing #fiction #cw: gore #cw: violence

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kennedyxneills · 1 year

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tw: death mention, death, stabbing, knife, drowning, murder

Dear Dad,

I thought today was going to be so difficult. I mean it was— every time I looked through that lens, and I saw the two of them, I couldn’t help but think of us. And then I had to remember and lose you all over again. It hurt. So bad.

But then I met someone.

And they understood what it meant, even though I’m sure I was slurring, when I admitted that I just wished people knew what it felt like to have the person they loved get ripped from them. And that I’m not crazy. That I’m valid for hurting. Especially when I know to my core even still that what happened wasn’t out of thin air or accidental or whatever everyone always always wants to spew.

They understood that you were taken from me.

And I know I can’t have you back but… but they think I can help make it right.

I’m not sure what’s going to happen but, Dad, I’m excited. I feel like I finally get to return the favor for everything you did for me when you were still here. I’ve got a lot to think about. And I’m nervous but I can’t stop smiling despite it all.

It’s going to be good.

“I know what we talked about. I know that I promised, it’s just… it’s just that it’s real now!” Kennedy’s voice shook as she spoke. Her fingers grasped at the ring on her finger, twisting and turning it around her knuckle. She hated the way that her lower lip was quivering. She hated the look in the eyes staring back at her, the disappointment and frustration they held. Most of all she hated the fear that had been coursing through her ever since that news report popped up on her television screen.

There was no going back now.

Faking enough courage, Kennedy stepped forward, nodding her head as she listened to them hiss. Weak. Clearly you’re not cut out for this. I should have never taken the risk on you. Her sandy blonde hair shook wildly. “Please,” she begged, gritting her teeth to fight the tears coming through. “I just need more time. I promise! I want to try, I want this, I… I’m new to this, okay? I’ve never killed anyone before!”

An honest statement punctuated by the squeak of a door’s hinges.

Kennedy stood frozen like a deer caught in the headlights. The breath was suddenly stripped from her lungs. And as her blue eyes looked from their corners, the troubled heart in her chest beat loud, thrashing against her ribcage at the sight of Louis’s ginger hair.

Where she stood anchored, the other one in the room had no hesitations.

Let me show you how it’s done.

From the moment she’d tucked herself behind the driver’s seat to now, standing at the edge of town, at the edge of an embankment with tire tracks beside her, Kennedy felt as if she was underwater. Adrenaline coursed through her, leaving the words and the thoughts in her head to become muffled, too caught up in their own riptide. You’re doing this. You can do this. I can’t believe you’re doing this. Oh my god, we’re doing it.

It was only as she followed the tire tracks down, catching sight of the white Mercedes, that the pulsing of her thoughts had become more singular: did you do it? When she had visualized this moment in her head, the car had been meant to take the plunge into the icy water. It was supposed to sink down, taking Jake with it, doing the worst of the job for her. Only… it wasn’t in the water. It hadn’t even made it all the way down the embankment, getting itself tangled in the brush, the snow, finding the trees with a crash.

“Oh no,” Kennedy whispered, straining through the grit of her teeth, her worry apparent in the way she bounced, jittering in place. Her inexperience had her torn: did she go and check or did she leave and risk having to face her failure? And what was she supposed to say? This was supposed to be how she proved herself. How were they going to take her seriously now? How were they going to trust her? She needed this.

It was as she’d tested lifting her foot, that a twig snapped in the distance. Her head whipped to the side, eyes darting along the tree line in panic. There, amongst the pines, a figure stood, watching.

I did it, Dad.

You know the real crazy part? It was Vivi’s face when I did it. She was so surprised. You’d think after nine years that she might’ve finally got it but no, that’s asking too much. I know I played nice, played best friends, but the fact that she never knew how much her family hurt me?? I bet her dad’s playing victim now too. Too focused on himself that he can’t pause for a second and think about what he did to you. Well now he did it to himself.

Just like I have this room, your room, he’s got hers now. They might not understand but they’re going to learn, Dad. They’ll have their own nine, ten, plus years to visit that room and her grave and the headlines that’ll come out and it’ll be their turn to feel this pain.

I’m not alone in it anymore.

And you know, the best part is that I’m not even done. This feeling? It’s only going to grow. I blamed him the most because he was your boss, it was his boat, but he wasn’t on it. And all those people that wouldn’t listen… they’re forced to now.

I’ve been waiting so long to scream.

Despite having lived just a block or so away from the bed and breakfast, Kennedy could not remember the last time she’d come that way, almost always following the same route in and out of Ashmore. The memory coming to her mind then was a sunny summer day, the glittery tassels of her Barbie bicycle tickling her freckled skin as she rolled down the sidewalk. What was then bright and warm, stained with faded chalk scribbles, was now dark as the night around her.

It was only just half-past eight and yet the streets were dark. The neighborhood had taken on an eerie quality with the only light coming from the faint glow of light hidden behind shut curtains. The happenings around Nightrest had caused many to shelter in place, seeking the safety of their homes, treating drawn pieces of fabric like they were metal guards. Or bulletproof glass.

Kennedy crept along the side of the homes, clad in black; the brightest thing about her was the item she held in her hand, though— like everything in this town— it was old and worn by the years, its shade of red cut down to nearly a pink. Still, given her history, Kennedy was careful to shield its color, holding the gas canister to her chest. She could feel the contents slash against the side with each of her steps.

Kennedy stood amongst the crowd at Rhee’s, though stood would have been a poor choice of word given how she hung on Malachi’s shoulder. Her head hung back as she peered up at the television screen, pouting as her eyes, lids heavy, slowly traced the court. When a whistle blew and everyone around them jeered, she allowed jumbled words to fall off her tongue. “Was that good? Wait, why does Gorgonzola get to…”

She squinted harder then, paying no attention to the explanation aimed in her direction. Instead, her focus moved from the arch of the basketball, down towards the shelves of liquor, then onto the bar. An empty glass sat on the counter, sat in a ring of liquid. Kennedy’s knee suddenly went weak, her weight on him increasing for a second before she wobbled up taller, “Sorry, sorry,” she slurred, patting his shoulder before stepping back, “I’m good.” Manicured fingers brushed loose bits of hair back behind her head, the very same head that bobbed up and down in a nod, like that single action could convince them both that she was, in fact, ‘good.’ The same bobbing continued as she hiked the strap of her purse higher up her shoulder. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Be… right back.”

Her hand fluttered, trailing behind her as her feet carried her through the crowd, occasionally stumbling, bumping into shoulders and chairs before finally finding the line. Just one person stood in front of her, waiting for that private girls’ room. Kennedy killed the time complimenting her jacket. As the other, and the jacket, retreated, she wracked her brain to think if it had ever been in the Trove’s inventory, an item passed perhaps between her or Vivi’s hands. Kennedy giggled then, allowing her lips to press wide, her eyes to squint, all her actions that little bit extra.

It wasn’t until it was her turn. It wasn’t until the door closed behind her, the lock turned. It wasn’t until she gripped the edge of the sink and looked up into the mirror, that Kennedy allowed the façade to fade away. In seconds, she transformed, standing tall, evaluating herself in the mirror. Should she smudge her lipstick more? Is her hair too neat?

Looking into that mirror, Kennedy stared herself down. Tonight was important. She had to get this right. They all needed to believe her.

Kennedy O’Neill, too drunk, too sloppy, too hung up and heart-eyed to be capable of anything like tonight. Just a dumb blonde little girl who tossed back too many.

A problem hidden in plain sight.

The last few months had lent her more knowledge about the yacht club. Despite living here her whole life, her access had been mostly restricted to the dock and to the lobby and to the balcony that overlooked the ocean. Tonight, she had wandered deeper, to the parts where the music could hardly reach. The distant chatter and chuckles of the crowd twirling in their overpriced gowns played in the background as her fingers tightened around the knife in her hand. In the tiny coat room, the soundtrack that played was the gasp of air Kage struggled to find as the blade pushed further into his gut.

Rising onto her tiptoes, even in her high heels, Kennedy placed her face in front of his. “Your father didn’t do anything,” she snarled, jutting her chin as the anger fueled her. “He let him die.” That last word she punctuated with a further push of her knife. The corners of her lips curved as she watched Kage’s features twist with agony. It was evidence to her that what she was doing was working.

This was always about her father.

She had thought of him when she’d plunged that knife into Vivi. She had thought of him when she shoved that tongue down Kerryn’s mouth: he should have said more. She had thought of him from the moment she followed Kage down the hall.

Thinking of him, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. “He let my father die. He didn’t say anything. He just got to keep living.” God, how badly she wanted to scream. The whole town deserved to hear it. They were all compliant now. All of them just sat around like it didn’t matter. Like Kennedy’s world hadn’t completely shattered. “He’s going to know what it feels like,” she promised, those blue eyes glossy and maddened, wide and wild.

The pretty blonde girl that everyone knew had fully transformed inside those four walls.

With a vicious tug, Kennedy yanked the knife from his flesh and took a long stride back. She admired the red that stained his white shirt and the thud of his knees hitting the floor. There was so much life already drained from him. “But see,” Kennedy started, tiptoeing a bit closer again, the bloody knife raised, pointed towards his dark and weary face, “I’m nice. He at least gets a body to go visit.”

And with that, she slashed her knife across his features, carving what might’ve looked like a smile.

I’d forgotten how cool the water could feel against my skin.

I haven’t gone into the sea ever since I lost you. It never felt right. Or maybe I was scared that if I did that then I could somehow feel you, feel the way you must’ve felt sinking below the waves. How much you must have kicked. How tight your lungs had to have been. How wretched that boat must have looked above, how traitorous.

It’s funny because I think I knew that feeling on land.

Now, I feel like I’m just floating. I feel light.

I can’t wait to see you.

I think Peter’s going to be right; I think you’re going to be so proud of me.

Remember when you used to call me your little warrior? Remember how you used to tell me to ‘show me that face’ and how I’d scrunch up my face and clench my fists? Remember how you’d pat my head, grin, and say ‘there’s my girl’?

I’m right here, Dad.

I’m finally home.

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